Harry Potter One-shots

Puddlemere United (Oliver)

You walked to the Quidditch Pitch, about to watch another match of the Puddlemere United. You were the one funding the team, but none of the players knew that. They would learn in some hours anyway. You watched as the game progressed, smiling as your team won. Your keeper, Oliver Wood, was in a good day. However, you could never remember a day back in school that Oliver didn't block the Quaffle. Maybe the man didn't have bad days.

You looked at the coach of your team. The man nodded, and you left your seat, heading to the changing rooms of your team.

You looked over your attire, for the millionth time this day. You were wearing a dress reaching your knees and a heel of five inches, needless to say, your attire wasn't proper for a Quidditch match. But then again, you were doing your job. You were also wearing a pair of fancy sunglasses and a black purse was on your hand to complete the look.

You reached the changing rooms, finding the coach waiting outside.

"Right, let me see if they are decent, my lady," he said. He got in the room, and you smirked to yourself. My lady. Nice.

"They are almost properly dressed," the coach said, and you nodded. You stepped into the changing rooms, the smell of sweat hitting you immediately, but you ignored it, looking at the Quidditch players that were looking at you in surprise.

"This, boys, is the one that gives the funds to our team to get going. Madam, if you will," the coach said in respect. You smiled, and took your sunglasses of, looking at the Quidditch players with a smile.

Oliver's voice came from behind the room as he called your name, and he walked to the front, shirtless. You rolled your eyes at him, it was as if you were classmates again.

"Oliver, put on your shirt," you said with a small smirk on your lips. The man nodded, putting on his shirt without a protest. You looked at the confused faces of the other players and smiled.

"It was a great match, everybody, you really make me proud. It seems the decision to put my money on you was right," you said, giving everyone in the room one of your famous bright smiles.

"Madam?" a man younger than you asked, and you nodded at him to continue. "How do you know Oliver?" he asked. You smiled at him, looked at the Quidditch player, and your smile widening a little.

"We were friends back at school," you explained. "Now, I am at your disposal, whatever you wish for, you can simply ask. I will come to watch your practice once a month, and I will be present in each one of your matches, except if I have an emergency, the likes of something happening with my health," you explained, the men nodding. "Please, feel free to contact me, I don't bite," you said, winking at the men. With a wave of your wand, each Quidditch player held one card featuring you, so that they could contact you. You nodded as a goodbye and turned to leave, getting out of the changing rooms, when Oliver's voice stopped you.

"I never thought you would be able to get this far," he said silently. You turned to the man, raising an eyebrow.

"You should have known after all these years that I never give up. I worked hard these seven years you haven't seen me, Oliver, and I've managed to become what muggles would call a millionaire. Can you imagine? All because of hard work. I plan on getting further, if you wanted to know," you said, a defensive tone in your voice.

"It's just.. nevermind," Oliver said, turning to you with a small frown. "Why did we stop talking?" he asked. You pressed your lips together, a hard look on your face.

"If I wanted to achieve great things, I would have to cut ties with anything and anyone that could possibly hold me back," you said. Oliver snapped his gaze up to you, a sad expression on his face.