#quidditchleaguenet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oliivverwood · 5 years

Text

full bloom

harry/cedric + hanahaki for @dancibayo (i don’t know why the tag isn’t working ://)

note: cedric lives, voldemort was vanquished the first time around by lily’s love, yadda yadda ya. hope you enjoy!

--------

The itching in Harry’s throat began in fourth year.

A glimpse of brown hair, a soft, kind voice. A melodic, charming laugh.

He didn’t think too much of it.

Harry met Cho Chang.

Cho Chang was beautiful in the same way stained-glass was. Elegant, cold to touch, and a story behind her. Fragile, somewhat delicate. She had ivory skin that was rosy in the cheeks in the bite of the Scottish winter and clear brown, almond shaped eyes bordered with thick, long lashes. Her hair swung hypnotically when she moved, left, right, left, right, and she walked with a bounce in her step.

She was beautiful in the way that she was meant to be looked at. Look, but not touch.

Harry looked. He saw. He pined.

But deep down, he knew she wasn’t something he needed. She was just a pretty girl in his year.

It was too bad.

He moved on.

Harry met Cedric Diggory.

When Cedric had leaned down to slyly whisper in his ear about bringing the golden egg to the Prefect’s Baths, the itching in Harry’s throat, which had once just been a quiet scratch, suddenly felt like it was filling his throat, choking him. For a mortifying moment, Harry thought he was going to be sick, all over Cedric’s shiny black shoes.

He excused himself, his voice a pitch too high to be considered casual, and slammed himself into the closest bathroom stall and he coughed. Throaty, phlegmy and rather disgusting. Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut as he felt his mouth fill with something soft, sweet and warm and he spat it out into the loo.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a handful of light pink, feather soft petals floating in the water of the toilet.

Hermione had mentioned the disease to him before. He’d learned about it in Potions.

It still hurt to know that he’d be coughing up petals for the rest of his life, watching Cedric Diggory brushing his lips against Cho’s.

For the first time in the history of the Triwizard Tournament, there were two champions.

Nobody was too surprised. After all, Harry Potter had a way with making history.

Cedric shook his hand, smiled at him with that charming grin and dimple on his left cheek. Harry had to swallow down the petals blocking his throat, breathing deeply. He ran off as soon as he could, sputtering out petals, sticky with his saliva, and he he fiercely rubbed at his cheeks and mouth only to feel that his face was wet with spit and tears.

He continued to see Cedric. A lot. During quidditch, running into him in the halls, bumping into him in the fucking loo.

Harry would breathe deeply. He’d force away feelings. He’d feel sick whenever he had to look at flowers of any kind.

Over the summer, he learned to stop thinking about Cedric’s fluffy brown curls, or how his cheeks were ruddy in the wind when he was flying on his broom, or how adults loved how polite and sickeningly kind he was, how his handshakes were firm and confident.

He learned.

And he lost.

Cedric entered their train compartment, first day of fifth year, to say hello. Harry thought, for the split second his throat felt clear, that it was over. That he was saved.

His heart dropped when he made to open his mouth and choked, having to swallow down the soft flowers and hold them, not able to breathe, until Cedric frowned at his silence and walked away.

After he left, Hermione ran her hands through his hair sympathetically, her own eyes watering, as he spluttered out the pink petals all over the carpeted floor of their train. She cried for him, cried because her friend, the untouchable Harry Potter, was weakened by love, the magic that had saved him, the magic that would kill him.

“It’s unlucky, mate. I’m sorry.” Ron said softly.

Cedric began to notice how Harry ran out of every room he entered, saw how his friends kept him close, whispering in hushed tones and glancing at the older boy as they gently led him away. It was disconcerting.

Cedric thought that he and Harry were friends. Good ones. Even through both their short-lived stints with Cho, through the competition of the Triwizard Tournament, and through quidditch cups and matches.

It stung, a little, to see the messy head of black hair, the glint of green eyes and a flash of tan skin, knowing that the boy didn’t think the same.

Harry Potter plagued his thoughts more than he should’ve.

Cedric was graduating soon. Leaving the school, leaving Harry.

He couldn’t be more relieved.

He knew he’d still cough up petals, destined to be in love with someone unattainable forever, but not as often. Not so intensely. There had been too many instances where he’d had to hold the petals in his mouth, his cheeks full, or having to spit them into his book bag. It wasn’t a pleasant business, but with Cedric gone, he could at least pretend to have some semblance of a normal life. Out of the billions of people in the world, he had to find at least one that he could love.

Right?

It was the last day of school, last day of Harry’s fifth year that Cedric slammed into the empty bathroom he was in, his cheeks ruddy and his lungs heaving. He wore the graduating cap, lopsided on his head, and his robes were disheveled and his tie was crooked. Harry fought the urge to reach out and fix it.

“Did you just- did you just run from the Great Hall?” Harry questioned weakly, waiting for the explicable need to choke.

It didn’t come.

“I’m sorry.” Cedric blurted, taking off his cap and running a hand through his hair uncomfortably. “I just realised. Only just now.”

Harry ignored the little ignition of hope that erupted in his head. The petals weren’t coming. They weren’t blocking his airways and filling his mouth. It could only mean one thing.

He didn’t dare believe it.

“Oh?” Harry murmured, looking away, looking anywhere, just not at Cedric. He couldn’t. What he was looking for was confirmation. He’d been desperate for it.

Cedric stepped closer. Once. Twice. Inches from Harry.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Cedric whispered. “And I only just realised that I-”

He cut himself off, wringing his hands for a second, inhaling sharply.

He leaned down.

Harry would never cough up the cursed pink petals again. It was a funny little thing, love.

Hanahaki disease is a curse of love. The victim would cough up petals as they suffer from one-sided love. The curse ends when the one-sided love becomes mutual, or when the victim dies.

#hp #harry potter #hedric #harry potter x cedric diggory #SADIE + REQUESTS #hprarepairnet #hpshipsnet #hpminorcharnet #my writing #text #usersadie18 #oliivverwood #quidditchleaguenet

220 notes · View notes

zenik · 5 years

Photo

hp posters: cedric diggory

remember what happened to a boy that was good and kind and brave because he strayed in the path of lord voldemort.

#**mine #*old #type: photo.#*hp #hposters #harry potter #harry potter edit #cedric diggory #cedric diggory edit #hogwartsonline #quidditchleaguenet #lightningeranet #lightning era #nataliesfam #johnspantheon #hazelsfam #aaliyasfandomfam #valesweirdfam

855 notes · View notes

hprarepairnet · 5 years

Photo

WE HAVE DECIDED NOW THAT EVERY CHALLENGE WILL BE BASED ON SEASONS. WHICH MEANS, THIS CHALLENGE WILL LAST FROM SEPTEMBER 1ST, 2019 TO NOVEMBER 30TH, 2019. FOR THIS CHALLENGE, ALL YOUR CONTENT WILL NEED TO BE REVOLVED AROUND THE AUTUMN SEASON.

This could be your favorite pairing celebrating Halloween, they could be dancing through the leaves and going back to school, or they could be in a complete AU setting during Autumn! It’s up to you! Anything works as long as it fits the theme and season.

This challenge is being run by us at the @hprarepairnet and the @slytherdornet, but it is open to anyone that would like to participate. There are a few things you need to keep in mind if you would like to be involved:

These edits can be made for any Slytherin x Gryffindor pairing or any pairing considered rare across the HP fandom.

If you make an edit of a rare-pair that is not between a Slytherin x Gryffindor, only the @hprarepairnet will reblog the edit. The @slytherdornet will only reblog content having to do with Slytherin x Gryffindor pairings.

Make sure to use the appropriate challenge tags and network tags if you want us to see your work for the challenge! Use the general tags #hprarepairnet and #slytherdornet, but also use the challenge specific tags #slytherdornetchallenge and #hprarepairnetchallenge!

Also make sure to specify in the caption of your post that this is for the @hprarepairnet and @slytherdornet autumn challenge!

And last but not least, the content you make for these pairings can be graphics, moodboards, aesthetics, one-shots, fanfics, headcanons, etc.

From both nets, we hope you choose to participate! It will be a blast. We can’t wait to share our content with you all Autumn long. If you have any questions, you can send an ask to either of the networks! But please make sure to signal boost this challenge as many times as you can throughout the season, so the word is spread! It is a long challenge, and we do not want it to die out. Thank you all so much for your support. x

#hprarepairnet #slytherdornet #slytheringirlsgang #hpedit #magicfolk #hogwartsonline #rarepotterpairs #hptriadsnet #quidditchleaguenet #maraudersnet

57 notes · View notes

themandalorlan · 4 years

Text

New year new wardrobe? Seriously not scamming anyone, the link above is for $50 credit for the StitchFix boxes. A stylist will send you 5 items based on your likes and what you need, and you can use the credit towards buying anything or everything in the box! Promise you will like what you get, just let them know what your style is like (maybe link a Pinterest board?) Lmk if you have any questions :)

#ps this is a special link normally you only get $25 credit but as a loyal customer they gave me this extra link #try it! doesnt hurt to order one box if you dont like anything it wont cost you anything either cuz itll be covered by the credit #stitchfix #referral #nothp #mine #personal #stagflowernet #lilyflowernet #poanet #ginnyweasleynet #bronzetrionet #quidditchleaguenet #remuslupinnetwork #bellatrixnet

11 notes · View notes

wandlores · 5 years

Text

First Look

Pairing: Harry Potter x Pansy Parkinson Words: 2,174 You can also read this on AO3. This is for the @hprarepairnet and @slytherdornet Autumn Challenge!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pansy Parkinson had been in love with Ron Weasley for as long as she could remember, but there was only one problem.

He was not in love with her; he was in love with Daphne Greengrass, who also happened to be her best friend. They got together this last summer while Daphne stayed at Pansy's beach house, and Pansy continued to torture herself pining after Ron in silence.

What Pansy didn't know was that Ron's best friend, Harry Potter, was doing the same thing over her. Every year when he went to Ron's beach house during the summer, he would long for Pansy's attention, but she only had eyes for Ron. It was like a fucking soap opera, and Harry was sick of it.

They were both sick of pining after things they couldn't have; that's why they were both thankful for new beginnings. They were starting college now and would be away from their personal failures, or so they thought.

Too bad Pansy hated Harry and Harry hated Pansy for wanting his best friend over him, otherwise their upcoming college experience would have been a piece of cake.

But nothing was ever meant to be easy, not in Harry Potter or Pansy Parkinson's life.

They were fighters; they would have to fight for the ending they deserved, or at least the ending they had always wanted.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as Pansy loved Daphne, she was happy they were going to different universities and even countries. The goodbye was rough. There were many tears and mascara stains on each other's shirts, but Pansy couldn't help but sigh from relief as she watched Daphne drive away. What she needed was a little separation and to not be reminded of Ron Weasley.

She didn't understand why he had never liked her. She was attractive, or so she thought. Her dad had money, and she was charming as hell, but he never wanted her. He always appeared uncomfortable when she talked to him, and that made his stupid friend Potter pipe up with his sarcastic opinion that she didn't ask for.

Potter. Thank god she would never have to see him again, or at least until next summer. She smiled to herself at the thought.

He was the most annoying person she had ever met. She felt he was so self-righteous, just because he was some child prodigy hero. She didn't even know what for, but Harry Potter was well-known. The best part about Ron was that she could tell he loved Harry for other reasons than his status; that made him even more endearing to her. Yeah, Pansy had a representation for being a rich bitch, but she still had a heart. You just had to dig deep for it.

Maybe that was her problem; she was too guarded after her mother died. She wasn't sure, but it sure wasn't something she wanted to think about.

As she lugged her suitcase up to her dorm, she prayed to God her roommate would at least be semi-tolerable. As she turned the handle to her room, she took a deep breath.

Once she opened the door and her dorm room appeared in front of her, she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Her roommate had already arrived, and she was one of those girls. The type that was overly anal and uptight. The girl that had neat rows of post-it notes covering her bulletin board instead of pictures of her friends. She was the type that was here on a full-ride scholarship, aka, Pansy's worst nightmare.

Her new roommate looked up from her desk instantly and gave her a big smile. Her curls were blowing wildly from the fan on their windowsill, and God forbid, she was wearing the most hideous dress Pansy had ever seen. She greeted Pansy with intense formalities.

"Hermione Granger," she said. She stuck her hand out for Pansy to shake it. Her nails were unpolished, and Pansy figured that was the first thing she would convince her new roommate to invest in if they had to be friends. Nail polish.

"Pansy Parkinson," she told her, "Nice to meet you."

Hermione gave her a nod and sat back down at her desk. She was typing away at her laptop and didn't say another word as Pansy set her suitcase down on her bed and started to unpack. It got to the point that if Pansy had to hear her nails hitting her keyboard for just one more second, she was going to scream.

"How much homework have you done already?" Pansy asked sarcastically, but Hermione didn't hear her tone. She answered her seriously.

"I'm already three weeks ahead. I would like to be two months ahead if I can help it. I really want to start studying for finals."

Pansy gave her a deadpan stare that Hermione couldn't see. Her back was still turned to her and she was facing her laptop screen. Pansy didn't even know what to say, so she continued to adjust the picture of Daphne she had pinned to her bulletin board. She stared at it for a long time wondering how she was doing with Ron as they traveled the world abroad together for college. Pansy could feel jealousy bubbling up in the back of her throat, but she tried to push it down. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at their door.

Hermione shot up from her desk instantly, and Pansy watched how fast she moved. She apparently had been expecting company.

When their door opened, she saw the person she had never expected to see.

Harry Potter.

Pansy had to stifle the groan building up in the back of her throat.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. Harry patted her back warmly, and they moved apart. It was then Harry caught sight of Pansy. His eyes widened, and Hermione noticed.

"You-uh, know each other?" She asked.

Pansy rolled her eyes, and Harry crossed his arms, "You could say that," he said.

Pansy scoffed, "I have seen him every summer of my life for the past ten years at Ron Weasley's beach house."

Hermione's eyes widened, "You're Pansy?"

Pansy raised her brow and watched as Harry turned beat red. He gave Hermione a look.

"Yes?" Pansy said awkwardly, "I told you that when I walked in-," but Hermione interrupted her.

"This is such a small world. Ron or Harry didn't tell me you would be coming here with Harry and I."

"You-you know Ron?" Pansy stuttered.

She watched Harry's mouth turn to a frown. Was her love for Ron still that obvious? And why did Harry always have to be so sour about it? She knew she was pathetic, but this just made her unrequited love worse.

"Yes," Hermione answered, "Ron, Harry, and I have been best friends for years. I'm sure you have heard about me?" She raised her brow and gave Harry a look.

That's when Pansy remembered them always talking about their other best friend back home, but they called her Mione.

Before Harry could answer, Pansy nodded, "Of course, but they just called you Mione. I didn't make the connection before."

Hermione's smile brightened, "I figured. I basically hold our group together."

Hermione nudged Harry in the shoulder, and Harry playfully rolled his eyes.

They all didn't say anything for a few seconds, and Pansy tried to look anywhere but at Harry. She could feel his eyes on her, and she could feel Hermione's eyes on him. It was awkward as fuck.

"Well," Hermione finally spoke up, "Harry and I were going to go to dinner, would you like to join us?"

Pansy was about to answer no, but Harry beat her to it, "I can guarantee you she will not want to, Hermione."

Pansy glared at him, and he gave her a sarcastic grin in response.

Hermione gave him another look, but he ignored her.

"I'll just see you around, Hermione. I have some studying to do," Pansy lied.

She watched as Hermione's face brightened at the prospect of studying.

They finally left Pansy alone, and she groaned loudly as she fell back on her bed.

This could not be happening.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Harry didn't come by their room again after that night, instead, he would meet Hermione in the commons area. Pansy knew it was because of her, but Hermione reassured her that it wasn't. She quickly became fond of Hermione, to her own surprise, so she wanted to believe what she told her, but she didn't, and for some reason, it bothered Pansy that Harry was purposely avoiding her.

It was mid-September when she saw him again. She was walking across campus after her last class and listening to the leaves rustle in the wind. She took in a deep breath and smelled the pumpkin spice from the coffee shop down the way. She was tempted to go get one, but she stopped in her tracks when Harry Potter came around the corner. She suddenly felt nervous, and she felt stupid that he was making her feel nervous. Before at her favorite beach town, she would just roll her eyes and ignore him as she pined after Ron, but now she could see him for who he was, and she couldn't blame Daphne for having a crush on him so many years before.

His eyes were like emeralds; the kind her mother used to wear when she was small. It made her feel nostalgic and oddly safe. His black hair was blowing in the wind and was wildly disheveled. It reminded her of when she used to watch him and Ron on the beach on their surfboards. Ron had filled out before Harry, but Harry was more muscular than Ron now. It was like he had grown up into a man just in the last few weeks she hadn't seen him before they started school. She couldn't believe she still had no idea they were attending the same university, but it occurred to her then that she tried to talk to Harry as little as possible in the past.

She must had been gaping for too long, because Potter approached her with his eyebrow raised, "See something you like, Parkinson?"

Pansy rolled her eyes, "No," she lied, "I was just shocked to see you still exist. You haven't been by to see Hermione in ages."

He scrunched his brows together in confusion, "Did you want me to come to the dorm? You have always hated me and have loved Ron, I just figured-"

It was then she heard the bitterness in his tone, and it occurred to her that maybe Daphne's comments for years had always been right. Harry liked her, maybe even in the same way that she liked Ron. She felt her cheeks flush at the thought.

"I-," but she didn't know what to say, so she just closed her mouth. They stared at each other for a few minutes. She had never allowed Harry to look at her so deeply before; maybe she had always been afraid.

Ron Weasley was safe, but Harry Potter was not. He had a dark past that hardly anyone in their old beach town knew about, and he was not open to share. She had always been drawn to mysterious things, but during the summer, Pansy had always wanted to escape from her own darkness. The beach house was her safe place, it was the only place she could go to forget her own demons, but Harry Potter always had the capacity to make her face herself. She realized that now; she only paid attention to Ron to not pay attention to Harry. He would force her to face the deepest parts of herself and her pain, and that was the scariest prospect she could think of.

Harry's face softened as he watched her recollections rise. It was like he knew what she was thinking about. He surprised her next by putting a piece of her hair behind her ear. He lightly grazed her ear and shivers ran up her spine.

"Pansy, do-do you want to go get coffee?"

It was such a simple request. The kind that should have been an instantaneous "yes" without any fear, but Pansy could feel her heart beating a million beats per minute. She was breathless when she answered him.

"Yes."

She watched his green eyes smile even when his lips did not. It was a peculiar experience, and it made Pansy smile herself. They walked towards the coffee shop in silence, and all Pansy could hear was her own heartbeat and the leaves crunching underneath her boots.

Autumn was the time for new beginnings, much like college was supposed to be for everyone their age. She never expected to find a new beginning in someone she had known for so long. She supposed it was because she never really allowed herself to see him before.

But now she could see him, and she couldn't look away.

41 notes · View notes

slytherdornet · 5 years

Photo

These edits can be made for any Slytherin x Gryffindor pairing or any pairing considered rare across the HP fandom.

Also make sure to specify in the caption of your post that this is for the @hprarepairnet and @slytherdornet autumn challenge!

And last but not least, the content you make for these pairings can be graphics, moodboards, aesthetics, one-shots, fanfics, headcanons, etc.

#slytherdornet #hprarepairnet #hpedit #magicfolk #hogwartsonline #rarepotterpairs #hptriadsnet #maraudersnet #quidditchleaguenet #slytheringirlsgang

32 notes · View notes

blueandbronzebaby · 5 years

Text

Ravenclaw Quidditch Team 1993-1994

"Ravenclaw, make them sore!"

Roger Davies

Jeremy Stretton

Duncan Inglebee

Randolph Burrows

Grant Page

Cho Chang

Jason Samuels

#hp minor characters #quidditchleaguenet #ravenclaw quidditch team #ravenclaw house #we are eagles not ravens #roger davies #jeremy stretton #duncan inglebee #grant page #jason samuels #randolph burrows #cho chang

24 notes · View notes

charrdricnet · 5 years

Photo

Harry doesn’t feel left out. Seriously, he doesn’t. His partners pay him almost too much attention sometimes (which makes him blush like mad), so he likes to sit back and watch them every once and awhile.

He sits at the kitchen table and watches them cook. After finding out about his childhood, slaving over breakfast for the Dursley’s every morning, Cho and Cedric had essentially forbidden him from cooking (that, and the fact he wasn’t very good at making anything other than eggs).

He watches the way they move together, a perfect team as they pass ingredients. Cho’s fuzzy socks slide across the tiled floor as she puts the milk away in the fridge, and she giggles happily, seemingly to herself, as she does so. Harry catches the fond twinkle in Cedric’s grey eyes, and Harry assumes there’s something similar in his own green ones.

He couldn’t feel left out if he tried. Because as Cedric turns and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him up and spinning him around, and Cho grabs his hips from behind and nuzzles her face into the back of his neck, making him laugh.

He feels like he belongs.

252 notes · View notes

blackregulus · 6 years

Photo

regulus black for @quidditchleaguenet may challenge: slyth team: fav characters

mors vincit omnia. // death conquers all.

1K notes · View notes

annbeth · 6 years

Photo

@quidditchleaguenet‘s get to know your members event and @marauderseranetwork event: favourite male characters from the era

↳ james potter

Your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.

#hpedit #quidditchleaguenet #marauderseranetwork #magicfolk #meraudurs #userviolet #userliyah #hermionegrangcr #euphemiapottcr #userzelle #*e #*c

413 notes · View notes

thosebizzareserpents · 5 years

Photo

“Attitude Era” 1999-2020 pt II

The finest from the British and Irish Quidditch League

Holyhead Harpies (Wales)

Chudley Cannons ( England)

Wigtown Wanderers (Scotland)

Appleby Arrows (England)

Kemare Kestrals (Ireland)

*after Sebastian teams have already been mentioned in part I

(click to enlarge)

#hp edit #pro quidditch league #england and irish quidditch league #here are some of the younger kids #hpminorcharnet #ginny weasley #roger malone #roger was in harry's year #joan kerridge #vicky frobisher #i headcanon vicky and joan were in ginny's year #sebastian daley #eurig cadwallader #reiko sibazaki #sachin tripathy #ginny font is different my mistake #mxrcusflint #quidditchleaguenet

16 notes · View notes

oliivverwood · 5 years

Text

winner takes it all

ten times marcus and oliver faced one another

Marcus and Oliver were not friends. Even that was such a painful understatement, to even use Marcus, Oliver and friends in the same sentence. It's just the way it was, the way it had to be, and the way it was going to be.

Marcus first faced Oliver on the pitch. A spindly bag of bones, on the opposite end of the field, guarding the goals from Marcus, who was stocky and tall for a second year. The Slytherin would have laughed, had he not seen the manic glint of determination and passion and obsession for the sport that Marcus had only seen in his own eyes when looking into a mirror.

Marcus wasn't able to shake his hand after the game. Oliver Wood had been struck by a wayward bludger, courtesy of Bole, and was carted off when it had been realised that he'd been knocked out cold. He wasn't sure if he wanted to shake his hand anyways.

ii.

The last Slytherin and Gryffindor game of Marcus's school years was bittersweet.

They had lost.

Marcus had watched as the Gryffindor team had crowded Potter, who held up the snitch, an obvious gloat, to the pleasure of the cheering red and gold stands. Then, the team turned their attention to Oliver, and the Weasley twins lifted him up on their shoulders for a lap of the pitch, because Oliver Wood was a great captain, a great player, and deserved a great send off.

Marcus, somehow, couldn't find it in him to be angry about the result of the game, seeing tears stream down Oliver's face like that, gleefully holding up the cup and blissfully unaware of the ugly feeling that was latching itself to Marcus's heart. He'd had his chance with the quaffle, head to head with his rival and he'd failed.

Marcus remembered what he had first thought of Oliver, all those years ago- how they were alike in the way that they loved quidditch first, and everything else came after.

iii.

The day Marcus had shook Oliver's hand on the pitch, Montrose versus Puddlemere, it had felt like they'd gone back to the beginning again. Back to fifth year, when they'd both been appointed captains, the closest the two had ever been. Now, they'd been elected as captains in the big leagues, an unacknowledged dream that was shared between the two.

There was a nostalgia that came with the familiar game of the two of them trying to break the bones in each others hands, minutes before they faced off. If Marcus closed his eyes, he could imagine the green and silver clashing with the red and gold on the bleachers, the smell of the Scottish countryside-- hell, he could even hear Lee Jordan's commentary if he thought about it hard enough . When he finished the handshake roughly, he thought he saw the corner of Oliver's lip quirk up.

They had a show, of course, Marcus's jaw-dropping, calculated skill against Oliver's unbridled, raw talented passion. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Chaser versus Keeper. Marcus versus Oliver.

It always came down to the two of them, really.

iv.

The World Cup Stadium was unlike anything Marcus had ever experienced before.

One of the record youngest ever appointed to the English National Team, the nerves he felt when flying the introductory lap around the stadium had been indescribable. The lights were blindingly bright, the stands cheering and stomping with all the volume of a baby Mandrake. His blood rushed with adrenaline, seeing some familiar faces in the crowd as he whizzed by.

And then Scotland came, to do their lap.

And there he was.

The World Cup Final, the pot of gold at the end of Marcus's grueling, long, seemingly endless rainbow of training, working out, and lacking a social life.

Of course Oliver was there, because Oliver was always there.

The whistle blew. The crowds roared. Marcus glanced across the pitch, eyeing the figure clad in purple, an obstacle.

He kicked off.

'Terence is a good friend.' Marcus had chanted to himself, in his mind. 'Terence wouldn't let me sit through a terrible dinner with another boring date.'

Under the delusional premise of finding their dear friend, Marcus, love, his friends had taken to setting him up on blind dates. Adrian, Draco and Cassius had all chosen abysmally, each date ending on Marcus giving them a fake floo number and praying he'd never see them again.

Terence was a good friend. He would pick wisely.

(If he knew what was good for him.)

So Marcus sat, in the quiet restaurant, silent only because it wasn't proper if customers spoke too loudly.

To say he was shocked when Oliver Wood appeared in front of him- hair still damp at the ends from a recent shower, smelling too much of grass and leather and too little cheap deodorant- was a garish understatement.

"Flint." He said, lightly, as if this wasn't fucking with Marcus's head at all, as if this was expected. He sat down and drank the wine that was in Marcus's glass in one swallow.

'Terence is nasty friend. Terence is a horrible friend-'

vi.

Terence had been a good friend, Marcus realised almost entirely too late.

Exactly year after that fateful meeting, Marcus and Oliver were sitting in the same restaurant, facing each other, and bickering.

They were a couple that bickered. Worse than Malfoy and Potter. Worse than Terence and Adrian.

But nobody took care or notice, because it was quite obvious that--while Oliver snapped at Marcus about player stats and took his hand, and Marcus flicked Oliver's forehead and kissed it better right after--they were sickeningly in love.

Oliver had decided to splurge tonight, their one year anniversary, and bought some fancy champagne. It was much too bubbly for Marcus and much too sweet for Oliver but they drank it all anyways till their heads and a pleasant buzz and they were unfortunately not allowed to apparate home on their own.

Terence was a good friend, Marcus had realised, because the former had come to pick them up from the restaurant at 10 at night and took them home. He may have tucked them in fondly, but that would remain a secret Terence would take to the grave.

vii.

Real fights with Oliver were agonising.

Snarls, glares and raised voices would be a result of a furious tension between the two. Over serious things, like future plans, that Marcus thought about too much, and Oliver didn't think about at all.

Marcus faced Oliver in their kitchen and scowled, while the other man yelled about Merlin-Knows-What and flailed his arms about like a fucking nut. His Scottish brogue always got thicker, to the point that his speech became a garbled stream of nonsense, and Marcus couldn't get a word in at all. It wasn't for lack of trying. Normally, by the end of their fights, both would scream unintelligibly just to make a point, until one of them pushed the other and snogged them senseless.

They always went too far. That's how it was with Marcus and Oliver--zero to a hundred and never an in-between. That's what made them great athletes.

In moments like these, Marcus wished he knew how to calm down, but when it came to Oliver, he could only see red.

viii.

Marcus had come back to the school twice after he graduated.

Once, to fight in the battle, dragging the dead from the debris and settling them in the Great Hall.

The second time, with Oliver. He wouldn't reveal to Marcus why he'd taken them there, and why they were on the pitch. Even so, Marcus appreciated being there--the place where he first fell in love with a sport.

It was evening, the sun setting on the horizon and washing the field and the school in a pale orange light. Marcus could hear the faint chattering of the students eating supper in the Great Hall. His heartstrings jerked at the memories of his time at Hogwarts.

When Oliver got down on one knee, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket, it tipped Marcus over the edge- and he hadn't cried since the war ended, but now he let go.

"Yes, you prick." Was all that Marcus was able to get out, through hiccups and coughs. Oliver laughed at him.

ix.

The celebrity matches were always fun, Marcus thought. It made him feel like a student again, playing quidditch with his old rivals, Lee Jordan commentating to the horror of McGonagall.

"Oh, how times have changed since our days, folks!" Lee rumbled into the microphone. "Once notorious rivals Flint and Wood, our team captains today, announced their engagement yesterday."

Terence hooted from the stands. Of course, he hooted.

Lee continued to chatter about their engagement, about Draco and Harry's honeymoon arrangements, how Angelina and Viktor Krum were getting on. Marcus tuned it out, watching Oliver Wood floating on his broom on the other end of the pitch.

He saw him looking. He winked.

Yes, Marcus loved the annual charity matches. It felt like he was back at the start, doing it all over again.

On a normal day, Marcus would laugh uproariously at the sight of his friends crying. Each one of his teammates, from school, from Montrose, from England, were sitting in Flint Manor, tears streaming down their face. Terence had sniffled through half a pack of tissues, while Harry Potter had used the rest.

But today was not a normal day, and Marcus was crying too, while Oliver choked through his speech while casting a spell over the ring he'd put on Marcus's finger. He swore loudly when he'd begun to cry, to the amusement of his friends and family.

"I love you." Marcus said at the end of his speech. When they finally sealed the deal with a kiss, something inside of Marcus clicked, slid into place, and he felt like his entire life, against Oliver Wood and with him, had lead to this moment.

#hp #text #flintwood #oliver wood #flintwoodnet #hprarepairnet #marcus flint #flintwood fic #slytherdornet #slytherin #hprarepair #quidditch #my writing #quidditchleaguenet #drabble

243 notes · View notes