A Keeper's Quarrel {Oliver Wood x Reader}

Chapter 2

Y/N

Flashback: Dragon Alley, Summer before 1st year

The alley is crammed with shoppers.  I can hardly navigate threw the swarms of people.  The only way I am not losing my way is because I have my hand clamped firmly in Oliver's.

He was walking at a break-neck pace. My feet tripped over themselves while trying to keep up with him.  I knew right where he was headed.  We had talked about nothing else all summer.  I just hoped it was there.  It would break his heart if it wasn't.

As we swerved threw one more group, Oliver started to slow down. 

We were getting close.

I looked over a few heads in the crowd and could see the sign coming into view.

Quality Quidditch Supplies

We crammed threw a few more people, at last finding ourselves standing at the front of the store.  Oliver instantly smashed his hands against the pained glass storefront.  Behind it cradled in between two bronze holders was the new Clean Sweep. His bright chestnut eyes lit up at the sight. 

We had been talking all summer about the broom.  After we got our letters from Hogwarts, and knew we would be coming to Diagon Alley for supplies, we were working out our plan to see it. 

It was beautiful.  The curves of the wood with a soft leather grip at the very end of the handle and the thick bundle of bristles at the back made it seem like a force to be reckoned with.

"I need it," Oliver squeaked with his hands still pressed against the glass.

"We can't have brooms our first year though," I replied getting closer to the glass myself, still marveling at the craftsmanship.

We had brooms at home that we would fly on all the time around our backyard pitch, but they were just old practice brooms my dad had bought off an old friend of his.  Nothing like this broom.

"We can use it at home then!" He backed away from the window, allowing him a better all-over look of his greatest desire.

I walked closer to him resting my arm on his shoulder sympathetically, "We don't need a broom like that Oli and you know it."

I could see the sadness fall over his face as he ran his fingers threw his short brown hair.

"You're right.  I know you're right."

I hated seeing him disappointed.  In truth, I really would have loved to get the broom too, but I knew it wasn't in the cards for us right then.  Next year we would be able to try out for the house teams and that's when everyone would be in trouble.  The dynamic duo of Oliver and Y/N kicking everyone's butt on the Hogwarts pitch.  We were going to make a great team next year.

We already were.

"Hey," I stretched a big smile," Wanna go get an ice cream?"

"Only if we can race!" Oliver's eyes shone now at the prospect of a competition.

"You're on!"

I saw Oliver turn and begin sprinting away from me.  I was trying to catch up but he was fast.

"Oliver! Wait!" I shouted at him as he began to disappear from my view amongst the crowds of people.

"I'm losing you!"

Present Day: Dragon Alley, Summer before 4th year

I'm standing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies in a daze.  I came here to get new gloves as my old ones were all worn out from the last two years.  I stare into the window at the broom on display.  It's a newer version of the one I have.  The latest Clean Sweep.  I'm sure it's faster than my broom, but I like my broom well enough.

I shake my head back and forth trying to rattle my brain awake.  This storefront always got me this way.  So many memories.  So much history.  But none of it mattered now.

I grab the door handle and hear the familiar ding of the bell as I walk threw.  The comforting smell of leather and broom wax welcomes me as I am greeted by the owner Mr. Bliggins. 

"Y/N!," He waves from behind the counter, "Ready for the new season?"

I wave back as I walk toward the selection of gloves on display. 

"Ready as I'll ever be." I turn away from Mr. Bliggins and search for the familiar green in the sea of colors.

I'm so distracted by my search that I don't hear the ding of the bell as another customer walks into the shop, But I hear the voice.

"Mr. Bliggins! How are you today?"

I know that voice.  I've heard that voice my whole life.  It's gotten deeper over the years, but that voice is forever imprinted in my mind.

"Oliver, my boy", Mr. Bliggins shouts from the counter, "It's always good to see you! I'm well, I'm well. Anything I can help you find?"

"I'm wondering if you got any of the new Puddlemere United shirts in yet?"

I keep myself faced away from the conversation.  I don't want him to see me.  I don't want to talk to him. 

I've already found my gloves but I can't bring myself to move up to the counter.  I can feel the tears starting to build behind my eyes. 

I won't let him see me cry. 

I wipe the few tears that had begun to fall onto my cheeks and turn my head slightly over my shoulder.  I can see his back while he sifts threw the newest shirts on display on the other side of the store. This is my opening to run up to the counter and quickly purchase my gloves before he notices. 

Mr. Bliggins is standing at the ready as I place the gloves on the counter.

"Just these today Y/N?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see it.  The flash of those familiar chestnut eyes looking over at me at the announcement of my name.  Crap! 

Mr. Bliggins quickly rings up my gloves for me as I try not to notice that he is still staring at me.  Or maybe it's a glare.  I can't tell, but I'm not going to stay long enough to find out. 

I grab the gloves off the counter, thanking Mr. Bliggins before I sprint out of the store, not looking back.