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captainsophiestark · 1 year

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Thunderbolts and Lightning

Oliver Wood x Reader

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Written for my Year of Olympians, part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which features a ton of creators and runs all year! Go check it out if you haven’t already!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: Zeus; the sky, lightning, thunder

Summary: Oliver Wood is *determined* to make it onto a professional Quidditch team. Tryouts are coming up, but without Y/N to pull him back and keep him in the sanity zone, he might not survive long enough to even make it to the pitch.

Word Count: 2,540

Category: Angst, fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I sat down at the breakfast table, my eyes only half-open. I didn't want to be awake at all this early, literally as the sun still rose outside the windows, but Oliver, my boyfriend, needed me. He had tryouts for the major professional Quidditch teams in just four days, and he'd been driving himself crazy with stress and preparation as the big day approached.

As I sank into the chair next to him, trying to muster the energy to chat about literally anything other than Quidditch to help take his mind off things, he stood.

I turned, bleary-eyed, to squint up at Oliver in question. He sighed and tangled a hand in the hair at the back of my neck, staring at me fondly before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he pulled back and stepped a few paces away, and I realized he was wearing his Quidditch clothes.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I've got to go get some more practice hours in," he said. He looked just as tired as I did, and he slouched despite the broom over his shoulder. The prospect of playing Quidditch usually lit him up like a Christmas tree, but not now. "The tryout's only three days away, and I can't waste this opportunity."

"I- Oliver, are you sure?" I asked, trying to gather my thoughts as I struggled to stand up. I was not awake yet. "You've been working yourself ragged lately, maybe you should take a break-"

"I can't afford to take a break. I have to ace this tryout, which means I have to get as much practice as possible before then."

"Okay, but Ollie-"

"I'm alright, love, I promise," he said, pausing long enough to give me a confident (if tired) smile. "I'll see you later tonight. If you're up for it, maybe you could help me practice a little later too. The charmed Quaffles are great, but you're definitely a better Chaser than a charm."

I just stared back at him, my brain still operating a little slowly. He gave me another smile, then raised his wand and swished it confidently through the air. Just like that, he disappeared.

I sighed. The only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed, immediately. But I loved Oliver more than I wanted to go back to sleep. And he may have said he was fine, but I didn't believe him for half a second.

Just like at Hogwarts, I needed to suit up and head to the Quidditch pitch at the crack of dawn. And, just like Hogwarts, I needed to make sure my wonderful, driven, fantastic, and crazy boyfriend didn't completely run himself into the ground in pursuit of his goals.

Suddenly more awake now that I knew Oliver needed me, I rushed to put on my Quidditch robes. I shot a blast of magic back over my shoulder with my wand, quickly brewing a pot of coffee while I changed. I grabbed as much caffeine as I could in a go-mug, then moved to where Oliver stood a few seconds ago and Disapparated to the Quidditch pitch.

I arrived to find dark clouds moving quickly over the pitch, starting to block out the barely-risen sun. Still, my boyfriend hovered between the hoops, bewitched Quaffles flying at his face. He blocked one after the other with no problem, like he always did. He didn't need this practice. He needed to take care of himself. But this was basically the only way he knew how to handle stress.

I sighed, then used my wand to disappear my empty coffee cup before hopping on my broom, pushing off, and taking to the sky.

"Ollie!" I called, waving to him as I got closer to the pack of hovering Quaffles. He looked confused for a second, but then his face lit up when he saw me.

"Y/N! You came!" he cried. I sighed, but smiled at him nonetheless.

"Of course! I'm always here for you, no matter what."

We shared a soft look, and my heart warmed despite the distance between us, the biting wind cutting through my robes, and the tiredness still hovering around me. Then, I grabbed the nearest Quaffle, and we began.

Oliver locked into the zone quickly, and I could see his brain working a mile a minute as I streaked across the field towards him, Quaffle ready to throw. Despite my best efforts, Oliver blocked almost everything that came at him, just like I knew he would. He really didn't need this practice; he was a cinch for the pros.

Still, he wanted to keep working, so I kept flying down the pitch at him. The sky continued to darken around us and the wind picked up, but I didn't say anything until the first few drops of rain started to fall.

"Oliver?" I called, pausing at his end of the pitch after he made another fantastic save. He floated back up to me and tossed me the Quaffle, looking more than ready for the next round, but I didn't budge.

"What's the matter?" he asked. I squinted up at the dark clouds and rain above us, then looked back at Oliver.

"I think it might be time to call it a day," I said. Oliver frowned, looking up at the sky himself for a minute and then shaking his head.

"No, I can't. I need to be able to play in conditions like this, I can't let it beat me." I started to say something in response, but he continued before I could. "If you want to call it a day, though, that's alright. I appreciate all the practice and help you've given me already."

"Honey... don't you think you should take care of yourself? Maybe come in from the cold and rain and give yourself a little rest?"

He waved me off, pulling out his wand to bewitch the Quaffles to fly at him again. "I'm doing fine. What I need is more practice. I'm starting to run out of time before the tryouts, after all."

I frowned, but floated back towards the ground anyway as Oliver resumed his training. I wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up by the fire in sweats with a nice cup of tea, but I couldn't bring myself to leave Oliver. So instead, I settled for huddling under the overhang of some of the stands around the pitch, slightly out of the rain and wind, and watching him.

As time went on, the storm just got worse. I was almost soaked to the bone, so I couldn't imagine how wet and tired Oliver must be getting up there. A bolt of lightning struck in the sky not too far from us, and I decided enough was enough.

I jumped back on my broom and took to the sky, determined to retrieve my boyfriend before he got seriously hurt or ill. I made it about halfway to him, then called over the wind and rain to try to get his attention.

"Ollie! I think you need to come in!"

He looked at me, seeming a little concerned, and then the next thing I knew a bolt of white hot light came streaking out of the sky and made contact with the front end of his broom.

"Oliver!" I screamed, my voice breaking as my boyfriend's broom exploded under him. He sank through the air, going limp and falling off the side, and after a second of panic I raced after him.

By some miracle, I managed to catch him before he hit the ground. He was incredibly heavy, so we half-flew half-fell to the ground, but I managed to keep him from hitting at full speed. As soon as we touched down in the grass, I started to drag him towards the pitch's locker rooms, the nearest possible shelter. Thank God he started to come to as we walked, and although he was more than a little delirious, he stumbled along next to me with an arm across my shoulders and my arm around his waist.

I shoved open the door to the locker rooms and Oliver and I stumbled through, leaving the storm behind us. I helped set him down on the nearest bench, then dropped to my knees in front of him, checking him over as quickly as I could for any sign of injury.

"Oliver? Are you okay?" I breathed, only half expecting an answer. He nodded, slowly, and after another minute or two I came to the conclusion that he was more rattled than actually hurt.

I sighed a massive breath of relief, then stood before collapsing down on the bench next to Oliver. We just sat there for a second, together in total silence, recovering from the shock of the past few minutes. Then, slowly, Oliver reached out and took my hand. He didn't turn to look at me, but he squeezed my hand, then spoke.

"Thank you for saving me," he said. I sighed and squeezed his hand back, closing my eyes for a minute. Then, I turned to face him.

"Oliver. I will always save you if I can. But the next time you decide to go do something insane like this, I might not be around to save you," I said. "I mean... what if I had decided to go back to bed this morning, like I was first planning to? What if you had left before I woke up, and I didn't know you were out here? You could be dead right now, Oliver!"

"I know, Y/N, I know..."

"No, Ollie, I don't think you do." I paused and took a deep breath, then took Oliver's hands again and faced him a little better on the bench. He met my eyes, and it gave me a warm feeling in my chest. "Oliver, you are so driven and determined. You've been working for this for your entire life, and it's wonderful to see how hard you're working for that goal. But you can't keep completely sacrificing and disregarding your own health and wellbeing for stuff like this. You just can't."

He sighed heavily, dropping his head a bit to stare at the floor. We stayed like that in silence for a few beats, and I let my words settle. Then, finally, he looked back up at me.

"You're right, I suppose," he said. "But I just... I can't make myself stop. Like you said, I've been working for this my entire life. For the most part, this has been my life. Quidditch, and almost nothing else. I... I'm terrified, Y/N, that after all the work I put in, all the time I dedicated... it's all going to be for nothing. If I fail this tryout, it all goes to waste, and I stop being able to do the thing I love."

"Oh, Oliver," I sighed, rubbing my hand up and down his arm to try to offer him some kind of comfort. I leaned into him, then continued. "I know it's probably not going to make you feel much better now, but this one single tryout is anything but the end for you."

He scoffed, clearly not believing my words, but I didn't let that deter me.

"First of all, there are plenty of players who didn't do well on their first tryout and had to come back and try it again," I said. "Some of your favorite players in fact, if memory serves."

Oliver hummed, giving me a little bit of acknowledgement, which I took as a good sign.

"And besides that, even if, for whatever reason, you don't make a professional team, that doesn't have to be the end-all be-all for doing what you love. You can always play for fun, or somewhere else without necessarily being on one of the fancy professional teams. You could even coach! But either way, there's plenty of ways for you to continue doing what you love, no matter the results of this tryout."

Oliver hummed as I leaned into him and continued.

"Besides, you don't need to worry anyway. You're the best damn Quidditch player I've ever seen, and I went to the Scotland vs Canada World Cup a few years ago."

Oliver huffed a laugh, but the small smile stayed on his face. He seemed to be feeling a little cheerier, thankfully, since he'd been in a very bad place almost all day. I gave him a second, resting my head on his shoulder as I could hear the storm quieting outside, before I played my last card to finish making my case.

"Not to mention, Oliver, that you can't play Quidditch if you're dead thanks to a lightning strike after insisting on practicing in insane weather like this."

He took a deep breath in, and I leaned back to look at him as he let the breath out in a long, long sigh. Finally, after a second, he turned to me.

"You're not wrong," he sighed, giving my hand a light squeeze. I met his warm brown eyes as he continued. "I don't want to have to resort to any other opportunities, but if I get struck by lightning, that's going to hurt my chances at these tryouts more than anything else could."

He hesitated, glancing briefly at the ground, and then he met my eyes again, his attention more focused on me than it had been in any of the Quidditch craziness so far.

"Thank you, Y/N. For taking care of me. Especially when I'm so bad at taking care of myself."

I gave him a soft smile, happy to be here with him, especially after watching him literally get blown out of the sky.

"I'll always watch out for you, Ollie. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

I leaned in at the same time as him, sharing a soft, lingering kiss before pulling apart. After a second, he sighed, then stood up from the bench.

"It doesn't look like the weather's going to be good enough for practice any time soon," he announced. "So, what do you say we go home and rest by the fire instead?"

"Oliver, I can't think of anything I'd want more," I said with a smile as I stood to join him. He met my smile with a tired one of his own, then took my hand before gathering up both of our brooms.

"Would you do the honors?" he asked. I nodded.

"I'll even make the tea, if you're willing to start the fire."

"You have a deal," he said. We shared another calm, comfortable smile, and then I raised my wand and disapparated both of us back to our cozy, wonderful apartment. As promised, Oliver went to put our brooms away before going to start the fire as I got tea started on the stove. Before today, I honestly couldn't have imagined Oliver willingly taking a break from Quidditch to relax with me at home. And although it would probably still be a fairly rare occurrence, after today it seemed far less than completely impossible.

Nothing like a near-death experience to completely change someone's life view, I suppose.

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