To: Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Molly Weasley and Lee Jordan

( To the people I care for )

*collapses on the couch, the clock ringing exactly 4 in the morning* *after a moment, a tumbler and a small, unopened bottle of whisky drop neatly on the cushion, looking just as forlorn as he does* *picks up the botle and twists off the top, pouring out a thin layer of amber liquid- knows it wouldn't take much to get him drunk* *takes a sip and tries not to choke on it, shivering instead*

*the conversation had been fierce, mainly from his own mouth* *four generations of Woods, Smiths and even the Wrights, making a rare trip from the Ebudae, had been stuffed into his great uncle's house, arguing over the state Wizarding affairs (or, as it was called, That British Nonsense), over Zacharias lying poisoned in hospital*

*it was an easy decision to make for the eldest- they were still so entrenched in their own little society, circles of forests and working for Nimbus and keeping to themselves* *But it was difficult for the younger set, especially for Evie and himself, the only two of the latest generation to venture outside of the usual family employment, to live in cosmopolitan areas... save for Zach...*

*the family was going Deep, it had been decided* *preparations would begin in the morning to withdraw their footprint from the Wizarding World until this new threat had passed* *letters of resignation would be turned in, Julian's kids would be pulled from Hogwarts, essentials would be gathered and stocked, the forest roads would be shifted just so, paths shifted to make the Wood, Smith and Wright households nigh impossibly to be found* *all that mattered was survival of the line and this had worked in pasts to numerous to be remembered*

*wonders if he's being selfish in his arguing and knows it's true* *sips again, adding another shallow layer* *won't leave Quidditch, won't leave Percy, won't cower to the threat* *there was a wall being built and he wouldn't be behind it, chose not to be behind it (not that this was expulsion or excommunication: they were waiting patiently for him to come to his senses)* *quietly, frowning* Bit old to run under your Mum's skirts.

*thinks about the way his parents looked at him when when he went against them, another decision in the long line of decisions he's made they've never approved of: Quidditch Keeper, Homosexual, living in England, this* *takes another sip, nearly draining the glass* *is feeling it now, his head starting to swim* *finds himself twirling his wand between his fingers before he knows it, his glass abandoned*

*arms are suddenly around his shoulders, lips against his neck, words in his ears, questions he just doesn't want to answer now* *leans his head against Percy's resting on his shoulder and pats Percy's joined hands at his chest* *murmurs* I love you.

*the next thing he knows, it's morning and he's hungover and his blood sugar is shite*

*comes in through the fireplace, immediately stretching his arms over his head, shoulders popping*

Hullo sweetheart. *grins at the pet name* My poor ignored sweetheart.

*unwraps himself from his cloak and scarf, dumping it on the ground* Miss me?

*comes out of the bath, towel over his shoulders and no where else* *eyes look up automatically as he slips into the bedroom, spotting Percy pulling out pyjamas from the dresser* *looks away sullenly, going towards the bed and untangling his dressing gown from the covers he didn't set back the night before*

*generally doesn't fancy going out to each much, but this place is his favourite... probably because his aunt owns it* *elbows balance against the table, holding his head up, smiling at Angie*

*smiles as their sandwiches are dropped down on the table, sitting up more* *sips at his water*

Lee and Kingsley, huh? What a torrid life you lead, Ang. *smirk*

Who: Oliver and Percy
Where: Puddlemere United Ball at Claridge's
When: New Year's Eve
What: Oliver is a horny bastard. Really. NC-17

That I'm a megalomaniac bent on Quidditch World Domination?

*when he slides alongside Percy, glass of fizzing cider in one, champagne in the other, it's with a cushion of air between them, a hand settling on his shoulder, rather than Percy's waist* *squeezes comfortingly as he slides next to him*

*grins at Calloway in mid sentence, waiting until he's done before nudging Percy along* Sorry- need to steal him away a moment.

*grins at Percy, handing him a glass of champagne*

Not talking shop, are you?

To: Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet
From: Oliver Wood

( Presents! )

To: George Weasley and Fred Weasley
From: Oliver Wood

( Presents )

To: Molly and Arthur Weasley
From: Oliver Wood

( Presents )

Owl Post To: Alicia Spinnet, Kathryn Bell, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Frederick Weasley, George Weasley, Charles Weasley, William Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Roger Davies, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Cassiopeia Sinistra, Marcus Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, Chadwick Warrington, et. al.

From: Nicholas O. Wood, Jr.

( in an guilded envelope )

*sits in the shower, leaning against the tile, one leg curled up to his chest, the other dead on the tile* *his head flopped back, striking the porcelain hard but he doesn't flinch* *the match hadn't been long at all-- 3 hours was about average and he'd played. He'd played WELL*

*not well enough*

*the scalding water hasn't stopped for the last two hours, his skin a boiled mauve because of it* *the air is stifling in the enclosed space but he doesn't want to breathe, doesn't care-- embraces the miserable feeling wholly*

*traces through the team prep the last week for the umptienth time, trying to find what he missed, some kink in the armour he built* *tries to trace through the match mentally, but halts that-- the loss is still too fresh to go over it with any sort of clarity* *tomorrow--yes, tomorrow is always better*

*rises up, turning off the water and slogging through the inch or two of water still draining out towards the benches* *the place is clear-- it always is after a loss* *imagines his teammates are off at the pub, drinking and laughing and resetting for next week and whatever hellish torment he can think of to put them through* *grins a little at the description of himself and sighs, not bothering to towel off* *pulls on Percy's sweater, thick, soft, comforting wool against his skin* *dresses, shoving his gear into his bag and tossing it over his shoulder*

*Trelissick Gardens isn't too far a walk and it's so much nicer than taking the Knight Bus back home to York* *shakes his head as he steps from the path-- Percy's home, York is just where Percy is, and save that--*

*the land shifts underneath him as he follows the Path away from Wales, kicking his feet through the dead leaves, no snow just yet but he can tell it's on it's way by the whistle of wind that winds around the skeletal branches* *trees stretch up for miles, so high the tips shoot into the gray clouds and vanish* *smiles softly as his mind jumps to Percy and his walls with those plastic bolts stuck in them and wonders if with a few weeks he'd be up to some real climbing*

*stretches out a hand, running the ends of his fingertips over the thick trunks as he ambles through the Forest, the soft hum of warmth, the slow pulse of hibernation drowning out everything inside of his head* *closes his eyes and meanders closer so it's not just fingertips, but the length of his fingers running over the bark, pale and brittle and comfortable*

Thought I might find you out and about here-- you're so bloody predictable, Nick.

*eyes open at his sister's voice, smiling just a shade at the unusual amount of gentleness there* *a dry, tired sort of grin* You've better'd made me something edible for dinner, Evie.

*hand slides into his and starts to pull his reluctant arse back into the real world*

Who: Oliver and Alicia
Where: Puddlemere United Stadium
When: Early this morning
What: Ollie vents to Alicia about The Weasley Dinner

Practise is going to be a bitch today so you'd better stretch well.

Who: Charlie and Oliver
Where: The Burrow
When: Ginny's Remeberance Dinner
What: Oliver's got to pay his respects


Captain, My Captain

*sighs as he rubs the polish over his broomstick in mindless motion, sitting crosslegged in the middle of the field* *abandons the cloth and just runs his fingers over the oak, grounding himself a little, shoulders relaxing a little*

*the evening had started so promisingly...*

*lies back on the damp grass, holding his broomstick up to the sky, examining it lazily, but mostly looking at the clouds beyond it*

*comes into the living room, leaving Percy to his Mum and sits down next to Charlie on the couch*

*smiles, nods* Captain, my captain.

To: Mrs. Weasley, The Burrow, Otter St. Catchpole, Devon
From: N. Oliver Wood, 1 York

Dear Mrs. Weasley,

My reason for correspondence is two-fold this evening. My name is Oliver Wood- I played Quidditch with Charlie, Fred and George and was in Percy's year at Hogwarts.

Percy Weasley, party of 2. He'll be there if I have to apparate him over piece by piece.

If what Percy has told me is correct, than I hope I can count on your support

You've raised a lovely You've raised a lovely man, Mrs. Weasley. I look forward to meeting you and Mr. Weasley on the 22nd.

Sincerely,
Oliver Wood

Who: Oliver and Lavender:
When: This afternoon, after the match
Where: Puddlemere
What: Oliver finally gets to meet Lavender

( So- you're the little minx that's been stealing all my best girls. )

Who: Oliver and Katie
Where: Seamus's Extravaganza
When: Early-middle of the evening
What: Kate is hawt

Wonder Kate

*walks over in his dirty white laboratory robes and carroty hair, smiling brightly through the mock up of Percy's glasses* *touches her shoulder, then snaps it back, blowing on his fingers, a wide grin*

Ouch- you're quite hot, aren't you?