Chapter 46
Oliver was getting tired of waking up in the hospital wing. He sat up quickly, staring back at his teammates that surrounded the bed.
“Did we win?!” Oliver blurted out immediately, which granted him several sets of eye rolls.
Alicia sighed, “Yes Oliver we won, but you took a bludger right to the chest and were knocked out pretty early on, don’t you remember?”
Olive nodded briskly, ignoring the pain in his gut. “Yes, yes, of course I remember. That’s not important. You said we won?!”
The girls shook their heads bemusedly sharing exasperated looks with one another as Fred answered.
“Harry was brilliant! Stood up on his broom and practically ate the snitch!” Fred laughed.
“It was nothing, really,” Harry mumbled sheepishly from where he stood next to the twins, Ron and Hermione right behind him.
“Nothing?! That sounds fantastic Potter! Now everyone will know how great we’re really going to do this season!” Oliver grinned at him, wincing slightly as he lay back down.
“That Slytherin Beater really got an earful from Madam Hootch and McGonagall. He’s been benched for the next two games. Not kicked off entirely, I imagine that’s Snape’s doing but still. Better than nothing I suppose,” Katie said with a shrug.
Oliver’s thoughts wandered for a moment. If it was a beater then that means it wasn’t Marcus. He felt a surge of relief at that thought. Perhaps Marcus had learned his lesson, obviously it had nothing to do with their…relationship? Were they together? Oliver felt overwhelmed by that thought for a moment. They were only thirteen but they had kissed, held hands, spent some time together, they had to be….right?
“Right, I think I’m all set here,” Oliver said suddenly, startling the group that surrounded his bed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Absolutely not!” Madam Pomfrey’s stern voice caused Oliver to freeze in his movements, his feet barely touching the floor before the hospital wing seemed to spin, and a wave of nausea hit him.
“Get him back down please,” Madam Pomfrey told Fred and George briskly as they guided Oliver back to the bed.
“I’m alright,” Oliver replied gruffly, trying to shake the feeling off of him.
Madam Pomfrey snorted. “I had to fix two of your ribs Mr Wood, you will be staying here tonight. No arguing! I can end visiting hours early you know,” she told him sternly, as Oliver opened his mouth to argue.
Oliver sighed and laid back down, worrying about Marcus wasn't going to do him any good. He should be focusing on getting back on the pitch. “Sorry Madam Pomfrey,” He grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly.
Madam Pomfrey tutted at him, before she walked away she added more to herself than anyone present, “So much like your parents.”
Oliver stared after her a moment, surprised that she knew not just one of his parents, but both. He hadn’t thought much about his father these past months, knowing he had been killed by a dragon had put a dent in his need to find anymore information. Did Madam Pomfrey remember his father from school? Did he often end up in the hospital wing?
Angelina cleared her throat, “We'll let you get some rest Captain. We have practice in a few days, we’ll need you back for that.”
Oliver grinned at his team and friends, trying to shake the thoughts of his father out of his mind. “Oh I’ll be there, don’t you worry. Good job again, Harry. You’ve really been a great addition to the team, keep it up.”
Harry smiled back at him. “Thanks Oliver.”
They all shuffled out of the hospital wing, leaving Oliver alone, in a restless silence. His brain immediately began jumping around. Quidditch, his mother, his father, Marcus, and there, at the back of his mind, was Charlie. Why hadn’t he come to visit? Marcus he understood, no matter how much he disliked it, he couldn’t be seen visiting Oliver after the match. What would the Slytherins, or even the Gryffindors think of that? Sighing, Oliver stared up at that ceiling, knowing it was going to be a long night.
~~~~//~~~~
Oliver woke sometime later, surprised to see there was someone beside his bed. Dark hair and green eyes stared back at him. It was Marcus, looking freshly showered and tired. He held a plate of food with a small amount of dinner on it.
“Here, Madam Pomfrey said you should be able to eat by now. Most of the nausea should have worn off,” Marcus told him softly.
Oliver blinked, still surprised that Marcus was actually here. “Thanks Marcus…no offense but what are you doing here?”
Marcus looked hurt by that question and Oliver immediately regretted asking it that way. “I wanted to see if you were okay after getting hurt. I didn’t want to show up when your team was here earlier obviously but I needed to know if you were doing alright Oliver.”
Oliver took a sip of the pumpkin juice on his bedside table, before responding. “I’m fine, a little sore. I appreciate you coming to see me. I know that it’s kind of…risky for you. You even brought me dinner?”
Marcus blushed, making Oliver grin in turn. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be hungry. It was stupid, you got hit right in the gut, but luckily it saved Madam Pomfrey a trip down there. She was pretty grateful.”
“Well, I’m pretty grateful too,” Oliver said with a laugh, enjoying how nervous Marcus seemed.
“I’m really sorry that you ended up in here. I nearly hexed Avery. I was so furious with him hurting you.”
Oliver set his plate aside and reached over to give Marcus’ hand a squeeze. “I think that would have made things pretty awkward for you,” he teased.
Marcus huffed, “Well the idiot hurt my boyfriend and I really didn’t want to let it-” He broke off, clamping his mouth shut, his green eyes wide with alarm.
Oliver stared back at him in shock, but he did not pull his hand away. In fact, he squeezed it reassuringly. So, that answers one question on the list, he thought to himself. “I’m your boyfriend huh?” Oliver asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension.
Marcus sputtered nervously, “That is…i mean…if you want to be… and want me to be..”
Oliver laughed, ignoring the pain in his side that it caused, leaned forward and kissed Marcus to stop his rambling. “Of course you’re my boyfriend,” he said once he pulled away.
They both practically leapt apart at the sound of Madam Pomfrey’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying dinner Mr. Wood,” she smiled kindly at the two of them. There is another visitor waiting outside whenever you are finished here Mr Flint. No hurry.”
Oliver and Marcus pulled their hands apart hurriedly. “I should probably get back to the common room anyway. Rest up Oliver, we’ll be winning next time.”
Oliver laughed, “I wouldn’t count on it Marcus,” he replied, practically glowing at the fact that Marcus had called him Oliver and not Wood in front of someone else. Small steps, but progress nonetheless.
Madam Pomfrey watched him go, before turning back to Oliver. “I won’t mention a word to anyone Mr Wood. Your business is your business. Now, should I let Mr Weasley come in or would you like to eat some more first?”
Oliver’s stomach twisted in knots, and it had nothing to do with the bludger. “Charlie’s here?”