This takes place in Harry's third year.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Rowling's. Sue me? Eh, no. I need my money for Christmas presen
~Broken Wings~
I can't believe you. Now, now! It's bad enough it's for always, but did you have to decide now?
I looked up to you. I really did. I guess in some ways, I still do.
But why are you being so stupid? So blind?
I can't believe you.
I saw him. He was across the courtyard, books tucked under his arms, head bowed. Snow swirled around him. He pulled his robes closer.
I can't believe you.
I was looking at him, watching him, with a gut feeling that was pretty close to hate.
But no. You can't hate Oliver Wood. He's that guy that holds the eye of every girl, the envy of every guy, the praise of every soul.
Then why am I hating you?
A sixth year walked up to him, stopped him. I halted in my tracks when I saw him lift his head and look at her with a bloodshot eye.
The other eye was covered with a cast.
" You were really great last week-" the sixth year began.
I saw him tense. He looked away, and his eye met mine.
I can't believe you.
He swallowed, bowed his head, walked away.
" Harry?"
A strong hand landed on my shoulder.
" Harry? We're going to be late for Potions."
I nodded, knew I should follow my friend, but somehow kept watching Oliver Wood.
" Maybe you don't care about detention, but I do."
I can't believe you. You're running away from us when we need you most!
" Harry?"
A bitter hand swept across my face in a slap. I blinked and glared.
" What was that for?!"
" Oh, good, you are awake." Ron shook his head. " Come on, Snape's gonna kill us for being almost late."
I nodded, looked back to where Oliver had disappeared.
I thought we mattered to you.
" Harry?"
I nodded again. " I'm coming."
His eyes searched my face. I avoided eye contact.
" You've been acting really weird....."
I laughed. " I've been acting weird?"
" Well, yeah." He paused. " This wouldn't be about Wood, would it?"
" Maybe."
Ron sighed. " You'll get along without him." He cocked his head. " I'm actually wondering if he'll get along without you guys."
" What do you mean?"
He shifted his books. " Think about it. Quidditch is his life, right?"
I nodded.
" How much do you think it hurts him to drop out?"
" He chose to drop out!" I snapped.
" Maybe, but under certain circumstances-"
I stopped walking. " I don't care why he dropped out! The fact that he's suddenly chicken on us-"
" He didn't chicken on you, he was hurt!"
I inhaled deeply and looked away from my best friend.
" Have you even talked to him?"
I shook my head.
" I know you're both guys, heck I'm a guy too, and I understand you don't want to talk, but it's what's going to help."
" You never talk," I pointed out.
" Well, yeah.....I'm not the best role model..." He glanced up. " Oh poppycock, we're going to hear it from Snape."
I didn't care what Snape could throw at me.
I can't believe you.
" Mr. Potter."
I looked up from my blank scroll. Snape strolled past me, black eyes studying me.
" I notice you're not taking notes."
I glanced at the paper in front of me. " Sorry, sir."
" Obviously." He snorted at me and continued down the aisle.
Talk to Wood. Yeah. Right.
I shook my head, dipped my quill in the ink bottle. I was going to pay attention, today. Forget about Oliver, forget about Ron. I was going to concentrate.
We've depended on you. You hold us together, you made us win. Your heart, your love for the game.
How could you.
" Mr. Potter!"
I sat straight up. A flow of black liquid poured over the edge of my desk.
Snape scowled. " Mr. Potter, can you imagine how much it costs me for every bottle of ink?"
I nodded gravely.
" Do you think I would be very angry with you if you were to waste my money?"
" Yes sir."
" Ten points from Gryffindor......go to Dumbeldor's office and get yourself cleaned up. And while your at it, bring back another bottle of ink." His eyes bore into me as he lifted his wand and summoned a hall pass. He handed it to me with rough hands.
I rose and slipped past him. Out in the hall, I clenched my fists.
" No dawdling, Potter! Ten minutes!"
I snarled at Snape's voice.
You're responsible for this. For everything!
I rounded a corner, wiping my black hand on my robes.
" Potter."
That voice. I froze. Didn't dare look up.
" What?"
There was a long silence before he asked, " What happened?"
" Ink," I answered.
" Talk to him."
Ron's words came back to me.
" Why....why are you out of class?" I asked, finally looking up at him. I expected to see his blue eyes, Oliver always looked directly at the person he was speaking to, but I found he wasn't looking at me.
" R-running an errand," he muttered. He fidgeted.
" For who?" I was prying, I knew it was wrong, I knew I should stop. I didn't know why I kept going.
" Madame Hooch."
He turned his good eye away from me. I was looking at a white cast of gauze pads, parts stained red. All around his eye was black and purple, dried cuts crawled up his forehead and temples. His jaw was unstable, and if I hadn't known what happened, I would've thought he was going to cry. He was shivering, though it was warm in the castle.
" When......" I paused. " When will it.....you know..."
" Heal?" he finished. He shrugged. " I don't know."
" Are you coming back?"
Maybe he was. Maybe his leave was temporary.
The muscles in his face tensed. " You heard what I said."
" What did you say?"
His breathing quickened. " You're not making this any easier, Potter."
" I want to hear you say it."
" Why?"
I swallowed. " To know it's the truth, or if you're just lying again."
" I would never lie..."
" Then what's this charade?"
He turned his eye on me. " I'll never fly again, Potter, and that's the god damned truth."
It should have come out as a yell. It came out
as a whisper. And that whisper dug deeper into me than any yell would.
" You have to be patient with Wood," Angelina Johnson told me softly. Her fingers expertly ran a polishing cloth over her broom. " What happened to him...it doesn't happen often."
" He's still chicken," I muttered.
" Would you be?"
Her question made me stop working on my broom. " What?"
" Would you be willing to climb onto a broom again and fly at altitudes usually reserved for birds? To be attacked again and again by balls of all sizes and players of all sizes?" She reached out and touched my shoulder. " He will come back, there is no way to ground Oliver Wood. Not your magic, not mine, not You-Know-Who's, not Dumbledor's. No magic could keep him from flying again."
I don't know why, but I felt I was going to cry. " But he sounded so certain."
" Yeah......and he will, for as long as he hurts. He was lucky to survive that attack, Harry." There was almost a quiver in her voice.
You love him.
And I hate him.
" I wish he would.....," I threw my polishing rag on the ground, ".......wake up!"
Angelina was silent a few moments. " He'll never see out of that eye again. It can't be cured, not by magic."
I shook my head, whispered, " Not by Muggles either."
" He may fly again, but I doubt he'll ever play the game again."
The Common Room door opened. Both Angelina and I looked to see who entered.
It was Oliver.
" Hello, Oliver." Angelina greeted him with a warm smile. " Feeling better?"
He nodded politely.
" Do you know when....?"
He shook his head and cleared his throat. " Hooch has found you a new...." He paused long enough to shake. "...a new captain."
You're not coming back.
You weren't lying.
You're not coming back.
My mouth went dry with realization. I tried swallowing, found that it hurt.
Everything hurt today.
" Her name is Jasmine O'Brien. She was recommended by a school in Italy.....she'll be your Keeper." Oliver paused again, closed his eye, swallowed. He opened his mouth to say something more, then decided against it and stepped aside to reveal the new captain.
" Jasmine?" Angelina asked.
The girl behind Oliver nodded and pushed a strand of her inky black hair behind her ear.
Angelina stuck out her hand. " I'm Angelina Johnson, one of the Chasers."
Jasmine smiled and took Angelina's hand. " There's another girl on the team?"
" This.." Oliver coughed and motioned to me. " This is Harry Potter, your Seeker."
Jasmine's eyes widened. " Harry Potter?" My name rolled off her tongue perfectly, accent made it fluent. She put out her hand to take my own. " I've heard so much about you. It's an honor to be your captain."
" The honor's mine," I muttered. I withdrew my hand and glared at Wood.
" I think the rest of the team in asleep," Oliver told Jasmine, averting his eyes to avoid mine. " Angelina can introduce them to you tomorrow."
" Oh? Can't you introduce us?" Jasmine asked.
Oliver shook his head. " N.....no."
There was an awkward silence.
" Well, Jasmine," Angelina started, " the girls' dorms are up this way....so, just follow me."
Jasmine nodded at her. " Yes, thank you very much." She turned to me. " It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I can't wait to tell my grandmother about all this!"
" Good night," I told her.
" Good night." She blushed and hurried up after Angelina, waving.
She left Oliver and me alone.
I can't believe you're not coming back.
I can't believe you're abandoning us.
I can't believe you.
" I think she'll make a good captain," Oliver said softly.
" Yeah," I agreed. I agreed with no heart.
Oliver sighed. " Maybe she can keep the Slytherins in line."
" You did."
He laughed nervously. " No, not at all."
Talk to Wood.
I can't believe you're talking me into this, Ron.
You're not even here.
" Wood..." I started.
" No, Potter. I'm not." He sat down in a red velvet arm chair. " I can't."
I started to clean up the small mess I had made polishing my broom. I kept trying to forget Oliver's presence.
" Are you upset with me, Harry?"
" Not at all," I snapped. Clumsy fingers grabbed my polish container, dropped it. " Crap."
I heard Oliver rise and walk across the room. He bent with me to clean the mess.
" Can't you understand? I can't go back, not like this." Defeat was evident in his voice. It was all I heard. Defeat.
I grabbed my rag and ran it over the red carpet.
" I can't go back blind."
" You still have one good eye."
He shook his head. " Harry, you don't get it. I was blind when I had both eyes. Blind to the point that I didn't see him coming!" His fist hit the carpet, his breathing quickened. " I wasn't blind when he hit me. Oh no, let me tell you, I saw my death in his eyes." He stopped rubbing the carpet free of the polishing gel. I followed suit, watching him.
" I was afraid I was going to die. Fifty feet in air never felt longer." He tried to laugh, failed. " I've fallen from my broom before, more times than I can count, but I've never been forced off it. I've never been attacked like that." He closed his eye. " I've never been scared in my entire life.......not until then."
A single tear traced down his right cheek, falling from his one sparkling blue eye, and he screamed.
" Oliver?!"
He put one hand over his bandaged eye, dropped closer to the ground. His scream ceased, but only because his teeth were holding it in.
I crawled closer to him, put my hand on his back. " Oliver? Are you all right?"
He nodded, inhaled deeply, shakily. " I'm fine," he muttered breathlessly. He rose to his knees, reached out his hand for something to grab on. I offered my arm, and he took it in one of his strong hands. With my help, he pulled himself to a chair, fell into it. " Ice?" he panted.
" What?"
" Ice. Get ice." Another tear fell down his cheek and he tensed again. " Now." His voice was soft, a whisper of pain.
I nodded quickly, jumped up. There was an ice box in the Common Room. Fred and George were always storing odds of this and that in it.
I opened the box, dipped my hand into the cold, grabbed a handful of ice. My hand was numb within seconds.
Oliver was removing his bandage when I returned to him. His good eye was shut tight, teeth gritted tightly.
" Oliver, I've got ice."
He removed the gauze pad, took the ice from me, and pressed it to his damaged eye. He began to relax once the cold touched his skin.
" What happened?" I asked softly. I took a seat next to him.
" The tear...." he whispered. " It burned."
I felt I had to say something.
I had nothing to say.
" What's happening to me, Harry?" he asked quietly.
I shook my head. " I don't know."
" Why can't I go back? Why can't I fly again?" He removed the ice from his eye. Water from the melting cube ran down his face. The injured eye twitched, opened slowly. He turned his head to look at me. Both eyes were facing me, I looked into both eyes, but only one of his saw me. His damaged one was watching me, as if it were normal, but it was hazy. Clouds covered the blue sea in his eye, he couldn't see out of it.
I reached out a hand and took his free one. " I'm sorry."
Looking at him, watching the strong and fearless Quidditch captain break down in front of me....it made me think. What I had seen was Marcus Flint hurtling towards the Gryfiindor Keeper. He shoved him, pushed him from the broom. And Wood fell, hit the ground, lay still. More had happened, I knew he had hit one of the posts he was guarding head on, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
When he stayed in the hospital wing, it was only for broken bones and stitches. He would come out strong and fearless again and jump right back on the broom and have his revenge.When he did show up, limping, bandaged, head bowed.....when he told me he would never fly again......I never understood why. So you take a hit. Recover and get back on your feet.
I never knew it hurt him inside.
He was crying again. The ice was put back on his eye, he bowed his head. His shoulders shook with each breath, he was shivering.
" Oliver....." I whispered. I rose and sat right next to him, put my arm across his shoulders. " I'm real sorry."
" I have wings, Potter," he whispered. " I want to use them."
" You will, someday."
He looked up at me.
" I promise you will fly again."
A/N: A cliffhanger ending, I know. I intend to continue it, so don't worry. Expect more Wood fics from me. ^_^