Work Text:
Radiant Glasspetal walked onto the Quidditch Pitch carrying two brooms in one hand and the end of a large wooden crate in the other. Carrying the opposite end of the box was Oliver Wood.
“Nice sweater,” she said, eyeing the black turtleneck.
“Thanks. Mum made it.” Oliver set the chest down and looked around. “Now where is — ah, there he is.”
Radiant looked up.
Flying in and out of the goalposts and speeding up and down the field was a small figure on a broom.
“Hey, Potter, come down!” Oliver shouted.
Harry Potter, the famed Boy Who Lived, landed in front of both of them. Radiant could just see the lightning scar on his forehead through his messy black hair.
“Very nice,” Oliver said with a glint in his eyes. “I can see what McGonagall meant… you really are a natural.” He pointed to Radiant. “This is Radiant Glasspetal. She’s on the team as well.”
Radiant held out her hand. Harry shook it.
“We’re going to teach you the rules this evening, then you’ll be joining team practice three times a week.”
He nodded to Radiant. She kicked open the chest, revealing four different sized balls.
“Right,” said Oliver. “Quidditch is easy enough to understand. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are Chasers.”
He motioned to Radiant.
“Glasspetal here is one of the best.”
Radiant fanned her face, grinning. “Oh Ace, you flatter me.”
Harry looked between them both, his green eyes wide. “Three Chasers,” he repeated.
Oliver took out the Quaffle with a smirk, tossing it to Radiant. She spun it on her finger before handing it to Harry. He caught it with a tiny grunt.
“This one here is the Quaffle,” Radiant said. “The other Chasers and I throw it around through the hoops to score points. The team gets ten points every time it goes through the Hoops. You follow?”
“The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score.” Harry repeated. “So, it’s like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?”
“What’s basketball?” asked Oliver curiously.
“You know what golf is but not basketball?” Radiant snorted.
“Do you know what basketball is Glasspetal?” Oliver smirked in the silence that followed. “That’s what I thought.”
He turned back to Harry.
“Now the Keeper” — Oliver smiled — “that’s me, defends the hoops. Still with me so far?”
“I think so. Three Chasers, one Keeper.” He pointed to the other three balls. “What are those?”
Radiant bent down, pulling out a Beater’s bat. She handed it to Harry.
“You’re going to want that,” said Radiant. She stepped back, placing a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
“We’re going to show you what Bludgers do.” Oliver pointed at the smaller black balls that looked like they were trying to break free. “These two are the Bludgers.”
“Stand back,” Radiant warned.
Oliver bent down and released one of the Bludgers.
The black ball rose into the sky then fell back down at Harry’s face. Harry swung the bat, knocking the ball towards Oliver and Radiant. Wood dove on top of it right before it smacked her in the chest.
“See?” Oliver panted as he forced the Bludger back into the crate. “The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That’s why you have two Beaters on each team — Radiant’s cousins, the Weasley twins are ours — it’s their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and knock them toward the other team. You got all that?”
Harry nodded.
“Good!” said Radiant, clapping her hands.
“Have… uh, the Bludgers ever killed anyone?”
“Never at Hogwarts,” Oliver said. “Glasspetal’s brother, Arthur, broke his jaw once, but it was healed pretty quickly.”
Harry looked at Radiant, his eyes wide. Radiant shrugged.
“He just couldn’t snog for about a week. He was fine.”
“Moving on. The last member of the team is the Seeker. That’s you.”
Oliver reached inside of the crate and held out the fourth and final ball: a tiny golden one with wings on it.
“This,” said Oliver, “is the Golden Snitch.”
“I like this one!” Harry said, taking the tiny ball in his palm.
“Aye, you like it now, but it’s bloody fast and damn near impossible to see.”
Radiant put her arm on Oliver’s shoulder, leaning down. “You catch it Harry, and we get one hundred and fifty points.”
Oliver put his arm around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Any questions?” He asked.
Harry shook his head.
“We won’t practice with the Snitch yet,” said Oliver. He shut the chest with the back of his foot, his arm still around Radiant’s waist. “Don’t want to lose it. Let’s see how you fare with a couple of these.”
He pulled out a bag of golf balls from his pocket. Radiant reached for the two brooms, mounting one of them.
“You know, this feels like we’re teaching our kid.” She said offhandedly.
Oliver nearly fell off of his broom. His face was slightly flushed.
“Yer aff yer heid.”
Radiant hung upside down on her broom in front of him, grinning. She grabbed one of the golf balls and threw it for Harry to catch.
“Maybe. But you love it.”
“Sure I do Glasspetal. Whatever helps you catch the Quaffle.”
“Shut up you stupid Scotsman.”
Harry didn’t miss a single golf ball that was thrown by either of them, both of the older teens' excitement growing by the minute.
“That Quidditch Cup’ll have our name on it this year,” Oliver said, putting his arms around Radiant and Harry’s shoulders. “With a Chaser like her and a Seeker almost as good as Charlie Weasley, the other three houses don’t stand a chance.”