Bit of Ivory

*sniff*

This is just tragic. Siriusly. I have to wonder about this– no Oliver Wood means, at the very least, reduced screen time for Quidditch. While Quidditch may not have been an extremely essential part of the last two films, in Prisoner of Azkaban it’s quite essential to the plot. Will we even see Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory? What about the Dementors storming the pitch? Harry won’t need Patronus lessons if that doesn’t happen. And Sirius won’t need to send Harry a Firebolt, so Harry and Hermione won’t fight. And. . oh, there’s just so much wrong with this decision. Eliminating Oliver Wood means some serious tampering with the plot. I’m going to have to add this to my List of Weird Decisions Regarding PoA That Make Me Wonder if the Thing Is Going to Be Any Good at All.

In honor of our loss, I’ve compiled this List of Brilliant Oliver Wood Moments In Prisoner of Azkaban That, Thanks to a Stupid Decision By Warner Bros., Will Never Be Immortalized On Film:

“Oliver Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desparation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.

‘This is our last chance—my last chance—to win the Quidditch Cup,’ he told them, striding up and down in front of them. ‘I’ll be leaving at the end of this year. I’ll never get another shot at it.

‘Gryffindor hasn’t won for seven years now. Okay, so we’ve had the worst luck in the world—injuries—then the tournament getting called off last year. . . .” Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. ‘But we also know we’ve got the best—ruddy—team—in—the—school,” he said, punching his fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.

‘We’ve got three superb Chasers.’

Wood pointed at Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.

‘We’ve got two unbeatable Beathers.’

‘Stop it, Oliver, you’re embarrassing us,’ said Frend and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.

‘And we’ve got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!’ Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. ‘And me,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘We thing you’re very good too, Oliver,’ said George.

‘Spanking Good Keeper,’ said Fred.

‘The point is,’ Wood went on, resuming his pacing, ‘the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I’ve thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven’t got it, and this year’s the last chance we’ll get to finally see our name on the thing. . . .’

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

‘Oliver, this year’s our year,’ said Fred.

‘We’ll do it, Oliver!’ said Angelina.

‘Definitely,’ said Harry.”

~*~

“‘We were playing in completely different conditions!’ Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. ‘Diggory’s put a very strong side together! He’s an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you’d take it like this! We musn’t relax! We must keep our focus! We must win!'”

~*~

“Harry had no room in his head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to him between classes and giving him tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harry suddenly realized he was ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after him, ‘Diggory’s got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him—'”

~*~

“The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood’s usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn’t come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.”

~*~

“‘Diggory got the Snitch,’ said George. ‘Just after you fell. He didn’t realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and sqaure . . . even Wood admits it.’

‘Where is Wood?’ said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn’t there.

‘Still in the showers,’ said Fred. ‘We think he’s trying to drown himself.'”

~*~

“The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Harry (in a hollow, dead sort of voice) that he didn’t blame him in the slightest.”

~*~

“Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.

‘Had a good Christmas?’ he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, ‘I’ve been doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one . . . I mean . . . we can’t afford you to—well—’

Wood broke off, looking akward.

‘I’m working on it,’ Harry said quickly. ‘Professor Lupin said he’d train me to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. He said he’d have time after Christmas.’

‘Ah,’ said Wood, his expression clearing. ‘Well, in that case—I really didn’t want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?’

‘No,’ said Harry.

‘What! You’d better get a move on, you know—you can’t ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!’

‘He got a Firebolt for Christmas,’ said Ron.

‘A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A—a real Firebolt?’

‘Don’t get excited, Oliver,’ said Harry gloomily. ‘I haven’t got it anymore. It was confiscated.’ And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.

‘Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?’

‘Sirius Black,’ Harry said wearily. ‘He’s supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.’

Waving aside the information that a famos murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, “But Black couldn’t have bought a Firebolt! He’s on the run! The whole country’s on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?’

‘I know,’ said Harry, ‘but McGonagall still wants to strip it down—’

Wood went pale.

‘I’ll go and talk to her, Harry,’ he promised. ‘I’ll make her see reason. . . . A Firebolt. . . a real Firebolt, on our team . . . She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do. . . . I’ll make her see sense. A Firebolt . . .'”

~*~

“‘Bad news, Harry. I’ve just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She—er—got a bit shirty with me. Told me I’d got my priorites wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn’t care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first.’ Wood shook his head in disbelief. ‘Honestly, the way she was yelling at me. . . . you’d think I’d said something terrible. . . .'”

~*~

“‘Harry, I’ve just found out who Ravenclaw is playing at Seeker. It’s Cho Chang. She’s a fourth year, and she’s pretty good. . . . I really hoped she wouldn’t be fit, she’s had some problems with injuries. . . .’ Wood scowled his displeasure that Cho Chang had made a full recovery, then said, ‘On the other hand, she rides a Coment Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt.’ He gave Harry’s broom a look of fervent admiration, then said, “Okay, everybody, let’s go—’

~*~

“It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood didn’t have a single criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.

‘I can’t see what’s going to stop us tomorrow!’ said Wood.”

~*~

“Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead—but just then, Cho appeared out of thin air, blocking him—

‘HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!” Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. “KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!”

~*~

“Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

‘So you must catch it only if we’re more than fifty points up,’ Wood told Harry constantly. ‘Only if we’re most that fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You’ve got that, haven’t you? You must catch the Snitch only if we’re—’

‘I KNOW, OLIVER!’ Harry yelled.”

~*~

“Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. . . .

‘Okay—no wind to speak of—sun’s a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it—ground’s fairly hard, good, that’ll give us a fast kickoff—’

Wood paced the filed, staring aroudn with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.

‘Locker rooms,’ said Wood tersely.”

~*~

“Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Angelina’s, Alicia’s and Katie’s voices, “We’ve won the Cup! We’ve won the Cup!” Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.”

“If only there had been a dementor around. . . .As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world’s best Patronus.”

~*~

*Sigh.*