Disclaimer: It's been a long day, but still when it comes down to it, Harry Potter is not mine.

When he was 4, Oliver was playing on his broom. He had a snitch that he was chasing around outside. He was probably going too high off the ground for a boy his age, but it didn't matter as long as he got the snitch. It was right there, just an inch out of his reach, so he leaned forward just enough to get that tiny golden ball. But that extra lean put him off balance and he fell, breaking his arm. It didn't matter though, because when he could finally open his fingers, that tiny little golden ball was there. But seeker probably wasn't for him if he was going to break his arm every time he tried to catch the snitch.

When he was 5, he was messing around with a bludger and the beater's bat. He had seen some people on TV swinging it sideways, so he was trying it like that. It was called baseball, so he just wanted to try it out like the other boys his age. It didn't work out too well though when he missed and the bludger hit him right in the face. He couldn't care less though, because it was all for quidditch. Even if he was missing a couple teeth, it wasn't that bad. He just decided that being a beater probably wasn't for him because you have to hit the ball, not have it hit you.

When he was 6, he was throwing a quaffle through a hula-hoop that was tied on a tree branch. His dad would pick up the strangely shaped ball and would throw it back to him. Well one time it bent his fingers back and he heard them pop. He gasped in pain, but didn't cry. After all, it was for quidditch. He just decided that chaser wasn't for him because after all, you couldn't have a chaser who couldn't catch.

When he was 7, Oliver had his dad try to score on him while he was in front of the hoop. He found that he could block every single shot that went at him, even if he did hit the tree one time. The bump on his head was nothing compared to the smile lighting up his face. He had finally found the perfect position for him. He was going to be a keeper.

When he was 10, he missed his best friend's birthday party. His friend was so mad, but he didn't have a logical reason that he could explain to a muggle, so he didn't. They never talked again. At first he felt bad, but then he got good news. The reason he missed had paid off. He had made the little league quidditch team. He didn't worry about anything because friends come and go in life. Quidditch was his future.

When he was quidditch captain at Hogwarts, nothing could stop him. Not the weather, not the fans, not even his own team. He made sure he would win, even if that meant warning his seeker to wait to catch the snitch until they had so many points. It was his pitch and no one could tell him what to do on it. He ran his drills at his time at his pace.

When he left Hogwarts, he went on to be a keeper on the Puddlemere United Reserve Team. All the times that he had put quidditch first finally paid off. He got his dream.

Anyone who would fall in love with this quidditch fanatic would have to remember one thing. Oliver Wood's first love was quidditch. And quidditch always comes first for Oliver Wood.

A/N: Just an idea that came to me. Please Review! :)