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January 12, 1996 - Quidditch Tribune, Issue 7.9

Veteran Quidditch journalist Essie Howard sits down with Marcus Flint & Oliver Wood, the duo behind an infamous rivalry, to uncover the person behind the player.

&&&

Wood enters the restaurant with an easy confidence, and dressed in a way that makes florals seem sporty. He’s younger in person, a sharp contrast to the way Puddlemere has taken to posing their players on the season roster - out of his Quidditch garb, Wood is free of the intensity that’s expected of him. We sit down to breakfast, and Wood orders eggs sunny-side up, alongside the largest coffee the menu has to offer.

“It’s become a bit of an addiction,” he admits. “I used to be a morning person, but I need the extra kick, nowadays.”

I remark on the plain breakfast, to which Wood shrugs and informs me that pre-season eating is rarely exciting. “It’s been chicken and vegetables for the past month.” 

I grimace at the thought, and Wood laughs. It’s the little things behind the scenes that us ordinary people miss. 

Avid Quidditch fans are aware of the almost meteoric rise of Wood’s career; he had been, dare I say, overlooked at the first draft pick of the ’93 season, something which could be attributed to wrapping up his Hogwarts education when the fresh reaping had been made. Wood was a last minute pick for Puddlemere’s reserve Keeper position, one of three on the circuit. When now-retired Keeper and Captain Brian Burns suffered a concussion during an exhibition match, Wood had stepped in, and the rest was history - for the viewers, at least.

“So much of it is good timing.” Wood says, more serious at breakfast than the occasion would suggest. He tells me of the trials, a grueling two-week process where every bit of what makes a professional League player is judged. He had taken it all in stride, almost lived for those moments of learning and perfecting his game. It comes, no doubt, from years of dreaming of getting to professional Quidditch, and of continuously himself to the limits. Being approached by scouts is only the first step, Wood reminds me; the other ninety-nine percent comes from blood, sweat, and luck.

“It’s also hundreds of hours of practice, and being able to pick the brains of some of the brightest Quidditch strategists of this era.”

And pick their brains he does: Wood is often seen post-game, discussing with the opposition and Puddlemere coaches alike of where things had gone well, and more importantly, where things had gone awry. 

“Every time we lose, it’s an opportunity to get better,” Wood insists, before his face splits into an apologetic grin, “Although I hate losing.”

Of course, fans of Puddlemere and Wood know of the dark blot in his career: game seven of his second season resulted in a direct Bludger to the shoulder which, Wood tells me, shattered the entire bone. Fans had been devastated, but nothing could compare to the dark hole Wood found himself trying to escape for the following month.

“There was a moment when the healers were evaluating my movement that I thought it was all over,” Wood says. He is calm, as if telling just another story, and not something that had been scarily close to ruining his childhood dream. He seems far removed from it, although the mess of that season must still weigh on him. 

The circumstances of the injury was one for the public to gobble up. Falmouth Falcons Chaser Marcus Flint and Beater Violet Lynch had teamed up to take Wood out of the running in that game seven match, and had so obviously targeted Wood throughout that even Falmouth fans had been affronted. The League had imparted a hefty foul on Lynch, and banned Flint for six games. Fans had called for the removal of Flint, who had publicly owned up to orchestrating the entire affair. It had been Wood’s own firm refusal to endorse the motion that had kept Flint’s position in tact. Even now, Wood places no blame. 

“It’s Quidditch,” he states firmly, “We’re all prepared for the worst.”

It’s this straight to the point take on Quidditch that has so endeared Oliver Wood to Puddlemere fans. Wood’s dedication is infamous - his teammates have testified to him being the first to arrive, the last to go, and flying laps long into the night. Wood’s antics, coupled with his boyish good looks, have earned him a persona (the Quintessential Quidditch boyfriend, the boy-next-door) that he thinks is amusingly inaccurate.

“I don’t know if my teammates would agree,” Wood admits, “I don’t know if I’m that well-intentioned. I was a menace back as school captain. I think most people who meet me in real life, or know me, would be disappointed.”

Still, his humility may just be what fans have fallen in love with. Puddlemere attendance rates have skyrocketed with each of Wood’s appearances; news of his first-string move made headlines. Wood’s devotion to the game reigns supreme, and that level of ingenuity in a player so young is hard to come by, although him being easy on the eyes is no detriment.

He’s no pushover, though. Almost as large as Wood’s popularity - and perhaps, also, in contribution to it - is his rivalry against former schoolmate and aforementioned Falmouth player Marcus Flint. The game seven incident was not their first face-off; the two have come close to blows on multiple occasions. Alongside the fiery temper we all get to bear witness to is the sheer brilliance of watching the two face-off at the goal posts. It may not be a Krum vs. Watanabe situation yet, but it’s getting close. When I inform Wood that this article would be one of two, a dual investigation into both sides of the rivalry, he seems amused. 

“I think people see more there than there actually is,” Wood says, pouring himself some more coffee. “But I look forward to reading what you find out, on his end.”

“If I could get a hold of Flint,” I lament to Wood, to which he chuckled and quipped that maybe he could pull a few strings

“No guarantees,” Wood quickly amends. I indicate that I’m aware that rivalry only spans so far in terms of press decisions.

I ask if it’s a source of frustration, a personal mission, so to speak, but Wood’s response is neutral. 

“It once was,” he admits, “Hogwarts was so insulated, Quidditch wise, and Slytherin was always beating us [Gryffindor]...it was as much house pride as anything. But the League is so full of talent that I have to think about all the other opponents. I’d be daft not to. It can’t be a singular thing, you know? I’ve dreamt about this for so long - I can’t get tunnel vision.”

As to whether the animosity we spectators see in the air runs deep, Wood replies with, “The game is the game. I can’t speak for him, but that’s where it ends for me.”

Sitting across from him, it’s clear that Wood lives and breathes the sport; he pauses to receive an owl from his coach, and apologizes as he jots down what looks like a play on a spare napkin. The attention and singular focus is to the point where one wonders where Wood the athlete ends and where Oliver the person begins. My question causes Wood to pause over his coffee. 

“To be completely honest, there’s a very fine line. I’m still trying to figure that out.” Wood utters this carefully. I doubt I am the first to ask him this question, and he’s had practice phrasing what is a very personal issue in a digestible way. No one can blame him - it’s common knowledge in the League that players struggle with families, with relationships, and other personal commitments. When the job is constantly on the move and forever at practice, it’s no wonder so many players trade-off for one or the other. Wood acknowledges it, with the air of someone who has already felt the effects. 

“Family is really important to me,” he says, “That doesn’t change. It’s difficult to make room for much of anything else, but I do try. I’m slowly learning that that’s what makes the difference.” 

I feel there’s something hanging there, so I do what is natural and press about relationships, but Wood declines with a smile. He’s notoriously private about things non-Quidditch related, much to the chagrin of all of us reporters, but he passes it off so charmingly you can barely be annoyed that he’s not whetting our appetite for gossip. It doesn’t stop the tabloids from trying to catch him on dates, but Wood remains evasive. I wonder aloud if one day he’ll slip up. Wood sips his coffee and acknowledges that he’s human. Perhaps we will keep the cameras out just a little longer. 

Breakfast finishes with Wood receiving yet another owl, this time from Puddlemere captain Marion Perry. It seems urgent, which cuts our interview short - Wood apologizes profusely, but looks eager to get to the action. He informs me of how to get a hold of him (“Honestly, just owl me; I’m not too popular”) in case I’m in need of anything else for the piece, before waving and apparating away. 

As I leave the restaurant at my own slower pace, I realize that our meeting has left me with a nostalgia for the good old days of playing Quidditch with friends on chilly autumn mornings; that love remains, ever present, in the way Wood speaks about the game. Perhaps it is that unique quality that keeps us waiting and wanting to see more. 

 

&&&

 

It would be impossible to keep track of the fouls to Flint’s name (although dedicated fans have been sure to try). I had only met Flint in person once before, after his MVP award of the ’95 season. There have always been questions surrounding Flint’s reputation, but his demeanor for the press gives nothing away - the moment the scuffle ends, he is often seen retreating as if nothing has happened. It is both frustrating and coy; no doubt, Flint and his team know exactly what they’re doing.

For every critic of Flint’s antics, there’s someone who loves it. It makes sense - while the Falcons are disastrously bloody on their best days, they’re also massively loved. Quidditch is as much tactics as entertainment to the general populace, and Flint plays easily into that. He wrapped up the ‘95 season with both a championship and a scandal under his belt, a dichotomy that split public opinion but kept his name on every Quidditch fan’s tongue. 

Getting ahold of Flint proved one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do so far in my role here at Quidditch Tribune. What took a week to set up with Wood took a good month and a half with Flint; I felt played, going in what seemed like a wild goose chase - perhaps this was what the regular populace felt like on the new wizarding dating apps? For a solid week, I was worried that this endeavor and my carefully crafted interview with Wood would go spinning down the drain, until Flint replied with a nonchalant agreement to meet for drinks. 

The first thing I ask upon shaking his hand was why the change of mind. Flint, as tall, broad and disconcerting in person as he is on the Falcon’s official roster, merely shrugs. 

“Somebody twisted my arm,” he says - not pleased, but not too annoyed, either. I took it as a good sign. 

Flint’s notoriety on the pitch comes with added edge given his family’s political prominence. With a father and uncle sitting on Wizengamot seats, I ask if he ever felt pressure to follow in the family footsteps. In previous interviews he’s granted, Flint alluded to disdain for wizarding law, and the same attitude resonates as we settle at the bar and order our drinks. 

“I’m not brainy,” Flint states bluntly, “And I don’t find any joy in it. It was never in the cards.”

His family has been present in a fair handful of games, so one can conclude that the Flints, while more involved in the Ministry than most families, are still supportive. Flint shrugs when I propose this personal hypothesis. 

“As long as I I can pay my own bills, and stand on my own two feet,” Flint says, “They don’t care. And that’s the good thing about Quidditch, too. Your name [means nothing] unless you make it yourself.”

And carve out a path he has. The spotlight on Flint started before he had even set foot on the professional field. The situation in the tail-end of the ‘93 season was this: Falmouth was low on players as injuries ran rampant, and recruits were wary of joining such a foul-happy team. The Falcons then made an unprecedented move. Fresh out of Hogwarts, they had signed Flint directly to their first string, with the sole intention of molding him into an even more ambitious version of his Hogwarts self. It had made waves in the Quidditch scene, not only for the trust placed in a new face, but also in Flint’s readiness to subscribe to the Falmouth slogan. 

But, as many fans will attest to, it is more than the brutality that follows in Flint’s wake on the pitch. You need only to watch Flint in motion to realize that he does more than fly to destroy other team’s formations. It’s clear that what Flint says he lacks in political prowess, he has in spades for analyzing his opponents flight patterns. The bar we’re at is playing a game on the radio - Cannons versus Harpies - and while our fellow drinkers are betting on the Harpies to take home the victory, Flint informs me of the improvement in the Cannons defensive side. 

“It’s too easy to underestimate your opponent,” Flint says, drawing a quick diagram of what he deduces is the Cannon’s tactic for keeping the Harpies at bay, “That’s what the Harpies are up against. It’s all mental. Half the reason why my teammates can do what they do is because everyone’s [terrified] before we even get on the pitch.”

Flint’s talent, while oftentimes overshadowed by his violence on a broom, is something that other companies are aware of. Die-hard fans will remember that, at the time of Flint’s signing, Wimbourne had been buzzing (forgive me) for Flint as well. While some say it was due to Flint Sr’s personal ties to the Wasps, it seems to me as if Wimbourne recognized the tactical brain beneath the muscles. 

I ask Flint what made him choose one over the other. He is firm in the fact that his decision laid mainly on freedom of play. I can see it as Flint describes the draw of Falmouth above other teams for him; by now, three years into his stint, Flint would have been polished into an all-star Chaser. What Wood earns in wholesome publicity would have been pushed onto Flint as well. It is a hard-to-picture reality, what with the man sitting in front of me. 

Falmouth has allowed Flint full reign of who he wants to be and how he wants to play. While referees and opposing coaches alike express their discontent, Flint’s love for flying - and the way to fly - remains unhindered. 

“I love flying more than winning,” Flint says, grinning, “And I love winning. Especially over Puddlemere.”

It is a bluntly offered window for my questions surrounding his rivalry with Wood, and I am learning how Flint rolls. 

“I thought as much,” he says, when I ask about his reaction towards my initial request for an interview. For good reason - to a fair number of skeptics, the rivalry had been rumored to be in place solely to bring ticket sales up. After all, Wood and Flint rarely interact off the pitch, and while they do throw biting remarks on game day, refrain from commenting on one another unless truly provoked. 

But Flint confirms that it has been a long-standing rivalry, left over from their Hogwarts days. 

“We were captains at the same time, and our houses [don’t get along]. It was bound to spring up. It keeps me sharp, having that focus,” Flint continues; he seems pleased that people have taken it so seriously, and is more animated about the topic than I had imagined him to be. “Having that there, it makes me a better player.”

Does Flint dislike the immediate association to Wood? He shakes his head, unimpressed with my question. 

“I’m talking about it, aren’t I?” He questions back, and I concede that he has a point. 

I ask him if the game seven affair and the subsequent uproar had shaken him. He hesitates. It is the first time I can recall seeing Flint show any form of self-doubt since our first meeting, and perhaps even since the beginning of his career in the League. Even at his debut match, he had smiled at the cameras, confident in his abilities. Perhaps I am lucky enough to witness the man behind the persona; to gain a reminder that behind the aloofness is still a wizard not unlike the rest of us.

After a pause, in which we both drink our beers, Flint says, “First and foremost, I respect Wood. I think he’s a nutter when it comes to practice, but you can’t deny that it gets results.” 

I’m taken aback by the backhanded compliment; I ask him if he truly wants me to put these words into writing; Flint’s ensuing smirk challenges what I expect will be the onslaught of fan reaction. He welcomes the possibility of hate-mail with open arms, although I warned him of the recent spike in surprise bubotuber pus attacks.

Flint sobers once we return to discussing the game seven incident - it was undoubtedly a stressful time for him as well. Fans had called for his removal from the Falcons with furious gusto, as the League debated over the appropriate intensity of player-to-player targeting on the pitch. A six-game suspension was no joke, particularly when the European Cup was at stake - many more established careers have been derailed by similar circumstances. Flint is very aware of the truth: his career remained intact due to Wood’s forgiveness on the matter. 

“I was [screwed],” Flint puts it bluntly. I remind him that he owned up to it, how that may have swayed public opinion, but he shakes his head. “It got out of hand. I’d gone too far, and pulled someone down with me. I knew it, and everyone else knew it.” 

Was it the competition, the urge to do bigger things, or a more personal vendetta? Flint doesn’t have an answer for the motivation behind it; at least, not any he’s willing to tell me. 

“It got too intense,” Flint admits, but that is all he will say on the matter. I don’t press any further; both sides have clearly moved on from the matter and resumed regular game-play. While it’s a point of fascination for fans on both sides, it should be allowed to fade into the tapestry of Quidditch injuries and offenses in the history of the sport. 

As we discuss what’s next, it becomes clear to me that Flint is aware of the lifespan of a Quidditch career, even at such a young age. Perhaps it is because he knows how much damage he can inflict on other players. Perhaps, also, it is because he acutely understands his own injuries. It’s easy to forget that while playing the offensive, Flint must also take the brunt of impact.  

“All my teeth are fake now,” Flint says, showing me by tapping on his front right tooth. “Or regrown, if you want to be exact about it.”

In addition to losing his original set of teeth, Flint sports a long scar over his right eyebrow, another, more pink than faded white, down his forearm, and a still-fresh bruise on his cheekbone. None of these have been threatening to anything but his mother’s peace of mind in regards to finding a future spouse, he jokes.

“A big concern?” I dig, but Flint rolls his eyes and denies, as is his modus operandi. A handful of magazines and gossip columns have hinted at Flint being tied to a fellow player, but the spread of candidates have ranged so far and wide between that Flint gets to both play along and evade detailed questioning with ease.

In general, it’s taboo for us Quidditch journalist to ask what a player sees in their future after the stadium lights have gone down. But Flint is not one to shy away. 

“Coaching to some degree, probably,” Flint says, shrugging. “Run a little-league training camp. Worst comes to worst, I get pulled into the paperwork of it all. ” 

He doesn’t elaborate any more on the three potential pursuits he’s considered, although I desperately want to press for more (little league?) but it’s clear that for Flint, Quidditch will retain its special place, regardless of the scale of notoriety.  

The interview and night ends there as he informs me he needs to head home early, and I’m not one to argue. But as we separate outside of the bar, I am struck by the normality to Marcus Flint, and the security of his persona. A menace in the air, but I cannot deny that Flint’s blunt acceptance of who he is holds a particular magic that leaves me charmed. 

 


 

 

FLINT TRADED TO MONTROSE, NOMINATION FOR DANGEROUS DAI MEDAL

May 13, 1996 - Daily Prophet

Following a spectacular season, in which he racked up 30 fouls and leapt from his broom in order to maintain possession of the Quaffle (for which he is nominated), Falmouth Chaser Marcus Flint announced his trade to the Montrose Magpies. This announcement was preceded by months of Falmouth suffering financial troubles, as well as rumors of internal strife in leadership. When asked about his decision, Flint merely stated that it was “...time for a change in pace.” Fans from both sides expressed outrage - Montrose supporters have voiced their concern over Flint’s noteworthy illegal tactics, but leadership has refrained from commenting. Insider reports from Montrose state that the trade was made for 900 Galleons, a similar price to the mid-season trade of Kestrel's Beater Bernard “Burn” Quinn to the Wimbourne Wasps. 

 

 

PUDDLEMERE UNITED FAN FAVORITE FOR EUROPEAN CUP

August 20, 1996 - Seeker Weekly

Puddlemere United has been named the fan favorite for the European Cup, with seventy-percent of readers picking the recent League Cup champion. Fans will be excited to learn that the team has retained much of their last season lineup, with only reserve Seeker Lucile Romero filling in for Loren Chiang as he begins his three-month paternity leave.

Poll news was, however, met with considerable outrage from other League members, as Holyhead Harpies Captain Gwenog Jones called reporters who brought it up at her last press conference “lying b*tches”. Tornadoes Keeper Merwyn Finwick was caught telling fans to kiss her ass for the lack of trust in Tutshill. Montrose Chaser Marcus Flint has also expressed his disdain, calling “Bullshit” when approached for his opinion. 

It is no surprise that the League atmosphere is heating up, as tensions inside and outside the pitch rise. Only time will tell if Puddlemere manages to continue channeling their gusto into a victory.

 

 

FLINT & WOOD COME TO BLOWS AT EURO CUP STANDOFF, PUDDLEMERE ADVANCES

August 26, 1996 - Keeper Digest

In what has been another development following a string of exciting games to kick off the European Cup, Montrose’s Marcus Flint and Puddlemere’s Oliver Wood came to blows mid-game. What had started as a contested foul - Wood had been blagged by Montrose’s Marthy Hudson in the keeper’s circle, much to his annoyance - ended up in a full on brawl between the two teams. It’s no surprise that this was the case, as the rivalry between the two teams have risen with the combination of Flint and Wood to first-string rosters. However, spectators are still puzzled about how the altercation started. Some fans in the stand informed reporters of a heated argument between the captains of both teams, with Flint, Hudson, and Wood involved as well. Others stated that Flint had responded harshly to Hudson, rather than Wood, and that other players had been caught in the cross-blows. 

As both teams have stated their position - Puddlemere issued an official apology regarding the disruption, and Montrose stated just as much - no suspensions have been put in place and no indication of lasting bad blood between players has surfaced. 

Even with a black eye, Wood managed to keep Montrose’ offense at bay, only conceding four times. Reserve Seeker Lucile Romero has been a standout during this European Cup, catching the snitch in record time after the brawl had settled down (5.6 seconds). Puddlemere will advance to the semi-finals, to be held next weekend.

 

 

WOOD OVERHEARD MAKING COMMENTS, DISCONTENT WITH CAREER?

August 29, 1996 - Quidditch Quarterly

Your number one source of Quidditch gossip is back! Today, we’ve got the juicy details about what’s been going down on the greens at the European Cup. Our secret sources have kept us informed about all the drama, so get ready, dear readers!

The big thing on our radar is that Oliver Wood, everyone’s beloved Quidditch boyfriend, has been making some choice remarks. A little birdie told us that Wood was overheard stating “Enough is enough, I don’t want to do this anymore” [see attached clip]. Could he have been talking about his contract with Puddlemere? Rumor has it that the captain spot isn’t opening up any time soon, and Wood finds it suffocating. Uh-oh!

Of course, the European cup is grounds for hearts aflutter! Appleby’s Lina Tran was seen canoodling with a mysterious hottie - could it be France’s Remy Pichard? Montrose’s Marcus Flint was also seen exiting his lodging very late at night, and returning very early in the morning; fill in the blank yourself, readers!

However, Holyhead Captain Gwenog Jones was spotted in a heated argument with teammate Delilah Ramirez. Rumors about the Harpies have always been a thing - perhaps it’s trouble in paradise for Jones? 

That’s all for now! Remember to keep up to date with your favorite players with our weekly column! 

xoxo, Quidditch Queen

 

WOOD DISCREDITS RUMORS OF LEAVING PUDDLEMERE

August 30, 1996 - Keeper Digest

Puddlemere’s Oliver Wood issued a statement today refuting rumors that he was dissatisfied with his team. In his statement, Wood expressed that comments unrelated to his position were taken out of context, and reassured fans of his loyalty to his League team, as well as his respect for current Puddlemere captain Sven Stevenson. 

Montrose owner Alfred Watkins expressed disappointment at Wood’s statement, stating that “Montrose had been ready to offer a pretty price, but alas.”

 

 

PUDDLEMERE TAKES HOME EUROPEAN CUP

September 15, 1996 - Daily Prophet

Puddlemere United continued their successful streak with a final win over the Tutshill Tornados, 250 - 50. Reserve Seeker Lucile Romero caught the snitch to tremendous fanfare after a nerve-wrenching, break-neck race, and crowds were in celebration long into the night. Notable congratulations to Puddlemere came from Celestina Warbeck, Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimegour, and Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Puddlemere’s first-string Seeker, Loren Chiang, who is currently on paternity leave, also sent a congratulatory Howler to the team at the victory press conference. Congratulations, Puddlemere United!

 

 

FLINT & WOOD REVEAL YEARS-LONG RELATIONSHIP, TEAMS RELEASE STATEMENT

September 20, 1996 - Seeker Weekly

A joint statement from Montrose and Puddlemere earlier this morning has been sending shockwaves through the League fanbase. Just days after a Puddlemere victory, Montrose and Puddlemere announced that Flint and Wood have chosen to go public with their relationship following the increasing focus on their on-pitch interactions, as well as to remove any further upset over Wood’s comments, which had been incorrectly reported to indicate his discontent with Puddlemere. 

The statement laid out how team management had been aware of the relationship from the onset of their contracts, but were careful of destroying such a well-loved aspect of their game culture. While no exact date was stated, the public has assumed that Wood and Flint have been dating since early in their careers, potentially spanning two to three years. 

In the statement, Wood and Flint also indicated a detriment to their personal lives with the continued press surrounding their interactions, stating that “While we are thankful for the dedication to our performance, what began as a personal game to improve our skills has changed into a narrative we no longer wish to perpetuate. Rather, while we encourage a good team rivalry, we are noting the separation between pitch and personal life.”

Wood stated to one of our reporters that the concern had been on his mind for quite a few months. After some discussion, Montrose and Puddlemere management have agreed to honor their players’ wishes. 

Fans are torn; many have expressed surprise and well wishes, while others have been lamenting the waste in Galleons on tickets to see a match that would no longer be as exciting as they’d hoped for. 

However, Montrose and Puddlemere have guaranteed that the on-pitch face-offs will not decrease in intensity. Montrose head coach Gina Corsetti assured fans that “Flint and Wood are no less bloody insane than they were pre going public. They’ll still look like they want to murder each other in games, don’t worry.”

Quidditch Tribune journalist Essie Howard, who had sat down with Wood and Flint earlier this year for an in-depth interview, expressed her support to both parties. Wood in turn offered his gratitude to Howard, as her article had allowed him and Flint to reevaluate their situation.

Responses from fellow League members have been generally positive. Kestrel Beater Bernie Quinn was spotted passing a handful of Galleons to fellow teammate Saoirse Finnigan at a Kestrel press conference. Montrose Chaser Marthy Hudson discussed his disgruntlement. “I should’ve known, when Flint got all moody about Wood’s black eye [back in August].”

However, Montrose’s third Chaser, Mina Taylor, expressed her disbelief that Hudson was “such a dumb f*ck” for being unaware of such an open team secret.

 

 

QUIDDITCH’S BOY-NEXT-DOOR IS AVAILABLE NO MORE!

September 23, 1996 - Quidditch Quarterly

Following the biiiig (and heavily PR edited, you know it’s true) announcement this past week, fans all around have been mourning the loss of Oliver Wood from our boyfriend fantasies. Now, what was missing from that lovely statement was all the juicy details - us avid readers want to know it all! How did it start? Who made the first move? Who’s saucier under the covers?!

Quidditch Quarterly took it as our personal mission to find out. We managed to track down Wood post-practice, but the poor dear turned pink at the sight of us. After some needling, we managed to squeeze out a time-frame from Wood. Brace yourselves, readers - Wood and Flint have been involved since their final year in school! They truly threw us for the loop. Wood declined to comment any further, managing to escape from our reporters - which is all too bad. We hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.

When we managed to track down Flint (no easy feat) he responded to us only with a middle finger. Ah, well...

You know who we are ;)

xoxo, Quidditch Queen