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Emptiness was all that was left, a black hole swallowing nothingness. Light was lost within the remains of the empty maroon shell, darkness taking over the dirt filled corners. It was all gone, nothing remained but the faint smell of stale sweat and mud that had lingered on his quidditch robes that once hung on the silver hook within the locker. The clasp that held his broom stick now stood empty, fastened to the wall yet holding only empty air. And the shelf where he placed his keeper gloves was bare, waiting eagerly for the next person to come alone and claim the locker as their own.

Sighing, Oliver closed the locker, hearing the clasp fall into place with a metallic click for the last time. He kept his hand upon the door, not wanting it all to be over. He had reached the end. His seventh year was now over and it was time to move on.

He gazed at his name, emblazoned in the holder on his locker door. It had been a happy moment when he had first walked into the locker room after joining the team and seen his name. He remembered the elation that had filled him knowing that he was one step closer to fulfilling his ultimate goal. It had always been his dream, from the moment he had walked through the doors of Hogwarts to be part of the Quidditch team, to be able to represent his house. He loved the sport and he could think of nothing greater than helping his team and his house to victory.

The locker room was full of so many memories. This was where every training session and every match began and ended. It was in this room that they discussed the thrilling victories and the near misses and also the compete thrashings. It was where he listened to pep talks form his captains and then gave pep talks of his own. It was where the team met in all sorts of weather for endless training, where everyone vented their frustrations but also their excitement and all shared in the thrilling sensation of simply flying.

Quidditch had been his life at Hogwarts. He lived it, he breathed it, he dreamt it. So many hours he had spent plotting and planning, only to have victory slip through his fingers. He didn't blame Potter, not really, but he couldn't deny that while and amazing flying, his talent for attracting trouble had lost him a number of matches.

But it was also Potter that helped him achieve his ultimate dream, to win the Quidditch Cup. Nothing quite compared to the feeling of finally having the golden cup placed into his eager hands and lifting it above his head as his house mates cheered from the stands. It had been a moment he had dreamt about so many times, but when the situation finally arrived, the reality was so much better than any dream he could ever conjure.

It had been a tough battle, and he could still feel the bruises from where the bludges had hit him in the stomach. They hadn't made it easy for themselves in the final match, needing to be up by sixty points before Potter caught the snitch. Slytherin in a way had made it easier for them, their total disregard for the rules and blatant cheating making it easier to get ahead due to the penalties that were awarded. But still, it all came down to his team keeping the lead, him blocking the goals and Potter catching that snitch.

Oliver could remember how his heart had been thumping against his chest the entire time with adrenaline and shear anticipation of a victory that he had waited so long for. The game seemed to be endless, but as the crowd erupted and the banners of red and gold waved through the air, he knew that Potter had found the snitch and in so doing, had achieved victory for Gryffindor.

The day was still so clear in his mind, the feel of the smooth metal in his hands, the weight of the cup, the yelling and chanting of the crowd, not to mention the party afterwards. He had done it, left his legacy, and now it was time to let someone else leave their mark.

Oliver reached up and removed his name from the door. The looker would belong to the new keeper now, and someone else would have the badge with the large C pinned upon their robes. Taking one last breath of the cool air that hung within the locker room, Oliver picked up his bag and broom and left the Gryffindor locker room for the last time.

He walked sombrely out onto the pitch and gazed around at the stands, just imagining them full of his school mates. He closed his eyes, the warm sunlight hitting his face and he cast his mind to the future, to his new quiddtich dream. First he was off to Puddlemere United, and then hopefully England and World Cup victory. In his mind he could imagine the even larger stadium, the enthusiastic crowd and fans screaming his name. His time at Hogwarts was over, but it was also the start of a new adventure, one with infinite possibilities and even many more opportunities for quidditch glory.

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