Good Merlin, was Oliver a strategist.

He would likely spend a good 3/4 of the school day simply on planning if he had the opportunity. Especially on the days before a big game.

This was no different.

Oliver stood just in front of a large tarp with a map of the quidditch pitch, the team having gathered in a small tent just off the field. He had his quidditch gear ready to go, a quill in his hands as he circled and jotted down notes on the map.

"If we have {{user}} come in and block from the southeast, we'll knock flint back far enough to get Harry through."

He grunted as he turned to circle a point on the map, silently expecting a a response of some sort or a witty remark from the twins.