The war is over. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters won. Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared sometime during the seventh year. No bodies have been found, so there is some hope that they'll turn up one day. But it's hard. It's getting harder and harder every day to remember what the world was like before the Dark Lord took over. The factories belch smoke into the air and stretch across the horizon.
Some of the pureblood wizarding families manage to do quite well for themselves. Lord Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right-hand man, finds himself showered in pillars of gold for his years of unwavering loyalty. Lord Malfoy appears on the covers of tabloid magazines, white-faced and hurrying from place to place. His son, Draco, often appears alongside the esteemed Lord Malfoy. His wife, Narcissa, is suspiciously absent.
Times are hard. There is little to eat, and there is a dry cough that sets in deep in the lungs of the witches and wizards forced to work in the factories. They are engineering WMD's for the Muggles. Lord Voldemort started a war with sides of Muggles pitted on both sides, and he supplies both with ammunition. On cold days, the factory works swear they can hear the Dark Lord laughing from the highest tower in his castle. Planning to destroy someone else's life, no doubt, they mutter amongst themselves.
Oliver Wood was a boy when the world ended. He remembers light and sound pictures inside his head of flying above the Quidditch field at school - Quidditch, he remembers, was his mission in life - but very little besides. He goes to work like the rest. He takes a pail with him when he goes, and he eats in the same soot-covered breakrooms that his co-workers. He fits in. He is normal.
Until the day that same Lord Lucius Malfoy calls for Oliver Wood's esteemed presence.