𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

stubborn- oliver

"He asked me to make you promise that you wouldn't be angry," Harry explained, and you raised a brow at the boy, pulling your books against your chest as he led you towards the hospital wing.

"If he didn't want me to be angry, he should've listened to me when I told him not to go to practice," Your comment earned a slightly uncomfortable smile from Harry's lips as he looks at his feet while walking, not sure how to react. "Sorry," You sighed, moving your books into your bookbag as you neared the door. "Oliver tends to be stubborn when it comes to quidditch, which tends to end with me being worried, and that usually tends to end with me visiting said stubborn boy in the hospital wing with the injury of the week," Harry nodded at the explanation, stilling next to you at the door of the hospital wing.

"Madam Pomfrey said that even though he hit his head when he fell, he doesn't seem to have a concussion- she's not concerned as least, said he just needs someone to stay with him for a while as she monitors him," He smiled as you nodded. "I think he'll be alright," He offered optimistically.

"Thank you for coming to find me, Harry," You returned the boy's smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly before he leaves. You walked through the door carefully, waving at Madam Pomfrey when she spotted you walking in.

"Hello, dear," She noted, looking up from the research book in her hand and pointing towards the sickbay, Oliver being the only person in the entirety of it and you shook your head lightly as you saw him. "He's been asking for you," she told you with a knowing smile, allowing you to go in to see him without any objection, smiling still as she refocused her attention on the book in her hands.

Oliver noticed your presence instantly, turning his head to see you, a tired grin lacing onto his lips as you quickly made your way to his bed, stilling at his side with furrowed brows.

"My love," He noted softly, reaching a hand out towards you and smiling even more when your fingers entwine with his, your free hand lifting to his head where you gently moved your fingers through the short tendrils of brown.

"How's my injured boy feeling?" You asked with a soft smile, annoyance from earlier having slipped away as soon as you saw him. "Do you have any pain?"

"I'm alright," He began, and you allowed your eyes to travel over his body, not noticing any bandages or noticeable discomfort. "My head hurts a little, but Poppy said I could leave in time for dinner, she just wants to keep an eye on me for a few hours," He offered meekly, fiddling with the hem of the blanket draped over him. "I'm sorry for not listening to you," He explained, stopping his fingers as he looked at you. "You said the weather was too bad to practice and you were right, like you always are," You smiled at the statement, lightly scratching at his sculp.

"Don't think about that," you said as you removed your hand from his hair long enough to place your bag on the floor, smiling when his other hand reached for your shirt to keep you close. "I'm just happy that you're not hurt too badly," The boy offered you a warm smile as his hand tugged at your shirt to pull you closer towards him. "What can I do for my sweet boy?" You asked him, a smile of your own as you watched his eyes jumping over your features, he shook his head. "How about some water?" You suggested to which he nodded as if coming to the sudden realization that he was in fact thirsty.

You lifted the glass of water from the bedside table, holding it for him as he took a few slips, eyes locked on you as his fingers surrounded yours around the glass, hand falling to the bed when you moved to put the glass back.

"Thank you," He mumbled as you did so, hands somehow finding yours again as he gently scooted over on the bed, silently asking you to join him.

"You want me to hold you?" You mused; his behavior not strange at all as the boy always seemed to get a little more needy after he got himself injured. You nodded as he offered but a mere tug at your fingers as a reply. "Alright my love, I'll hold you in second, just need to check with Madam Pomfrey if it's okay for you to sleep yet."

Oliver wasn't happy with the comment at all, watching with a clear frown as you walked over towards the woman, talking softly among yourselves as she assured you that Oliver was just fine, though you were going to make the boy stay awake for just a little while more, just in case.

"Can you come here now?" He asked, tone laced with impatience as he even lifted his blanket for you. You smiled over at him, carefully kicking off your shoes and moving them under the bed before taking hold of his outstretched hand and sitting down beside him, pausing before laying down.

"Does anything else hurt, Oliver?" You question softly, wanting to be sure before just clinging onto him. He shook his head, grabbing your waist to guide you into his side, a small laugh escaping your mouth as he gently forced your head down onto his chest. He released a satisfied little sigh when your hands found his shirt, smoothing the surface slightly out of habit.

"Thank you for coming," He mumbled after a second and you twisted in his hold to look up at him, not missing the clear signs of sleep tugging at his features. "I know you had a whole lot to get done today."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here," You note simply, lifting a hand to his chin to steal his attention from the ceiling, his eyes closing for a second as the sudden comfort you provided clouded his already tired mind. "You've got to stay awake for a little while more, darling," You reminded him sweetly, his eyes finding yours in an instant, a sloppy smile on his lips as he stared at you.

"Hmm," He hummed in acknowledgement, hearing what you're saying yet not registering the words as he delicately pulled you closer. "I like it when you call me that."

"Darling?" You mocked lightly, watching a slight blush creep onto the boy's features, his sleepy state along with the adrenaline wearing off, leaving him an all but swooning mess as he holds onto the person he loves so dearly.

"I love you," He stated in the same flustered tone, and you rested your chin on his chest to look at him. "If this is how you treat me after getting hurt, I just might just get hurt more often."

"You couldn't possibly get hurt more often than you already do," You mused and traced small shapes over his shirt, mindlessly, as the sensation simply aided in lulling him into his slumber. "And you shouldn't dare attempt it either, you'd drive me mad with worry, Oliver Wood," The words emitted a groan from his lips, and you raised a brow.

"You worry about me?"

"Only constantly," You confessed, his eyes opening quickly. "Your self-preservation instinct is severely lacking, darling," You informed him, and he gave you a guilty smile, your hand leaving his chest as you moved to tuck the blanket back in around his side where it had escaped its place.

"I'll be more careful then," He declared. "I enjoy you taking care of me, but I don't want you to worry," He lifts a hand to your face, nimbly tracing a finger over your lips.

"That's all I ask," You replied, kissing the pad of his thumb when it stilled on your bottom lip. "Though in the meantime, I don't mind taking care of my sweet and injured darling," He laughed softly, shaking his head as he pulled you back to his chest, arms wrapping around you even tighter than before and you melted into the feeling completely.