"Honestly, Ron! Do you have to stuff your face so?" Hermione complains, snatching up her books and storming out of the dining hall.
"What the bloody hell'd I do?" Ron questions, food coming out of his mouth. Oliver and I giggle before he continues with his story.
"As I was saying, I have that game coming up but I'm absolutely petrified that I'll lose my grip on that broom like last time," he says, sighing as he hides his face in his hands.
"Oh, come on, Oliver. Nothing bad will happen!" I tell him, putting my hand on his forearm comfortingly. He looks at me and smiles. "What?"
"Nothing, I'm just lucky to have you," he replies.
"I'm glad you're my friend too".
- - -Two hours later- - - "Isn't he great?" I squeal, pointing out Dean to Oliver.
"He's not that good," he answers, shrugging off Dean's spotless execution of a spell.
"As if you could do any better," I counter. Oliver's face turns to one of confidence as he clears his throat.
"Ahem, could I have all your attention please?!" He announces, standing on his chair. I giggle as I watch him. "Today, ladies, gents, and all in-between, I shall be performing a floating cantation". In moments, Oliver is on the floor, groaning in pain as we all laugh at him. "I don't know what I said wrong," he says as I help him up.
"I don't think you even said a spell, Oliver," I tease.
"I have another fearless performance I'd like to act on," he whispers when o help him dust his robes off.
"And that is?.."
"Will you go to the annual dance with me, Y/N?" My heart stops and I back away slightly.
"Oh, Oliver. I'm so sorry. I'm already going with Dean. I'm sorry-"
"No worries. Sorry I asked," he stutters, turning with a broke expression and walking away.
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