Drawing Places (Oliver Wood x reader)

Viginti et Unius

It was the beginning of a mild temperature August when the fireplace lit up in shocking green flames. My dad jumped, but remembered that the floo network existed in time for a tall brunet to step out into our living room, followed by his trunk and broomstick. Oliver dusted off his shoulder and looked around.
It was my dad who spoke first, looking up from the telly to take in Oliver's appearance. He raised his eyebrows. "So, a keeper's like a goalie, right?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, alright." He looked back at the movie that was playing.

I stood up, making my way to Oliver and wrapped my arms around him. I guess I hadn't realised how much I missed him, until he was actually standing in the room. He dropped his broom, to pull me into his chest.
"Hi there," I mumbled, soaking up the smell of broom wax on his shirt. He laughed, rubbing a hand against my back.
I could assume that my dad was watching, so I pulled away.
"Dad, this is Oliver." I pointed up at the taller boy who slung his arm over my shoulder. "Oliver, this is my dad."

Getting formalities out if the way, my dad told Oliver about how he used to play football, and how it was nothing like how I had described Quidditch. Dad was much too scared of the thought of being off the ground AND trying to play a sport. Oliver, thankfully, didn't tell him about any of the falls he had taken.

"Mum's not home," I explained, as I dragged Oliver's trunk up the stairs. "Ministry stuff. Sirius Black, probably."
Wood nodded, grabbing the trunk from me. "I can carry my own stuff, love."
Ignoring the sudden leap that my heart took, I showed him to my dad's office. "There's a sofa bed in here. Mum said you can't stay in my room."
"Fair enough," he said with a shrug.

"So, your dad's a muggle, right?" Oliver asked, after he had settled a bit, and found his way into my very cluttered room. When I nodded, he asked how he found out about my mum.
"I think she broke the law in telling him actually. Which is funny, considering she works in the ministry." I sat down on my bed, and looked up at him. "They hadn't been dating for all that long, when she brought him round to meet her parents. And obviously, my grandparents are very flamboyant people, so it didn't take long to notice some... abnormalities. And then afterwards they went back to his flat, and he just asked her to explain. Which she did."

Admittedly, it wasn't a very interesting story. Oliver seemed to think it was cool, though. Maybe he was just distracted by the box filled with tapes that he had just found. I pushed myself forward a little to lean into him, and with a laugh said, "I can guarantee you've listened to those before." 
"Not all of them," he huffed, flipping one over in his hands. "1989; what's on it?" 
I shrugged, not able to remember. It had been almost three years since I last listened to it. "Put it on, if you want."

I had to teach him how to use the stereo, but after he'd figured it out, I was easy for him to put in tapes or CDs. I pulled him onto my bed, laughing, and jumping as Love Shack by The B-42's played. 
"What the hell is this?" he laughed, pausing to listen to the lyrics. 
"Don't think, just enjoy it!" I grabbed his arm to bring him closer and began to sing along. I almost missed the look of complete adoration on his face, but looked up just in time to meet his brown eyes for a moment. He had that kinda glow about him - one you could kinda associate with... well at least interest in a person. I didn't call him out on it though. 

The song ended and was quickly followed up by ABBA. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Oliver had heard this song before, and at least knew the chorus. Admittedly, it wasn't hard to forget the words to Take A Chance On Me. 

After a few more songs, Oliver pressed pause on the stereo.
"Ok, you've delayed enough, no show he the bloody broom," Oliver huffed, hands on his hips and the pleasant glow leaving the eyes. 
"But I liked that song." I pouted, not that that changed his stance. He wanted to see my new broom.