𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗞
fandom - harry potter
reader - girl
age - undecided
requested - nope
•••
YOU CAME TO THE SUDDEN REALIZATION THAT YOU HAD not wished your boyfriend, oliver, good luck before his quidditch game. your eyes widened, and you sat up in your seat. there were ten minutes left in class, then a free block for everyone to watch the game. you raised your hand to ask to go to the washroom, but professor flitwick waved your hand off. feeling defeated, you slouched down in your desk. if you didn't make it to wish him luck, you were sure something would go wrong. if something went wrong, oliver would spend the rest of the day complaining to you about how it wasn't fair and that the gryffindor team should have won.
when the bell finally rang, you sprung out of your desk and dashed into the halls. students were pouring out of their classes, and you barely refrained from shoving past everyone. there was limited time for you to make it down to the lockers. your paper work was coming dangerously close to falling out of your binder as you raced past everyone. some shoved you out of the way, others called after you in confusion and anger.
as if things couldn't get worse, filch noticed you running in the halls, yelling as he chased after you. with a yelp, you ducked into an empty potions classrooom. shortly after filch went running by, doing some sort of high-knee exercise. you almost laughed at his weirdness, but kept quiet. just as you thought things were getting better, an unamused cough came from behind you. slowly turning around, you were met with professor snape looking annoyed at your presence. giggling nervously, you began to stutter out a compliment.
"p-professor snape... l-lovely to see you- i was just-"
"-heading to the game, i presume," he finished for you, giving you that nasty glare he have all the half-bloods (and other houses, really.)
"right- of course... i'll be going now-" you slowly backed up and he gave you a nod, turning dramatically on his heel, making his rope (some may say, dramatic cape) fly around. that was all it took for you to run away, shivering.
somehow you made it to the second floor, but bumped into george weasley, sending him into hermione, who was heading down to the game. they stumbled to right themselves, blush on both of their faces. you apologized, sliding down the banister towards the main floor, (of course making sure no professors were around) and dumped all your work in your locker.
you had a long sprint towards the quittach pitch, down several crowded halls, but just as you arrived at the lockers the door swung open and you crashed straight into someone. looking up, you were greeted by a confused, and mildly amused oliver. he was in uniform and was just heading out. you made it just in time! you smiled weakly, very much out of breath, wrapping your arms around him.
"𝐡-𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐠-𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲-𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞."
•••
[unedited]
you are welcome kay
