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On the way to the Great Hall, I see Oliver from afar and my heart skips a beat. It's just dancing, my mind is snapping and I'm probably staring at it insanely, but I can't help it. How can a person be so beautiful? If only he were at least beautiful! But he is intelligent and he has an incredible fighting spirit. Everyone gets annoyed with his pre-game motivational speeches except me. He tries so hard, he fights for his dreams. He's funny and he knows exactly how he's with me have to deal with, because he's the only one besides the twins who really gives me counterattacks. That's also something that fascinates me about him. I'm sure that I get on his nerves a lot, but he still talks to me again and again and from time to time forbids my loose mouth. All in all, it's exactly what I want and need and will probably never have. But one can still dream.
"That the guy just doesn't see it," Harry murmurs as he walks past me. Of course, little Harry Potter sees more than everyone else again. It is to despair. "Well he's right..." Fred laughs and pats me on the shoulder. I shake my head and force myself to think of something gross. Snape for example. That works quite well when I see him at the front of the teacher's desk. "You're always fighting so doggedly for everything," George now remarks, puzzled. "Yes, if there's any chance of success," I growl. He just shakes his head with a grin and of course the two of them arrange it for me to sit next to Oliver at the Gryffindor table. "And, how was the holidays,,Y/L/N? You are looking good. Were you on vacation instead of training?" he asks me now, grinning. "Don't think I wasted a precious brain cell on Quidditch during my well-deserved vacation - when I was on the French Riviera," I reply dryly. "I don't need to ask what you did. You developed new strategies, not a day your broom lay untouched in your room and you worked doggedly on new strategies." "And apparently you didn't lose your big mouth on vacation," he grumbles with a grin. "But you're right. And I thought to myself that we..." And then he doesn't stop talking. With anyone else I would have been totally annoyed, but Oliver is explaining his new ideas to me and I'm blown away. I soak up every single word and hang spellbound on his pretty lips. And his plans aren't even bad, but they never really are. It's mostly just the implementation that's lacking. I keep nodding in dismay until he asks: "Do you have any suggestions for improvement?" I'm kind of startled out of my reverie. "Well, not necessarily that. But it depends on the team. If you can convince them that this is all going to work, then they'll try hard enough... and maybe one day it won't fail." "Everything has to go smoothly this year!" says Oliver resolutely. "I want the trophy before I go." I smile at him. "Your greatest dream." "It's about time," he mumbles to himself, suddenly looking a little unsure. As if he didn't quite believe that we could make it this year.
I nudge him with my shoulder. "Now don't look like that. It will definitely work this year. I'll take care of that." "If you put your hands on this... a 50/50 chance that it's either a complete flop or everyone's so scared of you that they give 101 percent." Oliver mumbles with a grin and I shove my shoulder at him again. "That's not funny!" I laugh. "I'll do my best to win the trophy this year, I promise. I give everything! And everyone else will too, whether they want to or not." "You're so annoying," laughs Wood. "I think you can actually do that." "I'll take that as a compliment," I murmur, grinning, and he nods. "Yes, today it's one." "Thank you!" I call out in mock indignation and he raises his hands in a peace offering. "Spare me!" I give him a withering look, but I have to smile. He just has no idea that I have a crush on him. And all I can get is this buddy relationship and if it doesn't get any more I'll have to settle for that.
