Seven Minutes in Heaven (with the Harry Potter Boys)

Oliver Wood

Your fingers brushed against various objects in the bag, each one seeming to tell its own story. Finally, you wrapped your hand around a small, smooth item and pulled it out, holding it up to the light. It was a polished, miniature Quaffle, no bigger than a walnut. You immediately knew to whom it belonged: Oliver Wood.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, was known for his intense focus on the game and his unyielding determination to win. You had seen him on the pitch countless times, always pushing his team to be their best. He was passionate, dedicated, and undeniably very handsome. As you looked up, you saw him standing across the room, his eyes locking onto yours as he realized it was his object you had picked.

A mixture of excitement and nervousness surged through you as Oliver walked over, his usual confident demeanor softened by a friendly smile. "Looks like we're paired up," he said, his Scottish accent adding a charming lilt to his words. You nodded, trying to steady your breathing as you both made your way to the closet designated for the game.

The small space was dimly lit, adding a sense of intimacy as you both stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind you, and you were suddenly very aware of how close you were to Oliver. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"So," he began, his voice low and smooth, "seven minutes, huh? Any ideas on how we should spend it?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit awkward. "I guess we could talk? Get to know each other better."

He nodded, his gaze intense but not intimidating. "Sounds good to me. What do you want to know?"

You took a deep breath, trying to think of something interesting to ask. "Well, I know you're passionate about Quidditch. What's your favorite memory from playing on the Gryffindor team?"

A smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes. "That's a tough one. There are so many great memories. But I think my favorite would be the time we won the House Cup my third year. It was a close match, and the adrenaline was insane. I remember the whole team celebrating together afterward, just feeling this incredible sense of achievement."

You could see the passion in his eyes as he spoke, and it was contagious. "That sounds amazing. I can tell how much Quidditch means to you."

He nodded, his expression softening. "It does. It's more than just a game to me; it's a way of life. But enough about me. What about you? What are you passionate about?"

You hesitated, then decided to open up. "I'm really into organizing events and helping out with community projects. I love seeing everything come together and knowing that I've made a difference."

Oliver's eyes lit up with interest. "That's impressive. It takes a lot of dedication and hard work, just like Quidditch. I bet you're really good at it."

You blushed at the compliment. "I like to think so. I just want to make a positive impact, you know?"

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I admire that. It's important to have something you're passionate about. It gives life purpose."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the small space making the conversation feel even more intimate. Oliver shifted slightly, and you noticed the way his eyes flicked to your lips for a brief second before returning to your eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, his voice softer now.

"Sure," you replied, your heart beating faster.

"Would you want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me sometime? I mean, if you're interested."

A smile spread across your face, and you nodded. "I'd love that."

Oliver's smile widened, and he took a small step closer to you. "There's something else I've been wanting to do," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Before you could respond, he gently cupped your face with his hand and leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. The sensation sent a warm shiver down your spine, and you instinctively moved closer, deepening the kiss. It was a moment of pure connection, as if the world outside the closet had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared emotion.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little harder, and Oliver's eyes were bright with emotion. "I've been wanting to do that for a while," he admitted, his voice still a whisper.

You smiled, feeling a rush of happiness. "Me too," you confessed.

The timer outside the closet rang, signaling the end of your seven minutes. As you both stepped out, the other students greeted you with curious and knowing looks, but you didn't care. Oliver walked you back to the main area, a new sense of excitement and anticipation bubbling within you. This night had turned out to be anything but ordinary.