I Actually Love You More Than Quidditch... (Oliver Wood Love Story)

Quidditch Lessons Turned Getting a Date

At four o'clock, after all classes had finished, and everyone was inside doing whatever they chose to, Harry and I were sat by the fireplace in the Common Room, waiting for Oliver to show up.

"Harry," he said, and we looked up to realise he was leaning in through the portrait hole.

We both got up, and started towards him.

"Are you coming too?" he asked, looking impressed.

"Yeah, why?" I laughed.

"He wants to know if it's a date," Fred supplied.

"Because both of you would really like that," George added, as one popped up over each of my shoulders.

I sighed, rolling my eyes at them, before batting them away.

"Shall we?" I asked Oliver and Harry, and they nodded, Harry grinning and Oliver smirking.

I giggled to myself, before walking behind the two of them as they carried the box of Quidditch things down to the pitch Oliver had booked... I had offered to help, of course, but neither of them would let me so.... yeah...

Five minutes later, we were walking out onto the empty Quidditch pitch. I absently noted that the boys had stopped, putting the box down, but I carried on walking.

I ventured closer and closer to the centre of the pitch, taking in how beautiful it looked when it was empty and the sun was shining, although the air was cold.

I got to the the centre circle, and turned around, taking in the whole pitch- the marking on the grass, the hoops, the stands, the towers- everything.

It was only when Harry started calling my name that I turned back to see him and Oliver staring over at me.

I ran over to them; "Sorry," I panted, "Got caught up in it all- I've never been on it while it's empty."

"Beautiful isn't it," Oliver said, looking fondly at the pitch as if it were his own child.

"It really is something," I admitted, but then snapped back; "Anyway, what's up?"

"Wood's going to teach me about the balls in Quidditch and, because you don't know a lot about it, I thought you could listen in, so that you want to come to the matches more," Harry explained.

HE WAS SO CUTE!!!! 

"Okay, sport," I agreed, sitting down on the ground cross-legged, awaiting my lesson.

All I got was stares from two people.

"What? I like sitting down when I'm being taught... otherwise it doesn't feel right..."

Harry grinned, sitting down next to me, and Oliver just shook his head in disbelief, a smile gracing his features as he too, sat down.

"Okay so this is the Quaffle," he said, throwing a red ball to Harry, who caught it and threw it back.

Oliver then threw it to me and it landed in my lap, no help needed.

"Why has it got dents in it?" Harry asked.

"Ooh ooh! I know this... I think... it's logical anyway..." I said, my hand having shot up, but fallen back to my side as I trailed off.

"Go on, Ava," Oliver said, professionally, smirking at me.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach when he said that, but I ignored them.

"I would imagine, it's so you can get a better handle on the ball-"

"Quaffle," Oliver interrupted.

"Fine Quaffle- Jeez! So you can hold it better and still hold onto your broom..."