Harry Potter Oneshots (x Readers)

(Oliver x Reader) First Name Basis

for/requested by aslrmx
(same diff, am i right? yo i am so sorry this is a little late but 💖💞)

Wood was that one guy in class who was just kind of there. We only usually talked about school, and even when we bumped into each other outside of class, the most small talk would be about when something was due or what was due when.

I never expected him to go off on a tangent when we conversed.

"...and Potions is due tomorrow, but erm do you want to hang out sometime?"

I stared blankly at him for a second trying to process what he'd just asked me. He was a school friend — sure — but a friend friend? I usually let the other person decide that.

"Ok then. What about Saturday?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Let's say twelve. We can meet at the entrance then have lunch together. I'm fact, we can have lunch now too," he grinned.

"Aight then," I half-smiled then followed him to the Great Hall.

This guy, though incredibly handsome, has no clue of my personality and I of his, and he asked me to lunch and another lunch after that. It's not that he's weird, but the action certainly is. We've been acquainted for years, but only now will I have to have a proper conversation with him.

This was gonna be awkward.

We sat down in front of each other, his friends nearby. The first few minutes were polite smiles and picking out our food. The next consisted of asking about each other's food and then silence. We looked at each other from time to time, but neither of us knew what to say.

Fun.

It was just like this until the bell rang, but even then, we had class together; we sat next to each other too. This was why I never asked to "hang out sometime" or eat together. There is no way for us to transition anywhere out of school friends to anything else unless we had any common interests which I doubt we had.

Transfiguration was not a very nice period for me. I couldn't focus on what we were supposed to do and almost aimed my wand at the wrong thing and as what Professor McGonagall said, "You could've poked someone's eye out!"

Wood didn't seem to be doing well either. My aim wasn't the best at the moment, but his was always a partial transfiguration.

"Wood, check your pronunciation," I whispered.

He nodded and tried again. It was almost a full transfiguration.

"Thanks. Call me Oliver," he whispered back.

It might have just been me, but I think he made it more awkward. Still, I complied. I was going out with him on Saturday. Imagine if I had to use his last name the whole time we were there.

"Call me Y/n then."

—

Saturday came more quickly than I hoped it would. Would? Wood. Oliver.

DAMN IT.

I dressed up nicely but not enough to make it look like I was going on a date. Maybe, he meant there would be other people, and if others were there, that would mean I wouldn't really have to say anything and instead, listen to others having a conversation.

That lifted my spirits a bit, and I got to the entrance exactly on time. It looked like W- Oliver was a little early, but no one else was there. I wasn't sure how this would end.

"Where to, then?" I smiled.

"Three Broomsticks?"

I shrugged, "Sure. What are you getting? My treat."

"What? No, my treat. What are you getting?"

"Mm definitely not Butterbeer."

"Why not?"

"That shit's way too sweet."

We ended up arguing all the way until we reached The Three Broomsticks, and believe it or not, he did not change my mind on the short period getting there.

"What'll you get, then?" he asked.

"Gillywater."

"No, you cannot be serious. A when was the last time you had Butterbeer, then?"

"Third year."

"Godric, you are boring," he laughed.

I only rolled my eyes.

"Nah you're just ignorant. I'm getting a table, and remember, you said it's your treat. I'm expecting Gillywater."

I was able to grab a table as soon as I got in which was pretty lucky considering it was The Three Broomsticks. I spotted some schoolmates nearby, but Merlin knows I wouldn't wave to any regardless of whether we made eye contact or not.

Oliver returned with three drinks in hand: two Butterbeers and one Gillywater. I gave him a shit-eating smile.

"Hello," I greeted.

"Hi," he returned with a mischievous grin of his own.

"I'll be taking my Gillywater then."

"No, you will after you take a sip of the Butterbeer I got."

"And if I don't like it?"

"I'll drink it."

I smirked, "You're a hundred percent sure you will?"

He nodded. I took the Butterbeer maintaining eye contact, took a sip, and because I still didn't like it, spit it back in. I then moved it to him.

"Drink it."

He pushed it away, "Arsehole."

My head leans closer, "Oliver."

"How's that an insult?" he laughed.

"It's enough of one," I said cheekily.

Heads closer, foreheads touch, then lips connect.

author: it's called picking someone up at the bar for anyone who might say that they don't know each other well.