“Oliver sent me the address to his new flat,” I said confidently, helping myself to an apple out of the fridge.

“What area of London is it in?”

“The shady area with all of the rogue blokes with knives,” I said casually and smiled with the puppy dog eyes.

“What has you in such a good mood?”
“The weather is nice today.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“At least I know you got that trait from me.” He smiled again, this time a little more maliciously.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Alicia said, groaning at Oliver’s gesture. “I just can’t get the image of them at each other’s throats out of my head. Fight or something, this is getting weird.”

“Perry, laps,” Oliver said and I splashed him.

“How about that toilet situation?”

I groaned. “Not on my birthday.”

“That excuse won’t work tomorrow.”

“I was hoping you would conveniently forget about it tomorrow.” I smiled wide.

Oliver let out a sigh. “Don’t hate poor Bridget.”
“And why not?”
“Because she’s dumber than a box of Bludgers and likes my pretty face.” He smiled.
“I’m not sure why, you’re quite the jerk, Oliver Wood.”

Ah, but I wouldn’t be walking. I could Apparate now and by George, I was going to. By Fred as well.

At the moment a cheesy soap opera was on with overacting and plots that went for days. I smiled, took a bite of my breakfast, and concentrated on who slept with whom and why someone had a baby without sleeping with anyone.

Okay, she slept with her daughter’s fiancé. He tried to cover it up by pretending he had a baby pre-engagement—who was that lady? I had no idea. It was too complicated to hold my attention.

"Jane, what do you think about this one?”

I stared at a lacy dress with strange trim and a weird neckline. “It’s horrible.”

“Okay. Good. Just making sure you can be trusted with an opinion.”

“How’s Lee?” Alicia said, practically drooling on the table to figure it out. “He hasn’t sent me a letter since you boys left. Has be found a new woman?”

“He’s bleeding annoying, that’s what he is,” Fred replied. “Always whining—why can’t we go back? Leesh is gunna murder me! Blah blah blah, I don’t care. He’s a complainer, that Lee. Get him out of that habit, will you?”

“Tell me about what your plans are for after graduation!”
“How many times have you caught the Snitch?”
“How does Liam Denters compare to Oliver Wood?”
“Have you donated to the cause?”

“Ah, I see.” Oliver looked nervous. I hadn’t seen him nervous in ages. There were girls eyeing him from the table over but he didn’t notice. I liked that, but I’d never tell. “They’re too good together. We have to fix this.”

He said we.

"Yes, sorry, Amanda, Jane does have me on a rather short leash. I just can’t do anything about it.”

“Well.” She looked put out, smoothing the mix into the crust. “When you can, call me, okay? She goes through them like the plague.”

"You’ll just have to live with that being with Jane. You’ll also have to deal with other people hitting on her and George having a picture of her legs in his room. That Fred took.”

“Think of it as improv,” Alicia said cheerfully. “We can all play characters! I’ll be mysterious, yet light and airy since no one knows I really hold lots of secrets in my full, luxurious head of shiny hair.”

“Can I cut in?”

His brown eyes made me freeze, unaware of the muffin dropping with a soft thud onto the tile floor.

“Gunna eat that?” Fred asked, grabbing the muffin off the ground and taking a bite.

Angelina nudged him. “You’re gross.” He bit her in response.

“She hits on Roger?” Fred said, his nose wrinkling. “I’m going to come over and set her straight. Gryffindors are the only ones worth fancying. Obviously.”

“You’re not going near her,” Angelina said, plopping down on Fred’s lap. “She might club you over the head and drag you back to her hut.”

"I’d leave Lee for Wood.” She snorted. “I’m only joking.” Pause. “Or am I?” Pause. “Of course I’m joking.” Pause. “You’ll never know.”
 
 

“What are you fears then?” I said, my body weak with vulnerability.

“Mine?” he said. “I’m Oliver Wood. I’m not allowed to have fears.”

“So what?” Fred said impatiently. “What are you two, anyway? Obsessive snoggers? Perpetual saliva-exchangers? Something else cleverly thought up be me that I can’t think of?”

“I hope Oliver hears about this,” I teased.

“I’ll even tell him we were shamelessly flirting,” he said, kicking off from the benches and soaring over the pitch.

We still keep a bottle of red on top of the fridge. Just in case we need it.