Today's line: "I'm really not too sure about these Muggle buses. A regular one is all right, but this double-decker thing is very suspicious. I just don't trust it to squeeze through the gaps without magic."
He regrets allowing the toadying when Aidan insists that the two of them join Isabel in her shopping mission through Muggle London ridiculously early the following day.
"But Oliver," Isabel pleaded, tugging on his arm to try and haul him out of bed while Aidan – disappointingly dressed –laughed from the end of the bed, "if we don't go now someone else will buy the shoes before I can get there."
Recognising the imminent crisis, Oliver had forced himself to get up, and now here he is, listening to Isabel complain about Aidan's chosen method of transport.
"I'm really not too sure about these Muggle buses," she's saying. Aidan just grins at Oliver and continues to peer in apparent fascination over the railing beside him. "A regular one is all right, but this double-decker thing is very suspicious. I just don't trust it to squeeze through the gaps without magic."
Oliver rolls his eyes. "Generally they make the gaps big enough so that the buses can get through without magic," he tries to explain. "Muggle bus drivers have to pass tests and things to get the job to make sure they can drive the bus through the gaps, not like Wizarding drivers who get it based soley on enthusiasm."
He's just guessing, there, but if Ernie, the elderly Knight Bus driver, has ever passed a driving test in his life then Oliver will eat something large and disgusting-looking.
"I still don't like it," Isabel voices.
"Noted," Aidan puts in, still grinning. "And now that you know I'm a sucker for old Muggle romantic traditions, you won't suggest I choose the method of transport again."
His frizzy-haired flatmate relaxes slightly into a chuckle. "Certainly not," she says stubbornly anyway.
They leave her, much to Oliver's relief, at the shoe-shop and venture into the Leaky Cauldron down the road; how Isabel's favourite boutique shoe-shop managed to be around the corner from Wizarding London boggles Oliver's mind slightly, but he wasn't about to complain when Aidan turned to him on the way through the pub and said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies?"
So he's standing in the middle of the comfortable mahogany-brown shop, comparing broom-handle polish hand in hand with Aidan, when a familiar chocolatey voice sidles into his ear.
"Oliver Wood," it says, smooth and rich and warm. "I see congratulations are in order."
Oliver drops the handle polish jar in his right hand and Aidan's fingers in his left and turns to face Charlie Weasley, feeling the blood rush pathetically to his face and cursing his lack of dignity. "Ch-Charlie," he stutters nervously. "Good to see you!"
Charlie Weasley smiles at him, and it's the same smile – the one that always makes Oliver feel like he's the only person in the world who receives it. After a moment of basking in it, he remembers Aidan and then feels terrifically guilty for forgetting him. "This is my boyfriend Aidan," he introduces.
"Aidan Lynch," Charlie finishes for him, sticking out one broad, masculine hand to completely swallow Aidan's in a handshake. "I saw you in the '94 World Cup, very nice."
Aidan laughs weakly, clearly shaken by the dynamic between Oliver and Charlie. Oliver curses the way he always is around Charlie, after all this time, even when he hasn't seen his former Captain in years, even when he's grown up now and shouldn't still let someone have so much power over him. "That was not one of my best games," he says easily nonetheless.
Charlie chuckles, the sound low and sultry like Oliver remembers and it still makes him weak in the knees. "You were facing a very confident, very determined Victor Krum," he consoles. "I think you performed admirably."
For a moment they stand there; Oliver has a million questions he'd like to ask but not the words to ask them in or the courage to open his mouth and let them out. Then Charlie sighs. "Well," he says briskly. "I've got to get back, just popped in for a new set of twig-clippers. It was great to see you, Oliver, we'll have to catch up properly sometime. Mum talks about you every now and then, maybe you should have dinner with the family. Harry and George would love to see you."
Oliver manages a weak smile. "Yeah, maybe," he says. "Send me an owl or something."
And then Charlie's gone, with another flash of that disarming smile and a flurry of robes through the door.
Aidan gently inserts his fingers between Oliver's again. "Ex-boyfriend?" he asks gently.
"I wished," Oliver admits, suddenly feeling dejected and wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed again. "Come on, Isabel'll be finished now, we should get back."