With just another sigh slipping out of my mouth, I turned my head away from the Quidditch fields to gather up my stuff, which included my bag and some notebooks with my daily experiences on these fields. Now, I didn't play Quidditch myself; oh, definitely not. But I came here every day to watch the team train for matches. Yes, I indeed know the team doesn't train every day. But one player of the team does.

Oliver Wood.

My notebooks were filled with his name, mainly surrounded by describing words about how he was flying today. Sometimes I tried to draw him, but I got distracted by his actions and my drawings ended up in the trash can.

But even though Oliver was my main subject in my notebooks, I never had a chance to talk to him. "Why?" you may think. Well, it's hard to notice someone who's, instead of cheering compliments, just sitting quietly behind the Quidditch stands and trying to hide every time anyone looked into my directions.

Fine, so I was spying on him. Big deal. I wouldn't talk to him anyway. At least, that's what I thought. And actually, I never really talked to him, until the day I got caught.

I put my notebooks into my bag, while quickly checking in my mind what subjects I still had to do this afternoon. As I was thinking, I walked my way back to the castle, almost automatically since I'd done it so many times. Transfiguration; I had to make up an entire essay about transforming animals. Divination; checking if my predicted horoscope came true. D.A.D.A; writing down the consequences of using an unforgivable curse. Potions; creating a potion to conquer the example of profe-

And that's when I bumped into a warm, solid body. Right in front of me.

What do you do when you bump into people? You apologize. First thing I did; I backed off, tried to find the right words, and froze right on the spot.

'Oh, sorry Y/n. Are you alright?' Oliver asked me, with a playful frown formed on his forehead. What happened to the words I wrote? The words I was going to say when something like this happened?

'S-Sure, I'm good,' was the only thing coming from my lips. Well, this wasn't at all like the smooth "Yeah, it's cool. By the way, are you doing anything this Saturday?" I had in mind. Luckily for the part in my head that wanted to lynch myself right now, he chuckled and smiled. 'Great. I just saw you walking up to here form your spot on the fields, so I thought I'd check in with you.'

Multiple things raced through my head. He knew I was sitting there? Did he notice me watching him? And how in Merlin's name did he even know my name?

Oliver's eyes looked straight through my thoughts, as he interrupted them with another question. 'I've never seen you play before, actually. Do you play?'

Alright, I was given another chance to redeem myself and say something smart. And witty. And funny. But, mostly, to say something that would give me some more time with him.

With that last sentence in mind, I decided to throw everything around, as I bluntly said: 'No, I pretty much suck.'

That sentence saved my dreams.

Most people would've laughed it off, and continue to conversation with something about school and studies, but Oliver didn't. His smile turned even bigger, his eyes started sparkling and perhaps, if possible, I could even see a little shade appearing on his cheeks when he asked: 'If you want, I can teach you?'

This would have been no problem – since him teaching me Quidditch was already amazing as I thought about it – but it seemed to be turning into one. Because of the stupid lie I told him – indeed, the lie about how I sucked at the best sport ever – was probably too hard to hide if he'd actually help me during his offered help. How was I supposed to hide that I was an amazing Quidditch player? Apparently, my subconscious me knew the answer. To just simply lie again.

'Well, if you want,' I said, mentally face-palming myself. Cool. I should've known lies could get you into trouble, so I totally took responsibility for this. I'd blame myself when this would go wrong.

Which seemed to be very soon.

'Alright, your first lesson: holding your balance on a broom,' Oliver stated and handed me his broom. I took it, with a burning feeling of guilt in my stomach. I had my own broom, of course, a Nimbus 2000. Judging by Oliver's broom, he didn't have enough money for a new one, making me feel yet more ashamed.

With a nervous look over at my teacher, I stepped onto the broom and set off from the ground, barely a few inches, but enough for an inexperienced person to fall. However, I didn't, and I could see the surprise on Oliver's eyes. This soon turned into happiness and he grinned widely.

'Well, look at that. You must be the first person to immediately hold your balance first time you ride a broom.' 'I-I guess,' I muttered, and tried to wiggle the broomstick a bit so it'd seem it wasn't really perfect. He didn't pay attention to it, sadly, and just went on: 'I suppose we can go on to lesson two, hm?'

'Actually,' I quickly said, 'I really have to – eh – do stuff – you know...' Even though I was having the best time of my life, my nerves were killing me and if I didn't want to faint, I had to get out of here and grab my notebooks. Luckily, Oliver nodded, though the light in his eyes was off.

'Yeah, I understand. I have to go too, I still have to update the team on the new schedule...'

My heart still beat like crazy as we walked back to the castle, awkwardly talking about Quidditch. It felt comfortable, yet not comfortable enough for just two random people talking. But, maybe we weren't just two random people talking, I thought and smiled silently.

'...but really, I can see you're talented with flying. With some more trainings, you might be a good shot for the team. What do you think?' Oliver asked me, and I swiftly nodded. 'Yeah, that would be really fun! But do you actually think I've got it?' 'Yes, absolutely. Did you get this from your parents? Or do you have a sibling who's really good with flying?'

It was out before I could notice it. 'No,' I said, 'but I used to practice a lot when I was younger and –' My cheeks immediately lit up, I could feel it, and I pressed my lips together as fast as I could. Oliver slowly stopped walking and frowned. 'I thought you'd never been on a broom before?' he asked, looking down to me as thoughts in my head tried to make up an acceptable excuse.

'Eh...' I mumbled, and the only reaction I got to that was the feeling my head would explode. 'Alright, I made it up. I just thought it would be fun if you taught me how to fly,' I muttered, quickly looking down to my feet. 'So it'd be fun if I taught you stuff you already were amazingly good at?' I heard him ask, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh. 'Well... there's a bit more behind it. It's just – well...'

'I know,' he said, to my surprise, and I looked up again, only to see him smile. 'I know you sit behind the stands every day, I know you're a very talented Quidditch player, and I know that I kind of have a crush on you.'

As my eyes widened at that, he chuckled softly. 'I also happen to know that you seem to have the same feeling for me, which is pretty positive, because that gives me the chance to do this.'

His face came unexpectedly close to mine, as I tried to keep gazing into his hazel eyes. They soon closed, and it was then when I noticed he was kissing me. Actually kissing me, no pecks, it was a real kiss. It took me seconds to realize it and as I did, I kissed him back, smiling into it.

It seemed minutes later when we finally broke apart and Oliver was grinning like never before. 'Well, I guess it was a good thing I decided to teach you how to fly a broom then, hm?' he said and stroked a bit of hair out of my blushing face.

'You bet it was,' I laughed, and as I said it, I realized this moment would probably fill up most of the still empty pages in my notebooks.