My Harry Potter One Shots :)

Each Time (Oliver Wood One Shot)

I watched as Oliver, my best friend since our first year, zoomed past me on his broomstick, throwing me a quick wink.  My heart instantly fluttered and I got butterflies in my stomach.  Just like every time he looked at me.  Of course, I couldn't help but blush at my stupidness.  There was no way that Oliver Wood, Captain and Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, would ever look at me any other way than just a friend.  But still, I had hope he would.

Gryffindor was playing Ravenclaw this game.  I watched Cho Chang, the Seeker for Ravenclaw, lurch forward to nab the Snitch, but it fluttered right between her grasp and streaked away.  Ten minutes later, Harry Potter, the Seeker for my house (Gryffindor), was grasping the little gold bugger between his fingers.  I flew up to my feet, clapping and screaming with the rest of Gryffindor.

After the game, like a ritual, we all gathered into the common room to celebrate.  When I first walked in, I immediately looked, and found, Oliver.  Screeching, I streaked over and tackled him, squeezing him with all my might.  Just like every time they played a game.  Even if they didn't win, I still did and told Oliver every highlight of the game.

"You were brilliant, as always," I gushed.  Playing with the scarf that he wore around his neck, I bit my lip and looked up at him, wanting him to see.  But of course he wouldn't.  He was completely oblivious.  "You really were."

"Thanks," he shouted over the commotion.  Out of nowhere, he hugged me close to his chest.  I couldn't help but melt into him.  "I could have never done it without you, Alex."  He took a step back and looked deep into my eyes, but not deep enough.  Oliver grinned.  "I love you . . .  You're the best friend a guy could have."

In that moment, I felt so much I thought my heart would burst.  When he first said "I love you," I instantly thought of saying, "I love you, too."  But when he said the last, completely predictable and obvious part, I felt so much pain that I feared I would just break down into loud sobs right there.  But I didn't.

I did, however, feel a small tear trickle down my cheek.  Damn it, Alex!  I thought in that moment.

Oliver, being the good friend that he was, asked what was wrong.  He held my face up to look at.  "Please, Alex," he pleaded.  "What's wrong?"

He thought I was avoiding the question, when, in fact, I was trying to think of an excuse.  Finally coming up with one, I looked up at him and smiled genuinely.

"I'm just so happy you think that about me.  I love you, too, Oliver." I tried to keep my voice as calm as possble at this part. "You're an amazing friend.  There's no words to express what you mean to me . . . as a friend."  I added the last part because it gave too much away.

But there were words to express how I felt about Oliver.  I loved him and I wanted him to see that.  I wanted him to see how happy I could make him and he could make me, if he just gave me a chance. I felt as if my heart would burst everytime he looked at me or even walked by me.  I thought of him constantly.  Not in the creeper way, but in a way that made me so depressed because he was so amazing.  I got all sweaty when he was close to me for a long time, out of nervousness.  I got so stuttery around him, sometimes he couln't understand me.  And all because I felt that if I went one day without seeing him, I could never be happy until he made an appearance again.