"Wait, so she's going with Krum?!" Henry exclaimed, his voice reflecting his shock as he meticulously adjusted his dress robes.
Oliver, his emotions raw and barely masked, let out a sigh and nodded. "Yup," he replied with a hint of hurt evident in his voice.
Henry, understanding his brother's pain all too well, gently placed a reassuring hand on Oliver's back. "Oh, dude, that sucks. I'm sorry," he offered sympathetically, his voice filled with genuine concern.
Oliver attempted to shrug it off, a façade of indifference slipping into his tone. "It's fine. I don't really care," he stated, masking the hurt pulsing beneath the surface.
Seeing through his brother's bravado, Henry shook his head with a knowing smile. "Cheer up, Ollie," he encouraged, his voice filled with brotherly affection. "You're a good-looking guy, and there is gonna be a bunch of pretty girls out there. I'm sure you'll find one who will dance with you."
Oliver managed a weak smile, grateful for his brother's support.
Harry and Ron descended the stairs, their groomed appearances signaling their readiness for the ball.
"Oh wow, look at you two," Henry exclaimed as they approached, admiration reflecting in his eyes.
"You boys ready or what? It's gonna be a great night for all of us!" Ron chimed in, wearing a contagious grin of excitement.
The group smiled in response, a collective buzz of anticipation filling the air. However, Oliver's face remained stoic, his emotions carefully concealed beneath a mask of indifference.
Ron's excitement faltered for a moment as he noticed Oliver's lackluster expression. "Oh, right. I'm sorry, mate," he apologized, sensing the weight of Oliver's unspoken turmoil.
Oliver shook his head, attempting to dismiss the concern. "No worries, Ron," he replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "Let's just focus on making it a memorable night for everyone."
"That's the spirit!" Ron bellowed, his voice erupting with enthusiasm, as he, Harry, and Henry strode into the great hall, brimming with anticipation for the ball to commence.
Oliver stood, entranced by their departure, torn between joining the festivities and retreating to the solace of the common room. A torrent of emotions surged within him as he grappled with his inner turmoil. Moments stretched into what felt like an eternity, each second a battlefield of indecision.
But then, with resolute determination etched across his face, Oliver's mind became resolute. In that pivotal instant, he made a fateful decision, like a solitary wolf choosing to stray from the pack. He turned on his heel, his footsteps heavy with resignation as he trudged his way back to the familiar comforts of the common room.
But as he ascended the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, Oliver's solitude was abruptly interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. He looked up, his heart pounding like a captive bird desperate for freedom. And then, in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.
Descending the stairs with an ethereal grace was none other than Hermione Granger, a vision of beauty that left Oliver breathless. In her flowing pink gown, accentuating her every curve, she seemed to radiate an otherworldly glow. Her cascading curls framed her angelic face, and her eyes sparkled with a captivating warmth that could ignite even the coldest hearts. But what captured Oliver's attention the most was her stunning smile, a smile that could melt away any remnants of heartache or despair.
Transfixed and powerless to move, Oliver stood paralyzed, lost in the overwhelming presence of Hermione. How could mere words describe the wave of emotions crashing within him?
"Hi, Oliver," Hermione said with a warm smile as she stood in front of him, her presence like a soothing balm to his troubled soul.
Oliver's sentence hung suspended, his words caught in his throat as he gazed at Hermione, captivated by her radiance. But before he could find the right words, a voice sliced through the air, interrupting the fragile moment.
"Hermy-own" came the assertive voice, abruptly cutting off Oliver's incomplete sentence.
Startled, Oliver turned to see Victor Krum ascending the stairs. His tall figure exuded an air of confidence.
"You look absolutely beautiful this fine evening," Krum stated, his tone filled with genuine admiration, as he closed the distance between himself and Hermione.
The sudden presence of Krum seemed to cast a cloud of discomfort over Hermione, her response tinged with awkwardness. "Oh, uh, thank you," she replied, her words lacking the usual grace that adorned her speech.
As Krum gracefully extended his arm, oliver's heart sank, realizing that Hermione's attention would not be his tonight.
"You go on without me; I'll be in there in a minute," Hermione said.
"I'll be waiting," Krum replied, his words dripping with quiet confidence, as he turned to descend the stairs. A fleeting smirk flashed on his face as he cast a lingering glance at Oliver, stoking the flames of a simmering rivalry.
Oliver, seething with frustration and resentment, scoffed at Krum's departing figure, his eyes burning with a fiery determination. With a swift turn, he decided to retreat, ascending the stairs again, his heart heavy with disappointment.
But just as Oliver was about to fade into the shadows, Hermione's voice echoed through the corridor, laden with concern. "Wait, Ollie, aren't you going to the ball?" she implored, her voice laced with desperation, reaching out in a futile attempt to bridge the growing divide.
A coldness settled over Oliver's demeanor, bitterness seeping into his words. "No, I think I'm gonna go back to the common room and go to bed," he retorted, his tone icy, as if his hopes had been shattered beyond repair.
Unyielding in her attempts to salvage the night, Hermione pressed on, her voice tinged with a fragile optimism. "Come on, it'll be fun!" she pleaded.
But Oliver, stung by the reminder of Hermione's "date" with Krum, shot back with venom, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "Why don't you go in? Don't wanna keep your 'date' waiting," he snapped, his emphasis on the word "date" hasty in its delivery, seething with a poisonous mix of jealousy and resentment.
Caught off guard by Oliver's cruelty, Hermione's voice wavered, her eyes brimming with a mix of hurt and indignation. "It's not like that, Oliver," she protested, her voice barely above a whisper, her plea laden with a desperate need to be understood.
Ignoring her plea, Oliver's resolve hardened, his voice tinged with dismissiveness. "Whatever," he muttered, his words carrying a finality as he coldly turned away, dragging his heavy heart up the stairs, hoping to find solace in the silent confines of solitude.
Oliver had made it back to the common room door when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around and saw Henry standing there.
"Come on, man. You're going to the ball," Henry exclaimed.
"I'm not feeling it," Oliver replied, his voice filled with sadness.
"If you go back in that room, you're admitting defeat to that knob Krum. Do you want to do that?" Henry questioned.
"No," Oliver responded, his determination clear.
"Then let's go in there and have the best night of our lives!" Henry declared, pushing Oliver gently towards the ballroom.
"I don't know, Henry," Oliver said, still hesitant.
"Oh, I do, and you're going. I'll literally drag you there if I have to," Henry said with a determined grin.
***
As Oliver made his way into the Great Hall, he was instantly captivated by the enchanting atmosphere. The Christmas decorations adorned the space, casting a warm and festive glow, while everyone around him exuded elegance in their finest attire. The enticing aroma that filled the air only added to the magical ambiance, heightening his senses.
Leading the way, Henry guided Oliver to a table where Ron, Harry, Cho, Isabella, and Fleur were seated.
"Hey, look who decided to join us!" Ron exclaimed with a broad grin as Oliver settled into a seat.
"Hello, Oliver. You look quite dashing tonight, I must say," Cho complimented, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Thank you. And you look as gorgeous as always," Oliver replied, returning the compliment with a smile.
Engaged in their lively conversation, the group began chatting amongst themselves, but Oliver found himself quietly absorbed in his own thoughts. His gaze fixated on Hermione, who stood at a distance, capturing his attention with her grace and beauty.
He could hear Krum mispronouncing Hermione's name, as he always did.
"No, it's Her-my-oh-nee," she corrected, enunciating each syllable slowly and clearly.
"Herm-own-ninny," Krum repeated, his pronunciation still slightly off.
"Close enough," Hermione responded with a hint of exasperation, rolling her eyes in frustration. In that moment, she caught Oliver stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye.
"Dumbass can't even pronounce her name right," Oliver muttered under his breath.
"Did you say something?" Fleur inquired, her curiosity piqued as she sensed Oliver's agitation.
"Uh, no, I didn't," Oliver quickly responded, trying to regain his composure and re-engage in their lively conversation. However, the image of Hermione, gracefully correcting Krum's pronunciation, lingered in his mind, stirring a mixture of frustration and longing within him.
Henry suddenly wrapped his arms around Harry, playfully teasing him. "So, Harry, my dear boy, what are your intentions with my sister tonight?"
Harry's face immediately flushed with embarrassment. "Uh, nothing. Just dancing, I guess," he stammered, his words revealing a hint of nervousness.
"Come on, leave him alone, Henry," Isabella interjected, defending Harry.
"I'm only messing around. I've always wanted to say that," Henry quipped with a mischievous grin.
Oliver noticed a table with drinks in the distance and made a decision. "I'll go get us some drinks," he announced to the group.
Walking over to the drink table, Oliver began pouring drinks when he sensed the presence of someone next to him. Without even looking, he knew it was Hermione. However, to his disappointment, she remained silent, filling a cup and retreating to her table where Krum awaited.
As Oliver made his way back to the table, Henry offered him a sympathetic look, understanding the tinge of sadness that now clouded Oliver's expression. It was a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that swirled amidst the festive cheer.
Henry suddenly got up from the table. "I'll be right back," he said before quickly hurrying away, leaving Oliver feeling a sense of curiosity mixed with concern.
As Harry continued chatting with Isabella and Ron rambled on to Fleur, Oliver found himself sitting there awkwardly, unable to fully engage in the conversations around him. His mind wandered, wondering where Henry had gone and what he might be up to.
Just as Oliver was starting to feel the weight of the silence, Cho turned to him, breaking the spell. "So, Oliver, how have things been?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine interest and concern.
Oliver considered his response for a moment before answering honestly, "Pretty decent, I guess. It's been a rollercoaster, to be honest."
Cho nodded in understanding. "I can only imagine. How has the whole tournament thing been going? It must be quite overwhelming."
Oliver took another sip from his drink, gathering his thoughts before replying, "It's been tough, no doubt about it. But I'm surviving, I guess. Taking it one day at a time."
Cho's eyes carried a mixture of empathy and sympathy. "It's been hard on Henry too. He's been worried about you the whole time. I'm glad you two are back to good terms now," she said warmly, her words accompanied by a genuine smile.
Oliver couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude and relief wash over him.
Suddenly, Henry came racing back to the table. "Oliver! I found you a dance partner!" he exclaimed.
Oliver turned around to see a beautiful blonde girl in a nice blue dress standing beside Henry. Her dreamy eyes sparkled with a sense of curiosity and wonder.
"Hello, I'm Luna Lovegood. Nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand with a radiant smile.
***
The champions all gathered on the dance floor for the first dance, as the familiar strains of a classical melody filled the air. The room was alive with the elegance and grace of the attendees.
Surprisingly, despite having had no prior practice together, Oliver and Luna found themselves effortlessly flowing together on the dance floor. Their movements synchronized as if they had been dancing together for years.
"You've got some moves," Oliver remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.
Luna chuckled softly. "My dad used to dance with me all the time when I was little. I guess some of it stuck with me," she responded, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia.
Oliver's attention momentarily shifted to Krum, who had swiftly picked up Hermione and spun her around in a display of affectionate exuberance. Inspired, Oliver couldn't resist the urge to try something similar.
With a burst of confidence, he playfully swept Luna off her feet, causing her to let out a surprised exclamation. The world around them seemed to fade away as Oliver spun her around, their laughter mingling with the music.
As the impromptu dance came to an end, Oliver gently set Luna back on her feet. They shared a breathless moment, their eyes meeting in mutual exhilaration.
"Wow, that was fun!" Luna exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up her face. Oliver couldn't help but admire her infectious energy and genuine joy.
"Thank you for being my partner for this project," Luna said sincerely.
Oliver smiled gratefully, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and admiration. "No, thank you. You really saved me here. I genuinely appreciate it," he responded.
Luna's eyes sparkled with joy as she beamed at Oliver. "Anytime, Oliver Montclair," she replied, her words laced with a subtle hint of playful mystery. With a skip in her step, she joyously bounded away, leaving Oliver to watch her go with a warm smile on his face.
"Nice moves, Montclair," Moody laughed as he walked past Oliver.
"Uh, thanks, sir," Oliver replied.
Somehow, the sight of seeing Moody in dress robes was much more terrifying than seeing him in his normal attire. The stern look on his face combined with the formal attire seemed to create an imposing presence that sent shivers down Oliver's spine.
Lost in his thoughts, Oliver was snapped back to reality as the classical music abruptly stopped, and a more upbeat song started playing. The change in tempo injected a wave of energy into the room, and instinctively, Oliver found his body moving to the rhythm.
He glanced over and noticed Henry and Cho matching his enthusiasm, busting their own moves on the dance floor. As they laughed and let loose, Oliver couldn't help but join in on the fun. The stress and tension of everything seemed to melt away as they danced together, forming a fleeting bond of camaraderie.
After dancing for quite a while, Oliver went back to their table to catch his breath, finding Ron already seated and looking pretty exhausted.
Oliver took a sip from his drink, trying to gather his thoughts, when Hermione approached him. "Mind if I sit here?" she asked, pointing to the seat next to him.
Oliver's expression turned sour, and he hesitated for a moment before responding, "Yes, I do mind actually."
Hermione's face instantly displayed hurt, but she sat down anyway. "I'm sorry, Ollie. I came with Krum only as friends, I swear."
"Uh huh," Oliver said dismissively, turning away from Hermione and taking another sip from his drink.
"Oliver, I wanted to go with you, you idiot!" Hermione exclaimed, a mix of hurt and frustration evident in her voice.
Oliver turned back toward Hermione. "Then why didn't you just ask me?"
Hermione's voice cracked, tears welling up in her eyes. "I tried! But every time I did, you ignored me!"
Oliver's heart sank as he realized the impact of his actions. He had been so caught up in his own struggles and frustrations that he hadn't noticed Hermione's attempts to reach out. Guilt started to wash over him.
"I'm really sorry for assuming you didn't want to go with me," Hermione said, her voice laced with regret and a touch of vulnerability. "I wanted to come with you so badly, but you've been so consumed by the tournament that I didn't want to burden you with my own desires."
Oliver's guilt twisted within him like a sharp knife, conflicting with the remnants of hurt that lingered in his heart.
"So what was the plan, Mione?" he whispered, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and defensiveness. "To go with Krum and then expect me to be happy about it when you return?"
"No, Oliver, that was never the plan," Hermione said, her voice steady but filled with sincerity. "I didn't go with Krum because I have feelings for him. I love you and only you."
Oliver's heart wavered at Hermione's words, caught between the remnants of hurt and the flicker of hope. He took a deep breath, struggling to find his voice amidst the swirling emotions. "If you love me, why did you choose another guy over me?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and pain.
Hermione's eyes widened, her hurt mirroring his own. "I'd choose you over him in a heartbeat," she said, her voice earnest. "I never had any intentions of hurting you."
Oliver's grip tightened on his emotions, the turmoil within him threatening to break free. "That doesn't change the fact that you did, Hermione," he choked out, his voice laced with anguish. "Do you know how much it hurt me seeing you dance with him, laugh with him, and look like you're having the time of your life without me?"
"I understand, but you don't need to keep throwing it back in my face," Hermione said, her voice conveying her frustration.
They both remained silent for a few moments before Hermione spoke up again. "Would you like to dance?" She asked, her hand extended toward Oliver.
Oliver scoffed at the offer and walked away, leaving Hermione disappointed.
Hermione turned and saw Ron, seated nearby and watching the entire argument unfold. Her disappointment turned to annoyance as she realized her argument had been a spectacle for Ron.
***
Oliver sat in the common room by the fire, his thoughts consumed by the events that had transpired with Hermione. Each detail replayed in his mind, like a broken record on repeat.
Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open interrupted Oliver's thoughts. He hadn't anticipated anyone coming back to the common room, as the ball was still in full swing.
"Hey Ollie," Isabella said, her voice filled with concern as she settled down next to him. "Are you okay?"
Oliver sighed heavily, sinking deeper into the couch and lifting his gaze to the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm not really sure what to feel," he replied, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Isabella placed a comforting hand on top of Oliver's hand. "I'm sorry to hear that. For what it's worth, she truly did want to go with you. It's all she has been talking about for the past few weeks. And I can guarantee you that there is no way she likes Krum romantically."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Krum is a big, dumb oaf with no brains. Do you really think Hermione is that shallow?" Isabella laughed.
Oliver let out a quiet chuckle. "Weren't you madly in love with him just five minutes ago?"
"That's beside the point, okay. The point I'm trying to make is that Hermione loves you deeply. She even told me, saying that no other person has ever made her feel the way you do."
Isabella's words resonated with Oliver. Perhaps there was still hope for their relationship, and maybe the uncertainties could be replaced with trust and love once again.
"Do whatever you want with that information. In my opinion, you two are absolutely perfect for each other," Isabella said as she stood up. "Now, I'm going to head back to the ball."
As Isabella walked away, Oliver's mind raced with regret. He realized the magnitude of his mistake and how he had shattered Hermione's anticipation for a magical night. An overwhelming desire to make amends flooded his thoughts. How could he possibly redeem himself?
Suddenly, inspiration struck. It may not be grand, but he hoped it would bring a flicker of happiness to Hermione's heart.
Without wasting a moment, Oliver sprinted after Isabella, determined to catch up before she disappeared entirely. "Please, tell Hermione to meet me in the courtyard!" he called out, his voice filled with urgency.
***
Oliver walked out into the courtyard, taking in the breathtaking sight of the beautiful snow gently falling from the starry night sky above. Feeling a wave of nerves wash over him, he anxiously pondered what he should say to Hermione. As he settled himself onto a nearby bench, thoughts raced through his mind, making him even more anxious.
Minutes seemed to pass like hours as Oliver sat there, consumed by his nervous anticipation. Just when he thought he couldn't wait any longer, Hermione's head peeked out from around the corner. Instantly, Oliver's heart skipped a beat, and he sprang to his feet, unable to tear his eyes away from her.
Silence enveloped them both as they stood there, locked in a profound moment. The words that Oliver desperately wanted to speak seemed to elude him, leaving his mind blank and his mouth dry. Taking a deep breath, Hermione broke the silence with a gentle question, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
"Your sister mentioned you wanted to talk to me?" she asked, her voice slightly wavering. Oliver's heart sank as he noticed the traces of tears on Hermione's face, evident through her puffy eyes and smudged makeup.
Oliver's hand instinctively found its way to the back of his head, a nervous gesture as he struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, uhh..." he began, his sentence hanging in the air unfinished. The truth was, he had no clue how to proceed.
Meanwhile, Hermione stood there, her gaze unwavering, her beautiful eyes fixated on Oliver. It felt as if she was silently urging him to express himself, assuring him that she was listening with utmost care.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Oliver took a deep breath, hoping to steady his racing heart. His voice emerged, laced with sincerity and remorse.
"I'm sorry for being such a jerk to you. I understand your point of view now, and I apologize for ruining a night you were really excited about. I fully understand if you've reached the point where you're done with me."
Hermione rushed over to Oliver and enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace. Overwhelmed with relief, she murmured, "I'll never be done with you, Oliver. I love you more than anything. To be honest, I was afraid you were done with me."
A shared chuckle escaped Oliver's lips as he tightened his hold around Hermione, feeling an immense sense of gratitude and love for this remarkable person in front of him. "Yeah, that's never happening," he affirmed softly. "You're my whole world, and I don't ever want to be without you."
Hermione's smile widened, conveying the depths of her joy and love. Without a moment's hesitation, she leaned in and met Oliver's lips in a passionate kiss, sealing their renewed commitment and igniting a renewed sense of hope for their future together. As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the snow continued to fall gently, as if celebrating their love story.
"Would you care to dance?" Oliver asked, pointing to a speaker he had brought with him.
"I'd love to," Hermione replied, her face lighting up with excitement.
Oliver pressed play, and the familiar melody began to fill the courtyard. It was a song he had shared with Hermione during one of their unforgettable summers together. She had confessed that she adored the song, even expressing a desire to have it played at her future wedding.
As the enchanting notes reached Hermione's ears, she couldn't help but exclaim, "No way!" Her smile grew wider, radiating pure joy and anticipation.
"It's not quite a wedding, but still," Oliver remarked, his voice laced with affection. He extended his hand, inviting Hermione to join him on the makeshift dance floor that the snowy courtyard had transformed into.
She gladly accepted, stepping into Oliver's embrace and feeling a surge of warmth and familiarity. As they swayed and twirled to the music under the starry night sky, time seemed to stand still. In that moment, their connection deepened, and they both knew that this dance, though not their wedding, held a beautiful significance - a promise of enduring love and cherished memories to come.
Finishing off the dance, Oliver gently leaned Hermione backwards, gracefully guiding her downwards until her back softly touched the ground. As their lips met in a tender kiss, Oliver held her in his hands, ensuring her safety and warmth within his embrace.
Breathless and filled with curiosity about the future, Hermione broke the kiss and asked, "So, what now?"
"I'm not sure," Oliver confessed, a trace of uncertainty and honesty in his voice. "Honestly, I never really thought I'd get this far."
Just as Oliver pondered their next steps, a sudden expression of shock flashed across Hermione's face, causing her to raise her voice, "Ollie, look!"
Bewildered, Oliver quickly turned his head, scanning the courtyard with anticipation. But to his confusion, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Puzzled, he looked back at Hermione, about to speak.
Before he could utter a word, a snowball came out of nowhere, colliding with Oliver's face, interrupting his sentence. The impact smudged his cheeks with a mixture of snow and laughter.
Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Got ya!"
"Oh, you did not just do that!" Oliver laughed and reached down to gather a snowball.
Hermione's eyes widened, and without a moment's hesitation, she scampered away, seeking refuge and plotting her next attack.
"It's on now, girl!" Oliver shouted playfully, determination and excitement building in his voice. He quickly molded the freshly gathered snow into a perfect spherical shape, bracing himself for the snowball fight to come.
All he could hear was Hermione's joyful giggles echoing across the enchanting courtyard, instilling a sense of energy and thrill in the frosty air.
Hermione and Oliver both burst out of their cover simultaneously, each launching a snowball towards the other.
Oliver narrowly missed his target, the snowball whizzing past Hermione's shoulder. However, Hermione's aim was spot on, as her snowball struck Oliver square in the chest.
"Got ya again! Come on, Mr. Hogwarts champion, I'm sure you can do better than that!" Hermione playfully taunted, a gleeful twinkle in her eyes.
Oliver couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's playful banter, admiring the spirited fire and competitive nature she infused into their snowball fight. With a sly smile, he gathered more snow in his hands, determined to show her that he was not one to back down from a challenge.
Coming out of cover again, Oliver dove forward and managed to hit Hermione's shoulder with the snowball.
Hermione, momentarily taken by surprise, retreated behind cover to rebuild her arsenal of snowballs. Peeking out from her hiding spot, she held the freshly made snowballs, scanning the area to locate Oliver, who seemed to have vanished.
"Where'd you go?" she called out, her voice filled with playful curiosity, as she continued to search for her elusive opponent.
Unbeknownst to Hermione, Oliver had maneuvered himself strategically, blending in with the snowy surroundings. With a mischievous grin, he swiftly emerged from his hiding spot, surprising her and catching her off guard. He lunged forward, tackling Hermione playfully, their laughter echoing through the crisp winter air as they tumbled down in a tangled heap of snow and joy.
"Got ya!" Oliver playfully shouted as he pinned Hermione to the ground.
Hermione's face lit up with a huge grin. "My, my, it seems you've got me this time."
"So, I win then?" Oliver asked, his voice filled with playful triumph.
"We'll call it a draw," Hermione responded, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
"You're a worthy opponent, I suppose, Hermione Granger, the ice queen," Oliver teasingly remarked, leaning down, his lips inches away from hers, ready to seal their playful competition with a sweet kiss.
Just as Oliver's lips were about to make contact, a mischievous glint crossed Hermione's eyes. Swift as a snow leopard, she grabbed a perfectly formed snowball from beside her and expertly launched it towards Oliver's face, the impact landing with a satisfying thud.
Laughter erupted in the snowy surroundings as Oliver, now sporting a snow-covered face, looked at Hermione in mock disbelief.
"You little devil!" Oliver exclaimed, attempting to wipe the snow from his face.
Hermione couldn't help but let out an adorable, mischievous laugh - a sound that only fueled Oliver's determination.
"Oh, you're really gonna get it now," he warned playfully.
A mischievous grin spread across Hermione's face as she looked up at Oliver. "Get what?" she asked, anticipation dancing in her eyes.
A sly smile played on Oliver's lips, a hint of mystery in his eyes. "How about I show you?" he proposed, his voice filled with an enticing promise.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She bit her lip, unable to hide her excitement. "Okay," she replied.