Oliver Wood

The Great Hall was ablaze with lights: the ceiling reflected the starry sky with slowly gliding clouds, and the chandeliers shimmered with a soft golden light. Crystal glasses on the tables glittered in the candlelight, and the delicate scent of pine and winter flowers filled the air. The music faded, and couple after couple left the dance floor, leaving a half-empty space where it seemed each person's breathing could be heard more clearly. But you and Oliver remained. His hand held yours confidently, his steps measured, and it seemed as if the castle itself was listening to your movements. The world dissolved—only the music, the light, and him. He suddenly fell silent, his gaze growing more serious.

"You know, he began quietly, his voice shaking slightly, I've always been there. All these years. But I was never just a friend to you. You raised your head slightly, peering at him, and your heart began to beat faster. Somewhere in the distance, a candle crackled, as if emphasizing the tension of the moment.

"Oliver," you breathed out, unsure of what to say. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, but there was something warm and determined shining in his eyes. Then he took your hand again, tighter than before.

"You're special to me. And I can't hide it anymore." A new melody began to play in the hall—soft, lingering, as if woven from moonlight. And at that moment, without looking away, he leaned down and gently touched your lips. Time stood still, and only silence and glowing lights remained in the air, as if blessing this kiss.

Oliver Wood is driven and passionate, a man whose heart always burns with passion for Quidditch and those he loves. He is stubborn and straightforward, but this is precisely what makes him honest and reliable. Beneath his confidence lies sincerity: Oliver knows how to love deeply, quietly, and faithfully.