Diagon Alley
Oliver strolled alongside the group, the crisp autumn air brushing against his skin as they left the restaurant. His thoughts drifted back to a moment that had been on his mind for days—when he had first met Aurora. He glanced ahead, where Aurora was walking with Pansy, the two of them sharing quiet laughter. Seeing her again had brought a strange sense of familiarity as if they had known each other for years.
Oliver couldn’t help but smile despite the embarrassment of the morning. The whole Daily Prophet ordeal had been ridiculous, but the night that led to it? That was worth it.
“You’re staring again,” Blaise teased from beside him, his tone oozing with smug amusement.
Oliver blinked and pulled back to reality. He smirked, giving Blaise a nudge. “Shut it, Zabini. I wasn’t staring.”
“Sure you weren’t,” Blaise replied with a raised eyebrow. “Just like you ‘weren’t’ cozying up to her at the club last night.”
“Cozying up?” Oliver laughed, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that.”
Blaise grinned, clearly loving the game. “Oh, come on. It’s written all over your face.”
They walked a bit further, the usual hum of Diagon Alley growing louder as the shops came to life. The twins were already ahead, throwing each other mischievous looks that probably meant they were planning another prank. Draco and Theodore followed their faces, showing apparent signs of regret from the heavy drinking the night before.
Oliver snuck another glance at Aurora. She was beautiful in the soft afternoon light; her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she talked animatedly with Pansy. He caught her looking back at him for a brief moment before she quickly turned away, and he chuckled to himself, knowing she’d seen him.
He quickened his pace, slipping in beside her. “So,” he started casually, “about that little headline this morning... I think you handled it very well.”
Aurora groaned, her eyes narrowing in mock frustration. “I can’t believe Blaise brought that stupid article. I should’ve hexed him right there.”
Oliver laughed, the sound warm and easy. “Honestly, I was more surprised than anything. We’re front-page news?”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I didn’t expect that. Is there really nothing better for them to write about? We were just talking.”
He nodded in agreement. “Right? But I guess when you’re seen with someone like me...” He bumped her shoulder lightly. “Quidditch star and all that.”
Aurora rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Please. You’re impossible.”
“Hey, I’m just stating the facts,” Oliver said with a grin, loving how easy it was to fall into this playful back-and-forth with her.
Her expression softened, and she looked at him with something gentler, something he couldn’t quite place.
“So,” Oliver cleared his throat, feeling suddenly more nervous than he expected, “do you think Blaise is going to keep milking this whole ‘romantic scandal’ thing?”
Aurora groaned again, rubbing her temples. “Absolutely. He thrives on drama. And Fred and George? They just make it worse.”
As if summoned, the twins bounded back, laughing about something they’d overheard. Fred shot Oliver a wink, still clearly amused by the morning’s events. “You’re lucky, Wood,” he called. “Dancing with Aurora and getting a headline out of it? Not bad for a few days’ work.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, turning to Aurora. “See? This is what I have to deal with.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t envy you at all.”
As they lingered outside Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the crisp autumn air full of energy and promise, Oliver found himself caught up in the vibrant buzz of Diagon Alley. The afternoon sun illuminated the rows of colorful storefronts and the smell of fresh pastries mixed with the scent of warm butterbeer wafting from nearby cafes. It was the perfect day for wandering, and the group seemed in no rush to split up.
Aurora stretched her arms, glancing around with a soft smile.
So,” Blaise began, “what’s the plan for the day? Or are we all just following Aurora around?”
“I’m not in charge of today,” Aurora retorted with a laugh. “But I’m definitely heading to Flourish and Blotts. I need to pick up a new spell book.”
Oliver, standing beside her, perked up. “A spell book, huh? What are you working on?”
She glanced at him, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Just some advanced charms. You know, in case I need to hex Blaise for his tabloid stunts.”
Blaise raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.”
The group made their way to Flourish and Blotts. Inside, the shelves were stacked with towering piles of books, from spell theory to Quidditch biographies. Aurora immediately drifted toward the Charms section, her fingers tracing the spines of several advanced spell books. Oliver found himself nearby, pretending to browse but really just stealing glances at her.
While Aurora picked out a few books, Pansy wandered toward the fashion magazines, Draco and Theodore debated over potion manuals, and Fred and George began plotting pranks for the bookstore staff. The gentle hum of chatter and the rustle of parchment filled the air, creating a sense of peaceful chaos.
Once Aurora had her books in hand, the group regrouped outside.
“Alright,” Fred said, “what’s next? Anyone up for a bit of Quidditch gear shopping?” He nudged Oliver. “You need a new broomstick polish?”
Oliver chuckled but shook his head. “I’ve got plenty, mate. But I wouldn’t say no to stopping by Quality Quidditch Supplies.”
As they approached the Quidditch shop, Oliver couldn’t help but feel a rush of nostalgia. He and the twins exchanged a knowing glance, all three of them itching to check out the latest broom models and equipment. Aurora watched with mild amusement as the boys practically pressed their faces to the window, ogling the newest Firebolt model on display.
“You lot and your brooms,” Pansy said, smirking.
“I don’t think you understand,” Oliver replied with a grin. “This is art.”
Inside the shop, Oliver marveled at the sleek broom designs, the perfect curvature of the handles, and the shimmer of enchanted wood. Aurora trailed behind, watching with amusement as the boys excitedly debated which model had the best maneuverability.
“I’m going to have to keep you from buying half the shop, aren’t I?” Aurora teased.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re welcome to try.”
After an hour of ogling brooms and testing out new gloves, the group made their way back out into the bustling street. The day had flown by in a haze of laughter, shopping, and playful banter.
******
As they approached the Leaky Cauldron, where the group planned to have a final drink before heading home, Oliver’s heart quickened. He knew this day was coming to an end, but part of him didn’t want it to. There was something easy and comforting about being around Aurora and her friends.
They lingered outside for a moment while the others filed into the pub. Oliver hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at Aurora. “You know, I’ve enjoyed today. It’s been... nice.”
Aurora tilted her head, giving him a curious smile. “Even with the Prophet drama?”
He laughed, shrugging. “Even with that. Honestly, I’ve had worse.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Worse than being plastered on the front page of the Prophet?”
He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say there was an incident with a broomstick, a rogue Bludger, and a very angry photographer.”
Aurora’s laugh was infectious, and Oliver felt a warmth spread through him. She had a way of making him feel at ease, even with all the craziness surrounding them.
“I’ll have to hear that story one day,” she said, her smile lingering as she glanced up at him.
“Maybe over another coffee,” Oliver suggested, a little bolder now, hoping she’d say yes. “Preferably one that I don’t spill on you this time.”
Aurora chuckled, meeting his gaze. “I think I’d like that.”
Before they could say more, Fred stuck his head out of the Leaky Cauldron’s door, grinning. “Oi! Are you two coming in, or should we leave you to your little chat?”
As the group gathered inside the Leaky Cauldron, Fred and George wasted no time claiming a large, well-worn table in the cozy corner near the fireplace. The warm glow from the lanterns cast flickering shadows across the pub, giving it a homely atmosphere. The air was thick with the smell of freshly baked bread, sizzling sausages, and savory pies, mingling with the faint scent of burning wood from the hearth. The pub, always a hub of activity, felt like the perfect refuge.
Oliver and Aurora settled in beside each other, their legs brushing under the table as they did so. Aurora rubbed her temples and glanced at the menu with a sigh.
“I think we all need something substantial after today,” she muttered, eyes scanning the list. “A drink isn’t going to cut it.”
Pansy groaned in agreement, slumping back into her chair as if her entire body ached from the night before. “I second that. My head still feels like it's been cursed.”
Blaise, sitting across from them, tossed his napkin dramatically onto his lap with a flourish, clearly still thriving on the chaos of the morning. “I need something to finish soaking up all the firewhisky from last night. My stomach’s still doing cartwheels.”
“Good call,” Oliver added with a grin, leaning slightly toward Aurora as if sharing a secret. “I could eat a hippogriff right now. Something tells me we all need a hearty meal to recover.”
The server approached, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the group—a mix of hungover witches and wizards with far too much energy left over from the night before. Fred, never one to shy away from taking the lead, quickly ordered a round of pumpkin juice and butterbeer for everyone, while George insisted on a warm loaf of bread to start, with plenty of butter, of course.
The group took a few moments to study their menus. Oliver leaned closer to Aurora again, his eyes scanning over the options with interest. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Shepherd’s pie,” Aurora replied, glancing up at him with a small smile. “It’s hearty and comforting—exactly what I need after this morning.”
Oliver nodded. “Good choice. I’m going with the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Something solid.” His tone was casual, but there was a warmth in the way he spoke to her, a subtle connection that neither could ignore.
Once everyone placed their orders—ranging from rich stews to hearty meat pies and roasted vegetables—the conversation picked up again. The twins, ever the entertainers, launched into a lively recount of their latest prank inventions, their voices animated as they described explosions of fireworks and sneezing charms that had wreaked havoc in the shop earlier that week.
Blaise, still reveling in the drama from earlier, leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face as his gaze shifted to Aurora and Oliver. “So, Aurora,” he began, his voice dripping with amusement, “are you planning to steal the hearts of any more Quidditch players over dinner? Or is Oliver the lucky one for tonight?”
Aurora didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, actually, that reminds me,” she said sweetly. She leaned forward, rummaging through her purse for a moment, then raised her middle finger at Blaise with a slow, deliberate motion, a wicked smile on her lips.
Meeting Blaise’s smug expression with one of her own. “One more word and I’ll hex you into next week.”
The group erupted into laughter. Even Pansy, who was still battling the remnants of her hangover, couldn’t help but giggle at Aurora’s bold response.
Blaise, ever the dramatic one, clutched his chest in mock horror. “Aurora! I’m wounded! How could you threaten me like this?”
“You’ll live,” she shot back, her grin widening as she tucked the parchment away. “Barely.”
The server returned with their drinks and a basket of warm bread, which Fred and George immediately tore into. Their earlier laughter morphed into enthusiastic appreciation for the food.
“Merlin, I needed this,” Fred mumbled, butter dripping down his fingers as he tore into a slice.
George nodded in agreement. “Nothing like bread to heal all wounds. Even hangovers.”
Oliver, watching the exchange with an amused smile, leaned back in his chair and placed an arm on the back of Aurora's chair, his gaze drifting once again to her. She caught his eye, and for a brief moment, they shared a quiet, knowing look—one that acknowledged the absurdity of the morning but also the ease they seemed to find in each other’s company.
Before long, their food arrived, steaming plates of roast beef, pies, and roasted vegetables filling the table with mouthwatering scents. The group wasted no time, diving into their meals with gusto. Oliver’s roast beef was perfectly tender, the Yorkshire pudding crispy on the edges and soft in the center. Aurora’s shepherd’s pie was rich and flavorful, the layers of mashed potatoes and minced meat melting together in a satisfying bite.
Between bites of food and sips of butterbeer, the conversation flowed easily. The twins continued to regale the table with stories, Draco and Theodore chiming in with sarcastic quips, while Blaise made a few more half-hearted attempts at teasing Aurora and Oliver—though this time with far less success.
The group, full from their meals and lost in their own conversations, seemed content. Fred and George were already discussing plans for a new prank product they were developing, speaking in rapid, excited whispers. Draco leaned back in his chair, looking more relaxed than earlier, while Theodore rubbed his temples, still suffering the effects of too much firewhisky. Pansy, sipping her butterbeer, looked at Aurora with a knowing smirk.
Blaise, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, leaned forward again, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, Oliver,” he began, his voice light but loaded with implication. “I’ve been meaning to ask. When are you planning your next... headline-worthy event with Aurora?”
Aurora groaned, resting her face in her hands. “For Merlin’s sake, Blaise.”
She had reached her limit. With a mix of exasperation and determination, she grabbed her wand from her purse and flicked it in Blaise's direction, muttering the incantation for the Lip-Locking Charm.
In an instant, Blaise's mouth was firmly pressed shut, his eyes widening in surprise. He tried to speak, but only muffled sounds escaped from his sealed lips. The rest of the table burst into laughter, with Fred and George nearly falling out of their chairs from the force of their amusement.
Oliver watched with a mixture of shock and admiration. “That’s one way to handle it,” he said, grinning.
Aurora felt a surge of satisfaction. “Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands.”
Blaise, now thoroughly embarrassed and unable to say a word, looked around in a helpless panic. He tried to use his hands to mime an apology, but the gesture only made the others laugh harder.
Pansy, catching her breath from laughing, managed to say, “I think Blaise has learned his lesson. For now.”
Aurora’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and relief. “I’ll take care of the counter-curse,” she said, her tone softening as she looked at Blaise. “But let’s not make a habit of this, alright?”
Blaise gave a slight nod, his eyes still wide but now less panicked. Aurora cast the counter-curse, and Blaise’s mouth was freed. He took a deep breath, clearly relieved but also looking sheepish.
“Thanks,” he said, though his voice was still tinged with a hint of resentment. He whispered to himself, “Let's hope they don't put that in the prophet.”
Aurora shot him a warning look.
As the orange light of the sunset filtered through the windows of the Leaky Cauldron, casting a warm glow across the room, Fred and George exchanged knowing glances. They had been whispering excitedly about their latest ideas all evening, and now it was time to put their plans into action. With a decisive nod, Fred stood up, followed by George.
“Alright, we’re heading to the shop to continue our brainstorming session,” Fred announced, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Join us if you want to escape the last lingering effects of your hangovers,” George added with a smirk, nudging Draco and Theodore, who were still recovering from their overindulgence.
Draco and Theodore, eager for a change of scenery, readily agreed and followed Fred and George out of the pub. Pansy, having enjoyed the evening but ready to head home, also said her goodbyes and left, leaving Aurora and Oliver to enjoy a quieter moment together.
Oliver turned to Aurora, his eyes curious and interested. “So, what’s your favorite place in Diagon Alley?”
Aurora pondered the question for a moment, a thoughtful smile spreading across her face. “I think it has to be the Apothecary. There’s something calming about all the different ingredients and potions. It’s like a magical sanctuary.”
Oliver’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “I’ve always been more of a Zonko’s kind of guy, but I can see the appeal of a place like that.”
Aurora laughed softly. “Zonko’s is definitely a lot more... energetic. But I think that’s what makes it fun.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, both savoring the unexpected connection they had found. The setting sun cast a warm, golden hue over the pub, creating a serene atmosphere that seemed to mirror their growing rapport.
Oliver’s thoughts raced as he took in the moment. This is nice, he mused, a rare, quiet moment where it feels like everything else just fades away. I’ve been so caught up in the whirlwind of new responsibilities and media nonsense that I forgot how much I enjoy just talking and getting to know someone. He glanced at Aurora, her smile warm and genuine, and felt a pang of something he hadn't quite allowed himself to feel in a while—hope.
“So, what’s next for us?” Oliver asked his tone light but with a hint of genuine curiosity.
Aurora tilted her head, considering the question. “Well, the day’s almost over, and I have my first day with the Cannons tomorrow, so I’ll have to be leaving soon.”
Oliver’s face brightened with a playful grin. “Or maybe another round of pumpkin juice?”
Aurora’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You’re always trying to get me into trouble, you know that.”
She waved the waitress over and ordered two more pumpkin juices. They settled back into their seats, savoring the quiet and the rich flavor of their drinks. The atmosphere between them was relaxed, filled with a sense of contentment and mutual understanding.
Oliver’s thoughts were now centered on how easy it felt to be himself with Aurora. This is what I needed, he thought. A chance to just be. No cameras, no expectations, just us. I can’t remember the last time I felt this at ease with someone.
“So,” Oliver said, his voice softening as they reached the pub’s entrance, “what’s your plan for the rest of the week? Besides settling into your new role with the Cannons, I mean.”
Aurora looked up at him, her expression thoughtful. “Honestly, I haven’t really had a chance to think about it. I’ve been so focused on the new job and everything that’s been happening lately.”
Oliver nodded, his gaze steady and warm. “It sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate. Maybe we should make the most of tonight then.”
Aurora tilted her head, making eye contact, a curious smile on her lips. “What did you have in mind?”
He looked at her, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something softer, more sincere. “I was thinking... maybe we could continue our day with something a bit less... chaotic. Just us and a chance to relax without any headlines or pranks.”
Aurora’s heart skipped a beat at his words. She searched his face, finding a depth in his gaze that matched the sincerity in his voice. The tension between them felt almost palpable, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.
Before she could respond, Oliver moved closer, their bodies almost touching. The space between them seemed to shrink as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. Oliver could feel his breath catch in his throat, the moment stretching out in an almost electric stillness.
In a gesture that felt both intimate and vulnerable, Oliver leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Their lips hadn’t even brushed when Aurora pulled back slightly, her smile faltering.
“I... I can’t,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I really need to go.”
Oliver’s expression shifted to one of surprise and disappointment. “Aurora, I’m sorry if I misread things.”
Aurora stood up abruptly, the distance between them now a sharp contrast to the closeness they had just shared. “I have an early start tomorrow and a lot to prepare for. I’m sorry.”
Oliver nodded, trying to mask his own disappointment. “No problem.”
As Aurora walked away, Oliver placed his arms on the table and rested his head in them, feeling a wave of frustration and self-reproach. The evening had started so well, and now he was left feeling like an idiot, questioning where things had gone wrong. The quiet of the pub, now seeming much colder and emptier, mirrored his own internal turmoil.