"GO, HARRY, GO!" OLIVE'S ENTHUSIASTIC SHOUTS echoed through the air as Harry whizzed past the populated Gryffindor stands, his broom leaving a trail of magic behind him. Olive's heart thumped with excitement, her cheers mixing with the rest of the crowd's. "Woo-hoo!" she hollered, her voice brimming with pride and adoration. Today, Gryffindor was battling it out against Hufflepuff in an exhilarating Quidditch match.

Olive had always found the games against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw particularly enjoyable. Unlike the bitter rivalry that characterized Gryffindor's matches against Slytherin, these games felt like an actual sporting event – a true demonstration of skill, strategy, and teamwork, rather than a contest to prove which house was superior.

A sudden voice interrupted Olive's thoughts. "Olive!" Dean's voice carried across the stands, his hand pointing in her direction. "Your hood!" he yelled, indicating the rain-soaked hair plastered to Olive's face. Her raincoat hood had fallen off, leaving her exposed to the elements.

Surprised, Olive quickly reached up, her fingers grasping the edges of her hood. But then, she paused. "Oh, forget it! My hair's already wet!" she declared, tossing her head defiantly. Her declaration was met with peals of laughter from Dean and Seamus, their mirth adding to the lively atmosphere of the game. Turning to Neville, Olive raised her voice to be heard over the cheering crowd. "You okay?" she yelled, leaning closer to him to hear his response.

"I'm bloody freezing! But other than that, I'm having a great time!" Neville's response was nearly drowned out by the noise around them, but Olive managed to catch his words, a laugh bubbling up from her chest.

She grimaced as she pushed her wet hair back, disliking the clammy feeling of soaked strands sticking to her skin. But her expression soon transformed into a wide grin, her focus returning to the thrilling game. But then, something caught her eye, something that made her blood run cold. "Oh my Godric!" Olive screamed in horror as she saw Harry hurtling towards the ground.

Neville's eyes widened in shock, and without thinking, he reached out for Olive, pulling her close. He held her face against his chest, wanting to shield her from the sight of Harry's perilous fall.

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"Do you think he'll be alright?" Olive asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at the group huddled around Harry, who lay unconscious in a sterile hospital bed.

"He'll be alright, Liv." George reassured her, reaching forward to place his hand comfortingly on Olive's shoulder. His voice was steady, a solid rock in the midst of the storm.

They sat there, in a heavy silence, each lost in their own thoughts and fears, patiently waiting for Harry to wake up. The silence was deafening, a stark reminder of the reality they were facing, before Ron finally broke it. "He looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?" Ron asked, his voice a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Peaky," Fred echoed, mocking his younger brother with a raised eyebrow. "What'd you expect? He fell over a hundred feet."

"Yeah, Ron," George chimed in, agreeing with his twin. "Let's walk you off the astronomy tower and see what you look like."

"Alright, enough." Olive interjected, shaking her head at the twins' jest before turning her gaze back to Harry, her eyes filled with worry.

"Probably a right sight better than he normally does," Harry spoke finally, his voice weak yet filled with his usual humor. Olive let out a sigh of relief before a small, tentative smile graced her face.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione questioned as Harry sat up.

"Oh, brilliant." Harry replied, trying to sound upbeat and succeeding to an extent.

"You gave us a good scare there." Olive admonished gently, shaking her head before walking over to the boy and giving him a short yet comforting hug. "You're sure you're alright?"

"I'm alright, Liv." Olive nodded in acceptance of his response before taking a seat at the end of the hospital bed. "What happened?"

"Well, you fell off your broom," Ron stated matter-of-factly, causing Harry to roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Really?" Harry questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I meant the match. Who won?"

"Um," Hermione started apprehensively as she stood up. "No one blames you, Harry. The dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds."

"Dumbledore was furious." Olive shook her head in agreement with Hermione's statement, making Hermione nod in return. "As soon as he saved you, he sent them straight off."

"There, uh," Ron began, swallowing hard. "Something else you should know, Harry. When you fell, your broom sort of blew into the Whomping Willow and..." Ron unwrapped Harry's broom, revealing the shattered pieces. "Well..."

Olive saw the pained expression on Harry's face and quickly changed the subject, "You were amazing while the game was still in play! It's brilliant how you can stay on your broom while going so fast." Olive chuckled. "I could never." The room filled with a few chuckles, making Olive grin as she felt the tension in the room dissipate.

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"You guys interested in coming to my dorm?" Olive inquired, her eyes scanning over Neville and Seamus, as they all exited the Hospital Wing. "I'm pretty sure that Lavender and the twins are probably out and about. And of course, Hermione is going to be at Harry's side while he's recuperating."

"Sure," Neville responded with a warm smile, while Seamus expressed his agreement with a nod. "Do you have any new...uh..." Neville shot a glance at Seamus, hoping his friend would catch on to what he was trying to say. "Any new...um..."

"Any new what?" Olive's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she halted in her tracks, turning her gaze towards the boys.

"Those things that play music," Neville finally managed to express, causing Olive's eyebrows to furrow even deeper. "You know, those black disks that you put on that machine?"

"Do you mean records and a record player?" Seamus interjected, bringing an expression of relief on Neville's face.

"Yeah! Do you have any new records?" Neville reiterated his question as the group resumed their walk.

"Sadly I don't" Olive shook her head with a slight smile. "But I did bring my Metallica record with me this year!"

"I think that's what he was hinting at, Liv." Seamus shook his head as laughter escaped his lips. "He was asking if you have any records that he hasn't heard yet."

"Oh! Oh." Olive chuckled shyly, a light blush creeping up her cheeks. "In that case, yes, I have a few new ones." Neville's face lit up with a grin as they halted in front of the common room painting. "Hi, Lady!" Olive greeted warmly.

"Hello, dear." The Fat Lady responded with a grin, her painted eyes landing on Olive. "You look lovely today, Olive." The young girl blushed even more at the compliment before shaking her head.

"I'm just wearing my everyday clothes, ma'am." Olive responded modestly, a shy smile on her lips. "But, you. You look absolutely stunning today."

"Thank you." The painting responded with a smile, before Seamus let out a loud, impatient groan.

"Flibbertigibbet," Seamus addressed the painting, which swung open, granting them entry into the common room.

"That was rude!" Olive scolded, playfully smacking Seamus's shoulder. "I was having a conversation with her!"

"And you were taking forever!" Seamus retorted, an amused smirk on his face.

"I was only talking to her for a few seconds, you dickhead!" Olive scoffed as they ventured further into the common room.

"Dickhead? I'm a dickhead?" Seamus's eyes narrowed at Olive, just as the sound of Dean's voice filled the room around them.

"Alright. Alright." Dean interjected with a chuckle as he made his way over to his friends. "Let's not say things we'll regret later."

"But she just called me a dickhead!" Seamus whined, causing Olive to roll her eyes at his childish tantrum. "Roll your eyes one more time and I'll-"

"You'll what?" Olive challenged, a defiant glint in her eyes. "You'll do what, Seamus?" The two locked eyes for a moment before Olive let out a shriek as Seamus darted towards her. "No! I take it back! I take it back!" She screeched, her laughter echoing in the room as she ran, with Seamus hot on her heels. "Seamus, please!" Olive came to a sudden halt, throwing up her hands in surrender.

"Fine." Seamus responded with a smile that was too sweet to be genuine, causing Olive's eyes to widen in surprise.

"Seamus..." Olive barely managed to utter his name before an 'oomph' sound escaped her lips as Seamus tackled her onto the couch, landing on top of her. "Please! I said I take it back!" Olive screamed in between fits of laughter as Seamus tickled her sides mercilessly. "Stop! Please! I beg of you!" Olive pleaded as she attempted to wriggle away from her friend. "Dee! Bug! Help me! Please!" Olive looked over to Dean and Neville, who were doubled over with laughter, watching the chaotic scene unfold.

"You got yourself into this mess!" Neville pointed out, causing Olive to gasp in disbelief.

"You're a traitor, Neville Longbottom! A traitor!" Olive yelled, still struggling to escape Seamus's relentless tickling.

"Wow, I always thought it would be Neville and Olive who ended up together." The voice of George brought Seamus's tickling attack to a sudden halt. "Never thought it'd be these two."

"Me neither." Fred shook his head in agreement as Seamus made a face of disgust and got off Olive, who quickly scrambled to her feet.

"How dare you assume I'd go out with her." Seamus scoffed as he fixed his clothes, causing Olive to whip her head around to glare at him.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Olive demanded, clearly offended. "Am I not good enough for you?"

"Not really," Seamus shrugged nonchalantly. "You're too sensitive for my taste. Look at how you just blew up because I interrupted your conversation with the painting."

"Oh, you absolute tosser!" Olive exclaimed as she charged towards Seamus, who immediately bolted away from her.

"Oh, great!" Neville exclaimed as he, Dean, and the twins watched the chase ensue. "Look at what you two just started!"

"What?" Fred asked with a smirk, his gaze landing on the younger boy. "Is Neville Longbottom-"

"Jealous?" George finished for him.

Neville scoffed dismissively, "Absolutely not." He shook his head, denying any such feelings.

"Then why are your cheeks turning red?" Dean queried, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"They are not red!"

"Go look in a mirror!"