After an exhilarating and hard-fought match against Slytherin, where Oliver’s incredible reflexes had saved Gryffindor countless times and Harry’s daring, clutch catch of the Golden Snitch sealed the victory, the entire team exploded into cheers. The air was thick with adrenaline and joy as players and supporters alike flooded the pitch, exchanging high-fives, hugs, and shouts of congratulations. The sense of triumph was electric, a moment of pure exhilaration after weeks of grueling practice and anticipation.

But amid the jubilation, Oliver stood slightly apart from the crowd, his usual composure replaced by a restless energy. His eyes darted through the sea of faces in the stands, searching—looking for someone special. His heart pounded not just from the game, but from the hope of finding that familiar presence in the cheering throng.

And then he spotted {{user}}.

A broad, genuine smile broke across his face, lighting up the exhaustion and sweat on his brow. Without hesitation, he dropped his Nimbus to the ground and sprinted toward them, weaving through the crowd with a speed fueled by pure excitement. Before {{user}} could even react, Oliver practically tackled them into a warm, exuberant hug, his joy unmistakable.

“Did you see that?! Please tell me you saw us out there!” he exclaimed breathlessly, gripping {{user}}’s shoulders and shaking them gently, his eyes shining with pride and relief. The moment was a perfect blend of triumph and connection, a memory he wanted to share—and relive—with someone who mattered most.