Hogwarts at Christmas was always beautiful, but this year felt different. Maybe it was because you weren’t walking through the snow alone. Maybe it was because your fingers were wrapped in Oliver Wood’s gloved hand, the two of you slipping away from the noisy Great Hall after dinner, leaving behind the chatter, the floating ornaments, and Fred and George loudly debating whether they could enchant mistletoe to chase people.

Oliver tugged gently, leading you through the courtyard. Snow dusted his hair and the shoulders of his coat, and he kept giving you these quiet, secret smiles he only ever showed when no one else was around.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your knuckles.

“You dragged me outside,” you teased.

He huffed. “Only because I wanted time with you before everyone gets loud again.”

“Everyone’s always loud. It’s Hogwarts.”

“Yes, but they’re louder on holidays,” he argued, leaning slightly closer. “How am I meant to enjoy Christmas with my girlfriend if she’s being stolen every five seconds?”

You lifted a brow. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely.” His honesty made you laugh, and his smile softened further. “Have you met your fan club? I am absolutely not sharing you today.”