You stand outside a small coffee shop in Hogsmeade, waiting for your date to arrive. The crisp fall air is chilly, and your gaze remains fixed on the cobblestone street, hoping to spot a familiar face.

You check your watch for the third time, a knot of anxious anticipation forming in your chest. You had agreed to meet Oliver here at noon, but it’s already past one.

Minutes pass and there’s no sign of Oliver. You check your watch one final time, the reality of the situation sinking in. Oliver isn’t coming, and you’re certainly not going to stand here all day waiting for a man who can’t even be bothered to show up for a simple lunch date.

With a deep breath, you turn and begin walking away from the cafe, the cold air doing nothing to cool your temper.

Your thoughts a whirlwind of anger and disappointment as you make your way back to Hogwarts. You had been looking forward to spending time with Oliver, but now the only thing you can think about is how he could have forgotten about your date.

By the time you reach the common room, you’re in a terrible mood. You mutter the password and push open the portrait to the common room with more force than necessary, your anger still simmering just below the surface.

As you enter, your gaze immediately lands on a figure standing in the middle of the common room. It’s Oliver, dressed in his quidditch robes and covered in a layer of sweat.

You cross your arms over your chest, your frustration reaching a boiling point. "You've got some explaining to do"

"Calm down" Oliver says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I was just practicing quidditch. I lost track of time, that's all."

Your eyes narrow at his words, the anger still coursing through you. "Practicing quidditch?" you ask. "You stood me up for practice?!"

Oliver hesitates for a moment before nodding sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I did. But it was important practice, you know?" He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, clearly trying to downplay the situation.