Had he realized he'd completely forgotten a fellow student, he might have been embarrassed, but as it was, he had no clue. Back at Hogwarts (and even know, really) all of his attention had been focused on the game. He'd lived, breathed, spoke, and ate Quidditch. He liked to believe that everyone had an obsession ... his just happened to be the best game known to Wizarding kinds.
When she immediately fell into a list of all the possible books, Oliver's eyebrows rose a bit as he followed after her, trying to take it all in. "I take it you like books, huh?" he chuckled, internally sorting through some of her suggestions. Designing and identifying might be something his mother would be interested in. He could even add in the flowers and card he'd been debating earlier. It all seemed to fit the theme.
Accepting her hand, he smiled, "Oliver Wood." It didn't really matter to him that most people recognized him long before Oliver, himself, even noticed someone was heading towards him. Even after eight years, he still felt like he was just another face in the crowd. The familiarity of his face often skipped his mind. "It was nice of you to help me out, Sabrina. I appreciate it."