Charlie laughed. He knew Oliver was always the man for animals. Not as much as the redhead, for sure, but everyone has their own level of admiration for creatures. At the mention of the dead mice, the man smirked and nodded.
"I don't know how much time you think I have for lady friends, I can't remember the last time my house was graced by a woman."
It was sad but true. The only time he saw any women was in town and at home. In town, he barely had the energy to get the food he needed from the store and home it was old people and married women. Slim pickings. But he raised his drink to Oliver's toast and muttered, "Arse."
"So how has your luck been with the ladies. You sweeping them off their feet with your sexy talk of...Quidditch?"