Oliver raised his eyebrows. "You make this all sound so cosy and homey. You do remember that the wee babies we're talking about have big, leathery wings and do that whole breathing fire thing?" It sounded like an even madder job to have, now that Oliver pointed it out loudly. On the other hand, he spent his time catching Quaffles that were thrown hard enough to bruise him through the protective gear. Not to mention the Bludgers or general fouls.
Oliver sighed and resigned himself that Charlie and he seemed to share a fatal addiction to adrenaline. Either that, or they were both really, really stupid.
He raised his glass again. "Here's to raising little, fire-breathing monsters."