Natalie smiled when she saw Oliver approaching her, biting down on her bottom lip at the way his hair moved in the wind and how remarkably Adonis he looked with the sun shining on him that way. She really was a slut for the pretty people, she realised.
But then he tossed her a bloody quaffle, and she just barely managed to catch it without falling off her broom.
"I said I could fly, not play quidditch," she said, her heart still pounding from the way she'd wobbled on the broom just a moment ago.
She pulled in a couple of breaths to calm herself down and then moved towards the goal posts, not used to flying while holding something at the same time.