Oliver had been itching for an opportunity to be useful. Truth be told, he had thought of very few things over the last few weeks but the fly over. So many weeks had past since he had finally added his name to the scroll pledging himself to Dumbledore's Army, and he had little to show for it but the pain of seeing his friends and those he cares about hurt or killed by the Death Eaters. They continued to grow in strength, numbers and confidence. Oliver knew that what they did not was important; even one fewer DE was a step in the right direction. Plus, he knew that once one was caught, they would be able to get more information to find out what their big picture plan was. Voldemort is dead, what could they want?
The city flew by beneath him, the familiar feeling of exhilaration that came over Oliver every time he stepped on his Cleansweep washed over him, bolstering his strength and adrenaline. He WOULD find a DE. There was no other option.