max // oliver
It took Max a moment to realise what Oliver was even asking about, because the answer was so obvious to Max that he couldn’t believe even someone like Oliver would need to ask. “Of course,” he said confidently. Max had never broken up with anyone. He’d only ever been with Siobhan, and there had been no question in his mind even when she’d had to go away with her dance troupe that the right thing was to stay with her. “You can’t change it by being miserable about it.” Those were definitely words Max had picked up from someone else, though he didn’t really know who.
“I see.” Max frowned. Obviously, he didn’t support discrimination, against anyone, but LGBT-whatever rights in quidditch seemed an incredibly frivolous thing to be worrying about, especially when Oliver went on to say the British League didn’t have much issue. “Aren’t there more important causes to support?” he asked. “People who actually need to have funds raised for them?” He shook his head, keeping his expression clear even as he marvelled that anyone could think undressing in front of cameras was easy. “I suppose you’re used to it,” he said, not looking at Oliver. Oliver was, after all, a quidditch player and Max knew from personal experience how little certain people bothered to cover up in the changing rooms. (He’d always wondered if it was different in other houses, where there was usually at least one girl on the team.)