Oliver was one of those Scottish wizards who had decided to do his shopping at Hogwarts, albeit it had had nothing to do with the return to Hogwarts and much more to do with the fact that his parents' house was close by and he was visiting. Of course, visiting ones parents never really quite was 'visiting', as Oliver constantly let himself forget until being sent out on yet another errand. It didn't matter that he was far away from being a child, his parents certainly still felt that they were allowed to boss him around. There were unfortunate side effects of having your dad having spent all of his career being a Quidditch trainer and your mum having lead teams before. They were both incredibly bossy and Oliver's Quidditch-based side (so most of him) felt the need to follow orders without questioning them.
Which is why he was in Hogsmeade on a Friday afternoon, with a long list of shopping he had to pick up and a bunch of parcels that had to be sent off to his siblings. Because, of course, 20 somethings needed care packages from their parents. Dispatched by their older brother. Well. Technically there was a parcel for Oliver, too, but he had no intention to pay for posting that, it seemed a bit excessive.
Having had a reasonable experiene with the post office in Hogsmeade, Oliver had come prepared. The Hogsmeade owls were notorious for being... well, shit. They never did what you wanted and no one could control them. Unless you had the secret weapon. Which wasn't actually secret because it was well promoted to anyone who had to use the post office regularly. Chocolate. You'd think that it might kill them, which is probably how they were originally introduced to it, but as it turned out, it was motivational. And marginally fattening, which is probably why the Hogsmeade owls were also notorious for being slow as all hell in their deliveries. Obese flying was hard.
The post office wasn't as busy as Oliver had expected it to be but it'd still take time. Not that he didn't have time to spare. He just didn't want to. Before he could join any queue, however, Oliver noticed a young woman having a what appeared to be a staring competition with an owl. A fat, fat owl.
"You have to bribe them," he informed the girl, before reaching in one of his many bags and pulling out a piece of chocolate. It appeared that the owl's eyes light up in delight. It could have also been constipation. Hard to tell, really. "Here," Oliver said showing the piece into the owl's face. It started munching before he had even pulled his finger back. Pulling out some more chocolate, Oliver offered it to the girl. "You might need more, this one seems to be on a well established track to becoming a delivery feather ball instead of an owl," he added with a small smile.