The tight lid Oliver had kept on his emotions trembled a little. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't let it out. He just couldn't. Not here, not now.
Except, unfortunately, he was having no luck whatsoever with his impulse control lately. It didn't help that his ever-active mind chose that moment to remind him of his incident in the shower. At that moment, any thought he had of control flew straight out of the window.
As it had in the pub, Oliver raised his hand and poked a finger in Harry's chest. He tried to keep his voice low, but the menace was in there just the same. "You don't know a bloody fucking thing about me, Potter, so kindly leave off thinking you do. I've lost my fair share, thank you, and just because it's not been splashed through the papers it doesn't make the loss any less real. Or devastating."