If he hadn't been so focused on the task at hand - and he had never been so focused on anything written down in his life - Oliver might have been distracted by the smile she'd beamed at him before getting to work.
He wasn't finding anything of interest, and ran over as soon as she'd called his name. Captivating Keepers. "That's a big assumption you're making about me, Goldilocks," said Oliver, though he opened the book at the index to look for his name. Could he be a captivating Keeper? Could he hope for so much? Come on, come on, come on, and then;
Wood, Oliver -- p.378-389
Merlin, that wasn't much in a book that size. But then, Oliver wondered, how many years did it span? They still had eleven pages dedicated to him - a whole eleven pages dedicated to just him...
He was in the book! That was already a good start!
Flipping through to page 378, Oliver put the book down so that Tonks could read over his shoulder.
He also didn't think he'd ever read anything so fast; he wasn't sure he would remember any of it for more than ten seconds, but then his eyes alighted on that year, that beautiful year.
--Keeper for Puddlemere United until 2019, one of the oldest starting Keepers in Quidditch history--
The breath he'd been holding left him in a rush. "Nineteen years. I play for another nineteen years." Oliver couldn't even muster a smile yet, stuck on that number. He had nineteen whole years of Quidditch ahead of him.