Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, and I don't. Even if I said that I did, I doubt anyone would believe I was JK Rowling and I'd be wasting both your time and mine. So you know the bit, JK Rowling owns the HP World, I just made this plot idea
Author's Note: This ficlet came to me around 1 in the morning a month ago and I stayed up writing it for an hour or so. It's my first actual fanfic that I've ever posted, so if you've got 15 minutes to spare, I'd love it if you read this. If you like it, review it. If you don't like it, still review it. This is your warning: If you don't like Slash, please don't criticize my work. Just don't read it. Merci and onwards


I had always rolled my eyes and turned my nose up at the Harry Potter fan girls that followed Harry around Hogwarts. Watching him, staring at him, even stalking him. But yet, here I was doing the very thing that I loathed most about every girl in the school. He was casually standing outside his classroom door, waiting for one his friends after the dinner bell had rung. He hadn't noticed me standing down the hall, peering behind the door of an empty room. Even from the twenty-foot distance that lay between us, you could tell something was on his mind, eating away at him. He hadn't spoken a word, but his eyes showed all. The emerald windows, as I secretly called them. He was giving out a troubled glare, a secret that was raging inside that wanting to be let out. How I wished he would tell me, but that would never be the case. We only ever talked about Quidditch, if we ever talked at all and it was always I who did the talking. When I tried to make conversation, it was as if he was forcing himself to respond and it hurt. Harry was never at ease around me, like he was around his friends. How many hours I've spent envying them, wishing to be Hermione or Ron, to be in their shoes, just to get a chance to talk to him about something besides Quidditch. And he would look in my eyes and say my name.

He had never done that.

Even during practices when I would be yelling out orders, he still couldn't bear to even glance in my direction. Always darting his eyes in opposite directions because he couldn't stand that sight of me. And now here he was having a blasted staring contest with the floor for the past three minutes. It's the worst at times when you would rather switch positions with the ancient, stoned tiles than stay with the miserable, lusting sole that you possess.

The emerald windows had flickered to his watch and then at the door as impatience was scribbled across his face. The corridor had been clear, except for the occasional student running to the great hall for supper. The silence in the air was deafening against the ears, as the temptation towards Harry grew each second from my hiding space.

I wasn't even quite sure why I was there in the first place. I remember walking out of my N.E.W.T. Charms class, when a thought came across my head on how Harry's classroom was just down the hall from mine and what it would be like if we ran into each other 'unexpectedly '. Pretending to have forgotten something in the classroom, I waited in the classroom while keeping a keen eye on the door for a certain third-year. He hadn't walked by yet, so I waited. Promising Flitwick to shut the door off on the way out as he left, I keep my stance at the door, as I acted to copy the notes from the board. That was nearly twenty minutes ago, and I'm still here watching for any sign of movement from the Seeker.

Then I had thought; what would I do if he did leave and come down here? I mean, what was my intention in the first place? Would I ironically be coming out my class at the exact same time as Harry and persuade him into a conversation, one that was away from quidditch for once? It would be a stepping-stone in our sad relationship. Would I just watch him leave and follow behind him and keep a safe distance between us? And what if he came out with his friend who he had been waiting for? That would be the likely scenario. I would be a third wheel if I tried to put the 'coming out of the classrooms at the same time' plan into action. And telling him my true feelings would be out. But this will likely be the last chance that I'll get to tell him how I feel. I had finally chosen an idea of leaving right now, still allowing me to save my dignity, call out a casual 'hello, and go on with my pathetic life.

Gathering my belongings and planning to leave right away, I heard an echo in the hall. Rushing to the door, I saw Harry standing up and he had the same idea as I. Looking at his watch one last time, he began walking down the hall towards the classroom. My palms became sweaty in an instant and I began pacing one the spot like a chicken with its head cut off. I could feel the pressure off his feet, pounding on the tiles, as he was mere meters away from the door of which I cowardly stood my guard.

And then I saw him. It was as if time had slowed down for a second or two. There he was, walking past the frame of the door. He looked almost angelic so up close and untouchable. It's like when you see a famous painting in magazines, on shirts, printed over coffee mugs, and when you see it in person for the first time, its so surreal and as if it's not actually there. That was Harry at that moment. He was only a foot in front of me, but the feeling of him being so close didn't really have a feeling at all. He was so close that I could've grabbed him if I wanted to. And that’s when it happened.

To this day, I'm not really sure what had made me do it but I felt myself coming away from my hiding spot and grabbing Harry into the classroom. He had no idea what was going on and frankly, neither did I. I hadn't prepared what to do next; I didn't have any speech as to what to say to him. The lights were off in the classroom and he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dark. His face of confusion and terror turned calm, to much of my enjoyment as he looked at me.
"Oh, Hey Wood. You kind of scared me for a second there, I didn't know who you were."

He quickly looked away from me as I felt my heart miss a few beats. I didn't know how to react but luckily he started talking again.

"Listen, I'm sorry I haven't been working really hard at practices lately. I know! Big game coming up and I still haven't gotten that seeker move down yet, but I've been really busy with my potions work."

I was mesmerized by his gorgeous facial features to even listen. My mouth hung open stupidly for a moment before my brain comprehended and began working again.

"Oh Yeah, no, It's okay. No problem. I mean...well no....wait.... That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Even through the darkness you could see his curiosity through his eyes and his cheeks turn a slight crimson. He bit him lip and merely nodded as I began.

"Well, I have...I mean that... It started…you see...umm, well.... Are you excited for the final game next Saturday?"

Again, Quidditch. The safe zone.

Probably to my imagination, he expressed disappointment but covered it up with furrowing his brow.

"Oh, uhh yeah I guess I am. And, uhh, what about you?"

"Oh, yeah, me too. It's the finals and all. I've been dreaming about this day for a long time. We're definitely going to get the Cup this year. With the hard work, practices, dedication and especially since we have you."

I hadn't meant to emphasize the 'you' and I think he noticed. Harry blushed, and gave a small grin as he looked down at the floor. We stood there in silence but Harry broke the tension, “Well, I’d better getting going…dinner.”

He turned on the spot and walked towards the door. For the second time that evening, my hand had grabbed his arm, as he immediately reacted and stopped. “Harry wait. Look,”

He turned around and for the first time, he started at my straight into the eye. My body froze and I could no longer have any feeling or desire, except to stare into those eyes. Standing there motionless, searching desperately into the emerald windows to find out what he was thinking. They were occupied with desperation, hoping for me to say something, something that I couldn’t quite interpret.

I paused and thought of all the good that could come out of this, and all the bad that comes with it. Sighing, I held out my hand as three small words slipped through my mouth.

“Good luck, Harry.”

He looked at me, momentarily dumbfounded, but he quickly hid it as his eyes dropped to the floor and formally accepted my hand. “ You too, Oliver.”

Harry walked out of the classroom and his footsteps disappeared from the hallway. I felt numbness twisted inside of me cruelly. Tears began to form and started rolling down my face as I convinced myself that he wouldn’t have understood anyways. Whispering to the bitter silence of the room, I spoke, “ I like you Harry, I always have. I’ve been meaning to tell you since the first time I saw you two years ago. Could you ever forgive me?”

*

Each of my footsteps felt like a blow to my stomach, rushing down the hallway to get away from my troubles. Turning the corner to another empty hallway, I feel to my knees. How could I have been so stupid to think that he was going to say what I had been hoping for that would come out of his mouth. But he doesn’t feel the same way, he never would. I felt my eyes begin to fill up with tears as I whispered to the bitter, humming silence of the hallway, “ I like you Oliver, I always have. I’ve been meaning to tell you since the first time I saw you two years ago. Could you ever forgive me?”

-Fin-