Chapter 7: Quidditch Captains
I sat with Percy on the way back to Hogwarts. He was still depressed about breaking up with Penelope. He said that they mutually decided to break up because Penelope felt like she needed more space. I listened sympathetically. I was happy, though. I had Percy back. As mad as I was at him for ditching me for months, I forgave him because I needed him. I still needed him.
When school started again, the teachers were all placing their emphasis on preparing us for the N.E.W.T.s. It was… well… nauseatingly exhausting. I spent most of my spare time with Percy in the library, studying.
Really, I spent most of my time with Percy. Everything was going back to how it was before Percy and Penelope started dating. Percy and I were best friends again. I was really happy, for a while. Until I realized that I missed my other friends.
Percy and Oliver were fighting more than they ever had. They wouldn't just ignore each other anymore. They would go out of their way to start something. But now, I wasn't on Percy's side. Or Oliver's side. No, now I was trying to play the role of the peacemaker. If studying for N.E.W.T.s was nauseatingly exhausting, trying to keep the peace between two of my friends was impossibly grueling.
I usually spent about half an hour with the rest of the Seventh Years while Percy got ready for bed. He went to bed earlier than most of us did.
"Why do you put up with that bloody idiot?" Oliver asked one night, a few days into February.
I rubbed my temples. "You two give me the worst headaches," I muttered.
"He left you alone for over a year, and you automatically just welcomed—"
I interrupted him by holding up my hand. "I'm tired, Oliver. Just… give it a rest for tonight, OK?"
Oliver didn't answer. He just stood up and left.
I looked over at the rest of the Seventh Years and smiled a little. "I can't put up with them for much longer."
"Maybe you should talk to him," Joan said. "He seemed a little… mad."
I sighed but stood up. "All right."
I walked out of the Common Room and turned to the Fat Lady.
"Do you know where Oliver went?"
"That way," the Fat Lady said, pointing to her left.
"Thanks." I turned, relieved. At least he didn't go the other way. The left part of the hallway led to a short hallway with two dead ends. I walked down to the little hall and saw Oliver looking out the window on my left. I walked up behind him.
"I'm sorry I cut you off. Go ahead and say what you need to."
Oliver shook his head.
"I'm trying, Oliver." I sighed again. "The truth is… I've never been able to be a good friend to you both."
"Percy always seems to get the better deal," he said, blandly. He smiled a little at me.
I grinned back. "I'm sorry." I walked up next to him to look out the window, too. There was a full moon shining wonderfully on the lake. It was beautiful.
"I miss you," I whispered. "All of you," I added quickly. I blushed. Hadn't I been planning on saying 'all of you' to begin with?
"So you ignore us," Wood said, shaking his head.
"What am I supposed to do? Tell Percy that I'm going to spend some time with my other friends? Leave him alone? Haven't I done that one too many times? I'm trying to learn. And the two of you fight so badly, I can't spend time with you both."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both," I admitted.
"What about Joan?" Oliver asked, quickly. "She took you under her wing, and when you didn't need her anymore, you left."
"She doesn't need me either," I said, looking down at my hands, which were resting on the window sill.
"But she misses you. We all do."
I moved my thumbs around each other slowly. "If you would only apologize—"
"Not again… do you ever ask him to—"
"You know as well as I do that he would never make the first move at becoming friends—"
"Then why should I?" Oliver asked, bitterly.
"So it can be like it was," I said, looking up at him.
Oliver didn't answer. He kept looking out the window, angrily.
I sighed. "I'll spend more time with you guys."
"If you want to be with Percy, then—"
"I want to be with you," I interrupted. I blushed again. I put a hand up to my forehead to check my temperature, knowing that I was fine. "You know what I meant," I muttered.
Oliver didn't say anything for a few minutes, so I tried to explain what I was thinking.
"You know… the last time I was really happy was when we were all first and second years. Maybe for a few weeks the summer before our fourth year, too, but… never mind. Even though we were technically competing over Percy all of the time, you were still my friend, Oliver. Maybe that's why I took Percy's side. I could win the competition. I wish I hadn't, now. You know I'm sorry about what happened. I know you know that. I know you're sorry, too. Now you can end it. After five years, you can end it. We can just be three equal friends."
He looked down at me kindly and my stomach dropped. Don't make things more complicated, I told myself sternly.
And I knew that it was too late for us to be three equal friends. I didn't need Oliver to know it. I certainly didn't need Percy to know it. I could deal with it. It didn't matter. It would go away.
"I won't apologize," he said. "But I'll try to stop fighting with him so much. You know… for your sake. Because I rather enjoy arguing with him."
I laughed. "I know what you mean. I kind of enjoy arguing with him, too. And you, for that matter."
He looked down at me, and I scared myself again. I nodded and walked away quickly, saying something about homework and sleeping. I went upstairs and talked myself into believing that nothing had changed since… since… hell, since when didn't matter. Nothing had changed since whenever.
I did start spending more time with the rest of the Seventh Years. Percy didn't seem to care much. While this did hurt a little, it was almost a relief, as it made things easier. I still spent more time with Percy than I did with my other friends, but I spent enough time with them that it was normal when I was with them, and not forced as it had been when I had spent less than an hour a day with them.
Around the beginning of March, I got bored studying with Percy and decided to go look for other people.
"I'm going to go outside. I'm getting cabin fever," I said.
"Yeah, OK," Percy said, distracted by his studying and dreams of receiving enough N.E.W.T.s to put him in a good position at the Ministry.
I went out to the front steps and looked around the grounds. There were people sitting around on the grass near the lake. Mainly first and second years. The older students on the grounds were studying. I didn't want to do more of that.
I decided to go to the Quidditch pitch. Gryffindor was still in the running for the Quidditch Cup, and Oliver spent any free time he had trying to figure out how they were going to win it. I worried that he was neglecting his studies, but he assured me that he was studying more than I thought he was.
Sure enough, Oliver was flying idly around the goals on the other side of the field from where I'd come in. He seemed to be deep in though. I walked across the grass. He noticed me when I got a little past half way to him.
He flew over and landed right in front of me, smiling. "Hey," he said. "Something wrong?"
"No. I just got tired of memorizing Potions ingredients from potions we haven't done since we were First Years. How are your plans going?"
"We're going to win that Cup," Oliver said.
I nodded. "I hope you do."
"Why? You couldn't care less about Quidditch," Oliver said, walking with me towards the locker rooms.
"True, but I want Gryffindor to do well in everything, and I want you to do well, too. I know how much the Cup means to you."
He nodded.
"Don't worry. I have no doubts that you'll win it this year."
He loosened up again. "Thanks." We kept walking in silence for several seconds. "There's something I want to show you."
"OK. Where is it?" I asked.
"The locker room. Kind of, anyway. You'll see."
I'd never been in the locker rooms before. Gryffindor's was rather dull, but comfortable. Oliver walked up next to a chalkboard with some X's and O's drawn onto it. He pulled it out away from the wall on one side.
"It's through here," he said, motioning behind the chalkboard.
"Through where? The wall?" I asked.
He smiled. "Why do you look surprised? This is Hogwarts' Quidditch stadium, isn't it?"
"It's through the wall?" I asked again.
He nodded, turned, walked behind the chalkboard and disappeared.
I hurried over to look. I was feeling along the wall when his hand shot out and pulled me through. I hit another wall about two feet past the one I'd just gone through. It didn't hurt much, since right after pulling me through the wall, Oliver pushed me back a little.
"People have heart attacks because of things like that," I said under my breath.
"Sorry," Oliver said, shortly.
I looked up. I couldn't see anything.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"In between the outer wall and what everyone assumes is the outer wall."
Suddenly I felt very claustrophobic, and, of course, I said so.
"Yeah, that's the drawback about this whole thing," Oliver agreed. "It's worth it. Trust me."
I sighed. "God help me, but I do."
He laughed. "Just keep walking towards your left. You can probably walk normally, but it will make the space seem smaller. If you walk sideways, there's more room on each side of you."
"OK," I said, following his voice. It was pitch black in the little space. I reached out and found his arm, so I grabbed his sleeve.
"Nervous?" Oliver asked.
"I can't see you. This way, I won't run into you," I said.
"You won't run into me."
"Not this way, I won't," I agreed.
He laughed again. "Well, it's about a fifteen minute walk. Your arm is going to get tired like that."
"Do you want me to let go of your cloak, Oliver?" I asked.
"More or less," he said.
"Fine," I said, more harshly than I meant it. I took my hand away from his arm.
About a minute later, he took my hand. I jumped a little. "I don't want to leave you too far behind in here," Oliver said.
I smiled, but he couldn't see that.
We kept walking for about ten to fifteen minutes. I didn't like the narrow walkway much, but I was thinking more about where we were going and holding Oliver's hand. Oliver stopped suddenly, with a muffled sound of pain. He had run into something and I had run into him right after that.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"It's OK. We're there."
I looked around quickly. "I don't see anything," I said after a few seconds.
"Because we haven't gone inside yet."
I could tell from the change in the air that Oliver opened a door. He stepped trough and pulled my arm gently so that I would follow. I felt him go behind me and shut the door again, but it was still too dark to see anything.
"Dan Weasley brought me here the year before he died. Charlie had brought him here first."
"Where are we?" I asked, patiently.
"I'll show you. Lumos."
Oliver's wand lit up and he raised the beam of light towards the ceiling. Not that I could see the ceiling. Sparkling things were blocking the view. It took me a few moments to realize what they were. There were hundreds of Golden Snitches flying around.
"Oh my," I whispered. "It's… amazing."
"Every year, the team captain of the house that wins the Quidditch Cup releases the Snitch from that year into this room. Then he or she shakes the Headmaster's hand, then the Deputy Headmaster's hand, and then the head of his house's hand, and then the hands of the other three heads of the houses."
I smiled. "Is that written down somewhere?"
"Yes, in Hogwarts, A History, but Dan told me first."
I felt strange… sad and happy about being in a place that Dan considered important enough to share with others. Was it ironic that Oliver was showing it to me? Maybe a little.
"But why are they here? I mean… why do they need new ones every year?"
"Well, the Golden Snitches can be injured and need to be replaced, but mainly it's so the Snitches don't develop biases."
"What?" I asked, laughing a little.
"No one's sure why, but enough of certain types of charms and spells seem to make inanimate things… conscious, in some sense of the word. Golden Snitches have so much magic in them, they're almost alive. Other things seem to be like that, as well. Fred and George said that they used to have an enchanted car, and Ron Weasley swears up and down that the car saved Potter and him from death. Personally, I think he dreamt it, but a car becoming… aware of itself and others is possible."
I didn't know what to say. I had never heard of this theory or whatever it was.
"Hogwarts probably has this consciousness, too," Oliver added.
"You're saying that Hogwarts can think?"
"Kind of, but it may be more accurate to say that Hogwarts can feel and acts out of its feelings."
"So the Golden Snitches start to feel certain ways towards certain houses, and they impact the outcomes of the games unless they're replaced frequently."
"Exactly," Oliver said, sounding relieved that he didn't have to explain it another way.
"I don't know how I feel about living inside of something that's… kind of human."
"I wouldn't call any of these things almost human. Maybe they're better than humans, in many ways. They don't think. They don't have logic. They do what they feel like doing. They're more free than humans will ever be."
I was surprised.
"You think about this a lot, don't you?" I asked. I was watching the places Oliver's wand lit up. The room was plain. The walls were smooth, but were only made up of gray bricks. The walls made the Snitches look even more beautiful than they already were.
"Yes," I do," Oliver said distractedly.
"Why'd you bring me here?"
"I know that you don't care about Quidditch, and I wanted you to see it in a way that you wouldn't see as stupid. Quidditch is more than people flying around on brooms, trying to score points, or, in my case, trying to prevent people from scoring points. It's more than a sport. It's… an art. A lifestyle. An obsession. It's me. I've always been able to count on Quidditch."
"I don't hate Quidditch," I said. "I've cared about too many people who see Quidditch like you do to hate it."
"Dan?" Oliver asked, almost in a whisper.
"Dan, and all of the Weasleys, and you, and, well, most of my friends, not that I… wait." I turned to look at Oliver. I could barely see him in the small amount of light that was coming towards us. "Why'd you ask about Dan specifically?" I said, trying not to let any emotion come through.
"I… I could be wrong, but… I figured it out. I think."
"Did the girls tell you?"
"The girls? You mean, Joan and Cedar and—"
"Yes," I said.
"No. They know?"
"They know what?" I asked.
"That you… you and Dan… I think. I don't know for sure," Oliver said at last.
"You figured it out," I said, quietly, more to myself than to him.
"It took a dream about him. I mean, I dreamt that he was the Quidditch captain again, and you were dating him in the dream. When I woke up, I started thinking about some of the things you've said and… how you're still really upset sometimes."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Why on Earth should you be sorry?" he asked, more kindly than he'd ever talked to me before.
"I'm sorry that it was so obvious. I'm sorry for some of the things I said to you. I'm sorry that he died, and I'm sorry that I never recognized the fact that you cared about him, too."
"It wasn't obvious. I… I never—"
"Thought about the possibility?" I laughed a little under my breath. "Neither did I until… even after… it wasn't until he died that I thought about there being a possibility that we could have been together. He was too old at the time. I was too young. I don't know. There was the age difference that we knew people wouldn't understand, and the age difference made us feel uncomfortable, too."
Oliver didn't say anything.
"I'm sorry again. You don't want to know about—"
"I do, though," Oliver interrupted. "I do want to know," he said in that kind voice again.
I nodded, slowly. "OK. I don't know where to start now, though. I was just… rambling."
"Did he know how you felt?" Oliver asked.
"I didn't even know how I felt. I still don't know how I felt. He knew that I liked him as more than a friend, yes."
"Did he… I don’t want to pry. I feel too nosey."
"Don't. I think it helps to talk about him, and there aren't many people I can talk to about him."
"Percy?"
"I've never talked to Percy about Dan since he died. Percy doesn't know about Dan and I."
"You never told him?" Oliver asked.
"I didn't want to hurt Percy any more than he was already hurting. So don't worry about prying. I trust you. I also trust you enough not to use anything I say against any Weasley. Meaning Percy. OK?"
"I wouldn't—"
"I wouldn't tell you if I didn't know that. I just want to make sure."
"I won't tell Percy anything you say." Oliver wasn't moving his wand around the room much now, so I lit my own. "Did he… feel the same way?"
"I don't know. We didn't talk about us much. I wish we would have, now, but at the time… I figured there would be enough time for everything to resolve itself. I figured we'd figure everything out when school started again."
I told Oliver about what Dan and I would talk about. I told him about how we would argue over most things we started out talking about. But, eventually, I had to get to the part that I needed to talk about.
"And you were there when he had his accident," Oliver said, very carefully.
I nodded, deciding whether I really wanted to tell him what I'd been telling myself for three years.
"It was my fault," I said, quietly, slowly.
"What?" Oliver asked, standing up. We had been leaning against the wall by the door, both of us using our wands to look at the Snitches flying.
I looked over at Oliver. He was looking at me, almost like he was scared.
"I was leaving that morning. I wanted to say goodbye to him, without his family there. Do you understand? I wanted to be able to talk to him and kiss him goodbye, but I couldn't do that with the Weasleys bustling about, helping me get my things together at the last minute.
"I asked him to meet me out in the Quidditch field behind the Weasleys' house. We'd been spending time out there every day, anyway. I felt comfortable there.
"I was a few minutes late. I couldn't find one of my school books, and I was searching Ginny's room for it. I was a few minutes late…."
I'd spent four years trying not to think about that morning. I'd never told anyone the whole truth about what had happened and how I felt about it. After Oliver, I never told anyone else about it. I needed another person to know, though. I needed someone to understand.
"He way lying on the ground when I got there. I ran over… and… his hair was even redder than normal. From blood. And… I tried to wake him up as carefully as I could. I checked his breathing and his heart, and he was still alive. So… I sent up large flares and loud noises with my wand, which I had with me because I was leaving. I still don't know what spells I cast, but it worked. Mr. Weasley Apparated out onto the Quidditch pitch. He didn't ask me any questions… ever… he just made a stretcher appear and magicked Dan onto it.
"We ran back to the Burrow. We passed the rest of the Weasleys about halfway there. They followed us back. Mrs. Weasley… Mrs. Weasley… tried to stop the bleeding while Mr. Weasley tried to get help. I watched their clock. It shows where all of the Weasleys are. Dan's was spinning, slowly at first, and then faster and faster…. It couldn't find him. I don't really remember anything after that."
I put a hand over my mouth, trying to stop myself from crying, even though I knew that it was hopeless. Once my tears started flowing, I concentrated on saying the next part without letting any sobs escape.
"If I'd been on time, maybe there's had been enough time to save him. Or maybe he'd have never fallen at all. I shouldn't have asked him to come to begin with. I wanted ten minutes with him, alone, away from his family, and I ended up taking him away from his family forever," I said, failing my battle with my emotions miserably. I finally broke down, letting all of my weight fall against the wall.
"I… I shouldn't have brought this up. I knew… but I shouldn't have let my curiousity…."
"I didn't have to tell you," I said, composing myself enough to stand up without the wall. "It's not your fault."
"It's not yours either," he said, softly. "It wasn't your fault he fell. Accidents happen."
I wiped tears away from my face, still crying, although quieter now. "I know they do," I said, "but I made several circumstances that made the accident possible."
"But it was still an accident, Laura. I knew Dan very well, and I know that he would NEVER blame you for what happened."
"I've told myself that for years, but I still feel… so guilty," I said, bringing a hand up to my mouth again because I felt another wave of sobs coming.
And Oliver did what was probably the worst thing he could have done to try to stop me from crying. He stepped over and hugged me.
I buried half of my face in his shoulder and clutched his cloak, as any self-control and dignity I had left disappeared. I all but collapsed into sobs.
Oliver kept me up. He said that he thought I had probably put this off for too long. I didn't hear anything else he said, and I don't know if he cried or not.
Now that I've had truly enough time to reflect on everything, Oliver was right when he said that I had put off this crying for too long. I had cried more than my fair share of tears over the incident, but I had never let the feelings go while doing it.
And, honestly, it wasn't only guilt about Dan's death that was making me cry. The vast majority of it was. But I felt guilty about Dan's life, too. I felt guilty that while I had loved Dan, I had never fallen in love with him. I felt guilty that I had never told Dan that I loved him when he could hear me. I was considering telling him the morning he died, but I probably wouldn't have. I only told him when he was unconscious, and that is something that I never told anyone, not even Oliver. And despite all of this that was racking me with guilt, what made me feel the most like a bad person was that this hug from Oliver meant more to me than any kiss from Dan had.
After what seemed like forever, I finally got enough control that I was barely crying anymore. I let go of Oliver's cloak and tried to brush out any wrinkles there have been that I couldn't see in the dark. I pulled back a little, self-consciously, and patted my pockets, feeling for my wand.
Oliver bent down and picked up my wand. I hadn't remembered dropping it. He handed it over to me.
I took it carefully. "Lumos." I looked around us to find the Golden Snitches hovering around us. I stepped back towards the wall and gasped a little. The Snitches scattered quickly.
"See? I told you they can feel," Oliver said quietly.
I nodded.
The two of us stood looking at the Snitches for a few minutes in an uncomfortable silence.
"I'm—"
"Don't say you're sorry again," Oliver said, almost strictly.
I almost started crying again. "Then, thank you… you know… for being there, I guess," I said, quietly, my face burning. "I know… I know you lost him, too, Oliver."
"Not like you—"
"Exactly like I did," I said. "He cared about you."
"I know. He… was a good captain. I try to be like him, but I can't. I don't have the same… I don't even know what he had that I can't seem to get."
"I'm sure you're a good captain, too, Oliver."
"We haven't won that Cup yet while I've been captain."
"Your Seeker has a lot to do with that."
"Potter's why we've won most of our games."
"You taught him."
"He didn't need me to teach him. He's a natural. I never knew what a natural was until I saw that kid fly."
"Then you let him do his own thing. You let him learn on his own. That can be just as hard as teaching."
Oliver laughed. "You're trying to make me feel better."
I smiled. "I owe you that much, don't I?"
"No," he said, seriously.
"Well, you may have admired Dan, but he returned that admiration."
"Don't make up—"
"I would never lie about the things that Dan told me," I said. "He told me he was preparing you to be the next captain, after he graduated. He said he saw himself as that captain in between Charlie Weasley and Oliver Wood."
"The Gryffindor Quidditch team would never have seen him like that," Oliver said.
"I hope not, but what does it matter, if that's how he saw you?"
Oliver didn't say anything.
I smiled at him. I waited a minute so he could let that sink in. "He told me about your pre-match rituals."
"He didn't," Oliver said, snapping back into reality.
I laughed and rubbed my eyes, trying to loosen them up from the tears. "Honestly, I think it's cute."
"He told you?" Oliver asked.
"You really sit in a room and talk to your dad's picture?"
"Oh, God, he did tell you," Oliver groaned.
"And then you put on your Quidditch robes inside out, turn around three times saying 'Smoking is silly, drinking's a sin, I don't do either, so, God, let us win.' Then you turn your robes back the way they're supposed to be, put them on, lay your broom on the ground and jump over it."
By this time Oliver was laughing and blushing so much I could see his cheeks turn red in the dim light. "Tell me you didn't tell anyone else."
"Percy," I admitted.
He groaned. "That means the whole school must know."
"Who would Percy tell?" I asked. "That wasn't very nice," I scolded myself.
Oliver laughed a little more genuinely. "Did Dan ever tell you his pre-match rituals?"
"I asked him to but he wouldn't."
"He would go around the locker room, touching the number of every locker in there. Then he would go to his own locker, open it and write down the name of a girl…." He stopped.
"Go on. I don't mind," I said sincerely.
"You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure."
"I don't… if it will hurt you—"
"Don't worry. I only break down talking about his death, not his life."
Oliver nodded. After a few seconds, he said, "He respected you."
I smiled. "I know he respected me, Oliver."
"No, I mean… he gave respect to everyone, but certain people he respected."
"I don't understand."
"Isn't there someone whom you would never even dream of being rude to because you look up to them, in some way? It's different than using your manners. It's respect.
"There's one thing he said that I can remember perfectly, word-for-word. It was about you. And me, but the reason I remember it is because I thought he was wrong. I respected him like he respected you, Laura, and him being wrong was something I never forgot. It lowered my opinion of him. He went from a superhero to a hero… but being a hero is better.
"It was during my third year. I still didn't really have good friends. I was hanging around with the other third years, but they weren't my friends yet. Anyway, after a practice one night, I said something about you that wasn't very nice. I don't remember what I said. Only what he said.
"He said, 'That girl's loyalty is so strong, she couldn't support you both. It would have been unloyal to both of you. So she chose Percy. Percy needed her more than you did, Wood. Now, either you can prove Laura right, and be strong, like she knows you are, or you can keep feeling sorry for yourself.'"
I didn't say anything. That's how Daniel saw what I did to Oliver by ditching him for Percy? Is that how it was? No, not really how it was. But Dan did see the best in people.
"That was the only time that Dan ever said something to me that made me want to cry. I said, 'I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal. A Gryffindor would stand up for both of her friends,' under my breath."
I looked away from him.
"And Dan laughed."
"What?" I asked, looking back at him, a little angrily.
Oliver was smiling, which only made me angrier. I felt like I was being attacked, which, maybe in some ways I was, but Oliver wasn't doing the attacking. I was.
"Yeah, Dan laughed at me. 'Is that how you see it?' he asked. I responded that it was. He shook his head, still smiling, and said, 'Then were you ever really her friend, or a friend of her friend?' When I didn't answer, he said, 'Because if you really were her friend, then, yes, your comment would be deserved, but I don't think you were.'
"I asked him why he didn't think so, and how he would know anyway. He said, 'Because if you earn her loyalty, you'll never lose it, Wood.'"
I was crying again, silently, still not looking at Oliver.
"He really said all of that?" I asked.
"Yeah, he really said all of that."
"He was wrong," I said.
"No he wasn't. We never got to be friends in our own right. We were too worried about being Percy's friend to ever become good friends ourselves. We may have been more than acquaintances, but we weren't as good of friends with each other as we were with Percy. Dan was right."
I turned to look Oliver in the eyes, not caring if he saw my tears, now. Hell, what did it matter after the scene I'd made earlier?
"I remember being friends."
"Really? Really friends?" he asked.
I thought for a few seconds. I remembered being around Percy and Oliver all of the time. I remembered feeling a little left out because I was a girl. Everything I remembered about Oliver from that time did have to do with Percy, although the same couldn't be said for Percy. I remembered things about Percy that Oliver had nothing to do with.
"Maybe not," I said, slowly. "But that's no excuse for taking Percy's side automatically."
Now it was Oliver's turn to think. After a few more seconds, he shook his head. "No, but it does make us even because I probably would have done the same thing you did."
I smiled a little. "I'm not sure how much logic is behind that, because you didn't do the same thing to me, but… Oliver, the truth is that I don't really care anymore. I regret everything that happened, and I wish that Percy and you were friends again, but… it doesn't matter. Unlike five years ago, I do have you and Percy as friends now."
Oliver smiled. "Are you happy now?" he asked, not in a sarcastic or angry way, but sincerely.
"What?" I asked.
"That day in the Forbidden Forest, you didn't think things had turned out well, but do you now?"
"I think they turned out how they turned out. Could everything have turned out better? Undoubtedly. But I am happy now."
"Good."
"Are you?" I asked.
He thought a few seconds before laughing. "I will be if Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup."
I smiled. "And if not?"
"If not? We're going to win," Oliver said.
I smiled a little more. "Of course you are, but humor me. If not?"
"If not? If we don't win the Quidditch Cup… I have to win that cup, Laura."
"Why?" I asked, calmly.
"Because Quidditch is who I am."
"We've had this conversation. You aren't Quidditch. You're much more than this sport, no matter how you feel about it."
"I see myself as Quidditch. It's all I've ever been good at. It's how people see me. If I lose that… if I lose the person I see as me…."
"You lose yourself?"
"I guess."
"You can still have Quidditch without winning the Cup."
"That Cup is all I've ever wanted." He paused. "Almost all I've ever wanted."
"What else do you want?"
He smiled. "Stupid things."
"What?"
"A crystal ball."
I laughed. "What on Earth for?"
"Just to have one. They're… you can see things in them."
"Only if there's something on the other side of the crystal ball, and you're seeing the reflections."
He laughed. "Maybe, but I'd still like to have one."
"What else do you want?"
"My own Quidditch pitch. A real one, I mean. Like this place. And I want a dog."
"A dog?" I asked.
"Yes. My parents never let me have one because I'm at school most of the year, but after we all graduate, I'm getting a dog."
"You want a dog, a crystal ball, a Quidditch stadium and the Quidditch Cup. Sounds fair enough."
"I think it's reasonable. Except for the Quidditch stadium, maybe. I want one more thing, though."
"Yes?" I asked.
"Dinner. It must be time for dinner by now."
"You're right!" I said. I was a little hungry, but I'd completely forgotten about the time. "Do we go back the say we came, or—"
"No. We can't get back through that wall in the locker room. Follow me," Oliver said, reaching out and taking my hand again, even though we had wandlight now.
He walked straight across the room and through a wall with me right behind him. We ended up outside of the Quidditch stadium.
"I'm assuming we can't get in that way because that would have been a lot easier," I said.
Oliver tapped the solid wall a couple of times to answer my question. He let go of my hand and we started towards Hogwarts. I figured we were going to be a little late for dinner, but there was no punishment for that.
"What do you want after we graduate?" Oliver asked, when we were about halfway to the castle.
"I just want to be happy. Whatever it takes to be happy, I guess I want."
Oliver didn't say anything.
"That and I want a Ken doll. I had way too many Barbies but no Kens. It was hard to play house with no Kens… I just need a Ken doll to sit in the basement with the Barbies."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Oliver said, laughing.
I spent the rest of the walk into the castle explaining about Muggle toys. He seemed more interested in dolls than I thought he would be.
When we got to the Great Hall, I went to sit with Percy, like I did every evening. He was almost done eating.
"Where were you?" he asked.
"Quidditch stadium," I answered, already starting to serve myself.
"With Wood?"
"Yes."
"The whole time?"
"Just about."
"Alone?" he asked.
"No, I said I was with—"
"Alone with Wood?"
"Yes."
"That's been hours," he said.
"So?"
"What will people think?" he scolded.
I rolled my eyes. "Percy, think of all of the hours I've been alone with you. What do people think about that?"
Percy blushed a little. "That's different," he said, weakly.
"Why?"
"Because everyone knows we're only friends," he said.
"And everyone knows Oliver and I are friends. As I recall, it was big news for about half of a day, which is much more than enough time for everyone in the building to hear about it."
"And for the second half of that day, people were wondering whether it was anything more. Undoubtedly being alone for hours would only support those rumors."
"What difference does it make, Percy? He's my friend, but I can't be around him because the school may think something is going on? Or I can't be around him because you think something is going on?"
"I didn't say either one of those things. I'm just letting you know how it looks."
"There's nothing going on," I said, sighing.
Percy didn't say anything for a few moments. He only stared at me before leaving.
[Author's Note: That chapter was much shorter than the last one, but there was a lot of information disclosed in this chapter, so I wanted to keep it short. This is a chapter where I wanted to be more subtle than to just come out and say certain things. Like in the first chapter, I was vague on purpose, but please let me know if I was too vague.
Feedback on the Golden Snitch/ Ford Anglia/ Hogwarts theory (and anything else) is also more than welcome. I do think that this might be what is behind the Ford Anglia's "personality" (not necessarily Hogwarts or the Golden Snitches, though I think that there's a strong case for Hogwarts) in the real books. This would be important to the real books (not this story) because it implies that Hogwarts might be able to "feel" an alliance with one side if the Second War were to have a battle at Hogwarts. I think it's obvious that Hogwarts would "choose" Dumbledore's side.
And the always promised cliffhanger… coming up in Chapter 7: While Oliver is busy winning the Quidditch Cup (There's no cliffhanger there, obviously. Everyone knows they win.), Laura is finally willing to be honest with herself.]