Before I knew it, I was running. I wasn't completely sure what I was running towards – but I knew who I was running away from.
Hate is a very strong word. It's an even stronger word when it's used to describe how you feel about your own flesh and blood... but I hated my sister. I absolutely hated her.
I'd given her another chance: she promised me it wouldn't happen again. She'd sworn, in fact.
'It just happened...' she had said convincingly.
'Give her the benefit of the doubt,' my brother had told me.
'You can't help who you fall in love with,' my mother had said.
I was stupid enough to trust her again. I thought Matthew was different. He seemed sweet. Kind. Considerate. He said he loved me...
It's not love when you find him kissing your sister, I thought, my heart breaking into pieces.
I stopped suddenly, realising how far I had come. Looking up, I let the soft patter of rain merge with my tears. As they slid slowly down my cheeks, my legs quickly gave way beneath me. I sobbed harder, hiding my face in my hands as I sunk into the muddy grass, my entire body was shaking: I stayed this way for what seemed like hours, when in reality, it was only a few minutes.
Eventually composing myself, I stood up slowly, my legs still unstable. It was only when the sun began to appear from behind the rain clouds that I realised what a beautiful town Ottery St. Catchpole was. As I stood on top of Stoatshead Hill, I couldn't help but smile down upon the series of houses below. The roofs glistened as the rays of the sun bounced off them. Nearby, the Otter River flowed almost silently.
If only I weren't so different, I thought to myself. I'd stay here forever...
No sooner had I thought these words, then I heard a familiar voice call out my name.
“Lisa?”
I turned on the spot, momentarily stunned. Surely he couldn't be here?.
He smiled as he came toward me and I instantly knew my hunch was correct. The sun was getting brighter by the second as he got closer, his light brown hair softly ruffled by the wind. I'd almost forgotten how extraordinarily good looking he was. His warm grey eyes met my own turquoise blue, but instead of smiling as I'd expected, he gave a sad frown.
“What are you doing here? Is everything OK?” he asked, sounding concerned.
I quickly realised my eyes must have still been red and puffy, and I attempted to wipe the last of my tears from my cheeks.
“Yes. I'm fine, thank you.” I smiled, trying to sound sincere. “I'm surprised to see you here.”
“I live just on the opposite side of Stoatshead Hill,” the boy said, smiling and nodding in the general direction he'd come from. Looking over his shoulder slightly, I could see a small collection of houses nestled in the valley below. “Are you sure you're all right? Do you want to talk about it?”
I thought for a brief minute. Would it be wise to entrust the entire contents of my heart to this boy? He wasn't a stranger. We were both in the same year, and we were both Prefects as he was in Hufflepuff and myself in Ravenclaw. Then again, I was pretty sure if I started telling him my life story, I wouldn't see him for dust.
I looked up from the ground, shocked to find he had taken a step closer.
“Honestly, It's nothing. Just family trouble,” I said, putting on a smile. I must have looked a tad more believable, because he dropped the subject.
“At least let me walk you home,” he said smiling. “It's getting dark.”
I looked around, and sure enough, the sun was now setting.
“Sure.” I smiled, falling into step beside him as we walked in the general direction of my house.
As we walked, I listened to his voice and studied his facial expressions. When he spoke about Quiddich, a fond smile formed on his lips. I saw the gleam in his eyes as he spoke about the Quiddich World Cup, and I felt his pain as he recounted what had happened afterwards in regards to the Death Eaters. His brow wrinkled when he spoke of Hogwarts, and lessons he didn't enjoy, and he chuckled – more to himself than to me – when he mentioned the incidents he'd gotten himself into in the previous year. Every movement he made seemed to hypnotise me, so much so that I didn't realise we had reached my home until he had stopped walking.
“Thank you for walking me home,” I said, grinning sheepishly.
“It was my pleasure,” he said, his crooked smile making my heart skip a beat. “I guess I'll see you in the Prefect's Carriage on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow?”
"Of course. Good night," I said, before opening the gate. Half way up the path, I turned. He was nowhere to be seen.
I sighed to myself as I stood in the middle of my garden.
Could I possibly be falling for Cedric Diggory?
One Sweet Love by AlexPotter
Story Notes:
This is a Cedric/OC story. I do not claim to own any characters created by the fabulous J K Rowling. Only my own. :-)
Chapter Notes: I thought it a good idea to write this, just to give Lisa a little bit of context. Thank you to Azhure for being a wonderful BETA. Enjoy? :-)
Chapter Endnotes: I hope you liked this. It gives a bit more of an insight into Lisa's character :-) Review?