Y/N and Oliver were best friends. They had known each other their whole lives. Not to mention they were neighbors. But going to Hogwarts changed everything. He is Gryffindor. She is Slytherin. Rival Quidditch Keepers. The friendship is gone...
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OLIVER
I don't hate her.
The last three years have been hell. When I see her I don't know how to act anymore.
When we were sorted into different houses it hurt, a lot! I was angry and upset. I felt betrayed by my best friend. What was I missing? We were the same person in so many ways. But I was mad at her.
When you're eleven I think you let your emotions run wild sometimes. I sure did. To an outsider, it would seem I was being petty and stupid, and maybe a part of me also felt that way. But, why? Why did she have to end up in Slytherin? Of all houses to be in. Y/N has always been a kind and caring person. Brave and determined to the last. I just didn't get it.
Seeing her in Quality Quidditch Supplies was no surprise to me. She is a quidditch player. It makes sense. But, seeing her here hurt. I want to talk to her. To try to explain my idiotic reasons for smashing our friendship to pieces.
I had no idea how though. The person I used to stay up all night with, sending enchanted birds back and forth between our windows just so we could still talk, is now someone I can't form words around.
She was avoiding me as best she could. I could see her creeping up to the counter trying to stay out of my line of sight. I couldn't help it. I had to look at her. Her body language said it all. She wanted nothing to do with me.
She ran out of the shop as if escaping a fire. I am the fire. The hazard in her life and It's all my fault.
Finding the Puddlemere shirt I want, I make my way up to the counter. I put on a fake smile for Mr. Bliggins as I lay the shirt on the counter. As I take my hands away from the shirt to reach for my money I notice a small change bag sitting on the counter. It's green with little snitches all over it.
Y/n's change bag.
It's the same one she had the summer before our first year. I reach my hand out to pick it up. I'm shaking. Pull it together Oliver! It's just a bag.
"Oh," Mr. Bliggins gasps, "Y/N must have left her bag."
"I can get it to her," I blurt out before even processing what I said. That would mean I would have to talk to her. But isn't that what I want? An opening to speak to her and try to fix what I broke. I hand Mr. Bliggins the money for the shirt and race out the door hoping she hadn't gone too far.
It is hot today. There is a slight haze in the air making it hard to see. I scan the crowd trying to find Y/N. It has only been a minute. She has to be nearby.
A thought comes to me. Maybe? I start pushing my way threw people, apologizing as I go.
There it is! Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour.
Walking up to the door I can already feel the change in temperature from the shop. And it isn't just the ice cream making it cold. Y/N is standing at the end of the line of people when I walk in. I place myself in line right behind her. She hasn't noticed me yet. She will need her change bag soon, so I need to act fast.
Tapping her on the shoulder I speak softly, "You forgot this."
Y/N
I feel a hand on my shoulder and a voice that makes me jump. Oli?
He's holding my change bag in his hand, a solemn look on his face. He also looks sweaty like he had been running. Was he chasing after me?
I rip the bag away from him and turn back to face the front before he can say a word.
"Can we talk?"
My whole body tenses at his words. Talk? I could feel the anger in my body bubbling to the surface. Why now? Why after all this time does he want to talk while I am standing in line to get an ice cream?
I don't turn around.
"Please?"
That's it! I turn and grab his arm, dragging him out the door. I pull him over to the side of the shop glaring at him.
"What could you possibly want to talk about Oliver?" I shout at him. I can't contain my emotions. It's the first time we have said a single word to each other in three years.
His gaze stays glued to me. His chestnut eyes shaking a bit. Is this going to be a staring contest?
"Oli! Speak, or else I'm just going to leave."
"I'm sorry," he says, his head hanging low. He looks upset, but what does he have to be upset about?
"Sorry for what?" I fire back.
"Y/N," The way he says my name is overwhelming. It is the soft way he used to say it when he would fly his broom up to my bedroom window early in the morning, trying his best not to wake up my parents. No! I can't do this right now. It's too much. I could feel the tears build again. I have to get out of here. I have to get away from him.
"No," I push against his chest making more space between us, "Sorry means nothing to me right now Oliver. Sorry does not mend three years of pain. I can't do this with you right now."
As I turn to walk away he grabs my wrist trying to pull me back. If I don't get out of here now he will see me turn into a wreck. He has no right to know that he has that power over me. Not now, not ever.
I look back at him long enough to give him one last push before running away.
The tears start to fall.
OLIVER
I watch as she runs away from me.
She's right. One sorry is not going to fix what has been done. I wanted so badly to try and explain my actions, but no words would come out except sorry.
I need to make this right, but who knows how long it is going to take? Fourteen-year-old me is going to have to reflect on the last three years of my life to figure out what needed to be done.
