The Triangle: Year 3 (Draco X Reader X Harry)

Chapter 82

You awoke the next morning feeling lazy. Thank goodness it was Sunday.

You tiptoed down the staircase, not waking Hermione. You passed through the common room and began walking down the hall. You had no plan on where you were walking. You just needed to go on a walk.

You had only been walking for about four minutes when a noise in front of you startled you. You looked up, eager to know what had distracted you.

A tall boy with short brown hair was leaning against a wall, his broomstick in his hand and his head back, a stressed expression on his face.

"Oliver?" You asked slowly, walking towards him.

He looked up, as if surprised by your voice.

"Oh. Hey, I didn't catch your name?" He replied.

"Oh. I'm Y/n Y/l/n." You said, smiling at him. He smiled at you, trying to hide the stress that was so obvious by his facial expressions. "Is everything okay?"

Oliver frowned. "Just quidditch stuff." He said.

"Want to talk about it?"

Oliver sighed. "Oh it's nothing really. Just- ok, so you know how Harry's broom was smashed?" You nodded, watching Oliver talk. "Well, I was trying to convince McGonagall to let the team contribute to buy one. She refused, saying she wouldn't let us do that. Like, honestly, it's insane! She won't even have to pay for it, and-" Oliver began ranting on and on. You watched silently, enjoying his accent.

When he finally finished he took a deep breath.
"Sorry- sorry, that was so annoying." He said.

"What? No! No, it's okay. I love listening to people talk. But, I'm really sorry about that. I hope you guys manage to get Harry a broom, I really do." You said sympathetically.

Oliver nodded. He smiled at you. "Ya know, you're not that bad, Y/l/n."

You chuckled. "Neither are you, Wood." You smirked before walking away. You turned around once more, smiling at him before you rounded the corner.

Oliver's POV
I hurried from the Gryffindor common room hoping to find McGonagall. I walked down a couple staircases and towards her classroom, which is where I assumed she would be.

I knocked. Footsteps approached the door. The door opened a small amount and McGonagall's stern face appeared in the space between the door and the door frame.

"Mr. Wood." McGonagall said, moving to let me into the room. She then returned to her seat and began flipping through a number of worksheets.

"Hello, Professor." I greeted her. "I've got an important question to ask you."

The Professor looked up from the papers and looked at me sternly from above her glasses. "Go on."

"So I've been talking to my team, and we decided that- with your permission, of course- we could a chip in to buy Harry a new broom. Without him, we've got no seeker and that means no season." I explained.

McGonagall shook her head, returning her eyes to the paper.

"McGonagall, please!" I begged. She shook her head.

"Mr. Wood, I may not allow you to pay for another broom for Mr Potter. As much as I wish for the Quidditch season to commence for us Gryffindors, I simply cannot let you do that."

"But why? We want to! We'll all pitch in!" I said desperately.

"No, Mr. Wood and that is my final word." She said sternly.

"Please, McGonagall-"

"Out of my classroom, Mr. Wood." She said, glaring at me. "I am sorry, Oliver." Her voice softened.

I walked out, stressed and defeated. I cursed to myself and began walking back to the common room. I stopped short, in the middle of the hallway, unable to go back. How was I supposed to tell my team that we couldn't play anymore?

I leaned against a wall, really really frustrated.

"Oliver?" A soft voice jolted my eyes open. I looked up and saw the girl I talked to yesterday standing in the hallway, watching me. I recognized her from something else but I couldn't tell from what.

"Oh. Hey, I didn't catch your name?"

"Oh. I'm Y/n Y/l/n." She smiled and I returned her smile, attempting to hide the stress. Clearly it didn't work, because she asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Just quidditch stuff." I frowned, not wanting to bother her with my problems.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked. Jeez, she was nice. She probably didn't even care about quidditch. That means she was only doing this for me.

" Oh it's nothing really. Just- ok, so you know how Harry's broom was smashed?" I asked, waiting for her response. She nodded, watching me talk.  "Well, I was trying to convince McGonagall to let the team contribute to buy one. She refused, saying she wouldn't let us do that. Like, honestly, it's insane! She won't even have to pay for it, and she won't let us! It's like she doesn't even want us to play, and now, I know that's not true, but I can't help but think it. And Harry is so upset about his broom! I just want to buy him another and she won't let us. It's absurd." I finished my rant, and looked up at her. She was watching me, listening. She seemed like she actually cared about my stupid quidditch problems.

I realized how annoying I must've sounded, complaining about quidditch when there are bigger problems like Sirius Black, and the dementors and all that. "Sorry- sorry, that was so annoying." I sighed. Damn, why was I like this?

"What? No! No, it's okay. I love listening to people talk. But, I'm really sorry about that. I hope you guys manage to get Harry a broom, I really do." She said quietly, looking at me sympathetically. I looked up at her, appreciating the company and a pair of listening ears. None of my friends ever listened to me complain about quidditch. They said I talked about it to much.

I smiled, taking a fondness over this girl. "Ya know, you're not that bad, Y/l/n."

She smiled at me. "Neither are you, Wood." With that she turned and walked away. As she turned her head to smile at me I recognized where I know her from.

She was the girl who cheered for me when I missed a goal. She was the only one who supported me whether I did good or not.