Written for lezonne's Duct Tape Competition: Yellow - write a story that takes place during the day
Asking for Forgiveness
In the beginning they were just two people. She was in Hufflepuff, he in Ravenclaw. They were students of Hogwarts, learning, studying and enjoying.
And then it all changed.
She was just strolling down an empty corridor, carrying her books to the next class. She was upset with her friends who'd decided boys were more important than friendship. It was easier to walk a different way than endure another day of kisses and hugs and hand-holding.
Frustrated, she kept on walking, not paying attention to where she was heading. A few more paces forward, and she slammed face-first into a large body coming from the opposite direction.
Books tumbled everywhere, and she let out a startled cry as she fell flat on her backside in a very unladylike fashion.
"Watch where you're going!" she snapped, looking angrily up at the figure who'd caused her the embarrassment.
"Maybe you should watch we're you're going," came the reply, followed by a cheeky grin. The figure offered her a hand to help her to her feet, and then summoned all her books into one, neat pile, placing them in her hands. "I'm John," he then said. "John Dawlish."
"Amelia," she answered, her anger fading with every second. He was a handsome man, slightly older than her, she thought. He was a big build, tall, and wore a kind smile.
"Nice to meet you, Amelia. May I ask where you're going?"
Amelia blushed a furious red, embarrassed now that she had run into him. "To class," she mumbled.
"Let me carry your books for you. What floor are we going to?"
"The third."
He walked her to the exact classroom she told him for her Charms lesson she was already late for. Against her insistence, he even knocked on the door, interrupting Professor Flitwick.
"Excuse me, Sir," he said, "Please excuse Amelia for being late. It was my fault, I'm afraid. I wasn't watching where I was going, and we needed to pick all of her books up from the floor."
Looking rather startled to be interrupted, Flitwick ushered Amelia in, who was now blushing beetroot red as she found an empty seat at the back of the classroom.
"Th-thank you, Mr Dawlish," Flitwick stammered.
Dawlish nodded, grinned at Amelia, and then left. From the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of something silver on his chest – something that formed the letter H. He was the Head Boy.
"Who was that?" Rose McDermott, one of her so-called friends, asked.
Amelia shrugged. "A friend," she said.
"He's cute."
Amelia gave another shrug. Rose thought every boy was cute.
…
She saw him again that evening at dinner, a huge smile on his face, laughing with a group of boys she had seen on the Quidditch pitch before.
Then she saw him the next morning at breakfast, then along the corridor on her way to Potions the next day, and then heading up to the Astronomy Tower. Every time he would smile, and she would blush; but they would never speak to each other.
And then one day, it was just the two of them alone again. Completely by accident – at least on her part – but the moment he saw her strolling along that same corridor they had met just a week ago, he approached her.
"I've been meaning to get you alone for a while now," was what he said as a way of greeting.
"Oh?" Her heart did a funny thing in her chest; something she had never felt before.
"Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me this Valentine's Day? I mean… tomorrow?"
"Oh."
"Oh."
"No… no… I'd like that a lot. Yes… yes, I'd love to come with you."
And he smiled, and it was a bright, cheerful smile that she'd only seen on him the two times they had spoken. "I will see you tomorrow." This time, he didn't offer to carry her books.
…
It was a nice trip to Hogsmeade, though perhaps a little too romancy for her liking. They sat at a table in the corner in Madam Puddifoot's and she squirmed on her chair and shuffled her feet as she looked at everyone else surrounding her.
He didn't say anything, but she could guess what he was thinking. After all, the two couples either side of them hadn't parted lips in about five minutes.
"So…" John began after a moment. "How are you?"
And that was enough to get the conversation rolling. They talked about everything from where they were born to their favourite subject at Hogwarts. By the time they ran out of things to say, neither realised that they were holding hands across the table, caressing the other's like a normal couple might do.
"It has been nice here," John commented, looking down at their entwined hands. "You're nice."
All she could do was smile as she tried not to blush. She thought he was nice, too, but for some reason she couldn't find the words to tell him.
…
Suddenly, they became the talk of the school. Apparently it was big news that the Head Boy had found himself a girlfriend – and one who had virtually gone unnoticed for the five years of her own schooling career.
But she allowed him to hold her hand when they walked down corridors, and they stole kisses in abandoned classrooms. They couldn't have been happier for the remainder of that year.
But evidently, the joy they felt had to end sometime.
"We'll write, of course, my dear," John said, placing a kiss to her forehead. "And we'll see each other over summer." He kissed her lips.
"And you'll forget me," she answered, looking away. "You've already been accepted into the Aurors without them even knowing your results. You'll meet those who are a match for you, and in two years, when I'm finished, I'll just be a name to you."
John gave a deep, low chuckle. "That could never happen, Amelia," he said, and for some reason, she was stupid enough to believe him.
…
He kept his promise for six months.
Over the summer they would exchange a letter each day. He told her of his Outstandings in every subject and how he would begin Auror training in mid-August.
In June, he came to stay a week at her family's home. Her family loved him, and she was embarrassed when her parents hinted at some wedding plans. He simply laughed it off, though, and said maybe one day.
When he began his training, and she returned to school, their letters remained. She'd wait eagerly for her owl to arrive in the morning and she would grin foolishly over the many declarations of love. Her friends would roll their eyes, make gagging noises and tell her to get a room. But she ignored them.
After all, she had fallen for that big, kind, intelligent man who had carried her books to class last February. She had a right to be happy.
Every day she would write, and every day he would reply, until one day, there came no letter.
She wasn't going to be one of those people who waited, pining and wondering what she had done wrong, so she waited. She waited a day, two days, a week, and then a month. Her owl returned, but no letter.
"Maybe it got lost one day, and he's at the other end waiting for your letter?" Rose offered unhelpfully one evening by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. It was December 23rd and everyone was getting ready to leave for the holidays.
"Hm, maybe," she replied, disheartened, even though that was the one feeling she didn't want to feel. Most likely, she knew that what she had feared had come true. He'd moved on and forgotten about her.
She went home and spent Christmas with her family, and enjoyed the rest of her break away from school. Even though she doubted very much, a part of her still hoped for a letter to come and that it had all just been a horrible misunderstanding.
Though, she never received anything. She wasn't even wished a Merry Christmas.
…
Five years to the date of when he stopped writing, she had a solid job at the Ministry. The Wizengamot was something that had also fascinated her, but she'd never once thought that only at the age of twenty-two she would have her own cases. She was doing well for herself, and she was happy.
And then he appeared.
Once or twice she had wondered about him, wondered if she would see him, but she was too busy with her career to worry too much.
But just like all those years ago in Hogwarts castle, it was just the two of them alone in one corridor. She was hurrying along to get to her next meeting and he was on his way to the cafeteria for lunch. She ran head-first into him and he caught her with strong hands, preventing her fall.
Looking up into those handsome features brought the anger and hurt she'd pushed away for so long. He looked at her as if nothing had happened, as if all those stolen kisses at Hogwarts meant nothing to him.
She was probably less than a name to him now.
"Always in a hurry," he commented, smirking. "Some things never change."
She wrenched herself out of his grip, staring furiously in to those eyes she'd stupidly fallen for. "You remember, I suppose!" she snapped.
He bowed his head, as if he regretted the events that had befallen them.
"I have a meeting to get to," she said, moving out of his way. She'd managed a few paces before his hand gripped her wrist, spinning her to face him.
"My work got busy," he told her, and by the expression on his face, he seemed to think that was enough explanation he needed. "I could barely find the time to eat, let alone do anything else."
Not even a sorry. No begging for forgiveness. Just a lame explanation.
"I have a meeting," she said again, and this time she did leave. She didn't even look back to see his expression. She really did have that meeting to get to.
…
After that first meeting she saw him again and again. It seemed every corner she turned, he was there. He'd try to talk to her, to give another lousy explanation, but she pretended not to have heard. She kept walking, kept ignoring him, until one day, she had no choice but to speak to him.
It was nearing the end of the day and she was just finishing off a final bit of paperwork when he marched into her office, closing the door behind him.
"You can't keep ignoring me!" he snapped in a tone that didn't suit him at all. "My apology not good enough for your High Almighty Ego now, Madam?"
"A school girl not worthy of your letters, Auror Dawlish?" she retorted.
"I explained why."
"Five years… five years and you didn't have time for just one letter?" She looked at him so pointedly that John, who showed no fear, cowered slightly under his gaze.
"You were important to me," he said, whispering. "Truly."
"And you were once important to me," she replied.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. I'm sorry that you loved your job more than me."
He opened his mouth to argue with her but closed it just as quickly when he realised she wasn't going to believe whatever excuse he could come up with. He bowed his head.
"Please leave now, John," she said softly. "I've work to finish."
He made for the door, but stopped at the last minute, turning back to face her. "Would you like to have dinner after you finish?"
She looked up at him, eyes sad. "No, John," she said. "No."
He nodded. "I'll see you around."
When he was gone, she pushed her paperwork aside, burying her face in her hands. Maybe one day she would be ready to forgive him, but right now, all she wanted was to hex him.
I kind of randomly selected two characters from the character list for this fic, but it was fun to explore 2 characters we know very little about. Thanks to Kelly for betaing for me :) She's the best.