Today when he woke up, he expected his day to be no different than it was. But each day is new, and one can never be too sure about new.

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Oliver had everything a man could dream of. A successful career, a loving family, amazing friends and finally a life revolving around one thing he valued the most: Quidditch.

His life after the war took off with no signs of stopping and he never had a reason to look back even once. His becoming of one of the youngest, most celebrated captain of Puddlemere United was a dream of his that finally came true. Not to mention the female fan following, that was something that highly amused him.

Yet, he felt as though something was missing and he quite couldn't put a finger on it; but George always would laugh and say that it was the love of a special woman that was lacking, a point unanimously agreed by his family. He had been in one or two relationships but he couldn't quite see what was the point in it. They were dull, boring; they lacked what George would call a "spark" and Oliver agreed with him. Not that he didn't mind being single.

It was yet another day he spent walking down the streets of Muggle London. Honestly speaking, he was fascinated by the Muggles and found it highly amusing that they were so blissfully unaware of a world running parallel to theirs; his world. Oh, and also their notion of witches and wizards being nothing but one more scary bedtime story to tell their children and yet here he was, walking in their midst. Muggle London was also kind of a getaway for him; his safe haven from Rita Skeeter's prowling cameras and pesky reporters.

He finally arrives at his destination, a small café owned by a kind, old lady and her mischievous grandson. The first time he went there, it reminded him of the Leaky Cauldron. Everything was so old-fashioned when compared to the other smalltime cafés in London. He walks in and notices that it was unusually crowded that day. However, his usual spot, right beside the window was empty. He sits down and stares out of the window, watching the very first, few snowflakes of winter drop from the sky.

A few minutes later, a young boy, not more than 11, walks by and places a hot cup of chocolate on the table, smiling at Oliver.

"Ah, Jonathan, how are we today?"

"Doing well, Mr. Wood, it's a bit crowded today." The young boy replies, taking a quick glance at the people around.

"Then I won't take much of your time. And tell your grandmother I said hi." He replies and the little boy scampers off. Oliver takes a good look of his surroundings. The tables were full, mainly occupied by couples and love struck teens. He smiles. Life was just so easy for them.

And then the door opens once again, and his gaze shifts in that direction. A young lady had walked in and was standing next to the counter, placing her order. Now there was something of this lady that intrigued Oliver. She looked so familiar. She grabs her tray and turns around; looking for an empty seat and her eyes fall on Oliver.

He couldn't believe his eyes when he sees her standing there. He hasn't seen her in a long time. She had just mysteriously disappeared after the war and no one ever heard from her. And yet here she was, standing right in front of him and he knew that she recognized him too, though she may not want to admit it. She was struggling to show no signs of recognition and she was failing miserably. As she started walking towards him, he looks down, not wanting to make his staring obvious. A minute later a pair of black heels came into his view and a voice along with it;

"Is this seat taken?"

He looks up, his eyes once again meeting her dark, chocolaty ones. Merlin, he had never known her eyes were that brown until now. She sat on the seat opposite him and set her tray on the table.

Emma Potter was sitting in front of him, and he couldn't believe it.

Her back-story also comes to be an interesting one. Born to Lily and James Potter, fraternal twin to Harry, she was taken by the Order after the prophecy for her safety. No one even knew of her existence until she came to Hogwarts, during the Triwizard tournament, from Beauxbatons. She shortly joined Hogwarts for her fifth year, though he only met her during dinners at the Weasley's. She came to him as a shy, quite and a reserved girl despite the fact that he found her as an extremely chatty and bubbly person around people she was comfortable with, like Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Ron, George...

It seems that he is the only one left out on that list.

The silence between them is an awkward one, well at least awkward to Oliver. Emma sat calmly on her seat clutching onto her cup and sipping the hot chocolate. A couple of times their eyes meet and he knows that she caught him staring. But he couldn't help it. There was something about her that seemed different. The lanky, sheepish girl became the beautiful, mature woman. He wants to bombard her with questions. He is insanely curious now that she is with him. He wants to know where she went, why she went, why it that even Harry, her own brother, had only a vague idea as to where she was. But deep down, he knows that she is expecting this. She was just keeping calm.

"It's been a long time, isn't it"? He starts off and then mentally slaps himself for not coming up with something better. He gains her attention as her gaze is averted from her cup to him and she mutters a slow "Yes."

He feels somewhat encouraged, that he had opened the conversation.

"Where have you been?" He asks, the very first question of what he fears might be a very long list of questions.

"Around." She replies vaguely and he knows that she is beating around the bush. He always knew of how she was the smart one.

His stare at her becomes fixated and he tells her gently; "You know what I mean."

She looks down; contemplating on whether to answer that or pretend that she never heard it. She ultimately looks back at him and begins with a sigh, "I left for France. Completed my last year at Beauxbatons and then taught DADA there."

He smiles, glad that she was finally opening up. "That's good. And given your experience, they couldn't have asked for anyone better."

This brings a smile on her face, the first one he's seen since she had arrived. He takes this as a cue to continue.

"Why did you leave? Even Harry barely knew where you went." He asks again, trying to sound as gentle as possible. He doesn't want to be rude or demanding. For some reason, he just wants to know.

"I needed to clear my head a bit. Needed to get out of this for a while. Needed my own space." She replies, her voice surprisingly low.

He thinks that he might have sounded a bit too intrusive and should probably apologize and stop his little questionnaire.

However, she quickly cut him off. "I though no one would have noticed. It wasn't like I was important or something."

Part of him wanted to tell off her worries. But part of him knew it was the truth.

Her whole life, Emma spent living under the shadows of her famous brother. No, she wasn't the chosen one, but his sister, a name that had been coined for her throughout her years in Hogwarts. She wasn't particularly social either. She loved to spend time with her books. She excelled in anything she took up. She was smart, almost smart enough to give Hermione a run for her money.

And then she left unexpectedly.

"People noticed, Emma. People who cared about you did. People who knew you did. There wasn't a single day in our lives when you hadn't crossed our minds. We were worried for you Emma, because we cared for you." He notices how unnaturally low his voice had become and how soothing it was at the moment.

Emma looks at him and smiles appreciatively. "I came back because Harry and Ginny are expecting their first child."

"And will you stay this time?" He asks and he can feel his heart beat faster as this question popped up. He wants her to stay, for all the right reasons. But he knows what hoping too much can lead to. Still, he can't resist wanting her to stay.

"Maybe." An ambiguous answer is all he gets.

She then gets up; picks her bags and looks at Oliver. "It was really nice seeing you again Oliver." When she is at the door, she turns to give him one long look before waving and walking away.

And at that very moment, Oliver finds out what he was missing.

A/N: Hey ! This was just a small one-shot that came into mind head while studying :P I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with this but let me know what you think.

Thanks for reading :D