Where was she?

As he headed back to Gryffindor Tower after practice, he couldn't help but realize he hadn't seen Charity since breakfast. The long hours of practice, the strategy talks and running through defense formations, the long talks about Quaffle possession and Snitch chasing, had managed to distract him from reflecting on the angry words they both had spoken that morning.

At first he had been determined to stay angry with her, but now all he wanted to do was apologize. He had missed seeing her between classes, those moments when they would pass on their separate ways in the castle and would extend their hands for a brief squeeze and a shy smile, or during their shared free period, when they would sit by the lake alone with nothing but the water and the trees in the distance.

It wasn't until he reached Gryffindor Tower and the Fat Lady had swung forward to admit him when he finally found her.

She was sitting in the nearly empty common room, her back against the sofa as she gazed into the depths of the fire. Her left hand was tightly wrapped in cotton and held to her chest. He could clearly see the redness in her eyes that indicated she had spent a reasonable amount of time crying.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his windswept brown hair and headed over to join her.

She made no notice of his presence as he sat down next to her. It wasn't until he reached over to push a piece of her long dark brown hair behind her ear that she tore her gaze away from the fire as if coming out of a trance.

Sighing, she held her hand more tightly to her chest and looked over to meet his eyes. "Oliver, I'm sorry…about earlier," she whispered, looking into his deep hazel eyes for a brief moment before looking down again.

"It's fine," he replied quietly. "I understand why you got upset."

A few tears slipped from her jade green eyes and she took a deep breath before facing him once again. "I didn't like going a whole day without speaking to you," she admitted, smiling weakly through her tears.

"Me either." His fingertips lingered on her face, tracing along her cheekbones and wiping away the tears.

She looked away again, into the fire, as he continued to stroke her face. There were a few more moments of silence before she spoke again.

"I won't be able to come to the match Saturday," she said, unable to meet his eyes to see the disappointment she feared would be there. "I lost my temper in Umbridge's class today. She gave me detention for the next month, and decided Saturday mornings were most convenient for her." She finished her sentence with a small sob. She had never missed one of his games before. Never. It was actually painful to think she would have to miss this one, when it could very well mean the difference between winning the Quidditch Cup or losing it to Slytherin.

Without hesitation, he moved closer to her and wrapped his arm around her as tightly as he could, pulling her close against him. "Love, please don't cry," he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her temple. "I know you would be there if you could."

He opened his eyes and they locked onto the bandaged hand she still had pressed to her chest. Without waiting for her response, he gently pulled her hand away from her chest and towards him. Unwrapping the bandages soon revealed the message I must respect the authority of my superiors where it was carved into the back of her hand, as if with a knife.

"That bloody toad," he exclaimed, gritting his teeth as his free hand clenched into a fist. "The next time I see her, I swear to-"

"Oliver, don't," Charity pleaded suddenly, looking up at him. "It will only get you into more trouble. Besides," she continued, forcing a very strained smile, "Gryffindor needs their best Keeper on Saturday."

Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath and gently replaced the bandages around her wound before softly kissing the back of her hand and giving her uninjured one a firm squeeze. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't," she replied, shaking her head once. "It was my fault. It's just she was starting on Harry again and I got angry and after this morn-" She froze and changed mid sentence, "I was already in an awful mood."

They both stared into the fire for what seemed like a while. Then, suddenly she took a shaky breath and whispered, "I'm not going to stop you. I don't want to tell you what to do, but-" Another trembling breath told him that she was starting to cry again. "What if something happens to you? The Order is dangerous and I don't know what I would do if-if-I lost you."

Her words and the sound of her tears stabbed deep in his chest, but he was determined to join the Order as soon as this term ended. As many offers that he received from the various Quidditch teams, all vying for him to join their ranks, he could not ignore the fight.

"I have to fight, Charity," he whispered in reply, wrapping both arms tightly around her and pulling her to his chest. "I can't ignore the war that's going on, even if the Ministry chooses to. I have to help stop him before he's in control of everything and I lose you."

As a Muggleborn, Charity's life would be most at risk if Voldemort were to take over Hogwarts.

They both knew that.
"I love you," she whispered into his chest, her eyes closed as more tears slipped out from behind her eyelids. "that's why I'm going to trust you." She finished her sentence with another quiet sob.

"I love you so much. That's why I'm going to fight." He glanced down at the stark white bandage on her hand and it filled him with stronger resolve. His arms slipped around her as far as possible and he pulled her even more closely against him.

Her face and his shirt soaked with tears, she slowly and quietly moved one arm over until the fingers of her uninjured hand pressed against her stomach. And with more silent tears, she thought of the new life inside her and directed her next thought there.

I'm sorry, baby.