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That afternoon, at Quidditch practice, Allyson, being one of Ravenclaw's chasers, was flying around and scoring goals. She was doing quite well until she saw that Oliver was standing below her in the stands, smiling sweetly up at her, his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

She flew down into the stands. This was too much; he was following her everywhere and it simply had to stop.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him angrily.

"I'm here to see you, of course." He took her hand and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Is that a Nimbus 2000?" He said in complete awe, pointing at her broom.

She sighed. "Oliver, this isn't working for me..."

He frowned a little. "Well, if you want help outside of your practices, I'm sure we can find some time to work on that weird curve in your throw."

Allyson paused. "There's a weird curve in my throw?" He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. "No, we don't need to get into that now." She shoved herself back onto the topic. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" he asked, smiling at her, totally unaware of what was coming.

"Oliver... I really like you, but..." She began to wince a little. This was going to be difficult. "What I mean to say is..."

The gentle smile upon his lips was slowly lessening and the mirthful shimmer in his pretty eyes was rapidly fading to a subtle glow of utterly surreal melancholy. "Allyson, no... You can't..."

"But Oliver, I have to." There were tears welling slowly in her eyes, knowing that she wanted to be with him, but that she couldn't live with the way he was acting. "I'm just not seeing any benefit in this for either of us."

"I thought you said you liked me." He said, sighing sadly, as he swallowed nervously.

"I do, Oliver, I like you so much, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but... I can't have the relationship with you that you want with me. You're invading my life and, I have to admit, it bothers me. I want someone who'll give me my space and who can respect me enough to know what I need as a person and not just as an object of affection."

"But, Allyson, I can do that!" His mouth was oddly firm, as though trying to keep his voice strong, for it had begun to shake with the effort of not crying.

She tried to look down at her feet; she couldn't stand to see him cry. "You've already proved to me that you can't."

"Please don't do this, I promise I can change, I'll give you more space, I'll do anything, just please give me one more chance." He took her hand.

She pulled it away. "Oliver, this is already really difficult for me, and I'm not changing my decision."

"How can you feel that way?" He asked truthfully.

She put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. She sighed and could think of nothing better to say than. "I'm sorry, Oliver..." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then hopped back on her broom, stifling a small sob as tears streamed voicelessly down her face.

She turned back to look at him, but she immediately wished she hadn't. He was sitting, bent over, on the ground, his face in his hands, crying silently.

Allyson couldn't take it. She shoved off of the ground and flew to the other side of the stadium as fast as she could.

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