A/N: I dunno why it's taking me so long to update since I've had these chapters written out for months. Sry about that, if anyone's really reading, lol. I've been so consumed with 'Vanity' lately, which I actually finished today. I just have to go over it again before I post it which may not be 'till Saturday since I'm shopping tomorow. Anyways, hope you guys like this chapter, only one more after this with a surprise ending! Happy Thanksgving!

Chapter 6: When it Rains, It Pours

Looking back at me I see
That I never really got it right
I never stopped to think of you
I'm always wrapped up in
Things I cannot win

What I really meant to say
Is I'm sorry for the way I am
I never meant to be so cold

I never really wanted you to see
The screwed up side of me
It always seems to get to me
I never really wanted you to go
-Crossfade

It had never occurred to me before to ask someone for help. Teachers of magic shouldn't be too appalled by the situation…that is assuming that they even believed me. Asking adults for help wasn't necessarily hard for me; it just never occurred to me much, even in my own world. But about half way through Defense Against the Dark Arts that sunny afternoon I started getting ideas…

Professor Lupin had always been one of my favorite characters hands down. Not just from the Harry Potter books, but in general. His disregard for society, reserved sense of nature, intellect, and virtue of humility were all rather endearing. Knowing that he had his own secrets and that I could trust him had me contemplating going to him about my, er…predicament.

However, he already had quite a lot on his plate to start with. I didn't want him to take on the responsibility of helping me in his spare time as well. But I desperately needed someone to at least talk to.

'He doesn't have to help me…he can just talk me down. Perhaps explain part of what happened.' I was talking myself into staying after class. After all, what else was I supposed to do? The rest of Tuesday afternoons were reserved as N.E.W.T. study hall in the library for seventh year Gryffindors. I didn't want to be back in the library, after all the books I'd been through and still no answers I had already thrown the towel in.

As the rest of the class filtered out after the bell, I made my wary up to my professor's desk. My lips remained docile as I waited for him to notice my presence before I said anything. Within seconds he was looking up at me. Situating his quill back within its ink bottle he spoke.

"Yes Miss Trenton, how can I help you?"

"Professor…can we go in your office? I'd like to talk to you privately."

"Of course, but let's make it quick, I have another class in fifteen minutes."

"Okay, it shouldn't take too long." We began climbing the steps to his office. Doing my best to ignore the grindylow sloshing about in a large tank on the far side of the room, I began.

"Professor,…" 'How can I put this?' "I have a bit of a problem." 'You see, I'm a Mary-Sue, but I'm not supposed to be…' "Sir, do you believe in alternate universes?" 'Cause we're in one, see I read about all this in a book series once, none of it is real, not even you! Ha! Isn't that funny…? No I suppose not.'

"What kind of wizard would I be if I didn't?" His smile told me he was half humoring me. I sighed.

"Okay, well, do you suppose it's possible to…well…say you were an author. And you write this story and you're so excited about it and you think the whole idea makes sense and that it must be right. But you've never actually gone through what your characters are going through. And then you finally experience it and you realize your theories are all wrong. None of it is plausible in real life. Do you see what I'm saying?"

'Idon't even see what I'm saying.'

"I believe I do…" Professor Lupin looked rather thoughtful as he concentrated on the grindylow tank some 8 feet off.

'Well I'm glad one of us does.'

"You're simply realizing the knotgrass isn't always greener on the other side of the castle."

"Something like that I guess...Actually I hadn't thought of it like that. That was good." I smiled hopefully. Maybe he did get this after all. "So, do you have any advice?"

'Hop the next black hole out of here…'

"Try looking at it from a different perspective."

'Actually, that's my problem…'

I looked at him and bit my tongue, hesitant to voice my thoughts. Sensing I needed him to re-phrase his words, he spoke once more.

"Re-write your book."

Before I knew what had happened I was waking up to Halloween Saturday and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Disparaging walks off grounds, long and unhealthy awkward silences with hungry anger looming in between, and a security lockdown to look forward to that night. It was going be a long day.

I got dressed that morning and made my way down the sloping campus towards the gates in the midst of my peers. I was either being steadily ignored or steadily kept an eye on. Both bothered me, but what was there to really do about it?

I turned my concentration to the way the steep, grassy earth felt beneath me as I walked on. My eyes closed. I could feel the wind on my face, in my ears, through my hair. The sun's warmth wasn't very penetrating today even if it was incredibly bright out. Reaching even ground brought me back to reality and forced me to open my eyes. I'd arrived at the gates. Tall and black they wove their sturdy path around the school. A deep breath of clear autumn air passed through me. Over my shoulder I allowed myself a thoughtful gaze. The lake was sparkling enticingly. Deceptive image, for it had to be even colder within its waters than the crisp air blowing across it. The sight of the waters gave way to the thought of one word: reflection. I needed it more than a trip to Hogsmeade at the moment. Besides, it's not as if I'd be missed.

Hiking wasn't something I did often; in fact I wasn't outdoorsy by any means. But as far as I can remember every memory I have of physical exertion out in nature has proved to be a very positive experience. This was no different. The hike around to the opposite end of the lake, the low land forest facing Hogwarts and the cliff it was situated upon, relaxed my tense, upset state of mind. A boulder just shy of the lapping shoreline sat in a curtain of sunlight. Its flat top was placidly uneven, slightly more up than down on the left, but it made a fine bench and I resigned to sitting with my legs crossed Indian style, watching the tarn stretched out before me.

I wasn't getting along with anyone any more. Well, with the mild exception of Timothy who was pleasant to everyone, not to mention a little oblivious to everything going on between myself, Alicia and Wood.

Perhaps I should just chill out. Step out of the lime light that is petty hormonal drama. Alicia could have Oliver if she wanted him. What claim did I, or even Chase for that matter, have on him? Why did I even want one?

But then again, that was the reason this whole equation wasn't adding up. Oliver didn't like Alicia like that. That's what bothered her so badly, that she thought she was better than Chase and out of no where Chase turned out to be a threat. To make shit even better, Chase hadn't been trying to be a bitch, she'd simply walked in on a situation that from far away actually looked sort of funny.

Well, at least I was seeing things from a different perspective, right? My thoughts had yet to successfully expel Professor Lupin's words from my conscience. "Re-write your book", he'd said. While this was extremely good and profound advice, application of such advice was easier said than done.

Well, at least some good was coming out of this. Since my social life had slowed, my studies had picked up nicely. Just because I liked to learn, didn't mean I was always the best student. Family life had been rough before coming to Hogwarts. I guess that was a perk of being here as well. While I loved my family deeply, my parents and younger brother could act legally insane sometimes. Most of the time lately. Surprisingly, it wasn't my sibling who drove me crazy; it was usually my parents, or rather my mom. She was a great lady, just not such a great mom. And my dad and I had gotten on terribly until just recently. High school had made me a lot more mature so me and him got along much better now than we did while I was in middle school and going through things like my cheesy 'rebel/punk phase'.

Anyways…I guess that had been a huge reason for the constant juvenile wish of an easy way out. My easy way out had a name: Hogwarts. Right now, I wasn't liking my easy way out so much.

"Re-write your story."

The phrase whispered itself to me once more and I thought 'Maybe that's just what I should do…'

Around sunset I realized I was going to be late for the feast. I wasn't used to having long legs, but I'll tell ya it makes running a lot more efficient. I was running up the steps of the castle within ten minutes, which really wasn't bad for the distance I was covering in sprints. By the time I was skidding through the doors and around the corner to the great hall, I had tracked in a whole trail of dirt and caused the grandiose Victorian carpet in front of the doors to go tragically crooked. Speaking of crooked…

"Halt!" a hoarse voice bellowed at me as I ran for the Great Hall. Filch. I knew Mrs. Norris had had it in for me the other day. The sudden jolt of shock had caused me to fall flat on my ass on the marble floor just ten feet short of the Great Hall. Sighing I stood, my rear feeling broken.

"I'm sorry sir, but I was just trying to get to the feas"-

"Running in my halls, tracking in dirt over my floors. I just swept up for Merlin's sake! Can't keep anything orderly for five minutes!" he was muttering like a mad man as he hobbled towards me and shaking with fury all the way. "And why were you late in the first place! All students were supposed to be back from Hogsmeade long before now. Where were you?"

"You don't understand sir; I was down by the lake. I lost track of time is all, I was just"-

"Don't tell me I don't understand. I understand fully! You think because you're new that you're above everyone else, don't have to follow the rules. As if they don't apply to you. Well, just to show you that they do, I'm giving you detention…" he smiled at me with the kind of misplaced evil that gave you sore eyes… "On Friday night."

"Friday! But I have to be at practice on Friday. It's quidditch on Saturday!"

"Exactly! Maybe next time you'll be a little more conscious of your actions. Now get in the Hall, you're already late."

Amazed, I turned and rolled my eyes as I made my towards the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore was giving a speech and I felt hard pressed to make myself scarce. Every seat was taken except for the usual empty bit at the end. I situated myself there and tried to act as though this didn't bother me. Dinner was barely acknowledged by my stomach. I wanted to go up to my dorm to finish my homework before the raid commenced just after dinner, but realized that was impossible, for it would mean inevitably running across Sirius Black or at the very least not being able to guarantee my innocence. How many people would believe my being away from the feast and in Gryffindor tower were both pure coincidence?I wouldn't have. So I widdled away at least an hour playing with my fork and thinking about how much I detested rhubarb. Finally I figured I had a duty to at least tell Oliver I couldn't make it to practice. There was nothing I wanted less. Not only was I disappointing him again, I had to do it in front of the rest of the team.

My mind wasn't aware of where my steps were taking me and it seemed I'd reached him as soon as I started. Their laughter died down and, one by one, each turned to stare.

'Staring is rude.' The juvenile streak in me wanted to say.

"What do you want?" Katie asked, her voice cool as always. Sighing, I refrained from acknowledging her comment and turned to Wood who was sitting right in front of me.

"Oliver, I can't make it to practice on Friday."

"Good." I heard Alicia mutter just loud enough for me to hear.

Oliver frowned at her and then turned back to me. The frown remained.

"I um, I got a detention." God was this embarrassing. I never got detentions, ever. I was usually the stick in my muddy group of friends. Plain and simple, I avoided trouble. The only time I ever served something even pathetically resembling detention was when I had to stay in from recess in the sixth grade for not tucking in my shirt…What can I say? It made me look stupid.

"Nice one." Katie snorted sarcastically through a smile. Trying to ignore her still, I just continued to talk to Oliver.

"Filch made it for Friday on purpose. There was nothing I could do." I shrugged apathetically. Defenselessly is more like it. I wasn't in the mood for a fight.

Apparently, they were.

"Good for him." Chirped Alicia. This could be no longer ignored.

"Okay," I turned to her, "Last time I checked you were a chaser, not the quidditch captain."

She gave a hollow laugh, "Don't tell me about being a chaser; you're the sorriest excuse for one any of us have ever seen."

Oliver sighed and turned to her again, "Do you realize that between you and Katie, I haven't even gotten a word in? Honestly, you're going to get yourself a detention if you don't watch it." That immediately shut her up. Once more Oliver turned to me.

"Tell me it had nothing to do with the Slytherins." His words were much calmer than I had expected. Leadership really was a strong point of his and I wasn't just impressed, I was a little comforted that at least some one knew what they were doing around here and could keep a level head. Most of the time.

In respect, all I did was shake my head 'no'.

"Good, now if you'll excuse us." With that he simply turned around and acted as if I had already gone.

"Of all the stupid, monotonous things…" I was muttering madly to myself on the way back to the tower Friday night. "Folding towels in the prefects' bathroom! Honestly! Who needs that many towels! Certainly not Percy." I'd lost track of the number of white fluffy rectangles after about 38. My mind had been adamant to wander. Not so much about anything here at Hogwarts, as back home. It had been more than three weeks now and I was very much homesick. True, three weeks had been the amount of time I'd spent away from everyone in Great Britain over the summer. But this was obviously different.

That's not to say I hadn't thought about Hogwarts life at all. I'd had a long time to think, after all. Three hours to be exact. Three hours of my least favorite chore. Folding and taking care of laundry with a picture of a mermaid who laughed at every joke Moaning Myrtle made at my expense. Ooh I hate Filch. Oh well, at least it wasn't scrubbing bed pans. Poor Ronald Weasley was taking up that chore tonight in his own detention. Even still…my arms were killing me.

The other night had been incredibly more entertaining than it probably should have been. But after all, the thought of a frustrated, well meaning Sirius Black stirring up so much fuss…I dunno, it was amusing…in a very dry sort of way. Only now, no one would shut up about it and the subject was getting annoying fast.

Then there was the quidditch practice I had been missing. I knew what the announcements were and so it really wasn't that big of a deal. We were playing Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin; I had known that for a while. Everything everyone had said the other night, no matter how short the conversation was, had meant something to me. Sure I was reading too much into things, I'd be the first one to admit it. But that didn't make the internal nudging go away. Besides, we had been training passionately because of the nearing match and I had been getting better at flying. Playing quidditch was still going shaky, but the actual flying was becoming less dreadful and more relaxing. Oliver's words of 'knowing that's where he belonged' were beginning to make some sense. It really was peaceful up there in the air. Well, for the first couple of seconds anyway.

However as the winds howled on outside, I grew somewhat appreciative of being inside, dry and warm. The weather had been more gruesome everyday that week. The last mildly normal day we'd had had been Halloween. The dramatic tension in the school had been nothing short of comical to watch as the week grew on actually. Harry's very movements were being monitored by loyal Gryffindors (I guess that was all of them, actually) afraid, with reason, of a Slytherin attack on the seeker.

As much as I had to complain about, I appreciated a lot more about being at Hogwarts than it might seem. The view I couldn't help but eat up at every chance I got from the castle windows. My classes proved to be a lot more interesting (not to mention half life threatening) than standard muggle classes. With more interest, came more actual learning and that meant something to me. After all, I'd never needed friends. I'd spent the first 8 years of my life devoid of them all together and even the ones I gained there after weren't exactly what one would call true. I hate most of them to date actually. My best friends I didn't acquire until high school, even if I'd known most of them for much longer than that. The thing was, good friends make a person a human.

Spending my days talking mostly to myself and teachers wasn't such a bad way to live. It was just…that was actually a step down from life back home, not to mention it was nothing like I'd expected. Chase had everything. Good looks, a position on the house team, good grades, she could do magic, she even lived in a fucking castle in what I'd hypothesized had to be highland Scotland. For God's sake what was wrong with this equation?

It was in the prefects' bathroom that I started to realize: maybe the formula fan girl authors thought worked out perfectly in the wizarding world made even less sense than it might in real life. And then I started to honestly question myself and Chase. Would I really want to be friends with a little Miss Perfect who embarrassed me more times than not? Not that the embarrassment was Chase's fault. That could easily be linked to my muggle ways.

'Just a few more corners to round and I can go to sleep.' Repetition of this thought was all that kept me plucking away. Really, more drama was the last thing I had been expecting. But more drama is just what I got. A whole heaping spoonful. Albeit indirectly.

Just about to turn the second to last corner, I could hear two voices animatedly in contention.

"What did you just say to me?" I was torn someplace between shock and a sarcastic "Of course" when I recognized Wood's voice. My footwork stopped shy of the corner and I listened. Yep, I was still a Ravenclaw at heart, always adamant to gain new information.

"You heard me." …Alicia. He was arguing with Alicia Oh yes, this was gunna be good.

"Of course I heard you; I just can't believe you said it."

"Why? You know it's true." She was mocking him and I couldn't help feeling a little defensive. Things between Oliver and myself were anything but peachy, but that didn't mean I'd stopped caring.

"Alicia, look. You're one of my finest players and I am proud to have you on my team. But get that into your head. It's my team. What Chase does or doesn't do is none of your concern and until you're captain it will remain none of your concern."

"I'm just looking out for my team; she's keeping us away from the cup."

"And I appreciate your concern, but again, it's my team not yours."

"Well then act like a proper captain and do something!"

At this point, I wasn't sure whether I wanted the boot or not. Let's be honest people, I sucked at the game. I didn't want to be there if I was just making a fool of myself. But more than that I didn't want Alicia to win. So I guess it was down to what I wanted and my pride. How about that? Not just cliché, but stupid too.

It was then that I realized a pause had ensued when my thoughts had. Then Oliver spoke up, his voice quiet and steadily amused.

"Why are you so jealous of her?"

"I'm not jealous. She's an embarrassment."

"No but before that…when I first let her on the team. You never did want her on."

"Because I knew she was trouble. Have you even figured out what's made her snap all of a sudden?" 'That wasn't fair, she changed the subject…'

He sighed, unsure of himself and tired.

"She's going through a lot right now is all I can figure."

"Yah? Well figure this: She's playing the helpless little princess so her knight in scarlet quidditch robes will come and save her. She wants your damn attention."

My eyes couldn't help but roll. To my sheer delight and surprise, I heard Oliver chuckle.

"She wants attention does she? Look who's talking!" He had a good point. I hadn't even thought of that. "Bottom line is she stays, get over it."

"Yah she stays, so you can flirt with her some more!"

He dove around this argument and started taking steps to throw in the towel.

"I've had this same conversation with Chase. You both need to settle your differences and get over your selves because if you're petty cat fights hold us back from that cup, so help me God I'll hex you both." He was staying pretty calm through out this and I thought that at least had to count for something. Brownie points for maturity?

"And what about you and her? Are you going to get over each other as well? Or does that rule about a captain not getting involved with his team mates not stand any longer?" her voice sounded genuinely hurt now and for the first time it made me feel like we were on equal ground.

I recognized his sigh again. She was stressing him out. We both were. The difference was-and I was just starting to realize this-that things like this humbled me for a bit. Made me stop thinking about myself and realize who I was hurting with my selfish actions. Feelings like that were stronger than teeny bopper, fan girl crushes. These characters weren't just two dimensional descriptions and profiles up for grabs. They were people. It wasn't something to take lightly, molding their lives and emotions into fan fiction.

And then it made me see: I really cared about him. Past the stupid fantasies. Past the good looks. Past the popularity. Past Hogwarts. And I guess it had never really stopped at the pages of the books. I had always cared for these characters. I'd just been too wrapped up in a fantasy to realize that I'd sugarcoated, assumed and romanticized a lot of real life that happened, even here in the wizarding world.

"If you cared about me that much, you'd just want me to be happy."

I heard him stalk off. Or rather, I heard someone stalk off and then a feminine sounding, jaw clenched scream seconds after the portrait to the Gryffindor Common room closed. Then another set of steps stalking off.

I got practically no sleep that night. Mostly because the pain of lifting and folding towels for three hours had finally caught up with me and finding a position to rest my arms in that would make them stop screaming in pain was impossible. Responsibility was also shared with my hope of rekindling some kind of friendship with Oliver being slightly encouraged.

I sat in the Great Hall the next morning barely alert of my surroundings. Not the best stature for playing extreme team sports. I was forced to watch as Alicia tried to comfort Oliver repeatedly as he sat anxiously, not making any attempts at breakfast. Probably deciding it was best not to put in what he couldn't hold down. I myself, though possessing a strong stomach, had always been at the mercy of my weak nerves, and had vomited in the bathroom before coming downstairs. So there I sat, carefully sipping at my pumpkin juice while listening to Alicia try to get back on Oliver's good side.

"It's going to be a tough one." His knee was bouncing wildly out of nervousness and his look was tense as he watched the windows and bewitched ceiling.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, lightly touching his arm, "We don't mind a bit of rain."

'A bit of rain? It's torrential outside you whore.' I kept my thoughts to myself as I kept an eye on them both and found myself hard pressed not be sick again.

Although I was still in exile of their group, I had been allowed to sit (while still ignored) beside my team this morning because of the circumstances. Wood had already filled me in on the change of which house we'd be playing and I had taken it in semi-calmly. My usual effort to act naturally shocked and angry was at bay from fatigue and the knowledge that it couldn't possibly really matter what I said to him at the moment.

His usual pep talk never came. It tried to come, but his mouth would open and nothing would come out as we all got silently changed and the gale outside made its presence known. I liked the locker rooms. They were comforting, kind of like a sanctuary. Especially in this weather. The design made a lot of sense and made me wonder how far back Slytherin and Gryffindor's rivalry really went. The actual building containing the locker rooms was pretty hefty as it actually had five rooms within its walls. Each house had a corner for its changing area and they all shared one shower room which was situated in the middle and split down the center so as not to mix genders. Gryffindor and Slytherin were in opposite corners, as far away from one another as possible.

Taking a deep breath, I took up my broom and followed my team out into the howling storm. The wind was so strong we were walking sideways onto the pitch. It had sort of scared me a little, but I made do, calming my frenzied nerves with the sane reminder that I was only a reserve. I wouldn't see play at all.

This didn't make sitting out in the open on wooden benches any less uneasy for me. I sat; tense, awaiting thunder and lightning all over the place but it didn't come. I guess I'd forgotten how scarce that was in the U.K. compared to the lightning capital of the world, Florida, my home. Rain was no stranger there, nor were howling winds. Sitting outside in it with no shelter…yah that was definitely a new experience for me.

I couldn't see much of what was happening in the air, but from what I did get glimpses of and from the snippets of commentary I caught on the wind I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or enviously resentful. In about fifteen minutes, we were 50 points up and Alicia had scored four out of five goals. As much as I resented her, I couldn't deny that I was wowed by her skills. She had every right to be bragging. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

The first flash of lightening coincided with the far off sounding screech of Madame Hooch's whistle. Wood had called a time out. The team gathered under a mass of umbrellas near the benches, so I didn't have to squelch far. As Harry told Wood of how distraught he was becoming because he couldn't see through wet glasses, Hermione Granger seemingly popped up out of nowhere. A simple spell allowed the glasses to now repel water. False hope. They all took off with renewed optimism.

With all the non canon events that had occurred numerous times, even I had lulled myself into a false sense that there was a chance we might win this game. I allowed the naïve thoughts into my brain mainly for the purpose of not wanting to have to see Oliver after the game. After all, anything was possible, right?

But then, everything seemed to be happening at once. Cedric was streaking after the snitch, Harry followed. Cold water seemed to be filling me up from the inside, I grew lightheaded and the last thing I remembered was seeing a scarlet streak fall from the sky and a roar from every corner of the stadium that overpowered even the cry of the winds.

Everything was blurry when I first opened my eyes and began sitting up. I was in the hospital wing lying in one of the beds. At first I was thrown into absolute confusion. Where was I? Who were all these people in the beds next to me…wait, that blonde girl…I knew her….Jemma! Half the reserves were in beds as well and I quickly registered them as such. We must have fainted from being on the field when the…what had that been?

Dementors? It couldn't have been anything else.

Everything from the books was coming back to me. How could I have forgotten the reason we lost the game?

Slowly sitting up, I got to my feet and made my groggy way two beds down to the huddle of scarlet robes surrounding one of the beds. Harry. He was awake and the rest of the team was explaining to him about his broom. Poor thing. All those memories of his mother and he looses the game as well…

"Where is Wood?" he asked weakly, suddenly realizing his absence. I hadn't noticed either.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

I remembered that line from the books. One of my all time favorites. Although it normally was mere entertainment, it had me thinking now. Harry didn't need me around, he barely knew me. I wasn't even in his year. Oliver on the other hand…

I was quiet as I left the room but tore down to the locker rooms as soon as I was clear of the corridors; slipping all over the grounds in the mud the rain had left behind as carnage.

Clutching my knees, I was bent double trying to catch my breath before I entered the locker room. Walking in, I didn't see anyone on our side and progressed towards the other end of the showers. Oliver, I told myself, had to be in that shower stall. The only one running was closer to the Hufflepuff locker rooms than ours. I shrugged it off. He obviously had wanted to be left alone. Water splashed hard against the tile floor. Thick, muggy steam danced around me in clouds, getting into my skin, clothes and lungs.

It took a while to muster the right words and the will to say them.

"I know this probably isn't the best time to say this." I forced the words to be loud and clear as I stood outside his stall door. "But I need you to hear it and I'm too afraid to wait until you come back to the castle because I know you'll want to sulk in your room alone. I figure here you can't go anywhere…" I smiled nervously and I hoped it showed in my tone.

"Chase?" his voice was watered down and sputtery.

"Yeah, Oliver. Just hear me out, okay? Just let me say this and then you can tell me off all you want. But this needs saying first.

"I know I'm not the best quidditch player. In fact I'm probably the worst Gryffindor has ever seen…and I know we don't seem to have as much in common as we did three weeks ago…I pick fights with your team and its rivals…I even pick stupid fights with you…I-I know I'm not perfect. And I know I've let you down in a lot of ways…The point is I want to be better. Whether that's at quidditch, my social life or between you and me.

"I can't go back and change what I said to you, all I can do is apologize and hope that you forgive me. Just know that I didn't mean what I said before. I wasn't thinking clearly when I said it and I hate myself for it. And what happened today, it's not your fault. I've been watching you with your team and you're an amazing captain. You're dedicated and passionate and honest and fair. Everything that I wish I could be. But I'm just not and for that I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

My heart was fluttering and my cheeks were catching red from the guts it had taken to say all that. I just hoped it was worth it. At the very least, he knew how I felt and that was worth so much right then.

The water turned off. A few moments later the stall door swung open. I couldn't see anything for a second or two because of the steam surrounding us. But then it cleared and before me stood…

Cedric fucking Diggory dripping wet with a towel around his waist.

What the hell…? This had to be a joke. He must've stayed afterwards to take a longer shower and I guessed I had to have missed Oliver all together.

"Cedric?"

"Hello Chase." he seemed annoyingly amused.

"Umm, hi…I am really sorry…I honestly thought you were…"

"Oliver?" he smiled at me kindly, obviously taking pity on the pathetic creature that had just poured her heart out to the wrong guy.

"Yah…" if I hadn't been blushing before, I most certainly was now.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere. I didn't know you and him were having problems."

"Yah, well…That's probably an understatement." I grumbled.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled, "You're a sweet girl, I'm sure you'll work this whole thing out. It'll be fine. As long as you really care about each other, that's all you need."

What a sweetheart. This guy didn't even know me and yet here he was, offering me advice. I now felt guilty that such a wonderful person had to die so young. Standing there, seeing the life in his eyes, seeing how much he appreciated life, how optimistic he was. It was inspiring. I was being inspired by a Hufflepuff.

"I do care about him, ya know. I just can't seem to ever be able to tell him."

"Well, here's your chance." He pointed over my shoulder. Most of the steam had cleared and there was Oliver, back in his uniform, his robes over his shoulder and his broom leaning idly against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot and I knew he'd been crying over the cup earlier. Had he been there the whole time?

"I'll leave you two alone. Good luck, Chase." His smile was hopeful as he patted my shoulder before traipsing off.

I turned to Oliver, walking closer to him.

"I heard everything you said." his words were soft, tired with no real effort behind them.

"And?" Sweet relief. The exhaustion of getting all those feelings out had left me in half forgetfulness of what I had actually said and I was thankful for not having to repeat the speech.

His answer was almost immediate and fully sufficient. Before I knew what had happened, he'd leaned down and his lips were kissing mine.