(PoA) CHAPTER TWENTY: Minus the Borderline
When she got back to the common room, Oliver was still there, waiting for her.
"I half-expected you to be hand-in-hand with Weasley when you got back," he admitted when she crawled through the window, broom in hand. Other than Oliver, the common room was empty. "Thought maybe our almost-kiss pushed him over the brink and he finally admitted his feelings for you."
She stared sadly up at him, feeling twistedly amused by that comment. Even Oliver had known about their feelings for each other? Was there anyone who didn't?
Did it matter? He may have had enough feelings for her to kiss her in a "moment of weakness," but he clearly didn't have enough to actually want to be with her.
"Hey," Oliver said softly, coming over to her. He could see that she'd been crying, she could tell. Or was she still crying? "What happened?"
How could she tell him what had happened when she could barely process it herself? How could she admit out loud that her relationship—even her friendship—with the person she cared most about in the world had been shattered?
What was she even supposed to do from here?
He hadn't moved when she left the pit. In all likelihood, he was still there, but what if he was on his way back? She was overwhelmed with the urge to run upstairs, afraid of even the mere possibility of seeing Fred again. But if she went upstairs, she'd be alone. Her roommates would be asleep, and she'd have to close her eyes and pretend to sleep and relive that kiss, over and over and over again, while her cruel body stayed awake.
Or she could stay out here with Oliver.
She had to tell him. She'd hurt enough people already by denying her feelings for Fred. Neither Dean nor Harry had deserved to be her second-choice guys, nor did Oliver now.
"I'm in love with him."
Oliver's deep, green eyes darkened at that, but he didn't look altogether surprised. "I figured as much. At least on some level. I'm guessing it didn't go well, though? The, er… telling him?"
She shook her head.
"He's a bloody fool, Ellie. Why tell me, though? Why not just use me to get even—or to make yourself feel better?"
She couldn't quite decide whether she was amused or saddened by that question. Did he really think so little of himself—of how she felt about him? "Because I care about you, Ollie."
He smiled softly, coming over to her and taking her in his arms in a surprisingly tender hug. "I care about you, too, Ellie," he said softly into her hair. He pulled gently away from her, just enough to make eye contact, hands still around her, and added with a small grin, "But if you did want to use me, I wouldn't exactly mind."
She allowed him a small smile at that, despite the aching of her heart. A part of her wanted to do as he suggested. A part of her wanted to kiss him—maybe even to do more than kiss him. To know what it felt like to do those things with someone who didn't want to stop.
But not tonight. Tonight was for hurting.
"I can't."
He nodded, not looking entirely surprised. "I get it. Well, the offer stands—you know, if you change your mind. Remind me to hit that prat for messing up my shot with you."
But before he could leave the common room, she caught him by the arm.
"Could you just… stay with me?"
His expression softened, and he nodded. "Of course."
"My, my. What have we here?"
Ellie shot up off the couch, squinting in the morning light. She hadn't quite been able to fall asleep, but she had slipped into something resembling it while curled up against Oliver's chest. It wasn't the same as sleeping next to Fred, or even Harry, but she liked that it was different. Different was what she needed.
It was George who had spoken—George who was staring down at her with a half-amused, half-contemptuous look on his face.
"Tell me, Ellie," said Oliver, who had woken up at the same time as her. "Is this the twin who broke your heart last night, or the other one? I still have trouble telling them apart."
George's expression shifted at that, indicating to Ellie that Fred hadn't returned to his suite the night before—and hadn't told his twin anything. In spite of her anger toward him, she felt a pang of fear, too. Was he okay? The Forest wasn't exactly a safe place to sleep, especially with Dementors looming.
"The other one," she told Oliver as she rose groggily to her feet. "Take a walk with me?" she asked George.
George nodded, and Ellie gave Oliver a short, apologetic smile before heading out the portrait hole with him.
"I can't help feeling like you're leaving something out," George said a few minutes later in the courtyard when she was finished filling him in. "It just doesn't seem… possible."
"Oh, really?" she asked through gritted teeth. "Because he was always so eager to admit his feelings to me before last night?"
He sighed. "He was scared, Ellie. Do you have any idea how terrifying girls like you are to guys like us? At least... romantically speaking?"
She hated hearing that. She didn't want to be a girl like her if it meant distancing her from the people she cared about the most. "He was more than scared, George. He was borderline cruel." Minus the borderline.
"I'll talk to him."
"Don't," she said firmly. She reached for the clasp of her locket and snapped it off in one, painful swoop before she could change her mind. She handed it to George. "Use this to find him and make sure he's okay. Once you do, kindly tell him to leave me the hell alone."
"Come on." His brown eyes—so similar to his twin's, yet so different in the way that they looked at her—looked pleading. "Don't do this. Come with me, and you guys can talk it out. The guy's crazy about you. I'm sure there's some—"
"I will never forgive him for this," she interrupted. "Do you get that, George? Never. It's not that he rejected me; I'd already gotten used to that. It's the way he did it—kissing me, taking it back, then blaming me. Saying things he'll never be able to take back."
"I know. But surely didn't mean them. Surely he was just worried about your friendship."
There it was again. Surely.
"If he was worried about our friendship, he should done a better job of protecting it. We aren't friends anymore, George. We aren't anything."
George stayed silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his tone was sad, but accepting. "You know what this means for us, don't you?"
That was a tough question. She knew the answer, of course. There had never really been a George in her life without Fred; there had only been a Fred without George.
"I know," she said quietly. "But if there's a will, there's a way, right?"
He smiled weakly back at her, but she could tell they both knew their friendship was about to crumble to pieces.
"Oliver, though?" he asked as he rose to his feet. "You'd really do that to him?"
She rose to hers, too, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. "If you're really asking me that, then you still don't understand what Fred did to me."
When they got back to the common room, Oliver wasn't there anymore. Ellie climbed up the stairs to get showered and dressed for the day, trying to laugh and grin her way through her suitemates' usual teases for her being out all night.
"Happy Christmas, by the way," said Hermione when Ellie stepped out of the shower.
The words hit her surprisingly hard. She had almost entirely forgotten about the holiday in the midst of Hurricane Fred. "Right. Presents for all of you are in my trunk."
The girls swarmed around Ellie's trunk to retrieve their presents, then pulled out their own to give to her. As soon as they were finished, Ellie faced her dresser. It was time to change—in more ways than one.
Their words rang out in her ears, taunting her. This isn't a game, Ellie. You can't toy with me like this.
Do you have any idea how terrifying girls like you are to guys like us?
If that was who they wanted her to be, then so be it. Clearly the old version of Ellie wasn't working for her.
"No way!" squealed Lavender the second she saw Ellie fishing out the push-up bra that Ginny had gifted her for her birthday. "I thought that thing was going to be collecting dust for the rest of time!"
"Yeah," said Ellie shortly. "Can I borrow some clothes?"
She had never seen Lavender so elated.
She stepped downstairs with the rest of her suitemates about twenty minutes later, having grudgingly allowed Lavender to style her hair and even put a little makeup on her in addition to dressing her. She expected to join them for breakfast, but was surprised to find Oliver waiting for her, having showered and dressed, as well.
He let out a deep, low whistle when he saw her. Several other Gryffindors followed his gaze to her and seemed to have similar reactions. She hadn't allowed Lavender to get too crazy with the wardrobe—just a simple, black, V-neck sweater and a short, plaid skirt. But the neck swooped quite a bit lower than anything she normally wore, and thanks to Ginny's magical contraption, it revealed certain aspects of her that she wasn't exactly used to revealing.
"Christmas present to Lavender," she lied to Oliver as she and her friends came over to join him and his. "Letting her doll me up. Don't get used to it."
"Used to it?" he repeated as he slung a casual arm around her shoulders. "I'll be lucky if I ever stop picturing it, baby. Nicely done, Lavender."
It was the second time he had called her "baby;" the first had been a seemingly unintentional slip-up on the Quidditch field.
It wasn't unintentional now, though—nor was the arm he put around her. If she knew Oliver, he had done it half out of desire and half because of a certain twin that was lurking.
Sure enough, she turned her head just a few degrees behind her and caught the distinctive sight of two tall, blurry redheads making their way for the portrait hole.
She turned sharply back toward her friends, determined not to look at him—not to even think about him.
"Sorry," Lavender was saying, blinking from Oliver to Ellie in wide-eyed confusion. "Did I miss something? Ellie, have you finally come to your senses and said yes to Oliver Wood?"
Ellie really hated that term—come to your senses. The only thing that had truly made sense to her in the past three years was the way it had felt when Fred kissed her.
But that kiss had shattered her—made her feel unwanted and unloved. And Oliver… well… he made her feel just the opposite.
So she forced a smile, put her own arm around Oliver's waist, and said, "Yeah. I finally have."
I'm guessing a lot of you are pulling at your hair right about now... anyone actually sort of happy to see Oliver finally getting the girl after all this time? Fred's gonna have to pay some penance if he wants to get back in Ellie's good graces, don't you think? Drop your thoughts in a review, and tune back in soon for "The Shiny, New Toy." Thanks for reading!
