(PoA) CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: The Match for the Cup
Before long, May had arrived, and with it came the final Quidditch match of the season—Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Ellie ate breakfast with Oliver, Harry, and Ron. Hermione had lingered back in the common room to study, though she had assured Ellie that she was "doing better" than she had been before they had their heart-to-heart. They chatted amiably about how much they all hated Slytherin, and Ellie tried not to focus on the fact that the twins were only a few rows away from them.
The world normal kept popping into her head as she ate. Was this her new "normal?" Was her old "normal"—sitting, laughing, and troublemaking with the twins—gone forever?
And that was when it hit her—where would she even live that summer?
She knew, of course, where she wanted to live. Ever since finding out the truth about Peter Pettigrew, she had hoped that Sirius would find a way to catch him and prove himself innocent to the masses. If that happened, she could go and live with him. She wouldn't need the Burrow.
But school was almost over, and Sirius was no closer to catching Peter. So what was she going to do?
There was no good answer, of course. Molly and Arthur would surely take her if she asked, but could she handle being so close to Fred—essentially living with him—for an entire summer? Would it even be fair to Fred?
But what were her other options? Would her mother even be willing to take her?
"Oliver," she said a few minutes later as they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. She couldn't ask him about her summer plans, of course; it wasn't as if she'd be moving in with Oliver. But not knowing where she'd live that summer wasn't Ellie's only lingering question; there was also the matter of whether she and Oliver would still be together. "Do you ever think about what we're going to do when you leave?"
He looked frustratingly amused by her question. "I'm leaving in a month, babe. Of course, I've thought about it."
"Oh." She felt her cheeks turn pink at that. "And?"
He shrugged. "And… I figured we'd talk about it when you were ready. You know I like being with you, Ellie—I s'pose it's really more your call than mine. Depending on what you're feeling for… certain… other people."
Her eyes searched instinctively around for Fred. He was well out of hearing range, but was within eyeshot—a few dozen yards back from them, walking alongside his twin.
"Second question," she told Oliver, not allowing herself to think too hard about his last answer just yet.
Oliver waited patiently.
"If he and I ever became friends again," she said, eyes still lingering on Fred, "do you think you could handle it?"
When she turned her gaze onto Oliver again, she was surprised to find that his expression was almost entirely unreadable. For the first time during this conversation, he didn't look entirely supportive and submissive. He actually had to consider this one.
"Let me put it this way," he finally said. "I know the guy makes you happy. I know how close you were. If you told me you two had found a way to be friends with you again, I'd be happy for you. Because I know how much he means to you."
He wasn't done just yet, she could tell.
"But I also know that, despite whatever the wanker told you, he's crazy about you. I don't know why he turned you down, but I'm quite certain he regrets it. And I think, if you two become friends again… whatever ridiculous reason he had not to be with you will fade away."
His words were hard to hear for more reasons than one. Surely he was wrong; Fred himself had given her every reason to believe otherwise. But if he wasn't…
Well, it certainly wasn't fair to Oliver, the hope that filled her heart at the thought.
"So I guess, again," continued Oliver, "it depends on you. I could live with you being his friend; I could even live with knowing he still had feelings for you. But if you were to tell me you weren't sure you were over him—that, if he asked, you'd go back to him… Well, that would hurt, Ellie. That, I wouldn't take so well."
It was more than fair. He'd already been through enough of being her second-choice guy; she couldn't ask him to deal with even more.
She just wasn't sure what to say to him.
If Fred went to her at that exact moment and professed his love to her, what would she say? She would probably take him back as a friend, but could her heart handle opening itself up to him yet again?
"Don't worry," Oliver said, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I don't expect an answer right this second, love. Let's focus on kicking Slytherin's arse, and we'll figure the rest out by the time I graduate."
"As you all know," Oliver said a few minutes later to his team as they gathered in a circle around him on the Quidditch pitch, "this is my last game with you at Hogwarts. No matter what happens, I want you all to know that you've been an incredible, talented, and unforgettable team, and I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to play my final game with."
She hadn't expected herself to tear up at Oliver's speech, but she did. No matter what was or wasn't going on between them, he was an incredible captain, and this was an emotional day for all of them.
"That being said," added Oliver as his cocky grin returned, "it's my last game and my last shot at the Cup, and I'll be damned if I let those bloody Slytherins take it from me. Who's with me?"
They all burst into laughter, cheers, and high-fives at that—even Fred and George. For the briefest instant, Ellie's eyes met Fred's, and they were both smiling, and it almost, almost, felt like he was smiling at her.
She held onto that feeling as she mounted her broom and soared into the air.
It was the hardest match Ellie had ever played, but she had never seen her team play so well. Within minutes, Ellie, Angelina, and Katie were juggling the Quaffle between each other like professionals, ball completely out of reach of the Slytherins. Fred and George were miles ahead of the Bludgers, never letting them get anywhere near their players.
But the Slytherins were playing dirtier than ever, and before long, Ellie found herself sandwiched between two particularly disgusting Slytherin Chasers who were quite nearly ripping her arms off to get the Quaffle out of her grip.
They tried overpowering her and steering her in circles, as they had done in the past, but even with only one hand on her broom, Ellie maintained enough control to steer in the right direction. Unfortunately, she knew better than to get anywhere near their dirty Keeper when sandwiched between two equally foul players.
"Ellie!" Katie shouted at her from nearby. "Drop it! Ange will catch it!"
Ellie started to drop the ball, but, feeling both Chasers reach for it, she quickly recoiled, hugging it closer to her chest. She pulled upward on her broom, attempting to do a tight, midair flip to lose them, but they remained glued to her sides.
Seeming to grow impatient with her, one of them gave her a sharp kick to the calf; she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. The other rammed into her, hard, from the side; she rammed right back, trying to ignore the blinding pain.
"Katie!" she shouted, and Katie as close as she could to Ellie, ready and eager.
Ellie glanced upwards as subtly as she could, not wanting to reveal her plan to the Slytherins. Katie nodded and slowly lifted upwards so that she was just above the group of three. Ellie pulled her broom upwards again, even more sharply this time, and jerked up her hand with the Quaffle so suddenly that neither Slytherin had time to grab for it. Katie snatched it successfully, then passed it immediately to Angelina, who scored the goal.
"Think that was clever, do you?" snapped Adrian Pucey, one of Ellie's least favourites of the Slytherin Chasers, at Ellie.
And before she knew it, he grabbed her by her right wrist and zoomed forward so fast, she actually felt her arm coming dislodged from her shoulder.
She did cry out this time, broom spiraling down and out of control as she gripped her arm to her chest. She could hear Madam Hooch's whistle frantically blowing as she announced a penalty for the dirty move, but she could barely make out the shape of Angelina taking her place in front of the goal.
"Ellie!" shouted George as both twins zoomed over to her. "Are you okay? Do you need to sit it out?"
"No," she said quickly as she blinked back the tears of pain. "I'll be fine!"
As she waved them impatiently away with her good arm, George reluctantly followed her command. But Fred, to her surprise, lingered.
"I'll be fine," she said again. Her voice was different this time—softer.
His eyes glinted ever so slightly in the light of the sun. "You say that a lot, you know."
She didn't miss a beat. The pain was making her see things quite clearly. "I don't lie to you, Fred. I can't. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
She knew, watching her words sink in for him, that nothing was over between them. She knew that her answer to Oliver couldn't be yes. She knew that this boy loved her. Maybe he would never act on it; maybe he would always be too afraid. But if he ever did…
Well, she loved him, too.
"Fred!" George shouted, zooming over to them. "Bludgers! C'mon!"
Before he turned away from her, Fred gave Ellie one last, tiny look that almost resembled a smile. And then he was gone again.
She glanced around the pitch, taking everything in. Harry and Draco had both spotted the Snitch; the chase for it had begun. Gryffindor was up by fifty—not bad, but not enough to save them if Draco got the Snitch before Harry.
Angelina had the Quaffle, and she had managed to shake the Chaser nearest her. She was making her way to the goal, but there was a third Chaser waiting for her. Ellie looked around for Katie, but the other two were blocking her.
Heaving a groan at the mere thought of trying to catch a ball and score with her bad arm, Ellie streaked over to Angelina. It was Oliver's last game; if she couldn't give him her heart, she could at least give him this.
Angelina saw her and hesitated, seeming to fear that it was a recipe for disaster with her bad arm.
"I've got it!" Ellie promised her teammate, lifting both hands and balancing herself with her legs and torso only. "Trust me!"
With a reluctant grimace, Angelina tossed her the ball.
Ellie caught it with another weak, painful groan, then threw it straight at the goal, knowing that timing was the only thing she had on the Slytherin Keeper. Sure enough, the ball went straight through the hoop, baffling the Keeper who had expected her to fly toward him.
Gryffindors burst into cheers as Madam Hooch prepared to toss the Quaffle back in.
Katie had managed to shake her players then, and she caught the ball miles before the Slytherins. Angelina was at her side in seconds, and they volleyed it to each other, making their way toward the goal. Ellie circled around them, grateful not to have to partake, and again they scored.
Seventy. Eighty more points before they'd be safe from Draco. Ellie glanced down, trying to spot the Seekers. They were neck and neck, and flying inches above the ground, the little gold ball only feet in front of them. There was no world where they'd score eighty points in time; Harry had to catch it.
And he did.
The stands burst into cheers like never before. Everyone on the team streaked over to each other, joining in a midair group hug full of nothing but love. Voices shouted over each other, everyone either cheering for Harry or demanding to know how daft Ellie was and how much pain she was in.
"You really just had to keep playing, didn't you?" Oliver asked her fondly as they touched back down to the ground. "Can't do things the easy way."
"It was your last game," she reminded him. "It was the Cup."
There were tears in his eyes. There were tears in everyone's eyes. She didn't think she had seen Harry this happy in a long time, either.
"Get yourself in the damn hospital wing, beautiful," Oliver told her, kissing her deeply. "I'll meet you there. Got to dote on Harry a bit first."
She smiled as he and Harry walked away, but her heart felt heavy. He had kissed her too deeply. She meant too much to him. She was going to hurt him; it was only a matter of time.
Fred and George made their way over to her next, both of them smiling.
"You should be in the hospital wing," George told her. "Also, you're an idiot."
"Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Like either of you would've done any differently."
"Probably true," said Fred, and it felt so good to be talking to him again, "but if you don't get your arse in the hospital wing in the next thirty seconds, one of us is going to kill you."
She smiled so wide, she was sure, in that moment, that the smile would never leave her face.
"Okay," she said. "I'll see you guys soon."
Lots of feels in this chapter, and lots of growing up on Ellie's part. Anyone actually starting to feel bad for Oliver, or is everyone just ready for him to graduate already? The end is nearing closer and closer, and it's going to be quite a doozy, so don't miss a moment of it - and don't forget to review and follow!
