The sun was beginning to rise on the now ruined school. Survivors of the ordeal were retrieving the dead and laying them in the Great Hall. Once a place of celebration was now a makeshift hospital and morgue.

Oliver was among the survivors. With the help of Neville Longbottom they placed the body of Colin Creevy with the rest of the dead. To see so many lives cut short was tragic, and he looked around at all the mourning friends and families.

A glint of gold caught his eye and he looked for where it had come from. He walked along the rows of the dead and suddenly he stopped cold with recognition.

Aderyn.

Her once bright hair was dusty and matted with blood, previously bright blue eyes cloudy and vacant.

"Rinni..." he gasped, falling to his knees," Oh god Rinni no..."

His chest felt like it was being squeezed by a mountain troll, all the air leaving him in a desperate sob. Clutching her to his chest he rocked her and cried, all the memories flooding his mind.

Ryn as a five year old refusing to cry when she had broken a finger during practice... the summers they had spent together before Hogwarts playing one on one Quidditch from dusk until dawn...the blue Quaffle and her smiling face greeting him every year after Christmas... waking up in the Infirmary on multiple occasions to see her there...Ryn turning into a Snidget in fifth year and how she had been so delicate in his palm...their first kiss...her whispering "I love you" as they curled up together on a sofa in sixth year...the day he had proposed to her on the Quidditch Pitch their last year of school and her smile, her laugh, the smell of hazelnut coffee in the mornings...it was all gone.

Snidgets are such delicate little birds, but their hearts are big and true.

The funeral was small and private, just as their wedding had been, only close friends and family. Everyone else had left except Oliver, Brianne and Charlotte. With a shared look they each pulled a tiny paper bird from their pockets. The birds had been charmed to fly on their own, and on each one the friends had written something personal that they had wished to tell the deceased witch.

Charlotte: "For your wildfire personality and encouraging me to follow my dreams."

Brianne: "For showing me how strong I am and for being such a loyal friend."

Oliver: "For loving me. And Quidditch. I love you my Snidget."

15 years later:

"Aderyn! You forgot something!" Bri called to her 11 year old daughter. The young witch dashed across the platform to her mother, taking the green book with its blue wax seal on the cover. Despite years of fading the title could still be read: Quidditch Through the Ages.

She kissed her daughter on the top of her head as she took the book, "Now go, go. You don't want to miss the train."

Tears welled in her eyes as she watched the train carrying her child until she couldn't see it anymore.

'Ryn should be here, too. Seeing off her children...' she thought, an old ache rising in her chest.

They should have been neighbors and mothers of children roughly the same age. Bri had named her daughter in her friend's memory, hoping that the young girl would have the strength of her namesake.

Charlotte whistled a tune, a tangle of thread weaving and stitching itself on a mannequin behind her.

The phone rang and she answered it, "Golden Snitch fine Quidditch fashion and uniforms. This is Charlotte, how can I help you?"

She jotted down a name and a number then hung up. Sighing, she looked around the shop. All sorts of sweaters, robes and just about everything imaginable in a variety of colors lined the walls and hung on racks. Her love of design and memory of her best friend had led her to opening her own shop, quickly becoming the desired place to purchase Quidditch uniforms, supplies, and team memorabilia.

In the back of the store, behind the checkout counter was a Quidditch robe in a display case. It was green with "Wood 19" embroidered on the back, a picture of its owner framed beside it, and at the base, was a worn blue leather Quaffle with a Golden Snitch about the size of a Galleon stitched into it.

Oliver stepped out onto the Pitch with the rest of Puddlemere United. He had been Captain of the team for 5 years now, and the only thing that would have made it better was if he had a certain Chaser playing for him.

Today they had a match and he wanted everyone warmed up and ready. He had just turned to address the team when the Seeker, who had eyes like a hawk, gasped.

"Look!" she pointed to the goal hoops nearest them.

In the middle of the center hoop, no bigger than a walnut, and glistening gold in the sun, was a Snidget. It fluffed it's feathers while the team watched it, fascinated.

"It's a Snidget."

"What's it doing here?"

"I had no idea they migrated out here..."

"Thought those were extinct?"

Oliver stared at the creature, a million memories coming to the surface.

The little bird swooped down over its audience, giving a musical chirp, circled once, and flew off in a flash of gold.

"Looks like we're going to have a great match." he said, finally drawing the team's attention back to the matter at hand, "Now, I know that the New Zealanders are tough, but..."

In the innermost pocket of his blue robes, there's a picture. Its edges are worn and the corners long since rounded and dog-eared. The blonde witch has a smile that lights up her whole face, her dark blue eyes are clear and bright. She doesn't blink, or move, but she doesn't need to. Captured in that one, perfect moment, her expression says, in a thousand different ways, "I love you."

And in the farthest corner of the Hogwarts library, tucked in a drawer that refuses to open, is a letter. The blue wax seal that holds it closed bears the symbol of a Snidget. The parchment is slightly yellowed with age, but it still holds inside it three slips of parchment bearing the dreams of three young friends, just one more secret within the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.