His life was over. That was it. The dream had died. He stared out the window in the Gryffindor Common Room in a great melancholy. What was the point anymore, if he didn't have Quidditch? Cancelled. He felt the urge to hunt down this heir of Slytherin and kick them in the teeth. How dare they attack students like this? AND GET QUIDDITCH CANCELLED! It had gone too far. Sure there would be next year. And Harry had had that mishap in the first match with that cursed bludger, and Alicia had quit… But couldn't he at least try this year? No. He was denied even that. Oliver stared at the light breeze that moved the newly unfurled leave, his face a picture of misery. The Common Room was surprisingly empty today. None of that mattered though. What was he meant to even do with his free time? He had nothing to plan for. Nobody to talk about Quidditch to. He pulled his knees up under his chin and sighed heavily.

"You're going to be late down to the Entrance Hall, Oliver. Mr. Filch doesn't let latecomers out, you know." Percy said, as he walked by. He was dressed in a hand-knitted mustard colour jumper with a large P on it. He could have sworn he saw that god-damned prefect's badge gleaming in the candle-chinked Common Room.

"Late for what?"

"It's the Hogsmeade weekend. I think this time Aquila Virgo Valentine will take discussing our prefect duties more seriously." Oliver staggered to his feet. It was the Hogsmeade weekend! How had he forgotten?! Quidditch. Every time he thought of it felt like a stab in the heart.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up Percy, she's going to be busy." Oliver said, as he darted towards the stairs to his dorm. Percy, annoyingly, followed.

"What do you mean? What do you know?" Percy had a very slight whine behind his voice that put Oliver's teeth on edge. He burst through the door to his room, and pulled a heavy red polo-neck jumper over his head, and threw on a coat.

"She's going with somebody else." Percy blocked the door when Oliver tried to get back out.

"With who?" Oliver rolled his eyes, and tried to push past the boy. He was strong for a scrawny git. He could push him out of the way if he wanted to, but that might have been taking it too far.

"Some guy." Percy still wouldn't let him past.

"Who?" There was a tinge of jealousy creeping into the prefect's voice.

"With me, okay? Now let me past, you great bloody git." He shouldered past the pompous know-it-all and made his way out of the Common Room. Percy was still following.

"What do you mean with you? To talk about Quidditch things? But it's been cancelled. I'm sure you won't mind if I go with her instead. Splendid." Percy rushed off ahead. Oliver could have swung for him. He had always had a baseline tolerance of Percy, but he had never been so rankled by the boy. He kept his pace regular, slow enough, sure that he would have calmed down by the time, he reached the Entrance Hall. He was right to an extent. But when he saw the lanky, gormless Weasley talking animatedly to Aquila, who looked exceptionally uncomfortable, he felt irked all over again.

"I'm sure that Wood can wait until next year to prattle on about Quidditch. We have a real situation on our hands here. As prefects, it is our duty to devise plans in case of emergencies."

"Is everything okay, Aquila?" Oliver said as he'd reached her. He'd been calling her that in his head for months, but it was the first time he'd said her name aloud to her. She seemed a bit stunned, but the relief in her eyes was clear.

"Of course, Oliver. I was just about to tell Percy here that he's doing such an exceptional job already that there couldn't possibly be more to discuss." There was a subtle frostiness to her tone. She was possibly as annoyed as he was. He almost laughed. How had it taken six years for him to talk to this girl? Percy opened his mouth to say something that was sure to be pompous, when he caught the dark look on Oliver's face. The boy glanced between Aquila and Oliver, and shut his mouth, his own face darkening, and look of jealous anger stealing over him.

"I see. Well. Thank you, Aquila. We'll speak later." The boy stormed off. Aquila laughed nervously beside him.

"Woooow. You should have seen your face, Oliver. It was so funny." He smiled for her. He like her saying his name. When she said it, it almost felt like a nice pet name. He knew that thoughts like that meant he was done for.

"Maybe he'll get the idea and leave you alone." She shrugged.

"You know he sent me a valentine? It was awful." Oliver started to laugh.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like. Did he mention prefect badges?" She took up his laughter, as they made their way out of the castle.

"Not at all, surprisingly."

"I'm amazed he cheated on his prefect badge to send you a valentine. Wait til I tell it tonight, as he polishes it." Her gentle laugh brought a smile to his face. He thought he would never smile again when Quidditch was cancelled. The hurt in his heart was a little less when he thought of it now. He zipped up his jacket as a stern wind blew. Aquila didn't even shiver. She seemed to enjoy the fresh air.

"I'm really sorry about Quidditch, Oliver. I know it means a lot to you. If it's any comfort, you can count on me next year." She patted his shoulder, and he could see that her sympathy was very genuine, not the least bit feigned. The Twins hadn't been that bothered. It was nice to have someone who understood his pain.

"Thanks. It's just… The school is already so sad. I thought it would help keep morale up if we still had Quidditch." They continued to talk about the sad events up at the castle, and how they both agreed that cancelling Quidditch was the wrong decision.

The pair of them together were quite tall, so they walked very fast. They were two of the first Hogwarts students to actually make it to the Three Broomsticks. Aquila bought Oliver a butterbeer to cheer him up. He greatly appreciated it. They sat together in a small secluded table, sipping at the warm butterbeers.

"I know it was you…" Aquila said after a time. Oliver frowned and looked up.

"I'm sorry, what?" What was she talking about?

"I know you were the one… who sent me that lovely card…" Oliver's face reddened instantly. His heart was hammering furiously. He had been caught.

"I don't think so. You must have… made a mistake." He nearly choked on the next mouthful of his drink.

"Oliver, we've been doing homework together for months now. I know your handwriting. The way you loop your 'l's. How you never dot your i." The panic set in immediately. He shouldn't have done it. He didn't know what had possessed him that night when he had sat up in bed writing a Valentine for the one girl he couldn't possibly be with, ever. She would thank him, because she was gracious, and tell him that she didn't feel that way about him, and that they shouldn't hang out together anymore. This had never happened to him. He was trying to mentally prepare himself.

"I just wanted you to know, that I admire the person you are. How hard you work, how smart and kind you are. Your skill in Quidditch. I'm sorry if I've offended you." He stared down at his butterbeer. This was the end of a friendship, he knew it.

"Oliver…" He took a deep breath and braced himself. "It was the sweetest, kindest thing anyone has ever said to me." He looked up and waited for the 'but'. "Nobody ever really sees that about me. They see my pureblood name, my pureblood face. Never who I am. Thank you."

She had a gentle smile on her lips, and a misty look to her eyes.

"I just want you to know, that I admire you as well. And…" she paused, "That I care for you as well." He stared at her shocked. He didn't think this was how it was going to play out. He struggled for words.

"Aquila… we shouldn't… say these things. I'm your captain." He sighed heavily and frowned. She reached out and patted his hand.

"There's no Quidditch this year." She had him there.