The Keeper

Chapter 23

The songs I listened are Holy Mountain by Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds, Penny Lane by The Beatles and In A Big Country by Big Country.

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*

"They were talking about you."

My eyes widened. Whatever they were saying was enough to make Oliver stand up and confront them into near-silence. "Could you be a bit more specific?" I asked.

He took a step closer to me and lowered his head so it was level with mine. My heartbeat started to speed up.

"It seems so stupid now, but-"

"If you had to go up to them, I don't think it was stupid," I interrupted. "It was obviously enough to get you worked up."

"They were saying that the only reason you said yes to going out with me was... because of quidditch," Oliver muttered.

"What?"

"Apparently you're using me, presumably under Sasha's instruction, to get information on Gryffindor's tactics and feed them back to her. Albert, in particular, seemed to be very fixated on this theory. He said you were touchy about the subject when he tried to talk to you about it."

I scoffed. That is seriously what they think?

"And I want to know if any of it is true," he finished quietly.

Taken aback, I furrowed my eyebrows. It stung that Oliver was genuinely considering the fact that I was Sasha's pawn in a scheme to beat them at quidditch. First of all, I thought he would be sure that neither Sasha nor I would ever do something like that. Second, we'd already played Gryffindor so the entire plot would be pointless. I didn't think that anger was the best approach, however, so remained calm.

"Of course not," I said gently. "Oliver, you know I would never use someone. I thought you'd be clear on that by now." Although, as I spoke I realised I shouldn't mask my emotions. "I appreciate that you went to speak to them. But I'm a bit disappointed, I guess. It hurts that you'd consider what they were saying is true. Sasha is all about fair play - she'd never try to infiltrate the opposition. And neither would I."

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip. "I-I..." he trailed off. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/N. You're completely right, I was being paranoid and-and stupid and I just want to apologise."

I partially tuned out of his apology. Part of me wanted to walk away and leave him to dwell on his thoughts for a while. The other part of me wanted to hug him and never let go. But the instant I took one look into his pleading eyes, the second part triumphed.

I stepped forward, stood on my tip-toes and wrapped my arms around him. He was surprised into silence. After taking a second to process what I had done, Oliver hugged me too. We separated after a moment, still standing close.

"Thanks for apologising," I said. "I'm not mad at you."

"Good," Oliver replied. He took my hand and rubbed the back with his thumb.

*

My quill wasn't moving. It stayed still in my hand, no words coming out. Three sheets of nearly blank parchment lay mockingly on the table before me. The only thing I had written was the title Usage of Moonstone. Potions was never my favourite subject and the lack of a written essay was cementing this fact. Professor Snape's constant pacing didn't help my concentration. And neither did the comments from people around me.

Hence, the notes I had been passed during the lesson. They had slowly accumulated into a little pile on the corner of my desk. Most were hastily scribbled messages about Oliver and I, particularly concerning the quidditch conspiracy. When Professor Snape was at the far corner of the room, Sasha had leaned over and quietly offered to burn them. I told her to wait until after dinner.

And we did. Aleeza and Louise decided to join us but Gillian opted to stay in the dorm. The four of us gathered in the common room. We walked towards the fireplace. Aleeza and Louise took a seat on the sofa while Sasha sat in the armchair.

"Let the ceremony begin!" Aleeza declared.

"You seem very excited," Louise said.

"Because this is a very important event and your feeble mind isn't equipped to grasp the concept," she replied.

Chuckling, I kneeled in front of the fireplace. It's at times like those I realised how incredibly strange our friendship was.

"Begone, notes," Sasha said as I threw them into the flames. She clapped as they caught fire.

We returned to our dorm to find Gillian sitting on her bed catching up on homework. She briefly looked up as we walked in.

"Enjoy yourselves?" she asked, noisily flipping a page of her textbook.

"Immensely so," I said. I collapsed onto my bed. "Burning hate makes me happy."

"Nothing is going to pull you and Oliver apart," Sasha added as she too got into bed.

Gillian coughed. "Sure."