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It's not that you couldn't fly. A skill like that is like riding a bike, you just don't forget how to do it. It's just that you didn't want to - not anymore. You used to basically live in the air, whenever your older brother let you use his old broom. As long as he was there to watch over you, your parents didn't even mind. They saw how much you loved it, and assumed you were going to grow up to be a professional Quidditch player.
The sport wasn't what drew you to love flying, even though your Brother had loved it more than anything. He had taken you to your first game, and you watched in awe as they swooped through the air, fighting for the win. Your little heart fluttered when the wining goal happened, and it was then you knew you had to try to fly.
So after a lot of convincing and begging, and your brother promising to watch over you, your parents agreed to allow you on the old broom. It wasn't a training broom, so it was much bigger than yourself but you didn't care. With a determined gleam, the broom hovered without you having to even try that hard. At least that's how you remembered it.
Every day you would get your brother to show you his tips and tricks at flying, and you grew to love the flight even more than the sport.. though your brother and yourself still enjoyed watching and talking about the game.
Still, part of you wanted to fly on your own, not being watched like a hawk. You could do it, you knew how to fly fine. You wanted to go higher and faster.
When your brother left home to pursue his Quidditch career, your parents thought you were still a little too young to fly on your own but neither of them had the time to watch over you like your Brother. Besides, you only had to wait long enough to go to Hogwarts, and then you could fly for your house.
You hated that. You didn't want to wait, it would be way too long.
And so, one day when your parents were busy and your newly hired Nanny was cooking dinner, you slipped out of your house with the broom that was slightly too big for you. Truth be told, you were a little nervous but your excitement took that over.
The first few seconds were wonderful, the breeze through your hair, the way the ground moved beneath you.
So when the accident happened, of course your parents were furious once they found out you had escaped with only a broken arm and a broken ankle. You could have gotten much worse after all, and part of you did. That day you developed a fear of flying, never wanting to pick up another broom again.
So imagine how hard it was when your best friend happened to turn out to be the Quidditch Captain? He was on the broom more than he was on the ground, but still you went to every game of his, cheering him on and supporting him.
You managed to get out of your classes on the broom with written consent from your parents. But of course, Oliver never understood it completely. He always tried to get you in the air, no matter what you said. He would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do, but he certainly tried his best to convince you.
"Don't you want to join the team?" He would tease and then playfully wink when you gave him a horrified look - thinking of all those other players and wild balls in play. "I'll do that when you get 30 OWLs." You would shoot back, just as playful. Those moments were special to you, he would take your fear and put it in a place that was filled with warmth, rather than cold.
It was one day after watching him practice that you walked into the grass just as the Weasley twins walked off, joking about something or the other. Your eyes were elsewhere. "Your team is really coming together, Oliver... I think you might even win the big game this year."
He smiled at you, your heart skipped a beat. It wasn't long for you to develop a crush on him, there were plenty of other girls that did as well. But you had him as your friend, so you were always worried - never wanting to ruin that. You would be crushed if he were no longer there. Though the thought of those smiling lips pressed against any other girls also gave you the same crushing, sinking feeling. "You think so?"
"Absolutely." He wiped sweat from his forehead and grinned, "Thanks, Y/N! That is the goal, always. But I agree - Potter being Seeker this year it looks real good. He's not bad, must take after his dad."
"And he's got a great teacher." You blurted out. Oliver's face tinted pink, "Thanks." There was an awkward pause, which was not completely uncommon these days ever since your crush began to fully develop. "Uuh- I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go grab a drink with me?" You squeaked out, your face a shade of red.
Oliver stared for a moment and then sheepishly smiled, "Sorry Y/N, really need to keep practicing you know."
"Oh," You said, crestfallen. "Okay, that's fine. Maybe another time, I'll see you later." You said and quickly made your exit, despite Oliver calling after you.
Fresh embarrassed tears pricked at your eyes and you sniffed, stupid teenage hormones. Stupid hot Oliver for turning you down.
"Heyy Y/Last/N!" You turned your head to see the two twins just before the entrance. "You're coming back in a bit early, dontcha normally hang out with your loverboy for awhile?" Fred asked you with a teasing smile.
"He uhm," You had to swallow to keep your voice from wavering. "He doesn't seem to want to spend time with me today."
Fred and George smiled at each other and then at you, "Come hang out with us then!" With a shrug, wiping at your eyes you agreed. What could it hurt?
For awhile, Oliver didn't exist to you. George and Fred filled a space that you needed a distraction with, and soon you found them to be quite good friends. After all, they helped you get over your stinging rejection with good jokes and good butter beer with plenty of snacks.
That night - you were hanging out with George in the common room, both stretched out on couches before a comfy fire. Fred was off with his girlfriend Angela, probably finding a secret little corner to snog the night away. Or at least until curfew.
"So... Not that I mind it, truly. But how come you 'n Oliver don't hang out anymore?" George asked without warning. It left a sour taste in your mouth when you remembered his rejection.
"I think I messed it up between us, I basically asked him out on a date." George's eyes went wide. "You did? Always considered you too shy for that! Good well on you!"
You shrugged, "He turned me down though. Said he had to practice."
George laughed, earning a glare from you and a little kick of your foot against his leg. "Relax, tiger!" A nickname he had picked up for you, after you tried one of the twins candy they created. Ended up with blotchy black stripes that took quite a bit to go away.
"Thing is about Oliver - he's absolutely mad about Quidditch. It's his whole life, well most of it. Plus he's a guy, we aren't too smart you know, specially when it comes to the ladies. Fred just got lucky." He said with a wink.
"You 'n him haven't spoke since then?" He asked, and you nodded.
"You're oblivious to the fact that he's been staring longingly at you every chance he gets." George said. You rolled your eyes, "Yeah right."
George shrug, "Tomorrow morning during breakfast, take a look and you'll see ol' George has it right." He pointed to himself. "I've got an eye for these things, you know."
"Fine - just to prove you wrong." You told him, though you really didn't want to and the thought of Oliver staring at you left you with your heart racing.
Well, he hadn't been wrong. You glanced at Oliver the next morning and your eyes had met. Your mouth dried, and your heart leapt to your throat. He looked down a moment later at his full plate and played around with his food. You sighed and dropped three sickles into George's hand. "Did you really need to make a bet out of it?" You asked him, annoyed.
He only smirked and shrug, "But of course my dear tiger."
You looked at him annoyed, but mostly because now you weren't sure what to do. Part of you had resigned to run away with your tail between your legs and never speak to him again and now the other, majority of yourself wanted to run after him and ask him for that drink again.
"Bet you five sickles if you talk to him he'll actually listen to this time, nothin' like almost losing someone to kick your butt in gear." George said.
You stared at Oliver and noticed he was about to go. You sighed, "Fine. Nothing much else for me to loose at this point." You got up, your plate vanishing away from the table.
George watched you go and his smile turned into a slight frown. "Shoulda just told her your feelings." Fred said, shrugging. "Would have, but I already know Wood has her wrapped around his finger... but this time, if he's an idiot, I'll gladly be his replacement."
"Oliver," You called after him after he turned a corner. He froze, and you caught up quick enough. "Y/N!" He said in surprise.
"Uh.. How've you been?" You asked him, dumbly.
"Practicing like crazy." He said, his handsome grin slipping over his face. You couldn't help but smile a bit, you knew Quidditch would always be his favorite thing.
"You never change." You told him, and his expression seemed to drop. "Listen... Y/N. That day you asked me for drinks I freezed up, I wanted to say yes. But.. I got shy." Oliver blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Quidditch and flying come easy to me, feelings for girls.. not so much."
Your heart skipped a beat. He had feelings for you?
He seemed to realize what he said and his small blush turned beet red, "Sorry, Y/N. I mean it."
You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head. "It's okay, Oliver. I've missed you, honestly. When you turned me down it hurt, sure did. I don't think I even am still over it, but I know you didn't mean to hurt me. So I forgive you!"
He sighed in relief, a smile on his face. He pulled you into a hug, and you felt his warm strong arms around you. He was pretty fit, since he spent so much time in the air. "I really want to win this year, for you." He told you, next to your ear. You grinned and pulled back to meet his face. "For me?"
"Yeah! Why do you think I've been practicing so much for? You've always been my biggest fan after all! Showing up to all my practices and watching all our games." He said.
You shook your head, blushing and biting your bottom lip, wondering if this would be a good idea. "I go to see you, Oliver. I always have. You've always been my best friend, and I love seeing you do something that you love... but I came to see you." You did your best to explain, your heart racing in your chest.
Oliver looked at you, meeting your eyes. There was a moment of silence, there was no one else in the hall and you were still tucked in his arms from the hug. You couldn't tell if he was processing what you said, or if he was trying to think of what to say to reject you again.
"You don't want me.. like I want you.. or need me, like I need you." You mumbled, "I want you in my life, and I need you in my life. You can't see me like I see you, I can't have you, like you have me. And I want you in my life so much, that I'm willing to be just your best friend but I can't keep going on like this - I need you to know that I love yo--" You were unable to complete your ramble of thoughts because of the lips that covered your own.
You gasped into the kiss, your entire body heating up in a huge blush. You froze completely, He slowly pulled back, a hot breath of air against your lips as he gave a soft groan, "I've wanted to hear that for so long... Y/N, you silly girl... I love you. I love you too."
You couldn't help but giggle, feeling so light and the weight from your shoulders leaving all at once. You brought him back into another kiss, your hand against the back of his head, playing with his hair. The kiss lasted longer, letting his tongue play with your own, passionate and all out, throwing caution to the wind.
As this one ended, your eyes met his and you smiled. "Oliver, take me out there. Give me a broom, and Soar with me."
He grinned his perfect grin and took your hand, leading you down the hall and outside.