One. Last. Time. {Oliver Wood}

Those golden-brown eyes

*DISCLAIMER* this chapter takes place in Oliver's point of view from the incident with Valerie and Flint. And I'm not a narcissist lmao, I just tried to sound like the simp Oliver is.

February 20, 1991

"Valerie I'm so sorry he just-" Oliver tried to apologize but Valerie held up a hand to silence him.

"I don't even want to hear it Wood!" Valerie yelled at him. He had never heard Valerie's voice so cold, so full of hate. What had he done wrong?

After Valerie said this she stormed out of the library, leaving Oliver alone, feeling confused as to why the girl he wanted to spend all his time with, was so angry with him. Okay yes, maybe he did hex Flint, but he hurt Valerie! What was he supposed to do? Sit around and watch?

He picked up his Transfiguration textbook off the desk and slugged back to Gryffindor Tower. What did I do wrong? Why is she so mad at me? Oliver thought.

It's probably because she fancies Flint. A nasty voice in his head said.

What?! No, she-she couldn't, why would she? Flint's a Slytherin! He countered with himself.

Have you noticed her last name?! She's destined to marry a Slytherin one day. She fancies Flint.

No.

Yes.

"No!" Oliver said out loud.

"Are you alright mate?" Percy Weasley asked Oliver. Percy came out of literally nowhere and startled him, "Yeah, I'm fine." Oliver replied trying to push his negative thoughts out.

"Banana Fritters." Percy said to the Fat Lady portrait. "Do you want to work on McGonagall's essay?" he asked as they entered the common room.

Oliver didn't answer and only aimlessly walked into his dormitory, he had too much to think about. Oliver hadn't felt this distracted and full of thoughts since he played Ravenclaw back in November, another thing caused by the girl with those golden-brown eyes. Valerie Santos.

He plonked himself down onto his four-poster bed and thought and thought and thought. He couldn't figure out why Valerie was so mad at him. All throughout the night the only thing that filled his mind was Valerie. Everything and anything Valerie. Thoughts like: Does she fancy Flint? Is she mad at me because I was protecting her? Is she ever going to talk to me ever again?

He couldn't think straight, the thing that meant everything thing to him (other than Quidditch of course) was slipping out of his grasp.

How can she mean everything to you when you can't even figure out why she hates you? The nasty voice in his head suggested.

Although he didn't want to admit it, the nasty voice in his head was right. And he hated it, he really did think he knew Valerie, that she meant everything to him, that he loved her. He was getting emotional and didn't know how to handle it.

The first thing that overcame him was frustration. He lifted his head up and took out the pillow from under it and chucked it across the darkness of his dormitory, fuming.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Percy shouted from across the room. Apparently, the pillow hit Percy right in the face.

Oliver sat up in the darkness and sighed heavily, "Sorry Perce, I'm just- just mad. Go back to sleep."

"Are you sure everything's alright with you? You don't normally throw pillows in your sleep." Percy replied, sounding concerned. Oliver wanted to ask him for advice about his girl problems, but Percy knew much less than he did so he replied, "Yeah Perce, I'm fine." Percy closed his curtains and fell back asleep.