The Cannons

Penelope Clearwater

Oliver's POV

Penelope Clearwater, and you are?" Her voice was dripping with a certain condescending tone that Oliver knew all to well.

"Aurora." She took Penelope's hand. Oliver could tell that she was trying to act calm.

Oliver, still in shock, struggled to find his voice. The sight of Penelope on his doorstep was jarring, and he felt a rush of emotions he wasn't ready to confront.

"Penelope, you shouldn't be here. I'm having dinner with my friends," Oliver said, his voice carrying a note of finality.

"Please, Oliver, just a quick chat," Penelope pleaded, her voice taking on a familiar, manipulative edge that Oliver had grown tired of.

"Penelope, I told you I'm having dinner. You must go," Oliver said, his tone brooking no argument. He forced himself to hold her gaze, determined not to let her sway him this time.

"I'm not leaving until we speak. I came all the way here; you can't just spare a few minutes?" Penelope's voice was rising, her frustration evident.

"Fine, three minutes," Oliver relented, casting a reassuring glance at Aurora before stepping outside with Penelope.

The door closed behind them, leaving Aurora and the others in the dining room, their chatter subdued by the unexpected interruption.

Once outside, Oliver faced Penelope with a guarded expression. "What is it you want to say?"

"Oliver," Penelope began, her voice softening as she took a deep breath. "I came to apologize. Since we split, I've had time to reflect on how things went. I didn't support your dreams as I should have. I saw you play that day you got hit by the bludger, and it took everything in me not to run onto the field to make sure you were okay." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've seen you in the Prophet, and every time, I had to stop myself from writing to you. It was hard to see you with other women and even harder to see you so happy without me, especially since I've been miserable every single day without you."

Penelope paused, taking a shaky breath. "Christmas is coming up, and it will be the first one in nearly a decade that I'll spend without you. I didn't even realize until now that you wouldn't be there, and I bought you a gift out of habit." She held up a beautifully wrapped present, her fingers trembling slightly. "It is the newest things from the Quidditch supplies shop."

Oliver's gaze fell on the gift for the first time, the wrapping paper catching the streetlight's glow. He looked back at Penelope, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. "Penelope, I appreciate your apology, but you can't just waltz back into my life whenever it suits you."

Penelope's face hardened, and she lifted her left hand to reveal the engagement ring he had given her, still on her finger. "I understand, but I haven't been able to take off the ring. It's been a constant reminder of what we once had. I'm not trying to disrupt your life, but I needed to show you that I've been struggling too."

Oliver's heart sank as he looked at the ring, the symbol of a past he was trying to move beyond.

Penelope's words hung in the air, heavy with desperation. Her eyes shimmered as she spoke, her hands wringing together nervously. "We had so much, Oliver. You can't just erase all of that. I made mistakes, yes, but I'm different now. I would let you live your life the way you wanted—the Quidditch, the parties, everything." Tears were streaming down her face now.
Oliver had stopped himself from wiping her tears as he listened to her plea. She sounded like she was finally starting to understand, but it felt strange hearing her talk about becoming someone he needed—now, after everything had already crumbled. How could she suddenly be ready to change when they'd spent years struggling?