The One That Loved {Book Three in 'The One' Series}

Chapter Eight ~ Oh, Syrie

Chapter Eight

Oh, Syrie.

       Hogwarts was flourishing with spring. The gardens were overflowing with small buds and Hagrid was in and out of the forest everyday, bringing news of baby unicorns and planting flower seeds beside his hut. On a fine spring day, Syrie was walking along the lake after Quidditch practise, enjoying the feeling of sun on her skin.

At the far end of the lake, Syrie’s eyes caught a flash of silvery blonde hair-realizing it was Victoire, she began to turn away, but Victoire called her back.

“Syrie!” she called, getting up from her spot on the ground and leaving her friends to come over. “Please, Seer. We need to talk.”

“I know.” Syrie said quietly, eyes on the ground. Her mind was telling her to run, but her feet seemed to have grown roots, and they were stuck in the ground.

Victoire’s deep blue eyes were misty as she looked at Syrie with pleadingly “Syrie…I know I was being a total twat. I shouldn’t have gone on about Teddy, should have realized it was bothering you…I’m a vain and self absorbed person, and sometimes I can’t see it-but at least I’ve accepted that.”

Somehow words had escaped her, and Syrie opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water; Victoire rarely admitted to her selfish ways. Though Syrie knew that her friend was often obnoxious and self absorbed, she loved her anyway-and she missed her.

“Please, Syrie-” Victoire stepped closer, fat tears now rolling down her cheeks. “-Can we be friends again? I-I need my best friend.”

Chin quivering, Syrie smiled shyly at her best friend “I missed you, Vicky.”

With a trembling laugh, Victoire threw herself at her smaller friend and hugged her tightly “Oh Merlin I missed you, too. Let’s never fight ever again, okay?”

“Okay.” Syrie mumbled into Victoire’s glossy hair, and out of the corner of her eye, Syrie could see Teddy. He was leaning against a tree, smiling straight at her.

            Not many Hogwarts students were in the library in May, but a few lingered in the sun lit round booths; Syrie, Victoire and Greg sat together, books strewn across the tabletop. Not that much studying was getting done, but still.

“I swear I‘m going to fail.” Greg groaned, banging his head against the book covered surface.

“You won’t,” assured Victoire, patting the top of his head “If anyone is going to fail, it will be me. And father expects me to get all OWLS; he seems unaware to the fact that I am no brainiac.”

“You’re smart,” Syrie piped up “Just…well, you’re not so good at memorizing.”

Victoire giggled and opened her Herbology textbook “Or at Quidditch strategies, or essays or anything else; I’m no you, Syrie.”

Blushing, Syrie ducked her head and scribbled in her textbook absentmindedly “I’m not good at much; I just happen to know how to play Quidditch and write a good essay. That’s nothing. If I had your people skills, maybe then I could show up at Dad’s talks and impress people.”

“You impress people enough, don’t you worry.” Said a deep voice from behind Syrie, and she jumped, cheeks staining pink once again. Teddy’s light, sky blue eyes gazed down at her; he’d changed his hair, too-he was in his natural form. “Didn’t mean to scare you, Shortie, sorry.” He turned to Victoire “Ready to go?”

Flashing him her winning smile, Victoire jumped up and grabbed her book bag “Yup, see you guys later!”

Teddy allowed Victoire to take his hand and leaned down to whisper in Syrie’s ear “Bye, Syrie.”