Silent Sigh

Silent Sigh

For Him

You can make me smile just by being there; by saying hello.

You can drive me mad with longing or just plain mad

With the simple turn of your head.

The more time I spend with you the more fond of you I become

And yet the more irritated I can be with you.

How do you have the ability to infuriate me so?

And yet with that smile you are instantly forgiven.

Your gaze is a light-bulb, a beacon in the fog.

I flourish in its light, afraid of burning.

In its intensity no one else exists.

When you look away, when you won't meet my eyes

I feel bereft, ignored. Do you do it on purpose?

I suspect you know your power, you talent for being loved.

And yet I cannot help caring - I too seek your attention,

Warmed with the knowledge that you choose to call me friend.

Anonymous

Part One.

Her knees were getting stiff, but she couldn't think of a way to shift without falling off the uncomfortable wooden bench. "Come on, Oliver!" she thought. "We know all this. Of course we will play our best. We always play our best. We know it's your last year and you are desperate to win. We all are. Now lets go play the bloody game before I get so stiff I can't sit on my broom!"

As if he heard her, Oliver stepped back, took a breath and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "That's it team. Let's go play some Quidditch." With groans and stretches that were only half mockery, the team stood. On either side of her Alicia could see Angelina and Katie straightening robes and tightening hair before mounting their brooms. Oliver flung the door open and soared out to the adulation on the crowd. Scarcely a second later and she too was out there, the cold air on her face, the smell of the damp grass of the October morning, the roaring cheers of her friends and schoolmates. And, as she did at the start of every match, Alicia remembered why she loved Quidditch.

The shrill whistle signalled the start and they were off. The tiny Golden Snitch vanishing almost instantly with Harry and the Hufflepuff Seeker hot on its trail. But she didn't have time to stop and look around; Angelina had the Quaffle and had thrown it to Katie. Alicia swooped down between them, clutching the warm leather to her as Katie passed. On either side of her the other girls pulled ahead, Angelina taking the Quaffle and then the bell that sounded as the red ball soared past the Keeper and through the hoop at the Hufflepuff end of the pitch. Somewhere distantly behind her, Alicia heard Lee Jordan shout 'Ten Zero to Gryffindor! Just watch those girls fly!"

With a smile on her face, she circled back to the centre to start again. This time Hope Ellis, the fourth year Hufflepuff chaser who was becoming more and more of a threat each game, made off with the Quaffle. She had scarcely gotten halfway to her posts when a well-aimed bludger from George made her drop the ball into Katie's waiting arms. Katie passed to Angelina who passed to Katie who passed to Alicia who scored. She sailed past the resigned keeper with her arms in a victory salute before clasping hands briefly with Katie and shooting off after the Quaffle once more.

Her hands on the broomstick were cold. Catching the leather ball warmed them briefly, but they began to hurt with the impact. Alicia hardly noticed, she was so caught up in the exhilaration of the game. Twice more she scored to the screaming pleasure of her house. Then almost too soon Harry caught the Snitch and the game was over. Alicia stumbled dismounting from her broom, feeling ungainly and awkward walking after looping so gracefully through the sky. Her team mates were around her, the girls hugging her, Fred casually messing her tightly pulled back hair in his excitement and Harry in the centre, his hands closed tightly around the beautiful golden sphere that had won the game for them. After politely shaking hands with the defeated team they headed back to their changing rooms, Oliver's sweaty arm draped across her shoulders.

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Alicia had always been perfectly sure when she realised that her feelings for Oliver were more than that of a friend and teammate. It was when he, as a sixth year, had collided with her on the stairs to the great hall. They had been playing Quidditch together for over two years at the time and were pretty good friends. She, the ever conscientious student, had been plodding on up to her History of Magic lesson, already nearly ten minutes late and he had been heading out to the pitch, broom in hand to practise. She had smiled and mumbled a greeting before continuing up when his call stopped her.

"Alicia," she had turned politely to see him stretch up his hand to her. "I want to try a new move - will you come score against me?" They had stood staring at each other for a heartbeat that seemed to last for hours when Alicia recalled it.

"I have a History of magic lesson," she had stated blandly, her words falling into the void of silence that had sprung up around them in this busy school. Somewhere far above them someone had called down a corridor to a friend. A shrill voice had called back.

"I know." He had said. His hand had remained outstretched.

It was then that she knew. She never missed lessons. But Binns wouldn't even notice her absence. And there was no way that she couldn't descend those five stairs. There was no way she could have turned her back and walked away. She followed him out onto the Quidditch pitch, furious with herself, determined not to join his band of followers, and equally amazed at the warm feeling that she had discovered resting just above her stomach that sent a fizzy feeling through her veins whenever he looked at her, a feeling similar to the exhilaration she felt when flying, and yet somehow wholly different.

Alicia had had crushes before. Adam Standish, Paul Garson and Charlie Weasley to name but a few. But they had always been distant figures years away from her. It had been safe to fancy them, it had never altered the way she saw someone. It had never been someone she knew. She wondered if this was strange. Being sixteen and never having had a proper boyfriend. She had been kissed before, at parties, in deserted classrooms, most recently by a beautifully tanned Muggle boy on the beach in Florida. But that had always been a kiss, nothing more. Not a promise or an assurance, or even a way of demonstrating feeling. Simply the physical giving and taking of lips, tongues entwined, and the understanding that that was all it was.

She remembered that Quidditch practise fondly. There was nothing much to distinguish it from the dozens of other practises she and Oliver had shared, alone together or with other team members. Again and again she took shots at the goal hoops. About half the time she got the red leather ball past him and the other half he caught or deflected her shot. They were a pretty evenly matched team although without the other chasers she was at a slight disadvantage. After about an hour Oliver signalled for her to land, thanked her for her company and assistance and then led the way back indoors. Alicia had followed him wondering why she had never noticed how beautifully his robes draped across his strong shoulders, how long his stride was, how his brown hair curled ever so slightly at the nape of his neck. She had felt like laughing and crying at the same time. How long had she known Oliver? And for how long had she felt like this? Why had she only just realised?

In recollection of that morning Alicia now knew that it had just been the realisation. She must have unconsciously been harbouring feelings for him for much longer. She thought back to the number of times he had draped an arm across her shoulders, ruffled her hair or teasingly tickled her waist from behind. It was a comfortable, flirty friendship. That was the way Oliver treated girls, charming almost without realising it. She had seen him flush crimson at the mention of the second and third year girls who sighed and whispered his name as he passed in the corridor. She knew he was flattered and embarrassed in equal measure. She wondered if that was how he would feel if he knew how she felt.

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The party in the Gryffindor common room after the match was as rowdy and boisterous as always. Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, under the direction Alicia suspected of Lee Jordan, had draped the room in scarlet crepe paper ribbons and someone had enchanted the ceiling so that tiny golden confetti in the shape of snitches fell constantly, coating everything in golden snow, tangling into hair and catching on clothing.

The twins were holding court from the armchairs by the fire, discussing over and over the finer points of the game with the crowd perched around them. Angelina was sitting on the woolly rug at Fred's feet, the back of her head resting on the chair between his knees. Katie and Alicia claimed the giant cushions on the other side of the fire, just close enough to hear what was going on but just far enough away to avoid being drawn into the excited conversation.

"Here's to another Gryffindor success!" shouted Harry raising his glass of butterbeer over his head. The roar of approval drowned out any further words. Alicia gazed around her at her friends, their happy, faces bathed in the flickering golden light from the fire making it seem as if they were glowing with their happiness. Animated discussions, punctuated with comic anecdotes told by Fred (and often finished by George) and Lee's impressions of the professors filled several hours before she even noticed. Alicia's stomach hurt from laughing and she could see that Angelina had tears of mirth running down her cheeks. Harry was finding it difficult to remain on his chair he was so doubled up, gasping for breath. Eventually the conversation quietened and Alicia leant back against the wall with a yawn. She felt drowsy and light-headed, realising too late that she hadn't eaten since breakfast and that, although its alcohol content was low, the butterbeer was beginning to have an effect. She couldn't remember how much she had drunk, which she knew wasn't a good sign. Seeing her slightly woozy expression Lee came to her rescue with a glass of water, "I think Miss Spinnet has had enough, huh? Give it rest for tonight, Alicia or you will feel it in the morning." Alicia smiled her agreement and allowed him to take away her beer glass.

Beside her Katie sighed. "How do you make him smile at you like that?" she moaned. Alicia grinned at her friend. "By not being interested in him at all!" she laughed. "And, and..." she leaned closer to her friend, swaying slightly, "I think that was all for your benefit anyway. To show what a nice bloke he is."

"I wish," muttered Katie.

"I think..." continued Alicia, waggling her finger underneath her friend's nose. "I think that Lee has a bit of a soft spot for you... if you understand me... I think you should tell him."

"Oh? The pot and the kettle?" retorted Katie. It took all of Alicia's semi-sober self-control to prevent her from turning to look at the corner where she knew Oliver sat with his cronies. "That's different. I know he doesn't like me. Haven't you seen the way he looks at Paris? He loves her! And I wish I could hate her for it!" The end of her pronouncement fell into one of those natural lulls in the conversation, and sounded far too loud. Had she not been somewhat worse for wear, Alicia would have been mortified. As it was she was fairly embarrassed, and stood, in a slightly wobbly fashion. "I'm going to bed," she announced to the room as the conversations picked up again. She stumbled across the room to the stairs, steadying herself briefly on the shoulder of a first year boy who looked at her with wide eyes. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"No problem," he whispered back in awe. "Anytime." Oh bless, she thought distantly as she found her way to the dormitory.

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When she woke the sun was streaming in through the high window over her bed and flooding the room with light. "Shit, I'm late!" she thought in panic as she sat up. The sudden movement made her head swim and her vision narrow. As it cleared she realised it was Saturday and let herself down gently back onto the pillow.

Katie was naturally an early riser so Alicia was unsurprised to see her best friend's bed empty, the covers thrown back to air. She squinted at the clock on her table when she realised that the two other beds were also vacant. It was nearly ten - thirty. She had missed breakfast. But then breakfast wasn't exactly high on her list of priorities, in fact the thought of bacon and eggs, or even toast, made her feel as if she would throw up.

A few minutes later there was a gentle knock on the door. At her call Ginny Weasley shouldered the door open and entered with a teapot and cup on a tray. "I thought you might like some tea," she said, indicating the pot.

"Did I make a complete fool of myself last night?" Alicia asked with a wince.

"No," smiled the younger girl. "No. There were definitely people who were far worse. My own dear brother - George I mean, I'd better get my story straight from the start! - my dear brother made a spectacular fool of himself after you left. He completely left you in the shadow I'm afraid! No worries there!"

Alicia smiled at her. She had liked the twins' sister ever since she started at Hogwarts over a year earlier. She had the same slightly mischievous sense of humour as her brothers, but in toned down form. And she was thoughtful and kind, in small ways, such as bringing Alicia the tea when she knew that Alicia would be feeling a bit delicate.

"What did he do?" She saw Ginny bite back a grin.

"Well he kissed Parvati Patil, in Ron's year. Parvati has had a crush on George for a while, I think. And they were flirting. It was inevitable really. But now he feels really guilty because he isn't really interested."

"Poor Parvati." Murmured Alicia, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips. "Did I miss anything else?"

"Not really. Well Harry had too much to drink and Seamus and Ron had to carry him up to bed. When he tried to stand his knees gave way and he sat on the carpet and looked up at Hermione and said 'I think I'm drunk'." The smile she had been fighting back broke through and lit up her face. Alicia recognised that kind of smile. She leaned back on the pillows, indicating to the younger girl to sit on the end of the bed.

"And... would anyone we know happen to have a teensy bit of a crush on Harry?" she teased gently. Ginny blushed. "Jessica Creevy, Karen Harley, Lyn Davies..." she began to list before Alicia's howl of laughter stopped her. Ginny dropped her eyes, unable to meet Alicia's eyes.

"It's a bit obvious, dear." Alicia laughed.

"Not as obvious as who you like!" Ginny retorted. Then stopped aghast at the stricken look on Alicia's face.

"You know?" she whispered, her forehead creased into a frown.

Ginny smiled consolingly, "Well I do. You do make it a bit obvious. And you told Fred, who just can't keep his mouth shut. But I don't think that many people know, they just aren't interested enough to notice. I'm sure Oliver doesn't know. Boys are so dense about things like that."

Alicia forced a smile, wondering why she was so tense about him knowing. He knew Lorna, one of his closest mates, fancied him. And it hadn't changed the way he treated her, or any of the bevy of other fifth and sixth years who had caught the Oliver-bug. Maybe it was because she was refusing to jump on the bandwagon. She didn't want to like someone that popular. It irritated her quite irrationally that he was that popular. Damn boy must have some faults! she thought.

She groaned and put her hands to her face. "It's not that big a deal!" Ginny teased. "Its hardly as if you are the only one..."

"But that's exactly it! They all like 'handsome, popular, Quidditch captain' Oliver. That's not who I see. I see a nice guy. I guy I like spending time with. A guy I want to know better. It's who he is I like, not what he is. And wasn't that the most clichéd thing you have ever heard? Oh Ginny, I'm going back to sleep!" And with a moan she pulled the covers over her head.

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Later, after she had forced herself to shower and dress and drink the tea Ginny had brought her, Alicia wandered down to the shore of the lake, to the cove where she expected to find her friends.

They were exactly where she had predicted. It was a faourite spot whenever the Scottish weather treated them to a glimpse of the sun, and this particular Saturday was glorious. It had been a warm autumn anyway, a kind of Indian summer, and many of the other pupils had taken to sitting outside to study or even to picnic on the grass. Her friends were no exception. Lee and the twins had selected this patch the summer before and now it was where the group congregated. Angelina and Katie had spread out a blanket on the rough grass and lay talking and sunning themselves while the boys ran energetically around chasing each other with a light canvas ball enchanted to act like a bludger, one of George's inventions.

Further along the bank Alicia could see some of the younger Gryffindors. Ron and Harry and Seamus were debating if they should come join the older boys' game while Dean and Hermione discussed the finer points of Arithmancy. But it was the group who sat in the shade of the trees who drew Alicia's eyes. Lorna Smith, Cara Ellis and Paris Britten, and in their midst as ever, Oliver Wood.

Studiously ignoring the seventh years, Alicia lowered herself between Angelina and Katie on the chequered blanket. Even when facing the other way she was fiercely aware of where Oliver sat, occasionally she could hear his voice raised in laughter or mock annoyance. She was finding it very difficult to concentrate on what her friends were saying. Out of the corner of her eye she kept glancing over at the fourth years, wondering why all Oliver's closest chums were girls. Maybe he's gay, an irrational part of her suggested. It was a rumour that had circulated some years before, the source of which had never been established. But it was generally accepted to be pure rumour; Oliver was far too flirty with women and had never had any close friends who were male. Not that that proved anything, but it had been decided by majority judgment that if Oliver was gay life was worse than simply unfair as it would be a waste of 'another nice and sexy guy'.

Watching his behaviour with Paris, Alicia was convinced that Oliver was straight. Either that or it was a hell of a good cover up. A deep conviction developed in her stomach that by the end of the day Oliver and Paris would be a couple. This settled in her mind and in her chest heavily like a lead weight and even the chocolate cupcakes Angelina produced tasted dry and unappealing. When she left half still on her plate Fred asked her in a teasing manner if she felt herself. "Not really," Alicia smiled. The smile felt fake. "I'm just feeling a bit sick, that's all."

"Too much butterbeer! I warned you last night, missy!" Lee grinned at her.

"Yeah. I expect that's it."

The topic moved on to whether or not it was safe to swim in the great lake, and Katie's warm, reassuring hand found Alicia's and squeezed it briefly. Alicia was grateful, even though she knew her friend didn't understand what had caused her to be upset.

After some debate, and a confirmation from McGonagall the twins decided that they would risk swimming in the shallows. They and Lee stripped off their robes, shirts and trousers and ran down the sand in their boxer shorts. Howls rose as their toes greeted the icy, October water. But before long other students were preparing to take the same risk. Cara and Paris were urging Oliver to join them for a dip, and silently Alicia willed him to agree. Chunky Lorna decided to stay on the bank and Oliver settled beside her, waving the other girls on to swim without him, at least for the time being.

Alicia watched tall, loud, brunette Cara and slight, golden-blonde Paris gingerly test the water with their beautiful feet. They clung to one another giggling, holding out their hands to implore a laughing Oliver to join them. Partly to Alicia's chagrin and partly to her relief, Oliver continued to shake his head.

Eventually the girls made it in to their waists. Cara was still whimpering at the cold, but Paris had set her teeth to bear it, and at gasps from the others in the water, she ducked and went completely underwater, surfacing some metres out, shaking droplets from her perfect hair like the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom. She turned to her friends with a laugh and raised her arms in triumph. Even from where she sat, Alicia could see that Paris was shivering but this did not diminish her appeal. The eyes of every boy on the lake shore must have been turned in this direction, Alicia thought. She felt a twinge of jealousy and caught hold of it, nurturing it, encouraging it.

But even as she did so her mind was filled with other memories of Paris. Paris helping with her Potions homework. Paris bringing her a singing card when she was confined to the infirmary with flu. Paris holding her hand and comforting her the night the troll broke into the school. Dozens of small, thoughtful kindnesses. And even as she tried to replace these images with ones of Paris curled against Oliver in the armchair in the common room, Alicia knew that she couldn't hate the other girl. She almost counted Paris as a friend. And that definitely made it worse.

The selfish part of Alicia wanted Paris to turn Oliver down when he asked her out (she was certain now that it was a matter of when not if), but the nice part of her wanted Oliver to be happy, and better with someone she liked than someone she despised surely?

With a moan Angelina allowed Fred to pull her down to the water's edge and then in as far as her knees, leaving Katie and Alicia alone on the grass. Katie was gazing out towards the shivering, laughing figures with glassy eyes. Alicia prodded her friend's waist with a teasing finger. "Do you know you're staring, dear?" she joked.

"Mmhmm," agreed Katie almost without realising. "Isn't he delicious though?" Then she turned to her friend with a cheeky grin, "And you're just jealous because Oliver hasn't taken his clothes off!"

They both laughed, Alicia acknowledging that this was partially true. "Looks as if Paris has her claws well and truly into him though..." she commented wryly, watching the was Oliver watched the swimmers. "Not that I blame him. She's lovely. I mean she's beautiful, intelligent, funny, kind... I'm amazed he even notices other girl exist."

"Well what kind of defeatist attitude is that?" Katie asked. "Does Oliver know how you feel? How do you know he doesn't like you if you've never let him know how you feel? He certainly has always been fond of you, more so than of Angelina or me. His little 'fan club' would love to be as close to him as you are. Some of them are convinced its you he fancies."

Alicia snorted a sarcastic laugh. Then her face softened. "But that's just it. We do have a great relationship and I don't want to ruin that. I would hate to lose his friendship, to make him feel awkward around me."

Katie bit her lip. "I know. And I've never brought myself to talk to Lee so I'm not the best person to advise you. But I really do think that you have a chance. And if you are so afraid you will lose him to Paris then you should say something and make him pause to think before he does anything."

Alicia nodded, although she smiled her forehead was still creased with thought. "I guess..." she spoke with a long drawn out sigh. "It hasn't changed his friendship with Lorna." She almost formed a resolution to speak to him that day. But when she looked over at him the sick feeling resurfaced in her stomach.

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Alicia couldn't sit in the common room that night and watch Oliver with Paris. She retired to her room with a pile of work. But her mind was not on Arithmancical calculations. She was steeling herself for the looks of sympathy in the morning when Oliver kissed his new girlfriend over the breakfast table. She just knew it would happen with a sick pain in her stomach that wouldn't go away. In the end she pushed the books off the bed and curled on her side with her arms around her knees. She could still hear laughter from downstairs.

She shut her eyes and must have fallen asleep fully clothed because the next time she looked at the clock nearly an hour had passed. It was cold in the dormitory. Alicia rose and tidied away the books that she had pushed to the floor in frustration. Then she decided she might as well just get ready for bed and crossed the corridor to the bathroom. On her way back she could hear voices and paused to see who was climbing the stairs. It was Oliver. Of course it was Oliver she thought. Like in a bad novel, he was always there at the worst moment.

It's now or never. When will I next get a chance?

"Oliver, can I have a word?"

"Sure," he turned that smile on her and it felt as if there was nobody else in the world.

"Do you know who I fancy?" Oh that was graceful! How clumsy can you be!?

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Who's the lucky guy?"

"You really can't work it out?" He shook his head again with an eyebrow-knit smile. "Oh!" she sighed in exasperation, knowing that she couldn't bring herself to say it now. "Oh! You... you fool!" Oh go girl! That was mature.

She turned and pushed open the door to her room, glancing back at him over her shoulder. He was standing exactly where she had left him, with that same bemused frown on his face. "I can't believe you are so confused!" she sighed with a smile, her heart sinking. She let the door fall shut behind her.

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