He touches her arm, knowing that if he turns away now, that if he leaves her there alone, there would be no going back. There would be no more soft kisses and touches in between classes. No more hidden escapades in the many dark corridors that gave Hogwarts her allure.

He opens his mouth, as if to apologize, to repent for the wrongs he has performed. She doesn't look back; instead, she gently twists her arm out of his grasp and brushes her other arm across her face to rid her eyes of the unshed tears. Unshed because she knows she should have known better before falling in love with an arrogant Gryffindor, one who would clearly favor his own housemates over a Slytherin. And a Quidditch Gryffindor at that. A boy whose ego correlated with his obsession and talent in Quidditch. She has never liked the sport. One too many times she'd been stood up for a broomstick and some hoops. But she put up with it because she loved him that much. Seeing another girl's lips on his however, with her arms wound tightly around his neck in a position all too familiar, shatters her heart. It twists her stomach and mind into an ugly and despicable feeling that refuses to let go.

Oliver takes a step forward but he knows it's too late. Already she is leaving, black robes sweeping against the ground. He watches her leave, this time no longer staring after her happily and observing her graceful walk. No, this time he watches her leave in sorrow, heart clenching so painfully that tears rise up in his eyes. He knows he has made a mistake. The other girl's lips felt nothing like hers. Her lips could give rise to pleasantness, to passion. Only she could cause his heart to speed up and butterflies to flutter uncontrollably in his stomach. He wishes he can call after her and explain now, but the heartbroken look on her face, however quickly he had glimpsed it, stops him. He does not know how to explain without stumbling and making it worse. Perhaps he should take some time. He will tell her tomorrow.

A tug on his wrist draws his attention back to his teammate. She smile up at him and the movement of her lips reminds him of what has just transpired between them. He shakes his head and steps back, causing her smile to turn into a grim frown. He looks down at the broom in his hand and he sighs, knowing that the remaining year will be difficult.

When he enters his bedroom, he notices the small package sitting neatly on his bed. It is then that he remembers that today is his birthday. The note in her familiar handwriting breaks his heart again as he sees the three words that he has never said to her but she has always said without fail.

The next day he cannot find her. No matter where he looks, she is not there. The professors are clueless, giving him a shrug or a shake of a head when he asks. He tries to find her and talk to her, but she easily evades him, with the help of her fellow Slytherins. Even if they had treated him moderately, being the nicer Slytherins, they now have a clue of what has happened, what with his teammate always being around to try and catch his attention. They no longer treat him with a stiff nod when they see him. He finds himself visiting the infirmary more often to have his burns and cuts from various hexes treated.

The year passes and he fails to explain to her. He will later regret that he did not try hard enough. He should have stood up on the table in the Great Hall and rid himself of his dignity to get her back.

They graduate, and again, he does not make enough effort to seek her out. In his worse days in the future, he will beat himself up over letting her go. Everything reminds him of her, from the stars that they had gazed at in the Astronomy tower together, to the quill he uses to write, because she had always liked brushing him gently across the cheek with hers. He always reminisces back to their time in the tower, and to her funny way of saying she wanted to see the stars that night before they fell. He remembers laughing and touching her nose gently, wrapping his arms around her to tell her to not say that, that it was strange. He remembers the adorable crinkle of her nose when she feigned annoyance, but would always be able to make it disappear by ducking down to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

He doesn't forget her, not when he moves into his new apartment, or when he plays his first official Quidditch match. When the Battle of Hogwarts begins, he is frantic, flying expertly on his broom with others in an aerial attack. He spots her from time to time, and flies past always to make sure she is alright. The battle makes him realize all the things he should have said to her, especially the three little words that had always given him a pleasant feeling when she said them. He cannot find her after the battle, but is relieved to not see her among the dead. He finds out that she has moved, to another country, to one where it is hard for him to follow.

Three years pass, and her memory becomes faded, pushed back with all the other memories from his school days. He drowns himself in Quidditch, making a name for himself, hoping that she would notice and would come back.

And then with a rush, it hits him. He sees her, on the arm of his teammate at his Quidditch win celebration. She is smiling again, something he has not seen in years. The rush of jealousy is painful, especially when their eyes meet and her smile vanishes. He misses being able to make her smile and laugh. He misses touching her hair, her cheek, her lips. He misses her. The memories swirl back painfully and he cannot seem to make his heart calm. He downs two bottles of Firewhiskey before he realizes. He tips forward, the third bottle slipping out of his hands, and welcomes the darkness that meets him.

He wakes to see her eyes and blinks to make sure it is not a dream. She stands above him and her lips twist to say his name disapprovingly. "Oliver."

He looks around to see that he is lying on his teammate's couch, and the rest of his players chuckle at their captain's disorientation. She tells him that he has broken a couple of fingers, but that they had been taken care of.

When they leave his teammate's house, he pulls her aside, begging to talk to her. She agrees hesitantly and they Apparate to his place to discuss things over a cup of tea. He tells her everything that had happened that day and what had happened afterwards. He tells her that he has changed from being an arrogant and uncaring boy to someone better. He tells her what happened that day had been a mistake and that he has regretted it for the past couple of years. He begs her to forgive his stupidity but tells her he understands if the time apart has diminished her attraction to him. She shakes her head, and with a tearful smile, tells him that she has never forgotten about him, and no one has been able to replace the feelings she had during her time with him.

Oliver sweeps his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away the tears and places a gentle kiss on her forehead; he embraces her, asking her if they could start over.

And they do.

He puts everything he has into their rekindled relationship, never missing a birthday, never missing an anniversary, and never missing out on spending a holiday with her. He no longer waits for her to say I love you first before saying it. She can see the absolute adoration in his eyes whenever he sees her, and that makes her heart flutter with joy. He pulls her to the rooftop of their apartment so that they can watch the stars before they fall together.

His teammates slap him on the back when they see the simple but beautifully engraved ring that he buys. The teammate that had been her date to the celebration so long ago grins and says he is glad that he had helped reunite them.

And after winning the game that he insisted that she attend, he lights up the sky in flight with his wand and the help of his teammates. She slips her hands over her mouth when she sees the unmistakable letters drifting brightly in the sky, and the cries of Oliver! Oliver! by his fans are muted by her shock.

Before she knows it, he is floating in front of her, hand outstretched with a crooked smile across his handsome face. His eyebrow raises and snaps her out of her daze, prompting her to answer. She flings her arms around his neck, nearly toppling him over but of course, he has had years of practice. She nods against his chest, repeating the word yes over and over again. She feels him chuckle and wrap an arm securely around her waist to lift her onto his broom.

And in front of thousands, he slips the ring onto her fingers and steers the broom upwards, flying into the sky and the faded words of Will you marry me...

With her arms wrapped around his waist, she smiles, knowing that she will always be able to see one star that shines the brightest for her.