Either the air in the castle had changed, or it was just you.
You no longer looked for them in the corridors. You stopped waiting by that tree. You stopped wondering what you had done wrong.
You finally realised it wasn’t about what you did.
It was about what they didn’t do.
Eventually, the silence stopped stinging.
Then something else happened.
Seamus offered you a seat beside him in Charms. Dean asked if you wanted to walk to class with them. Neville started saving you a spot in Herbology. Harry and Ron were always kind to you; their friendship was a reminder that loyalty could come from the most unexpected places.
Finally, Oliver arrived.
He wasn’t loud, but he was present.
He remembered how you took your tea. He asked how your day had been and actually listened.
When your hands shook before a big presentation, he nudged you and said, “They'd be lucky to hear your voice.”
For the first time in weeks, you believed him.
One afternoon, while you were sitting in the courtyard, a leaf landed in your hair. He brushed it away gently and you smiled.
Mattheo paused mid-step across the grass. It was the softness in your eyes that tore him apart. You used to look at him like that.
Before the new girl came along. Before everything changed.
Draco saw you next to the library entrance, with Oliver helping you to shelve a book that was just out of your reach.
You were close. Closer than he liked.
Draco told himself it didn't matter, but his hands curled into fists and he left without the book he had come for.
Theo saw you in the corridor with Dean and Seamus beside you, but you didn’t look up.
He noticed, however, the way you glowed. It rattled him deeply.
You weren't walking as though you were trying to fit in anymore.
You already did.
Blaise watched you during breakfast one morning. You were leaning into Oliver, whispering something that made him laugh.
What he was feeling wasn’t exactly jealousy; it was something colder. Regret.
Lorenzo tried to act as if he hadn't seen you. He made a joke at the table about how loud and clingy you were, but it fell flat.
No one laughed.
His gaze flicked across the room to where you were laughing freely, surrounded by people who chose you every day.
And Regulus? Of course he noticed.
He saw you passing through the courtyard with Oliver, his hand brushing yours.
He remembered the late nights spent in the Astr0nomy Tower, with your head resting on his shoulder. He remembered how you never asked too much of him, yet gave him everything anyway.
Now, someone else was holding you far too carefully.
Tom watched you walk past, carrying your books under your arm.
You didn't even glance his way.
The silence that followed bothered him more than he expected.
But none of them said a word.
That’s when Barty appeared.
You were in the library late, wandering around the restr!cted section, when he emerged from between two shelves.
“You don't belong here,” he said.
You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. “Neither do you.”
He chuckled softly. “Well, then, I guess we’re both a little lost.”
You didn’t answer, but neither did you move away.
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I always thought they were id!ots.”
“Who?” you asked.
Without breaking eye contact, he smirked. “The ones who let someone like you slip through their fingers.”
Hidden away at the far end of the library, Regulus stood with his jaw tight and his fists clenched.
Beside him, Mattheo leaned against the shelf with his arms crossed.
Regulus wasn’t sure which unsettled him more: the way Barty had spoken to you, so casually flirtatious… or the fact that you hadn’t shut him down.
That you’d let him.
Mattheo saw it, too. He didn’t move or blink, but there was a flicker of something so close to jealousy in his expression.
Regulus exhaled through his nose. “She used to look at us like that.”
Mattheo muttered. “We taught her how to forget us, and now we hate that she learned.”