harry potter boys reaction

second chance trope (oliver's version)

Pt 4:
The way back to the dormitories was rather quiet, for Oliver felt that you were still hesitant and did not want to push you.
"How about we talk after class?", was the only thing he had said, and the only thing you had said was a quiet "yes", and then you parted ways, both of you climbing up the stairs to your dorms.
And for the first nights in weeks, both of you slept through.
Making it through classes was tiring, because you could not stop thinking about what's to come. The informations the teachers passed faded out of your brain instantly, all the capacity already taken by different scenarios of how this talk with Oliver might go.
You did not know which direction to take, but you knew for sure that you needed either a clean cut oder a fresh start, nothing in between.
You decide to wait for Oliver outside, at the stairs that lead into the castle. That is most likely where you would catch him, because his last lesson was Care for Magical Creatures with Hagrid.
Sitting on your robe to avoid the cold concrete stairs, you wait, wait, wait. Until you see a group of students nearing - some of them Gryffindors. None of them are the familiar figure you're waiting for.
With every student passing, you get a little more impatient. Can it really be that he decided to stroll and take his time, when he seemed so eager to have this conversation with you?
A little anger mixes into the confusion, and you gather your things. You hear a friend calling your name from inside the castle, and that attracts someone's attention: a Hufflepuff that also came down from Hagrids lesson. When you walk past him, he grabs your wrist. "Sorry, but are you the y/n?", he asks.
You raise a brow and nod. "Why do you want to know?"
He pulls his hand back and says: "I overheard Oliver Wood talking about you earlier. Um- it's not my business, but just that you know: He did not stood you up."
"And where is he then? Because it really looks like that.", you reply, sounding bitter.
"Hagrid showed us the Hippogryphs, and another Gryffindor upset them, and... well, Oliver tried to pull the Gryffindor away and got hurt. He's-"
You already know where to find Oliver and run up the stairs as quickly as possible. You head what had happened to Malfoy last year when he insulted a Hippogryph, that's why Dumbledore decided to introduce those to older students only.
The way to the infirmary seems to stretch, the way seems endless but eventually, when you run around the last corner, you almost crash into Hagrid and know your guess was right. His giant upper body is covered in blood- Oliver's blood, you realize with a shudder.
When you barge into the quiet room, you spot Oliver instantly lying on a bed, the originally white linen now the color of a horrific dark red.
Worry steals your breath away as you near and take in the paleness of his skin.
The shirt is ripped to shreds on his chest, but you eventually realize that the blood flow stopped. For a second, you thinks it's because he is drained from blood, drained from life, but then you see his chest rising and falling, rising and falling.
Madame Pomfrey gently maneuvers to aside and sets down a glass of water and a pill on the nightstand. "He will be fine.", she says with a reassuring smile.
With a flick of her wand, Oliver's shirt is gone. Another flick, and the blood is gone too, the sheets back to white, and what's way more important: The skin, where the claws of the Hippogryph ripped his skin open, is slightly reddened, but healed.
Only now it sinks in that he is indeed fine.
When Madame Pomfrey is gone, you monitor the rising and falling of his chest, an evidence of life, and you have never been so relieved by something that simple.

Pt 5 (last part):
The happy laughter coming in trough the open window of the infirmary is a stark contrast to your own innermost. Worry still has you in a heavy grip, even hours after Oliver got healed by Madame Pomfrey. He is still in asleep, only that his unconscious turned into a simple slumber; that much you can tell from how he tossed and turned 30 minutes ago, waking you up from your own short rest.
Now you're sitting beside his bed, one elbow resting on the mattress and your head resting on the palm of your hand.
Oliver is laying on his back, his mouth slightly opened in his sleep. Your right hand is floating in the air, a few centimeters from his face away and the warm air he breathes out brushes your fingers in a steady, calming rhythm.
It helps easing your nerves; it helps letting you forgot that for a few minutes, you actually thought Oliver was going to die and you would have to life in a world where he does not exist anymore.
But he does exist. He is alive.
You are thankful for every breath that hits your fingers and you silently wait for Oliver to wake up.
And finally, one endless hours later, he eventually starts stirring and then, at last, his eyelids flutter open. He groans from the light but before he can close them again, a softly smiling, beautiful face covers his line of sight.
"Ollie.", you whisper. "God, you're finally awake."
You tenderly brush a strand of hair away that clings to his cheek and rest your hand there to cup it.
He just looks up at you, to mesmerized by your touch to say a word.
"Can you say something? How are you?"
Only when he sees the concern evident in your big eyes, he snaps out of his trance and clears his throat. "Uhm- I'm fine I guess."
You help him to sit up and stabilize his back with a pillow you snatch from another bed before you sit down next to him, only taking in every detail of his face. Seeing him awake, hearing his voice - it takes away the rest of your worries and fear, until you can't help but to smile widely.
"Do you need anything?", you ask after a minute or two.
He smiles smugly, saying the first thing that comes to his mind. "I would love a kiss, but a glass of water will do two.o.."
You roll your eyes at him. "At least your humor is not broken. Handing him a cup of water, you return his smile. "How about we have our talk first and then we see about the kiss?"
His smile widens only and he takes a mouthful of water as he gestures for you to start talking.
"Well...I wasn't sure if we have a chance anymore, Oliver."
"But-"
You put a hand in the air to stop him from taking, which he does immediately. "Don't interrupt me, please. I was speaking past tense, because-"
Inching closer, you take one of his hands in yours, tracing the lines on his palms. "...because I know that we need to make it work."
He tilts his head, trying to read the informations in your face. "Do you mean us? That we need to make us work?"
You nod slowly. "Yes.", you add. "I'm not naive, Ollie. I don't assume that we will be back to normal just like that. But I was so afraid you were going to die it broke my heart. It made me realize that I want to give you a second chance."
Before you can even take a breath, you are pulled into a bone-crashing hug. "Yes. That's all I wanted to hear. I swear on everything that I will make it count. I will prove myself to you I'm every way possible.", he murmurs against your shoulder where Oliver buried his face to fight the stinging tears in his eyes. "I missed you so, so much."
You pull back. "I missed you too. Don't make me regret this."
He nods eagerly. "I won't, I promise."
Now you smile wickedly at him. "So, now about that ki-"
Soft lips meet yours as Oliver captures yours in a sweet, gentle kiss that has you erupting in goosebumps. You didn't realize how much you missed his kisses.
"I love you, y/n.", he whispers against your lips.
"I love you, Ollie.", you say against his.