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Chapter 30: Chat with the past
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 17:50:32 +0000 UTCMarlene sat down next to Ryan, saying nothing for the first few seconds. She simply crossed her legs with composure.
Ryan glanced at her sideways, studying her more closely. She was beautiful. But not with the serene, quiet kind of beauty that Emmeline had.
Marlene carried an electric presence.
Her platinum-blonde hair, layered in a messy cascade that framed her face softly, her bold eyeliner accentuating eyes full of intensity and intent. That gaze… it could pierce steel and at the same time seem detached, as if nothing and no one could impress her. A wild beauty.
He had the memories of the former Ryan and, though they weren’t entirely his own, his body reacted whether he wanted it to or not. His chest rose, his skin tingled.
His instincts responded as if he were still in fourth year, as if she were still his girl. Strolls down the Hogwarts corridors, shared laughter at midnight, the sound of her laugh when something truly surprised her, the passionate kisses…
Ryan coughed softly. A clumsy attempt to break the impulse.
“Uh… Do you have business with me? Need an enchanted quill?” he asked, his voice laced with irony.
Marlene looked at him, her face void of humor. “No. I came to talk.”
“Talk about what exactly?”
“About what you should already imagine,” she said, crossing her arms with elegance.
He played dumb. As always. “About the price hike on spectacles? I can offer you a VIP client discount, if that’s the issue…”
“Ryan.”
One word, and Ryan stopped trying to deflect.
“We broke up,” she said, “because you didn’t want to change. Because I asked you plainly. It wasn’t much. Just that you stop wasting your talent, that you at least take responsibility for what you could do. And you refused to listen. You mocked me, saying that I, the supposed rebel, followed the same rules as everyone else.”
Ryan stared at her silently, his fingers brushing the edge of the book he had closed minutes earlier.
“And now,” she continued, “look at you.”
Her voice wasn’t accusatory. It was wounded, confused.
“You take classes seriously. You’ve become an inventor. You earn points for Gryffindor. You’re no longer late. You’re not… lost.”
A silence fell.
“I don’t understand what changed. And the worst part,” she added, lowering her voice slightly, “is that… it hurts. Because yes, you changed. But you did it when we were no longer together.”
Ryan didn’t know what to say.
I’m not your Ryan… my friend, he thought.
Not the one she had known. Not entirely. His humor was the same, yes. His sarcasm, his ego, too.
But he wasn’t a slacker. Nor a rebel without a cause. He was a capitalist disguised as a nonconformist.
An obsessive with plans. With vision and urgency.
As he looked at her, he noticed the sadness in her eyes. Confusion in someone who was usually impenetrable.
She, raised among four brothers, strong as a wall. She was lowering her guard. For him. And without thinking too much, he reached for her hand.
He took it calmly.
She didn’t pull away.
“I won’t lie to you,” Ryan finally said, meeting her gaze, “I didn’t change because of that comment you made. Nor because you left me. It wasn’t that simple.”
He saw her blink once. Attentive. Waiting for the rest.
“But you leaving… that did matter to me. Much more than I wanted to admit.”
His tone softened. His voice grew gentler.
“A part of me changed because of that. Because it hurt. And the rest… well. I suppose it was a mix of other things. The pressure of being an Ollivander. My mother, who’s a brilliant academic. She’s always been sweet, but I don’t want to disappoint her. My uncle is a squib. I don’t want him to think I wasted what he never had. And my grandparents… they never said anything. But you don’t need words to feel you might let them down.”
He didn’t know why he was telling her all this.
Perhaps out of respect for the former Ryan, the one who had truly fallen in love with her. He didn’t want to be cold and indifferent when she was showing this side of herself.
Marlene nodded slowly. Her hand still in his.
“I’m glad then,” she said at last, “that you realized it. That you changed. Not just for me… for yourself as well.”
Her expression had shifted. She no longer looked confused or hurt. Just calm. As if she could finally accept what she saw.
Ryan loosened his fingers. He gently pulled his hand away from hers, almost subtly. Not coldly, but with the awareness that it wasn’t a gesture meant to confuse.
They weren’t going to get back together that day. Maybe never. But whatever had been between them no longer hurt.
To lighten the tension, he raised an eyebrow and said with a half-smile, “So? Do you finally want to buy an enchanted quill from me?”
Marlene let out a soft laugh. “Actually… yes. I’m tired of seeing the girls in the common room using them, writing in the air like it’s art. And I’m like an idiot, scratching things out with ink and parchment.”
“One must adapt to magical technology, even if that means buying from your genius ex-boyfriend,” Ryan said.
“Whoa, your ego’s the same as before, no, I’d say even bigger,” Marlene laughed, because even though he was an egotistical idiot, he was funny and charming.
Ryan just arched his eyebrows as if to say, that’s how it is.
“Do you have any left, or are you out of stock?” Marlene added.
Ryan looked at her for a moment. He thought of everything Marlene had done for the previous Ryan.
The effort she put into getting him to class. The times she covered for his tardiness, the excuses she invented, the late nights when she forced him to study.
If it hadn’t been for her, last year he wouldn’t have lost 35 points… he would’ve lost double.
He leaned to the side, rummaged through his robe, and pulled out a small dark leather case.
“You’re lucky. I’ve got one left. Eagle model. Standard edition… but elegant. Yellow,” he said, offering it without drama. “No need to pay me. Think of it as a late thank you for all the times you saved my skin last year.”
Marlene took it. Not like someone receiving just any object, but with a hint of mock reverence. She opened it, pulled out the quill, and wrote in the air:
"Ollivander still owes me favors"
The letters floated in vibrant yellow.
“So you give Emmeline a griffin quill,” Marlene said with feigned innocence, “and me, the one who saved you like ten times from being expelled for tardiness, you hand me an eagle quill. I just love how you measure the hierarchy of sacrifice.”
Ryan paused. He closed his eyes for a second and recalled the scene in Transfiguration.
Him, offering Emmeline the quill as if it were worth nothing but a “crumb.”
His expression twisted into a resigned grimace. Marlene burst into a low, genuine laugh, as if she hadn’t expected him to answer seriously. She only wanted to tease him a bit.
But Ryan, with his pride intact and his ego built like a marble tower, snatched the eagle quill from her hand without warning and tucked it back into his inner pocket.
“You’re right. Your sacrifices to keep me from losing points or having McGonagall turn me into a toad are worth more than a simple eagle quill…” he said, rummaging through the other side of his robe.
He pulled out another case. A more elegant one, with silver details and a clasp. He opened it, and inside rested a griffin quill, identical to Emmeline’s.
He offered it with a clean gesture.
Marlene blinked. She hadn’t expected that.
“I was joking…” Marlene finally said, taking the case with a mix of surprise and gratitude. “You didn’t have to, really. I loved the other one.”
“It’s just a twenty-galleon griffin quill,” Ryan replied, waving his hand dismissively as if he were talking about a Honeydukes sweet.
“Didn’t it cost two hundred and fifty? Special offer?” Marlene asked, amused, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. For everyone else.” He glanced at her sideways. “Since I make them, they only cost twenty galleons… and a certain amount of my time, which is a secret.”
Marlene laughed, lifted the quill, and wrote in the air with an elegant, golden, vibrant stroke:
"Ollivander, don’t get into debt trying to impress girls with your money"
The golden letters floated gracefully, teasingly, hanging in the air like a magical warning that would last a good eight hours if no one dispersed it.
Ryan watched her and smiled, tilting his head slightly.
“I only give gifts to girls who deserve them,” he replied with calm cheekiness, crossing his arms.
Marlene lowered her gaze for a moment, holding back another laugh. Then she slipped the quill back into its case with a smooth motion, stood up, and met his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“See you at dinner,” she said as she turned away.
“See you.”
Marlene walked off with confident steps along the stone path.
