Redniro
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Chapter 64
🕑 Added 2025-11-17 18:05:24 +0000 UTC[POV Lily Evans]
And even though I liked being home, seeing my parents, Petunia (more or less), and sleeping without having to wake up at six in the morning, a big part of me wanted to go back.
The train to Hogwarts had that mix of chaos, excitement, and winter cold that I always enjoy. Trunks everywhere, cats and owls in cages, people running on the platform as if the train were about to take off into the sky.
I met up with Mary and my other friends and we found a compartment in the middle of the train.
Mary sat by the window, her red scarf wrapped around her like an emotional seatbelt. Karen leaned back on the opposite seat, eating half of a chocolate frog. And Rihanna sat next to me with her legs crossed on top of her trunk, sharpening her honesty with that “today I'm not holding back” face.
“So?” Karen said with a feline little smile as soon as I settled in. “Did you bring them?”
I raised an eyebrow, though I already knew exactly what she meant.
“The glasses? Obviously. They’re really useful for studying. Especially with OWLs coming up.” I smiled as I said it, because it was true. I’d used them all break.
“Show them, show them!” Mary asked excitedly, practically patting her knees like a little kid.
I made a doubtful face. Not because I didn’t want to show them, but because… I don’t know. Seventy Galleons. It was like carrying a tiny treasure. It reminded me of when I was little and didn’t want to lend out my new books in case the corners got bent.
“Oh, you don’t want to show them, Lily?” Karen teased. “Are you trying to hide the evidence that Ollivander is in love with you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous…” I muttered, already pulling the case out of the inner pocket of my robes. The leather had little bite marks, courtesy of Gingersnap.
I opened the case slowly and showed them.
“Whoa… they’re gorgeous,” Mary exclaimed. “And they match you, that dark maroon color… it’s like your hair on a cloudy day!”
“Yeah, they suit you like someone who looks at you a lot designed them,” Karen added, narrowing her eyes.
“That’s exactly what happened,” Rihanna cut in, as casually as other people comment on the weather. “Ollivander made them for you. Personalized. With your initials. And for free. Not even your soulmate would do that before confessing.”
I shrank a little, looking at the glasses.
“They’re not that special…” I murmured. Lie. They were. “Ryan is… just generous. He likes showing off his inventions. You know how he is.”
“Right, sure,” Karen said, rolling her eyes. “Then why did he charge the sixth-year prefect 70 Galleons for a pair without initials? I saw them with my own eyes. He bragged about them like a trophy, but he didn’t even dare leave them on the table.”
“And Dorcas doesn’t have personalized ones either,” Rihanna added, crossing her arms. “I asked her to show me. Not a single engraved letter. Yours are unique.”
Rihanna was friends with Dorcas since they were both on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
I tried to defend myself. Even though I wasn’t convinced either.
“Well, I helped him with the trial thing, with the riddle. He gave me a discount on the quill. He said he made them thinking of me, of my study habits… It’s not that strange.”
“Not that strange?” Rihanna repeated, one eyebrow raised. “A boy who watches you enough to know your reading pace, your colors, your habits, and gives you a gift that costs half my father’s monthly salary… That’s not gratitude. That’s a serenade disguised as an invention.”
Karen choked laughing. “A serenade disguised as an invention! That’s the most poetic thing you’ve ever said, Ri!”
“Don’t exaggerate!” I protested, hiding half my face in my scarf.
“You know what’s the sweetest part?” Mary continued, eyes shining. “That he doesn’t do it in an obvious way. He didn’t throw himself at you. He didn’t ask you out. He just… stays there. With his letters. His sarcasm. His gifts. Waiting for you to notice too.”
“I did notice,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I bit my lip immediately afterward.
“Aha…” Karen said, stretching out the syllable with wicked delight.
“How long have you known each other? Three months?” Mary asked, counting on her fingers. “First you saw how he defended that Hufflepuff student by defeating Mulciber and Rosier. Then the trial. Then the punishment. Then the casual chats in the common room. Now over break you write each other letters, and he sent you an expensive personalized gift for Christmas. And on top of that he wrote in a letter that you’re the prettiest redhead in Hogwarts! What else do you want? For him to build you a tower and fly you up there on a magic carpet?”
“Mary!” I protested, though I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“Seriously,” Rihanna said, softer now. “What about you? Do you like him?”
I fell silent. The glasses were resting on my lap. I looked at them. My initials. My favorite color. An absurd level of comfort for reading. All designed for me. Made by him.
“It’s Ryan…” I murmured. “Sometimes he’s charming. Sometimes he drives me up the wall. And sometimes he says things that make me think yes, he does feel something for me. But he doesn’t do anything beyond that. He doesn’t make a move. He doesn’t try.”
“Because he’s probably waiting for you to show something too,” Rihanna said bluntly. “He won’t make a move if he thinks you’ll reject him.”
Mary leaned toward me, lowering her voice a little. “And if he asked you out in Hogsmeade? Would you say yes?”
I swallowed. The words felt stuck in my chest.
But I nodded. Just once.
Mary smiled like she’d just won the House Cup. Karen raised her chocolate frog box as if making a toast. And Rihanna nodded with a smile.
“And what if he doesn’t?” I asked suddenly, in a low voice. “What if he never takes the step? If he just stays there, waiting for something he’s too afraid to ask for?”
Mary looked at me with a tenderness she rarely showed. “Then you have to give him a sign,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something that lets him know he won’t crash and burn if he jumps.”
“Right,” Karen said suddenly, snapping her fingers. “The gift!”
I turned to her. “What gift?”
Karen rolled her eyes. “The one you said you made over break! Didn’t you tell us you prepared something for him? Something you made thinking of him?”
“Oh…” I exhaled, surprised they remembered. “Yeah. I have it in the trunk. I wrapped it before coming back. It’s not expensive or magical, but… I made it. Thinking of him.”
“And are you going to give it to him?” Rihanna asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Yes,” I said. This time without hesitation. “When I see him. I’m going to give it to him. Besides, I already told him I’d made something for him.”
“Well, there’s your sign,” Mary said with a soft smile. “You’re giving him something of yours. Personal. Made by you. Who else have you ever given something like that to?”
I stayed quiet.
Karen looked at me mischievously, swinging her legs. “No one else, right?”
I shook my head. I felt heat rising from my neck.
“Then that’s settled,” Rihanna concluded, as if everything were already solved. “Give him the gift. And if he has even one functioning brain cell, he’ll get it.”
“And if he doesn’t,” Karen added with her usual carefree shrug, “then it’s his loss.”
We all laughed. The four of us. Not loudly, but in that conspiratorial way that leaves your chest lighter.
Mary, still smiling, added:
“Besides, we’re talking about Ryan Ollivander. It’s not like he’s a shy boy who misses hints. He gave a speech at that trial that left all of Slytherin speechless. He’s got the oratory of a minister and the confidence of a Gryffindor who walks like he owns the castle. Do you really think he’ll need more clues?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said, sighing with a half-smile. “He’s not exactly an introverted boy.”
“But you still have to hurry,” Rihanna said, lowering her voice as if we were entering delicate territory. “Dorcas told me something the other day… about Marlene.”
We looked at her. Mary tilted her head.
“What about Marlene?”
Rihanna crossed her arms.
“It seems she’s looking at him differently lately. Since the start of the term, with everything that’s happened… the trial, the quills, the inventions, the points he’s been earning… Marlene’s been saying that Ryan ‘matured.’ That ‘now he actually has ambition.’”
Karen snorted. “Marlene McKinnon? His ex?”
“Mm-hmm,” Rihanna nodded. “They went out last year. But according to Dorcas, they broke up because Marlene said he never took anything seriously. That it was all fun and charm, no thought for the future.”
“And now that he is taking things seriously…” I murmured.
“Now that he’s a successful entrepreneur with half of Hogwarts using his magical quills and every new invention better than the last…” Mary completed, “she’s interested again.”
Rihanna nodded, matter-of-factly.
“Yes. I’m not telling you this to pressure you. Just so you don’t miss your moment. He likes you, that’s obvious. But if you don’t do anything and he convinces himself you only see him as a friend, and right in that space his ex shows up saying she now appreciates him, well. You get it.”
I stayed silent, looking out the window. The sky was darker now, closer to snow.
Rihanna’s words stung a little, not because she was cruel (she wasn’t), but because she was right.
“What I still don’t understand,” Karen said, stretching like a lazy cat, “is how you, Lily Evans, ended up hypnotized by someone like Ryan Ollivander.”
I turned toward her with an arched eyebrow. Mary looked at her too, curious.
Karen smiled with that don’t hate me for saying it expression of hers.
“It’s just… what he did for that Hufflepuff girl was amazing. A heroic moment. Stepping in to defend her, disarming Rosier and Mulciber like they were amateurs, the trial and blah blah blah. Straight out of a movie.”
“I know,” I murmured.
“And let’s admit it,” Karen went on, waving her hand in the air as if drawing Ryan’s profile, “he’s good-looking. Very good-looking. That confidence of his, right on the edge of arrogance, like the castle is too small for him. He walks like he knows everyone is looking at him. And a lot of people are.”
“Are you going to say something or are you planning on marrying him?” Mary asked with a raised eyebrow.
Karen burst out laughing.
“No, no, thanks. I’m just saying I’m surprised. Because even if he’s done amazing things, he still has that attitude of ‘I’m better than everyone.’”
Ryan had that air of a genius who knew it, and made no effort to hide it.
Karen shrugged.
“And what gets me is that you always said you couldn’t stand arrogant boys. That you hated them.”
Mary nodded, remembering it too.
“You get where I’m going? Arrogant boys. One in our year. Hint: his surname starts with P and ends with otter.”
The others nodded. “And don’t forget Sirius, he’s no better,” Mary added.
“That too, yes, but every time James comes near you for whatever reason, Lily, you sigh like you need a calming potion not to throw your book at his head,” Karen said, amused.
“Because he’s unbearable,” I snapped, as if on reflex. “James walks around delighted to be the center of the universe. Making jokes in class, dropping questionable comments, casting unnecessary spells just to show off. Always with that little grin that says ‘look at me, I’m James Potter, Gryffindor’s golden boy.’”
“And Ryan…” Karen said, turning her head toward me, “doesn’t he have a bit of that too?”
I stayed silent a second, thinking.
“Yes,” I finally admitted. “He has a bit of that. But he’s… different.”
“Different how?” Mary asked with genuine curiosity, not just gossip.
“I don’t know,” I said, lowering my voice a little. “James wants attention all the time. He likes to impress. He’s loud. Like a kid who needs to be looked at to feel important.”
“And Ryan, he is arrogant, yes. But his arrogance isn’t for attention. It’s like, he doesn’t need to try. It’s the way he walks, the way he talks, the way he stays quiet. He’s not trying to make everyone look at him. But they do anyway.”
I shifted in my seat, thinking about what I’d just said.
“It’s like, he doesn’t act like someone who wants to stand out—he acts like someone who knows he already does.”
Mary smiled. “Then yes. You’re totally gone for him.”
“No!” I protested. “Well… maybe a little.”
Karen laughed. “I knew it!”
Rihanna, who had been quietly listening with her arms crossed, looked out the closed window.
“And speaking of the devil…”
Her words hung in the air. We turned toward her.
Rihanna nodded at the glass, barely a gesture.
“There he comes.”
I leaned in a little, shifting my cloak. The glass was cold to the touch. And yes, there he was.
Ryan Ollivander.
Without his usual sunglasses, which was already strange on its own, and with his usual lazy stride.
But he wasn’t alone. Walking beside him was a woman.
She looked about thirty-five, maybe a little older. She wore an elegant dark-blue robe, her hair perfectly pinned up, untouched even by the icy wind, and an expression that did not allow mistakes. Beautiful in a way that wasn’t trying to be: natural, understated, impeccable.
She had smooth golden hair that shone under the dim station lights. Grey eyes that seemed capable of analyzing you down to your soul. A straight posture, steady steps, a presence you could feel even from inside our compartment. Almost as if magic itself avoided getting in her way.
And then I saw it clearly.
It was him.
Or rather… he was her.
Ryan didn’t just resemble her. Ryan was her in teenage, male form, with a bit more contained chaos.
The way he walked, the serene expression with arrogance barely hidden, the way he observed his surroundings without looking directly at anyone.
Karen whistled under her breath. “Woooow, now I know where he gets the looks and the arrogance.”
“You don’t know her? That’s his mother, Iris Ollivander. She was in the Applied Transfiguration Journal last year. My cousin showed me. She’s an academic transfigurist, brilliant. She publishes complex papers. Even Durmstrang respects her, and that says a lot…” Rihanna explained.
“And no wonder the boy walks like the school was built for him,” Mary said. “Growing up with a mother like that must boost your ego by osmosis.”
They exchanged a few words and then Iris touched his cheek for a second, an automatic gesture, before walking away with a cape movement so perfect it looked choreographed.
Ryan began walking with his trunk and owl cage, looking into each compartment as if evaluating which one to enter. He was getting closer to our window.
And then, when he passed right beneath us, the unthinkable happened.
Rihanna slid the window open in one sharp motion.
“Hey, Ollivander!” she shouted as if she’d known him her whole life.
I whipped around, eyes wide.
“Rihanna!?” Mary, Karen, and I said almost at the same time.
The cold air rushed in like a blast of frost, whipping our hair around, but she didn’t seem to care. She waved her hand like she was calling any random classmate.
Ryan stopped. Turned his head slowly, eyebrows slightly raised, as if trying to recognize her. Then his gaze landed on me and he seemed to put the pieces together.
“I’m Rihanna. Sit with us, your friend Lily is here,” she said, pointing at me with shameless confidence.
I froze in my seat. Mary stared at me with huge eyes. Karen’s mouth fell open, speechless.
Ryan smiled faintly, tilting his head just a little.
“Hello, Lily,” he greeted, calm.
“Hi,” I managed to say, though my voice barely came out.
“All right, I’ll sit with you,” he added, disappearing from view as he boarded the train.
Only a few seconds passed. And then, the sliding door of our compartment opened smoothly.
“Excuse me,” Ryan said, poking his head in first with the owl cage. His tone was polite but relaxed, as if this were the most natural thing in the world: spending an eight-hour trip with four girls he didn’t know—well, he knew me, and I already considered him someone close. But the others? He didn’t even know their names.
He placed the cage carefully on the upper rack and, with effortless ease, lifted his trunk up as well, not even a grunt. Then he sat down right in the seat across from me, next to Rihanna and Karen.
“Thanks for inviting me,” he told Rihanna, who smiled with a mix of triumph and satisfaction.
