Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Oliver Wood and the Muggleborn's Wand
Avaddar Caddavar
0 reviews"Don't touch me! Don't want to talk about what the Ministry's got you doing, eh! They send you to spy on me, see if the lad who set off the mark is really a Death Eater or just off his rocker?!"
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Oliver Wood and the Muggleborn's Wand
Chapter 5: Avaddar Caddavar
Alhazred - ssjDOTAlhazredATgmailDOTcom
Not For Profit work. Harry Potter and related materials © J.K. Rowling.
Oliver hadn't realized how much of his belongings consisted of Quidditch paraphernalia. Still, he didn't mind. He was a professional Quidditch player, after all.
His flat just had a little too much wall space for his stuff to fill. He opted to put most of it in his bedroom; better to go to sleep thinking about Quidditch and then have it be the first thing he saw waking up. The red Gryffindor and navy-blue Puddlemere banners clashed horribly, but he didn't care.
The pictures were more important. A picture of his Gryffindor team went onto the nightstand without question, the smiling players all fidgeting excitedly amongst each other. Katie and Fred waved at him sometimes.
He put Katie's wand on the bureau. Next to it, he set a picture of the two of them taken with a Muggle camera, by her parents. Between them, he put the engagement ring he'd given her. Like the ring, the setup wasn't the most impressive thing in the world; he somehow imagined it would have more glamour to it, even though this was exactly what he'd planned to do. Still, it was more than enough.
Like the ring had been more than enough for her.
Thinking of her parents, Oliver wondered if he should contact them. Being Muggles, he was sure they were only told about what happened to their daughter. Oliver wasn't really listed as her next-of-kin anywhere now, was he? Once she'd been tallied with the dead, he imagined they were either sent a letter via Muggle post or had a visit from an Auror. Probably the letter, considering how busy all the Aurors probably were right now trying to organize everything into something that made sense.
A thought came to Oliver, so horrible that it made him feel sick; what if Katie's parents hadn't been told at all yet?
Without warning, Oliver's pocket started shaking. Not having any enchanted shaking things in his pockets that he was aware of, he jumped, startled out of his mind, and grabbed for the offending object so forcefully that he ended up throwing up into the air when he pulled it out.
Fortunately, Oliver caught his cell phone before it crashed to the floor. "Bugger! Gotta tell this thing to just make noise instead of..."
His spoken thoughts faded as he got a look at the Caller-ID, clearly displaying "Weasley, Percy." When did Percy get a Muggle phone? When did Percy contact him? After school, Percy had been more than a little absorbed in his work. Oliver's surprise, in no small part due to the fact that his heart was still beating a million times a minute, came through when he answered the call. "Percy?"
Percy's response was curt as ever. "Oliver. How are you?"
"Uh, fine, I guess," Oliver said, not really wishing to get into any of that over the phone. "How'd you get my number?"
"I sent an owl to you at your parents house, didn't know where you were since Quidditch hasn't started up yet," Percy answered. "They sent me back your number."
Oliver remembered, at this particular time, just why he had his phone set to shake instead of make noise. The noise would never stop with his parents calling him day-in and day-out to make sure he was okay. It was almost as bad as the pile of letters growing on the table. Did they not realize he didn't have access to an outgoing owl here? "Oh, well...that works, I guess."
"Listen," Percy sighed. He sounded worn-out. "I was hoping we could catch up, my boss just ordered me to take some down-time, work's been a little...hectic, I just don't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, sure," Oliver said. "Where do you want to meet?"
Percy asked, "Leaky Cauldron good for you? Lunch on me?"
"Right, I'll be there in a few." One thumb on the hang-up button, Oliver said, "See you there."
As if on cue, his phone shook again, the Caller-ID displaying his parents' number. He was sure they knew their way around the phone less than he did himself, and they'd just memorized the button combination that equaled 'bother Oliver.'
Briefly, Oliver contemplated leaving it behind, but he threw it back into his pocket anyway. Stopping off in the living room, he threw his jacket on, shoved his feet into his trainers, and pointed his wand at the door. "Colloportus."
He just couldn't shake that slight paranoia; it was becoming a bad habit. This accomplished, he apparated from the spot.
Oliver had chosen Diagon Alley as his destination rather than the pub itself. He felt like a walk, even if it wasn't a very far walk. He made sure to arrive between the end of the alley and "Quality Quidditch Supplies," lest he be tempted to burn money on things he just didn't need.
It was good to see the street bearing some resemblance to normalcy. Shops were re-opening, people were out and about, even "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" was open for business, but Oliver couldn't muster the strength to go inside. There was scarcely a sign of the massacre.
Percy, as it turned out, was already at the Leaky Cauldron. He'd gotten a table and waved Oliver over as soon as he walked in. "Oliver...I guess your parents weren't kidding when they said you'd moved to a Muggle neighborhood."
Glancing down at himself, Oliver tugged at his jacket. It was certainly a contrast to Percy's pristine robes, but the look on Percy's face was also a contrast to those robes, as well. Percy was worn ragged, and he looked ten years older than he actually was. "Aw, shut up, Perc. You're not one to talk about looks. Have you slept lately?"
"Not really," Percy managed a smile. Despite everything, he was still proud of overworking himself. "Lots to do at the Ministry, you can imagine. Kingsley has me running around trying to...well, it's not important. I mean, it is, I just don't want to talk about it."
Not for the first time in the recent past, Oliver was reminded of how he'd changed with the world around him. Whether it was simply growing up, or being shaped by the world, he didn't know. It was frightening to see this same change in Percy, though. Here he was, assistant to the Minister (or interim Minister, in Kingsley's case,) and he wasn't bragging about the tasks assigned to him.
Oliver desperately wanted to say something about Fred, offer the condolences he'd been too much of a coward to say after the battle had ended. He still couldn't muster the courage.
It was halfway through lunch when Oliver finally thought of something innocuous to say. "So..Thicknesse still around at all?"
"Merlin's sake, no," Percy nearly laughed. Nearly. "Imperioused or not, no one wants to see his face around any position of authority. A shame, really...being lambasted so hard for something that wasn't really his fault, but that's the way the world works sometimes."
"Yeah" Oliver stared down at his plate. Did people die because that was the way the world worked, too? "Yeah..."
If Percy knew what Oliver was thinking, he didn't act on it. "Hey, Oliver...can I ask you something?"
Nodding, Oliver watched Percy glance about, as though he were worried someone might overhear. When Percy leaned in, Oliver did as well, expecting some grand, exciting secret. "What?"
"Is it true?" Stumbling over the words, Percy went on, "You were...you set off the Dark Mark after the fight?"
Suddenly, Oliver thought back to what Percy had said about his current job, that Kingsley had him 'running around' doing something. Running around chasing loose ends and questionable behavior? Hadn't the Knight Bus' conductor gotten thrown into Azkaban for less even before everything had hit the fan? "T'hell with you!"
Bolting from his chair, Oliver made for the entrance back into the alley. He was thankful another wizard had already opened it, because he really, really didn't want to stop and wait for the bricks to shift. Being thankful didn't stop him from rudely shoving his way by, hearing Percy call after him.
"Oliver.../Oliver!/" Percy was faster than he'd expected. Catching up once Oliver was stomping further into Diagon Alley, Percy grabbed an arm and spun him around.
This didn't prove very effective; Oliver was bigger than Percy was, after all. Wrenching his arm away violently, Oliver practically screamed at him, eyes bulging. "Don't touch me! Don't want to talk about what the Ministry's got you doing, eh! They send you to spy on me, see if the lad who set off the mark is really a Death Eater or just off his rocker?!"
"What? No," Barely moving, Percy looked like he didn't quite know what was going on. "I just wanted to know! There's so many rumors, Oliver, and why..."
Not buying a word of it, barely even hearing him, Oliver did not calm down. "What then! Why else wouldn't you say!"
"I'm tallying the dead," Oliver!" Percy had raised his voice as well by now, more to make sure Oliver heard the words. He was too shocked to be angry, and he regretted saying that so loudly as soon as it left his mouth. It certainly stopped Oliver cold, though, and Percy was rather thankful for that. "Owls to families with loved ones who won't be coming home, visits to Muggle houses where they don't have the faintest clue why their children haven't written them.../someone's/ got to make sure it gets done." Looking around, Percy could see that the few people gathering at the prospect of a scene were already moving on their way now. Letting out a sigh, he leaned against the wall of the Apothecary's building. "It's just...not something I wanted to talk about now that I have five minutes' peace."
Stunned, Oliver spent a long minute staring at him, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. "I..I.."
"Yeah," Percy waived him off. "Bloody hell, Oliver...what's gotten into you? I know you and Katie...never mind, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..."
Leaning against the wall himself, almost sliding down it, Oliver was still trying to catch his breath. Had he really just done that, snapped like that with no real, good reason? Pull yourself together, Wood! What's wrong with you? "I'm sorry about Fred," he blurted out, not even knowing why. "I'm so sorry..."
"Thank you," Percy answered.
"Katie," Oliver started. He couldn't talk fast, or he wouldn't be able to hold in the tears. "Katie was Muggleborn...her...her parents know, right? Do you know if they know? They're not..."
The obvious answer to this would've been for Percy to tell Oliver to go ask them himself, if he was that worried. Percy Weasley wasn't that cruel, though. Nor was he ignorant of what Oliver must've felt like. Regardless, the look on his tired face was strained, as if he had an aversion to staying here any longer just like Oliver back in the pub. "I'll check into it and make sure... why? Why the mark, after everything that's happened, why would you..."
"Because," Oliver wondered if he even knew the answer to that himself, "Because everyone deserves dignity, because I'd just murdered a man and I...wasn't thinking clearly..."
"It was war, Oliver," Percy said, quite matter-of-factly. "There's no murder in war, just..just death."
How Percy could say that after losing a brother, Oliver wasn't sure. He wasn't even very convincing. "No, I didn't have to, I could've stunned him, y'got time to aim the killing curse, y'got time to just stun the guy..."
The words 'killing curse' had slipped before Oliver realized what he was saying. That had been his secret, one he never intended to tell anyone, even if it should've been perfectly obvious. Would Percy be appalled? Would he go even further, hold him to the letter of the law and have him thrown into Azkaban for using an Unforgivable Curse, despite what he'd just said about war?
Much to his surprise, Percy didn't seem fazed. "Huh...I bet the incantation sounds ridiculous with your accent." Blinking his eyes twice, Oliver had to let it sink in that Percy had just cracked a joke, and an incredibly tasteless one, at that. Maybe he was channeling Fred. "I really should be going, though, I probably shouldn't have stayed out this long as it is, it's just going to keep piling up...don't worry so much about it, Oliver. It's not like you were the only one that night who killed."
Percy walked away just like that, leaving Oliver silent, remembering how he watched with everyone else as Voldemort tried to kill Harry and killed himself instead.
Feeling like he was somehow missing the point of what Percy was saying, he feebly raised a hand as if to wave when the word 'goodbye' just wouldn't leave his mouth.
Chapter 5: Avaddar Caddavar
Alhazred - ssjDOTAlhazredATgmailDOTcom
Not For Profit work. Harry Potter and related materials © J.K. Rowling.
Oliver hadn't realized how much of his belongings consisted of Quidditch paraphernalia. Still, he didn't mind. He was a professional Quidditch player, after all.
His flat just had a little too much wall space for his stuff to fill. He opted to put most of it in his bedroom; better to go to sleep thinking about Quidditch and then have it be the first thing he saw waking up. The red Gryffindor and navy-blue Puddlemere banners clashed horribly, but he didn't care.
The pictures were more important. A picture of his Gryffindor team went onto the nightstand without question, the smiling players all fidgeting excitedly amongst each other. Katie and Fred waved at him sometimes.
He put Katie's wand on the bureau. Next to it, he set a picture of the two of them taken with a Muggle camera, by her parents. Between them, he put the engagement ring he'd given her. Like the ring, the setup wasn't the most impressive thing in the world; he somehow imagined it would have more glamour to it, even though this was exactly what he'd planned to do. Still, it was more than enough.
Like the ring had been more than enough for her.
Thinking of her parents, Oliver wondered if he should contact them. Being Muggles, he was sure they were only told about what happened to their daughter. Oliver wasn't really listed as her next-of-kin anywhere now, was he? Once she'd been tallied with the dead, he imagined they were either sent a letter via Muggle post or had a visit from an Auror. Probably the letter, considering how busy all the Aurors probably were right now trying to organize everything into something that made sense.
A thought came to Oliver, so horrible that it made him feel sick; what if Katie's parents hadn't been told at all yet?
Without warning, Oliver's pocket started shaking. Not having any enchanted shaking things in his pockets that he was aware of, he jumped, startled out of his mind, and grabbed for the offending object so forcefully that he ended up throwing up into the air when he pulled it out.
Fortunately, Oliver caught his cell phone before it crashed to the floor. "Bugger! Gotta tell this thing to just make noise instead of..."
His spoken thoughts faded as he got a look at the Caller-ID, clearly displaying "Weasley, Percy." When did Percy get a Muggle phone? When did Percy contact him? After school, Percy had been more than a little absorbed in his work. Oliver's surprise, in no small part due to the fact that his heart was still beating a million times a minute, came through when he answered the call. "Percy?"
Percy's response was curt as ever. "Oliver. How are you?"
"Uh, fine, I guess," Oliver said, not really wishing to get into any of that over the phone. "How'd you get my number?"
"I sent an owl to you at your parents house, didn't know where you were since Quidditch hasn't started up yet," Percy answered. "They sent me back your number."
Oliver remembered, at this particular time, just why he had his phone set to shake instead of make noise. The noise would never stop with his parents calling him day-in and day-out to make sure he was okay. It was almost as bad as the pile of letters growing on the table. Did they not realize he didn't have access to an outgoing owl here? "Oh, well...that works, I guess."
"Listen," Percy sighed. He sounded worn-out. "I was hoping we could catch up, my boss just ordered me to take some down-time, work's been a little...hectic, I just don't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, sure," Oliver said. "Where do you want to meet?"
Percy asked, "Leaky Cauldron good for you? Lunch on me?"
"Right, I'll be there in a few." One thumb on the hang-up button, Oliver said, "See you there."
As if on cue, his phone shook again, the Caller-ID displaying his parents' number. He was sure they knew their way around the phone less than he did himself, and they'd just memorized the button combination that equaled 'bother Oliver.'
Briefly, Oliver contemplated leaving it behind, but he threw it back into his pocket anyway. Stopping off in the living room, he threw his jacket on, shoved his feet into his trainers, and pointed his wand at the door. "Colloportus."
He just couldn't shake that slight paranoia; it was becoming a bad habit. This accomplished, he apparated from the spot.
Oliver had chosen Diagon Alley as his destination rather than the pub itself. He felt like a walk, even if it wasn't a very far walk. He made sure to arrive between the end of the alley and "Quality Quidditch Supplies," lest he be tempted to burn money on things he just didn't need.
It was good to see the street bearing some resemblance to normalcy. Shops were re-opening, people were out and about, even "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" was open for business, but Oliver couldn't muster the strength to go inside. There was scarcely a sign of the massacre.
Percy, as it turned out, was already at the Leaky Cauldron. He'd gotten a table and waved Oliver over as soon as he walked in. "Oliver...I guess your parents weren't kidding when they said you'd moved to a Muggle neighborhood."
Glancing down at himself, Oliver tugged at his jacket. It was certainly a contrast to Percy's pristine robes, but the look on Percy's face was also a contrast to those robes, as well. Percy was worn ragged, and he looked ten years older than he actually was. "Aw, shut up, Perc. You're not one to talk about looks. Have you slept lately?"
"Not really," Percy managed a smile. Despite everything, he was still proud of overworking himself. "Lots to do at the Ministry, you can imagine. Kingsley has me running around trying to...well, it's not important. I mean, it is, I just don't want to talk about it."
Not for the first time in the recent past, Oliver was reminded of how he'd changed with the world around him. Whether it was simply growing up, or being shaped by the world, he didn't know. It was frightening to see this same change in Percy, though. Here he was, assistant to the Minister (or interim Minister, in Kingsley's case,) and he wasn't bragging about the tasks assigned to him.
Oliver desperately wanted to say something about Fred, offer the condolences he'd been too much of a coward to say after the battle had ended. He still couldn't muster the courage.
It was halfway through lunch when Oliver finally thought of something innocuous to say. "So..Thicknesse still around at all?"
"Merlin's sake, no," Percy nearly laughed. Nearly. "Imperioused or not, no one wants to see his face around any position of authority. A shame, really...being lambasted so hard for something that wasn't really his fault, but that's the way the world works sometimes."
"Yeah" Oliver stared down at his plate. Did people die because that was the way the world worked, too? "Yeah..."
If Percy knew what Oliver was thinking, he didn't act on it. "Hey, Oliver...can I ask you something?"
Nodding, Oliver watched Percy glance about, as though he were worried someone might overhear. When Percy leaned in, Oliver did as well, expecting some grand, exciting secret. "What?"
"Is it true?" Stumbling over the words, Percy went on, "You were...you set off the Dark Mark after the fight?"
Suddenly, Oliver thought back to what Percy had said about his current job, that Kingsley had him 'running around' doing something. Running around chasing loose ends and questionable behavior? Hadn't the Knight Bus' conductor gotten thrown into Azkaban for less even before everything had hit the fan? "T'hell with you!"
Bolting from his chair, Oliver made for the entrance back into the alley. He was thankful another wizard had already opened it, because he really, really didn't want to stop and wait for the bricks to shift. Being thankful didn't stop him from rudely shoving his way by, hearing Percy call after him.
"Oliver.../Oliver!/" Percy was faster than he'd expected. Catching up once Oliver was stomping further into Diagon Alley, Percy grabbed an arm and spun him around.
This didn't prove very effective; Oliver was bigger than Percy was, after all. Wrenching his arm away violently, Oliver practically screamed at him, eyes bulging. "Don't touch me! Don't want to talk about what the Ministry's got you doing, eh! They send you to spy on me, see if the lad who set off the mark is really a Death Eater or just off his rocker?!"
"What? No," Barely moving, Percy looked like he didn't quite know what was going on. "I just wanted to know! There's so many rumors, Oliver, and why..."
Not buying a word of it, barely even hearing him, Oliver did not calm down. "What then! Why else wouldn't you say!"
"I'm tallying the dead," Oliver!" Percy had raised his voice as well by now, more to make sure Oliver heard the words. He was too shocked to be angry, and he regretted saying that so loudly as soon as it left his mouth. It certainly stopped Oliver cold, though, and Percy was rather thankful for that. "Owls to families with loved ones who won't be coming home, visits to Muggle houses where they don't have the faintest clue why their children haven't written them.../someone's/ got to make sure it gets done." Looking around, Percy could see that the few people gathering at the prospect of a scene were already moving on their way now. Letting out a sigh, he leaned against the wall of the Apothecary's building. "It's just...not something I wanted to talk about now that I have five minutes' peace."
Stunned, Oliver spent a long minute staring at him, wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. "I..I.."
"Yeah," Percy waived him off. "Bloody hell, Oliver...what's gotten into you? I know you and Katie...never mind, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything..."
Leaning against the wall himself, almost sliding down it, Oliver was still trying to catch his breath. Had he really just done that, snapped like that with no real, good reason? Pull yourself together, Wood! What's wrong with you? "I'm sorry about Fred," he blurted out, not even knowing why. "I'm so sorry..."
"Thank you," Percy answered.
"Katie," Oliver started. He couldn't talk fast, or he wouldn't be able to hold in the tears. "Katie was Muggleborn...her...her parents know, right? Do you know if they know? They're not..."
The obvious answer to this would've been for Percy to tell Oliver to go ask them himself, if he was that worried. Percy Weasley wasn't that cruel, though. Nor was he ignorant of what Oliver must've felt like. Regardless, the look on his tired face was strained, as if he had an aversion to staying here any longer just like Oliver back in the pub. "I'll check into it and make sure... why? Why the mark, after everything that's happened, why would you..."
"Because," Oliver wondered if he even knew the answer to that himself, "Because everyone deserves dignity, because I'd just murdered a man and I...wasn't thinking clearly..."
"It was war, Oliver," Percy said, quite matter-of-factly. "There's no murder in war, just..just death."
How Percy could say that after losing a brother, Oliver wasn't sure. He wasn't even very convincing. "No, I didn't have to, I could've stunned him, y'got time to aim the killing curse, y'got time to just stun the guy..."
The words 'killing curse' had slipped before Oliver realized what he was saying. That had been his secret, one he never intended to tell anyone, even if it should've been perfectly obvious. Would Percy be appalled? Would he go even further, hold him to the letter of the law and have him thrown into Azkaban for using an Unforgivable Curse, despite what he'd just said about war?
Much to his surprise, Percy didn't seem fazed. "Huh...I bet the incantation sounds ridiculous with your accent." Blinking his eyes twice, Oliver had to let it sink in that Percy had just cracked a joke, and an incredibly tasteless one, at that. Maybe he was channeling Fred. "I really should be going, though, I probably shouldn't have stayed out this long as it is, it's just going to keep piling up...don't worry so much about it, Oliver. It's not like you were the only one that night who killed."
Percy walked away just like that, leaving Oliver silent, remembering how he watched with everyone else as Voldemort tried to kill Harry and killed himself instead.
Feeling like he was somehow missing the point of what Percy was saying, he feebly raised a hand as if to wave when the word 'goodbye' just wouldn't leave his mouth.
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