Chapter 31
“Again!” His mother barked sharply from her broom.
Oliver tried not to glare at her, as she levitated three Quaffles in the air, instead he nodded, trying to ignore the hot sun and humid breeze. It was only June, and the summer was already turning out to be brutal.
Oliver flew towards the first Quaffle, before shooting over to the farthest hoop and stopping the second one, and finally caught the third one. They had been at it all morning, and soon his mother would have to go to work, giving Oliver a break and time to work on his summer work…and his correspondence.
“Good, you finally got it Oliver. I can almost see why you were named Captain.” His mother sort of complimented him. “I think we’re done for today, I’ll be home late tonight.”
Oliver nodded, not daring to speak. Things hadn’t been going the way he had hoped since he’d been home. His mother had been her usual quiet cold self, mostly barking orders at him during training. His hope was that if he did well enough that he could find an opportunity to ask about his father.
Naturally, that hadn’t arrived yet.
Oliver trekked up the stairs to the bathroom, ignoring the sound of the floo flames in the fireplace, signaling his mother’s departure. “Finally,” He grumbled to himself.
After his shower, Oliver plopped himself onto his old desk chair, and grabbed a random textbook from his pile of summer work off of the floor.
He sighed when he realized he grabbed the potions book first, “Guess it’s good to get the worst one out of the way first.”
However, halfway through working on his essay his mind wandered, and he pulled out the latest letter from a certain Slytherin boy.
Oliver,
I hope this finds you and not your mother. I guess jailer would be more prudent. That was a joke, if you couldn’t tell. If you can’t tell, I’m pretty bored here at the estate. You can only explore the same dull empty rooms so many times in the house you grew up in. My father has locked my broom away as well, until I’ve completed all my coursework. Naturally, I’m writing to you instead.
I miss you, Oliver. I never thought I would miss Hogwarts too, but I suppose that is where I get to see you everyday.
Write soon,
Marcus
Oliver felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. Oliver wasn’t sure how Marcus could manage a summer without flying. Hopefully Marcus would rush through the summer coursework fast.
Marcus,
I’m doing about as good as I can be. Things have been relatively normal here. I’m sorry to hear about the broom, I hope your father has been treating you well otherwise. But, if you get through the summer work fast you can get your broom back, right? Speaking of, your head of house really knows how to assign the damn near impossible. Maybe start with Potions like me.
I miss you too. I wish you were one of my neighbors, it’d be easy to sneak off and hang out like we usually do.
Hope to hear from you again soon,
Oliver
Oliver walked over the window, and whistled. It took a few minutes, but the large gray owl that had delivered Marcus’ letter had thankfully stuck around, nesting in the small copse of trees between Oliver and the Weasley’s houses. “Here you go,” Oliver said quietly to the owl, and it eagerly grabbed the letter and flew off.
Oliver watched until the owl was just a speck on the horizon, and returned to his work. He tried not to feel too guilty about writing to Marcus and not writing to Fred, George, or Charlie. He tried to tell himself that it was because they were so close, and it’d be easier to just sneak off and see them if the opportunity presented itself.
Oliver sighed, and grimly returned to his potions essay. “Hopefully in a couple of years I can be done with this damn class,” He muttered to himself.
Oliver worked in silence, which was easy since he had the entire house to himself. It should’ve been lonely, but weirdly it was fine.
Naturally, a Weasley had to ruin it.
“Hey Oliver!” Fred yelled from the window.
Oliver jumped, nearly spilling his inkwell, “Jesus Christ! What are you two doing?!”
“Three, actually, thanks for noticing,” Charlie grumbled, but when Oliver actually looked out the window, Charlie was smiling.
Oliver blinked in surprise at the scene before him. The three Weasley’s floated on their brooms just outside his window, all three grinning happily at him in the summer sunshine. “You could’ve been seen by my mother! Do you have any idea what she would do to you guys?!”
George shrugged, “The way I see it, she hurts us, Mum will have an excuse to finally duel her.”
Oliver’s jaw dropped and he stared at George in shock. “I don’t even know how to respond to that, what are you guys doing here?”
“We thought you’d might like to come over, play a little Quidditch or just you know, get away,” Charlie said looking at him sheepishly.
Oliver blinked, wondering why Charlie seemed so nervous. He chalked it up to not really speaking with him for the last few months, aside from the train a couple weeks ago. “I don’t think that’s a good idea..” Oliver said lamely, his eyes darting to his pile of summer work. “I’m not sure when my mom will come back and I’d rather not piss her off.”
Fred grimaced, “Fair enough, how about we just play over here?”
Oliver sighed, “I would love to, but I just got done with my mom and I have all this work and so do you,” He said, staring at Fred and George in exasperation.
Turning his gaze onto Charlie he said “You have more work than the three of us too. Wasn’t that why you stopped doing things like Quidditch? To focus on school?”
Oliver immediately felt bad, he hadn’t meant to say it that way. But, the damage was done.
Charlie’s shoulders sagged, Fred and George’s eyes darted between them like they were scanning for an invisible snitch. “Good point Ollie, come on guys, let’s go home.”
Oliver blinked, cursing himself silently, “I didn’t mean-”
The words were lost to the other three boys, as they sped away back to their own home. Oliver let out a frustrated sigh, and returned grimly to his desk, wishing he was back at Hogwarts, where things could maybe be more simple.