Chapter 33
A week of silence passed between Oliver and his mother. The house was always quiet, but since finding out about his father’s death and the uncaring way his mother had regarded it, Oliver found that the house was even quieter without the two of them, the sole inhabitants not speaking to each other.
Oliver resorted to nodding or grunting during training, and if his mother was frustrated she never said anything about it. He wondered if this was what she had always wanted, a silent, easily manipulated, Quidditch star child. One who didn’t focus on anything else but the next match, what he could do better, what to improve on. Never mind any other career than professional Quidditch. What else could he possibly need?
“Get some rest, I’ll be giving you tomorrow off and you’d best get that schoolwork finished. We’ll be making a trip to Diagon Alley before you know it,” His mother said stiffly, as they trudged up the stairs to their respective rooms.
It was one of the few things she had said to him all week. Oliver yawned, blinking blearily as he entered his room, the warm night breeze drifting lazily through his open bedroom window. His mother had woken him up in the middle of the night for some training in the pitch blackness of the summer night. Oliver had somehow managed to stop most of the Quaffles that came his way. He was practically dreaming about Quidditch every night, his body always tense, expecting a Quaffle or a Bludger to come flying towards his head when he was least expecting it.
Oliver threw himself onto the bed, rolling his eyes at his mother’s parting words. Since he hadn’t heard back yet from either Marcus or Charlie, and ignoring his mother, Oliver had finished all of his summer coursework in record time. He was trying not to think about his father, or the fact that his friends hadn’t responded yet, or the fact that in a few short hours it would be his birthday.
Oliver sat up and looked at the clock on his wall. It would actually be a few short minutes. Just a few minutes and he would officially be a teenager. Sighing, Oliver got up and stretched before wandering over to the open window. The sky was pretty dark aside from the stars dotting the sky like little twinkling lights. He almost thought they could be candles, little candles in the sky wishing him a happy birthday.
“Don’t be such an idiot,” He muttered to himself, starting to turn away from the window, but something caught his eye. Two something’s in fact, two small shapes flying towards his window.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Oliver whispered, trying to listen for his mother wandering the house. But, the house was still and quiet.
Both owls swooped into his room gracefully, and deadly silent. Each one had a letter and a small package tied to its leg. Oliver stared at the pair of owls in surprise, and they stared back coolly, waiting patiently for him to regain his composure.
Oliver took the first letter and package from Errol, the Weasley’s withered family owl, and watched as he began the short journey over the hill back to his home. Although, it did seem like an awful lot of effort on his part. Oliver winced, as he saw Errol land quite clumsily in the copse of trees between their houses, and hoped the owl would stay close by. Oliver would need him to send a reply.
Next, he took the parcel and note from the other owl, who then flew off with a rather haughty look to join Errol in the trees. Oliver snorted, marveling at the difference in personalities between the pair of owls.
He held both deliveries in his hands, wondering which one he should open first. Oliver groaned, wondering why it was such a difficult decision. Of course, he knew why. He was beginning to care about both boys almost the exact same amount. It was…frustrating to say the least.
Almost the same amount.
With a minor twinge of guilt, Oliver placed Marcus’ letter on his desk, and opened Charlie’s letter first, ignoring the parcel that came with it.
Ollie,
First and foremost, I must apologize for the delay in my response. It was nearly impossible to get a hold of Errol to send this. That’s the downside of sharing him I suppose. I am terribly sorry to hear about your father, how are you holding up?
Ignore that, that was a ridiculous thing to ask. I’m here to talk if you want, either through letters or I can sneak over if you need me too. I’m so so sorry Ollie, I’m sure he would’ve been a great dad if he’d had the chance.
On a happier note (I’m playing catch up so I’m sorry if that is rudely abrupt) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Please be cautious when opening your gift, I had mum work some magic on it to make it travel sized. I think you’ll know what’s from me and what’s from the twins.
P.S. I hope your mother doesn’t intercept these like last year, but we’ve had good luck so far.
Yours,
Charlie
Oliver was a mess of emotions. He was grinning, and yet also had tears in his eyes. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the letter yet, so he tossed it aside and cautiously eyed the small parcel. He knew Charlie wouldn’t send him anything crazy…the twins however, who knows what they could’ve packed him. Oliver opened the small parcel and peered nervously inside.
“He wasn’t kidding about travel size was he?” Oliver mused, as he squinted at the tiny items the parcel held. Shrugging, Oliver reached inside and pulled one of the items out, which instantly grew to the normal size and shape of a large box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. There was a note attached.
Happy Birthday Oliver! I can’t wait to see you on the Hogwarts Express! Hope you enjoy!- George
Oliver smiled, and set the candy aside, and pulled the next item out eagerly. He groaned quietly when he saw what it was. Once it took its normal form, he saw that it was a package of dungbombs from Fred.
Just in case you want to use these on your mum, just a thought. Happy Birthday, mate!- Fred
Oliver laughed softly, knowing damn well he wouldn’t use it on his mother. But the thought was nice.
Finally, He reached into the box and pulled out a book. He blinked in surprise as he read the title. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He opened the book, and a small note fluttered out of it.
Ollie, I knew you’d be taking Care of Magical Creatures this year, so I thought you might like my old copy. I borrowed Bill’s since he’s done with it. You’ll find some extra notes and curiosities I’ve written in the pages, and I hope they help you, - Charlie
Oliver stared down at the book in shock. He knew how much Charlie enjoyed that class and was touched that he would give him something so personal. He set the book down along with his gifts, and realized with a jolt that he didn’t know when Charlie’s birthday was. Charlie had never mentioned it, and Oliver had stupidly never asked. He also remembered that twins’ birthday would be coming up soon and made a mental note to get something for them at Diagon Alley, if he could slip away from his mother.
Oliver turned to the next letter and parcel curiously. He couldn’t recall telling Marcus when his birthday was precisely, only that it would be in the summer. Had he guessed it successfully?
Oliver tore open the letter and read through it quickly.
Oliver,
I hope this letter finds you in better spirits. I can’t imagine discovering that a parent is dead. I know these words won’t help ease your pain much, but I hope that they offer some comfort. I’m sure your father would’ve loved you very much, and I think that’s where you got all your good qualities from what you’ve told me about your mother. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond, as my father was not thrilled with me…misplacing something of his. But, I think you and I can find a better use for it than he ever would. I know your birthday is sometime this summer so Happy Late or Early Birthday! The gift I’m giving you may have upset my father, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, if you’ll let me, I’d like to give you an even better gift if I see you in Diagon Alley.
Write soon,
Marcus
Oliver was confused to say the least, but the kind words from Marcus meant a lot. He wondered what he meant by ‘if you’ll let me.’ Oliver shrugged, and opened the parcel, which revealed a small golden colored journal. There was a note attached.
‘I have its twin. If you write in here I’ll get the message and be able to send one back. It’ll be our little secret. Happy Birthday- Marcus.
Oliver stared at the journal in awe. This was…amazing magic. Had Marcus’ father really had it all this time?
Oliver resolved to write in it the next morning, demanding answers. Yawning, Oliver began hiding his new gifts and then crawled into bed, letting sleep take him finally.