Chapter 36
Oliver wasn’t sure which was worse, the radio silence from Marcus, or the radio silence from Charlie. Messages in the journal to Marcus disappeared, and the pages never yielded a new response. Letters sent to Charlie went unanswered, even though poor Errol flew back and forth in the middle of the night, the royal owl he was.
“No, that's fine, leave me here alone, with my thoughts. What could go wrong there?” Oliver muttered to himself, as he paced in his room on yet another night, the moonlight illuminating his room.
Sighing, Oliver plopped himself into his desk chair and thumbed through his textbooks, not for the first time since he got them. Ancient Runes looked like it would be…a lot, but Oliver was fascinated by it nonetheless. He set that textbook down, and picked up Charlie’s very worn copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. The creatures in it were fantastic indeed, ranging from small things like bowtruckles, to larger kneazles and unicorns. Oliver could see why any witch or wizard would want to take the class if these amazing things were out in the wizarding world. He felt torn taking the class now, especially knowing how his father had seemingly been obsessed with these creatures, enough to get himself killed it would seem, and how much Charlie loved the class.
Oliver groaned, laying his forehead down on the desk, the textbook cluttering onto the floor. He sat back up a moment later however, when he heard the growling from the windowsill, where The Monster Book of Monsters rested…or rather sat restrained with a belt and a larger book sitting on top of it. It’s grumbling also hadn’t helped with Oliver’s restless night as he often woke up startled as it growled or snored in its seat by the window.
“Why would anyone create a book that wants to eat things?” He asked the empty room, rubbing his eyes for the millionth time in the past hour.
Oliver kept replaying the kiss in his mind, it had certainly been awkward, even if Charlie hadn’t witnessed it, but it also left Oliver wanting more. Maybe he did like Marcus that way? Or did he just want to kiss him again? It was very frustrating, being alone on what felt like an island prison instead of his home. All he did was read and train and attempt to contact his friends. Fred and George had at least responded to his letter and gifts for their birthday, Oliver had hoped the candy was enough for them, and judging by their enthusiastic response they had been happily surprised.
His mind turned back to Marcus, as it often did in the past week, and Oliver pulled the journal towards him, not expecting to see any messages in it. “Wait a minute…” Oliver said, blinking rapidly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. There was actually a message this time.
Oliver,
I apologize for the delay in my response. My father has been having several meetings and has been forcing me to sit in on them, leaving little time for flying practice, or much of anything else. His associates, for lack of a better term, are all worked up over The Boy Who Lived starting school this year. Basically, it’s some sort of pity party that their precious You Know Who was defeated by a baby. He’s been in a foul mood most of the summer, but this news only made it worse. He’s been even more adamant that I am to take over for him in the future, and I should stop my ridiculous hobbies. Of course, I refused, but I'm not sure how much longer I can. I hope I didn’t make things difficult for you with Charlie, but I want you to know that I don’t regret it. The kiss, that is. I hope it doesn’t change things with us in a negative way, if anything I hope you will see it as me showing just how much I care for you. Write soon, but if you don’t I understand and hope to see you when the term starts.
Yours,
Marcus
Oliver leaned back in his chair, bothered and bewildered by Marcus’ message. Why would his father be so worried about Harry Potter? You Know Who was gone, it’s not like Harry was a threat to anyone…he was just a kid! Another part of Oliver wondered what Marcus’ future would look like if his father kept insisting on Marcus being a certain way? Likely nothing good, and what would that mean for Marcus an Oliver if they were to…become something more than friends? Oliver was pleased to hear that Marcus didn’t regret the kiss, and hoped there would be more in the future. Oliver sighed, wondering himself if things with Charlie were going to remain this way.
“Deal with one thing at a time, Oliver” he told himself, yawning as he picked up his quill.
Marcus,
I’m sorry your father is trying to stop you from doing all the things you want to do. I’ve missed your messages, and I’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been thinking about what we did a lot, and I can’t lie and say I didn't like it. I really did, even if it took me by surprise. Although, I suppose you’ve made it quite clear how you feel about me so I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, but still, I’d like to do it again. Sorry if that’s too forward. Don’t worry about Charlie, I’m sure he won’t say anything, I don’t think he cares to be honest. I’ll try to talk to him to be sure. See you soon at school, looking forward to it.
Yours,
Oliver
Oliver closed the journal, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if they were from nerves, anticipation, or both. He stood up, stretched, and glanced out the window. It looked so peaceful out there, and just over the hill, he knew that the Weasley’s were likely sleeping peacefully.
There was only one Oliver was concerned with though.
Oliver listened, and was relieved to hear that the house remained quiet. He crept down the stairs, making sure to skip the one that creaked whenever someone stepped on it, and headed outside to the broom shed.
“You’d better not ignore me Weasley,” Oliver muttered, mounting his broom, and silently speeding out into the night, heading for the Burrow.
He needed to have a word with Charlie, and if this was the only way how, then so be it.