Chapter 38
Oliver walked blindly through the dark, dragging his trunk behind him in the tall grass, and his broom slung over his shoulder. He was heading back to the Weasley’s because he had nowhere else to go and they were close by. Besides, it wouldn’t be for long, term started soon and Oliver would be back at Hogwarts.
Back home.
The only positive to it being night time was that hopefully no one would notice his tears when he inevitably knocked on the Weasley’s front door this time. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Oliver muttered to himself, wiping his face again.
He wasn’t sure what he was so upset about. Hadn’t he always wanted to be free of his mother? Maybe he was humiliated that he had been thrown out? Oliver couldn’t make sense of why he had tears streaming down his cheeks. Hell, he couldn’t make sense of anything at the moment. What if the Weasley’s said no?
After what felt like walking across the entirety of Hogwarts castle, Oliver finally spotted the Burrow over the hill, just as the first pink lights of dawn were starting to appear in the sky. He wiped his face one last time, and knocked on the worn wooden front door.
He didn’t have to wait very long, before Molly Weasley opened the door, peering at him curiously, her eyes widening when she saw his trunk and broom. “Oliver! What on earth are you…come in! Come in, please!”
Oliver put on what he hoped was a grateful smile, and let himself be ushered inside to the quiet house. “Thank you Mrs Weasley I just…” His voice broke once he entered the cramped kitchen area, where it looked like Mrs Weasley was making enough breakfast food for an army.
“Oh my dear it’s alright,” She told him softly, and Oliver let himself be wrapped in a tight hug.
This wasn’t helping his emotional state, considering all he could think about was if he could remember the last time his own mother had ever hugged him so fiercely.
“Could I….could I stay here until term starts? My mother, she…I don’t think I’ll be welcome back home for quite some time.” Oliver muttered meekly.
“You can stay as long as you like,” Mrs Weasley told him fiercely, “I’ll sort out a room for you once everyone else is up, but for now go into the living room and take a nap on the couch. I hope you’re hungry because I’m making quite the breakfast,” She smiled kindly at him, and Oliver wandered into the living room, letting his trunk and broom fall to the floor, before he fell onto the well used couch.
He rolled over, and had almost closed his eyes to rest, before they landed on a very odd sight. There was a black cat, in what could only be a pink t-shirt belonging to Ginny, sitting curled up in the chair across from him. Its green eyes acknowledged Oliver with disinterest, before it curled back up and fell asleep.
“Looks like you’ve got the right idea, cat,” Oliver said sleepily, before drifting off himself.
Now…
Oliver’s hands were shaking again, and it did not go unnoticed by his therapist.
“Oliver, if you need to stop again, we can,” His therapist said with a kind smile.
Oliver shook his head, “No it’s fine, I’m not sure why I’m getting like this. I haven’t had an episode like this in so long. We haven’t even gotten to when my…my-”
“Your addiction may have started later in life, but a lot happened to you that likely contributed to it. This is why we’re talking about everything, to figure out things that can be upsetting for you, and ways to deal with them in a healthy way.”
Oliver nodded, feeling shameful that he couldn’t even say the word addiction. It was, after all, a part of who he was. He was an addict.
“Can you take some deep breaths for me?” His therapist asked gently.
Oliver nodded, trying not to lose himself in those thoughts, and began the breathing exercises with his therapist…
Then…
Oliver blinked slowly, trying to remember where he was, and what had prompted him to wake up. It wasn’t the smell of food or talking and scraping from the kitchen, it was the feeling of being watched that had woken him.
He was expecting to see the cat’s green eyes staring back at him from the chair, but it was a different pair of green eyes that met his eyes when he sat up. “Hello…?” Oliver managed to croak out, before Ginny Weasley turned about as red as her hair and fled silently from the living room.
Just like that, Oliver remembered where he was and he sat up quickly, and looked around. He was at the Weasley’s and…where were his trunk and broom? He’d left them right here before he’d fallen asleep. He wandered slowly into the kitchen, trying not to stare in shock at the sheer amount of people sitting elbow to elbow at a very long table, laden with pancakes, toast, eggs, and bacon.
“He lives!” Fred exclaimed, the first to notice Oliver.
“Morning!” George added, grinning at him with his mouth full of toast.
“Oliver dear! I hope we didn’t wake you, would you like something to eat? I’ve put your things up in Charlie’s room. I would’ve had you share with the twins, but well, they already are sharing and their room is quite cramped and- oh!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed.
Oliver had wandered around the table and hugged her tightly, trying to emulate the same hug she had given him only a couple hours ago when he had shown up on her doorstep. “Thank you, that sounds great Mrs Weasley,” Oliver said gruffly, before taking a step back.
Mrs Weasley beamed at him, “Take a seat wherever you can dear and help yourself.”
Oliver nodded and found himself sitting across from Charlie. “Morning roomie,” He said with a small grin on his face.
Oliver rolled his eyes, but he found himself smiling back just the same. Oliver took a bite of food and tried to ignore the mess of feelings he was having, hoping to shove them down with breakfast foods instead.
Summer could only get better from here, he supposed.