A/N: It's been a while since I've done a fanfic. I've been spending so much
time over at ficpress, so forgive the HORRIBLE writing that is about to
show its UGLY face!! Haha, jk. Please.endure and review! Toodles!!
~DreamerRoni~
Screams of a Silent Soul
By: DreamerRoni
Chapter One
"It's been so long since she's called. Maybe she's with some bloke in England. No.she wouldn't do that to me. I can't doubt her, she says she loves me.. Aye, maybe mom was right-" Oliver thought to himself. It was a rainy day in Scotland and a horrible start to the summer after his completed education at Hogwarts. Oliver took the opportunity to do some "old-fashioned condition training, Old Scott style" as his father called it. Oliver, however, preferred the term "cruel and unusual punishment". Either way it consisted of long runs through various parks, weight lifting and lots of laps. He hadn't once touched his broom all summer and he was itching to practice some Quidditch moves; being the Quidditch coach of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Madam Hooch had placed a new rule over the whole school's Quidditch teams: each team is required to have an official coach to replace the traditional captain. The team, however, was allowed to vote a former Quidditch player from Hogwarts of their choice. The entire Gryffindor team voted Wood unanimously. He was now Hogwarts staff doing what he loved best. Plus he got to spend time with his old friends Harry (Seeker, former captain), Ron (Beater, former co-captain) and Hermione (believe it or not she's a remarkable Keeper). All things considered, Oliver had things going pretty well for him. Except one thing. And her name was Tori Angiolini.**A/N: Marilyn Dumbledore has used this character name and basic plot with OW/OC so I give props to her**
Tori was the type of girl that you would expect to see on MTV2; a punk rock chick in all aspects. She was never seen without heavy eyeliner and lots of black spiky jewelry.if you could call it that. But as the case usually goes, you can't judge a book, or a chick, by the cover. Tori was loved by all that knew her, yet shunned by all that didn't. Oliver was in the group who knew, and loved, Tori. But his parents were quite the opposite.
"She's no good, and an American!" his mother cried, putting a dramatic hand to her forehead. Oliver rolled his eyes and looked to his father for support.
"Sorry son, you know how I am about foreigners." He said sadly and lit his pipe. The case was closed, and Oliver seemed to be the loosing defendant.
His mother, the prosecutor, held Oliver's face in her hands affectionately. "Honey, please try to understand. We're just trying to do what we think is best for you.and your future." She said, smiling and fully expecting his agreement.
Oliver stood up and glared at his parents. "You don't understand! I'm not asking for your permission to see her. I'm asking you to treat her with respect when I bring her to you. And for God's sake mother, don't look at her like she's something foul under your nose.." He said to them, but realized quickly that it was a lost cause. The jury had already come back with the verdict.
All of these thoughts rolled through his mind as he sat in his apartment; rain pounded on the roof like rocks being thrown down at the city and the black clouds moving in looked ominous and threatening. The doorbell pulled him out of his dark thoughts and alerted him to the door.
"Who is it?" he asked, unlatching the locks. No ever visited him without notice, all his friends were English and on holiday in England.
When Oliver opened the door he saw a woman in a dripping wet black trench coat. She had on a hat, and her head was pointed downward making it impossible for Oliver to decipher who his company was.
She did lift her head, though, and Oliver's eyes widened at the sight.
"Tori?" he said, not able to believe it was his Tori whose face was covered in tears, obviously tears, and a bluish black circle around her left eye. "What.who.?" He began to say, but her sobs stopped him.
"It was my dad, and I took his whole savings to get here. Can I stay with you for a while?" she managed to say after suppressing her racked sobs. Her deep, beautiful brown eyes, unmasked by her normal black eyeliner, bore into Oliver's with such a need, a sorrow that all he could do was take her arm and lead her inside.
She removed her trench coat and wiped her tears on the back of her Metallica shirt. Oliver watched her take off her red Chuck Taylor's and place them neatly against the entryway wall. And for once in all the time he had known her, he realized that it was love he felt.. Not curiosity at a foreigner and not a short fling. The way she looked in his eyes made his very bones rattle and his heart skip a beat.
Tori, having placed her small, rather worn suitcase near her shoes, turned back to Oliver with the same deep expression over her eyes, now absent of the pained tears.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you before, I should've warned you I was coming. I hope I'm not a trouble-" she said, but Oliver held up his hand, smiling.
"Trouble? Honestly, I was half planning to blow the rest of my money to come see you. You're always welcome here." She smiled warmly and stepped closer to him. He could see the bruise clearer on her eye and winced at the force that would place it there. "Let me get you some ice for that bruise, and you can tell me how The Bastard put it there." Oliver laughed because the only name that Tori had ever given him or anyone else for her father was "The Bastard" and now it was quite apparent as to why.
"That'd be very nice, but I think I'll need quite a few bags." She said, half grinning, half not, as she rolled up both of her sleeves, biting her bottom lip in pain, and revealed to Oliver the series of bruises and scars along her arms.
And that is when Oliver came to hate The Bastard.
Screams of a Silent Soul
By: DreamerRoni
Chapter One
"It's been so long since she's called. Maybe she's with some bloke in England. No.she wouldn't do that to me. I can't doubt her, she says she loves me.. Aye, maybe mom was right-" Oliver thought to himself. It was a rainy day in Scotland and a horrible start to the summer after his completed education at Hogwarts. Oliver took the opportunity to do some "old-fashioned condition training, Old Scott style" as his father called it. Oliver, however, preferred the term "cruel and unusual punishment". Either way it consisted of long runs through various parks, weight lifting and lots of laps. He hadn't once touched his broom all summer and he was itching to practice some Quidditch moves; being the Quidditch coach of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Madam Hooch had placed a new rule over the whole school's Quidditch teams: each team is required to have an official coach to replace the traditional captain. The team, however, was allowed to vote a former Quidditch player from Hogwarts of their choice. The entire Gryffindor team voted Wood unanimously. He was now Hogwarts staff doing what he loved best. Plus he got to spend time with his old friends Harry (Seeker, former captain), Ron (Beater, former co-captain) and Hermione (believe it or not she's a remarkable Keeper). All things considered, Oliver had things going pretty well for him. Except one thing. And her name was Tori Angiolini.**A/N: Marilyn Dumbledore has used this character name and basic plot with OW/OC so I give props to her**
Tori was the type of girl that you would expect to see on MTV2; a punk rock chick in all aspects. She was never seen without heavy eyeliner and lots of black spiky jewelry.if you could call it that. But as the case usually goes, you can't judge a book, or a chick, by the cover. Tori was loved by all that knew her, yet shunned by all that didn't. Oliver was in the group who knew, and loved, Tori. But his parents were quite the opposite.
"She's no good, and an American!" his mother cried, putting a dramatic hand to her forehead. Oliver rolled his eyes and looked to his father for support.
"Sorry son, you know how I am about foreigners." He said sadly and lit his pipe. The case was closed, and Oliver seemed to be the loosing defendant.
His mother, the prosecutor, held Oliver's face in her hands affectionately. "Honey, please try to understand. We're just trying to do what we think is best for you.and your future." She said, smiling and fully expecting his agreement.
Oliver stood up and glared at his parents. "You don't understand! I'm not asking for your permission to see her. I'm asking you to treat her with respect when I bring her to you. And for God's sake mother, don't look at her like she's something foul under your nose.." He said to them, but realized quickly that it was a lost cause. The jury had already come back with the verdict.
All of these thoughts rolled through his mind as he sat in his apartment; rain pounded on the roof like rocks being thrown down at the city and the black clouds moving in looked ominous and threatening. The doorbell pulled him out of his dark thoughts and alerted him to the door.
"Who is it?" he asked, unlatching the locks. No ever visited him without notice, all his friends were English and on holiday in England.
When Oliver opened the door he saw a woman in a dripping wet black trench coat. She had on a hat, and her head was pointed downward making it impossible for Oliver to decipher who his company was.
She did lift her head, though, and Oliver's eyes widened at the sight.
"Tori?" he said, not able to believe it was his Tori whose face was covered in tears, obviously tears, and a bluish black circle around her left eye. "What.who.?" He began to say, but her sobs stopped him.
"It was my dad, and I took his whole savings to get here. Can I stay with you for a while?" she managed to say after suppressing her racked sobs. Her deep, beautiful brown eyes, unmasked by her normal black eyeliner, bore into Oliver's with such a need, a sorrow that all he could do was take her arm and lead her inside.
She removed her trench coat and wiped her tears on the back of her Metallica shirt. Oliver watched her take off her red Chuck Taylor's and place them neatly against the entryway wall. And for once in all the time he had known her, he realized that it was love he felt.. Not curiosity at a foreigner and not a short fling. The way she looked in his eyes made his very bones rattle and his heart skip a beat.
Tori, having placed her small, rather worn suitcase near her shoes, turned back to Oliver with the same deep expression over her eyes, now absent of the pained tears.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you before, I should've warned you I was coming. I hope I'm not a trouble-" she said, but Oliver held up his hand, smiling.
"Trouble? Honestly, I was half planning to blow the rest of my money to come see you. You're always welcome here." She smiled warmly and stepped closer to him. He could see the bruise clearer on her eye and winced at the force that would place it there. "Let me get you some ice for that bruise, and you can tell me how The Bastard put it there." Oliver laughed because the only name that Tori had ever given him or anyone else for her father was "The Bastard" and now it was quite apparent as to why.
"That'd be very nice, but I think I'll need quite a few bags." She said, half grinning, half not, as she rolled up both of her sleeves, biting her bottom lip in pain, and revealed to Oliver the series of bruises and scars along her arms.
And that is when Oliver came to hate The Bastard.