The Girl Oliver Saved
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs solely to J. K. Rowling, David Yates, and Scholastic Publishing Company. I don't make money from any of this; I just enjoy playing with the characters some.
Warning: Rated T; mentions and descriptions of child neglect and abuse; implied violence; cursing; you have been warned.
Summary: Famous Professional Quidditch player for Puddlemere United, Oliver Wood seems to have a great life; he's involved almost full-time with his passion, he has a fair amount of money, he's sort of famous, and he lives by himself in a shockingly beautiful, two bedroom, roomy flat near Diagon Alley. However, he is about to receive an outright shock as he finds a seven-year-old girl with torn clothing and obvious signs of abuse and neglect crying in an alleyway. Who is she? Where are her parents? Who abused her? Can he save her? Most importantly, can he teach her to trust again?
Chapter 1: His Discovery
It was seven in the evening and Oliver Wood is well on his way to a pub in Diagon Alley for a nice stiff drink after a particularly grueling day of Quidditch practice. Although Bludgers didn't attack him this time around, he still hurts from the last three days of practice where Bludgers pelted him. In fact, Oliver fells as though he isn't so much a Keeper, but a Bludger magnet. All throughout his Quidditch career, even at Hogwarts in his second year when he first started playing Quidditch, Bludgers always ended up pelting him; whether it be his head or his stomach or even his ribs, they would pelt him. He is quite sick of it, really, but other than that, he loves Quidditch and loves being an actual player on Puddlemere United, not just a reserve once the Second Wizarding War finally ended two years ago.
In fact, the Quidditch season is about three weeks away and, in preparation for their first match against the Holyhead Harpies, their captain is pushing his team to the limits. Oliver is finally starting to learn how his old Hogwarts Quidditch team felt when he ran them rugged in preparation for a match. Of course, Oliver loves his job regardless and having someone just as obsessed as him with Quidditch is wonderful; however, there are only so many Bludgers, and hard thrown Quaffles, one body could take before it shut down.
As he walks by a dark alleyway, a girl's cry breaks him out of his obsessive thoughts about Quidditch. Curious, he turns into the alleyway and mutters "Lumos" as he takes his wand out. More quiet sobs reach his ears as he starts walking into the alleyway against his better judgment. The crying gets louder as he walks further into the eerie alleyway and he grips his wand tighter as he starts to break out into a cold sweat. When he gets to the middle of alleyway he sees what looks like a pile of dirty rags stacked tightly against the brick wall and the dumpster. He lowers his wand to the pile of rags and realizes, with shock, that it is actually a very young girl crying quietly. He breathes a sigh of relief as he squats down in front of small girl, taking a good look at her.
She couldn't be any older than four years old, going from her small frame. Dirt cakes her matted blonde hair, several bruises cover her exposed arms, neck, and face, and several small cuts litter face; some are still bleeding and some have already scabbed. The dirty rags she currently wears most likely resembled clean clothes at some point and rips litter them in some places while patches litter them in other places. Dirt and deep bleeding gashes litter her bare feet. Hurt, pain, betrayal, and fear now haunt her dull grey eyes that were probably a brilliant blue color at one point. Clearly, someone abused and neglected this poor girl. Where are her parents? Who is she? Who hurt her?
In a very quiet and gentle voice, Oliver asks, "Where are your parents?" The girl only scrambles away from in fear and curls in tighter on herself as though Oliver plans to hurt her. It breaks his heart to see her act like this. "I'm not going to hurt you, you know," he says in the same gentle voice and curses silently to himself as some of his Scottish accent leaks out. However, his statement that he won't hurt her doesn't seem to comfort the girl at all. Oliver sighs and rubs the back of his neck at a lost as to how he should handle this situation. Finally, he decides that maybe if he takes this girl to his house, feeds her, cleans her, and heals her then she will understand that he only wants to help her.
"Come now, lass," he says and mentally berates himself as actually slipped into his native tongue, "I promise I won't hurt you. I only want to help you." When the girl doesn't respond and only regards him with distrust, he asks kindly, "What is your name?" The girl does not answer his question. Seeing how thin she is, he tries a different tactic. "Why don't we get you cleaned up and something hot to eat, yeah?" At the mention of food, the girl quickly jerks her head up and Oliver gets a better look at the tearstains on her bruised cheeks. The sight burns him with anger at the bloody coward who would dare harm an innocent and defenseless little girl.
He offers his hand out to the girl who continues to regard him wearily. "It's okay, I won't harm you, I swear on my grave," the Scot says in his light Scottish accent. The girl takes several minutes to look Oliver up and down before apparently looking for any signs he is lying. Finally, she timidly accepts his offered hand. Oliver can't help the small smile that graces his features. "Now," he starts gently, "hold tightly an' don't let go; we're going to Apparate to my flat, alright? Just a fair warning; if you haven't Apparated before, this will feel very strange," he finishes quietly and smiles some more as the girl squeezes his hand even tighter; then, he Apparates to his flat.
Once there, the girl stumbles backwards slightly and Oliver rights her before she falls. "It's not much really, but it is home," he states fondly as though she is not a stranger but merely a younger sister or cousin he has known for a very long time. She doesn't give him any sign she heard him, but Oliver smiles anyway. He knows and understands that it may be several months before the girl every actually opens up to him, so his one sided conversation doesn't really bother him. After all, Merlin only knows what happened to her before he found her.
He sits the girl down on his plushy couch in the living room and tells her to wait right there for him to come back. He walks into the kitchen and begins to look through his pantry, cabinets, and then fridge to see what all he has for her to eat that doesn't require a vast amount of cooking or skill to make. The only thing he could find is a still full and fresh half gallon of milk, some peanut butter, white bread, and grape jelly; he will have to go out shopping for more food some time.
He walks back into the living room, squats in front of the girl, and asks, "You're not allergic to peanuts, are ya lass?" The girl shakes her head silently and Oliver smiles at her small response, "Good. Let's get your face and hands washed and then you can eat, yeah?" The girl wordlessly follows him down a narrow hallway just off his living room and into a sparsely but well decorated bathroom. Perhaps she is starting to trust him.
He helps her climb up on a small stool, so that she can reach the sink, and turns the hot and cold faucets on. The girl automatically puts her hands under the warm water and Oliver hands her some soap. She washes her hands five times before all the dirt and grime finally vanish. Then, Oliver wets a washcloth hanging from a towel rack and gently cleans her face off, making sure not to agitate the wounds on her face. It only takes two washes this time before her face is completely clean. Oliver tosses the soiled washcloth into the hamper before he looks at her face again. With the tearstains, dirt, grime, and blood smudges gone, he is now able to better assess the damage done to her face. It doesn't look nearly as bad as it did in the alleyway but the wounds still needed to be treated.
He reaches into his medicine cabinet above the sink and pulls out his medi-kit. He opens the white and red box and takes out some antiseptic and gauze. He unscrews the lid from the bottle of antiseptic, dabs some on the piece of gauze he has, and warns the girl, "Now, this may twinge a bit but the pain will be in gone in less than wee minute," before he proceeds to clean the opened cuts. The girl winces slightly but that is the only reaction he gets, which surprises him. He remembered how badly the antiseptic stung when his mother would treat his scrapes and cuts; he couldn't stop crying but the pain did go away eventually. Perhaps this girl is simply used to pain or perhaps she is simply numb; Oliver decides he doesn't like either of those conclusions.
Once he finishes disinfecting her wounds, Oliver pulls out his wand and mutters, "Vulnera Sanetur," every time he seals another cut. Then, he points at some of dried blood surrounding her cuts with his wand and mutters, "Tergeo," and her face is suddenly much cleaner. Next, he pulls down the lid to the toilet and sits the girl on top of it before he repeats the same process with her feet; clean, disinfect, close the wounds, and remove the dried blood. Just in case the wounds decide to reopen, he pulls out two bandages, wraps up both of her feet and then sits back on his heels to examine his healing work. Satisfied, he nods to himself and puts everything away.
When the two make their way back to the living room, and Oliver sits her back on the couch, he says, "Okay, I will be back in a wee bit; you stay there, alright lass?" The girl silently nods and he walks back into the kitchen. He sets about making about five peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pours some milk in a glass. True to his word, he comes back and offers her the plate of sandwiches. The girl grabs one and then proceeds to eat them hungrily. She finishes all but one sandwich before she gulps down the milk. As he watches her, Oliver wonders when was the last time she had anything to eat.
He would have made soup for her, but he was out; besides, his cooking skills aren't exactly that good. Now, Oliver can cook as his mother taught him over the summer, Easter, and Christmas holidays, but just enough to keep him from starving. So, normally he makes soup, sandwiches, noodles, cereal, and oatmeal. The last time he attempted to actually cook or bake something he nearly burnt his kitchen down.
When the girl is done, Oliver picks up the plate and places it in the sink so that he can wash it later. Next, he leads the girl into his messy bedroom and digs around in his closet until he finds the smallest clothes he can; his old Christmas sweater his mum made when he was in his third year of Hogwarts and a pair of navy blue drawstring sweatpants. He folds them neatly in his hands and leads the girl back into the bathroom. He turns on the faucets in the tub and tests the temperature of the water before he lets the girl test the temperature. She wordlessly nods her head to indicate that it is the right temperature and Oliver grabs a tub stopper and allows the tub to fill up. After this, he unwraps the dressings around her feet and helps her into the tub. She proceeds to wash herself while he turns his back to give her some privacy without actually leaving her unattended. He ends up having to drain and refill the tub several times before the girl is completely clean. As he goes to help her with her hair, he glances at all the bruises that litter her small body, and mentally curses the person who hurt this child.
After two hours, the girl dresses in the clothes he gave her and Oliver rewraps her feet. If a person looks past the bruises and her sunken in features, they would see a beautiful little girl with blonde hair, light blue eyes, and pale skin. Oliver wishes he could do something about the ugly bruises that mar her otherwise perfect features. However, bruises have to heal on their own as not even magic can get rid of them. He hands her an unused toothbrush and gently instructs her to brush her teeth. When she finishes, he shows her to the guest bedroom and helps her into bed. Before he leaves, he asks the girl, "Y'know, I never did get a name; what is your name, lass?" The girl is silent for a very long time before she answers in barely a whisper, "Angie, short for Angelina." Oliver nods at this and smiles gently at her.
"It's nice to meet you, Angie. I'm Oliver," the girl looks at him curiously. He goes to walk away but Angie catches the sleeve of his Puddlemere United sweater. He looks at her curiously.
"Stay," is all she manages to get out before she goes back to being quiet again. Oliver wordlessly nods.
"Okay, I'll stay." He conjures a small cot beside her bed, goes to his room to bring a pillow and a blanket, and turns off the light. "Good night, Angie." To his surprise, Angie answers him.
"Goodnight, Oliver." Oliver smiles at this and believes that he has made some progress with her. As he waits for her breathing even out, he makes a quick list of what all he will have to do tomorrow. Fortunately, he has the next three days off from practice to recover; he plans to spend those days getting groceries for the two of them, clothes for Angie, shampoo and conditioner for Angie, getting to know Angie better, and becoming her legal guardian. Hopefully tonight will be the start of a trusting relationship between them.
A/N: So, it's a bit short than what I usually write but hopefully I'll be able to write out longer chapters. What do you think of my third Harry Potter story? I've been on an Oliver Wood binge recently and this idea just sort of popped into my head at four in the morning two days ago. I hope that this will satisfy you guys until I can get started and finish the next chapter to A Godfather's Instinct. Phew! I have a lot of work to do, don't I? Eh, it won't be a problem.
Oh, I've also been trying to learn the Scots language and accent because I have Scottish hereitage and the actor who plays Oliver Wood is Scottish or Irish? I can't remember which now. :P Anyway! Excuse me if my Scottish is awful on that note, okay? As always, constructive criticism is helpful, reviews are appreciated, and flames just discourage. Keep that in mind. :D
Happy Reading,
ferret nin
