She was walking quickly, pulling her long robes more tightly around her
slim shoulders. Her breath was making a cloud in front of her face, and
she was wishing desperately for her warm bed all the way back at Gryffindor
Tower. Her detention in the dungeons had been absolute torture, as Snape
had been in an extremely foul mood. Even more so than usual. Eleanor was
deeply lost within her own thoughts of horrible enchantments with which to
attack Snape, when a dark figure seemed to appear from no where. As her
mind was elsewhere, Elle let out a startled yell, and stumbled right into
them. She tumbled to the ground, a mass of black robes and honey blonde
hair, her book bag splitting, with all the contents spilling out to cover
the cold dungeon floor.
"Ow!" she hissed, as she massaged her knee. She started to get up to apologize to the figure. "Sorry," She said, smiling and raking hair out of her startling green eyes, "I didn't see you th." but her smile faltered as she realized the identity of the person standing before her. She saw the steely glint in his eyes, and the evil grin spreading across his face. But before she could even comprehend screaming, a strong hand smashed across her face, and knocked her to oblivion.
Two months earlier
Breakfast in the Great Hall was chaotic as usual. Students everywhere chatting happily, cereal and milk was splattered everywhere. Oliver Wood was sitting at his usual place along the Gryffindor table, His head resting on his hand, playing with his porridge idly with his spoon. A dumb, dazed grin was plastered across his face, and it had been there since last night. Loud sniggering behind him knocked him out of his stupor, and he whirled around to find Fred, George, and Lee all looking at him, their bodies racked with silent laughter. "What's going on?" asked Oliver suspiciously. The twins and Lee stopped laughing immediately, and sat up straight, as if to suggest they'd gained control of themselves. "Thinking about Quiddich, Wood?" asked George in a mock innocent voice, and the three burst out laughing again, not bothering to keep their voices down this time. But Oliver just smiled. He knew they'd probably already heard about him and Eleanor. She was best friends with Alicia Spinnet after all, and had obviously already blabbed the news to her boyfriend - George. But he didn't care what they had to say - as far as he was concerned, he was as happy as he had ever been, even more so than when he was on the Quiddich pitch, the wind in his hair. He hadn't thought it was possible for him to enjoy something more than the best sport in the world, but then, he had thought of a lot of things differently before he met Elle. She had transferred to Hogwarts at the beginning of this year, Wood's seventh and last. She was a year younger than him, but in the same grade. At her previous school, Elle had completed the equivalent of sixth year already, so she was put straight into seventh, even though she was only 16. From the first moment he saw her, Oliver knew there was something about her. They had quickly become friends, but they had both known there was something more between them. His mind usually solely occupied with Quiddich tactics, and the next practice, Wood had discovered something inside him that was reaching out to her, so strongly that neither of them could deny it.
Which is why, last night, they had met up in the Common Room to talk. At about twelve thirty, Eleanor had come down the stairs to find Oliver standing waiting for her. Neither of them said a word as she walked over to him, and he took her hand. Sparkling green stared into deep brown and got helplessly lost. He reached up and stroked her jaw line with his hand. She draped her arms around his neck, and closed the distance between them. Their lips touched sweetly, and he could smell her golden hair. Her scent enveloped his senses as he deepened the kiss, and his arms moved to wrap tightly around her waist. After a moment, he pulled away to whisper huskily "This feels so right." She pulled away and looked up into his face for a second. Her eyes were searching him intently, but he didn't feel uncomfortable under her gaze. "We are meant to be together." She said at last. He hugged her closely to him, and breathed in her scent. Wood was sure she was right. He had never felt anything like this his whole life. They had spent the night on a large comforter in front of the fire, hands entwined, and neither of them feeling the need to break the comfortable silence.
Oliver caught his breath as he caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. Not content with his memories of the night before, he turned to watch Eleanor enter the Great Hall. She walked purposefully towards him, and he studied her beautifully fine features, emerald green eyes, and her shimmering long hair flowing out behind her. She was gorgeous. stunning. And Wood could not believe it was him that she had chosen. Every male head turned as she walked confidently over to where Wood sat, watching jealously as her face broke into an amazing grin at the sight of him. When she reached him, she leaned over to steal a quick kiss, and then proceeded to settle in and eat breakfast. Wood just sat with that dumb grin plastered all over his handsome face, and, not taking his eyes off Elle, started spooning his porridge into his chin.
When she woke up, Eleanor didn't recognize her surroundings. She sat up, and rested on one hand, wincing as she felt her head with the other. She looked around her, confused, unable to determine where she was. The room was dark, with black shadows everywhere. Then, from the furthest corner, came a voice that brought the last moments she remembered flooding back to her. "You are even more beautiful when you're sleeping." Oh my God, Elle thought to herself, horrified. Oh my God. She got up quickly, fighting dizziness, and searched around the dark for an exit. "You can't escape. there's no way. And no one will be able to hear you if you scream." His voice was cold. There was no feeling in it. "Please, you don't want to do this." came Elle's panicked response, as she saw him get up and start walking towards her. He started getting closer, and she backed into a wall. Tears had started to leak out of her eyes as she realized the hopelessness of her situation. "You won't get away with it." She tried to sound strong, but her voice was breaking. He was only a few feet away from her now, and she could see the coldness of his stare. Her whole body shivered, and it was getting increasingly harder to remain on her feet. Her legs seemed to be giving way. "No, Marcus, please don't hurt me." she pleaded as he grasped her wrists in his vice like grip.
Life for Oliver was as he had never imagined possible. He sat with Elle at the back of their Potions class, stealing looks at her every minute or so. They had been together for several weeks, and he knew he was without a doubt falling in love. He loved every tiny thing about her. They way she swept her long hair over one shoulder so she could write down some notes on a complicated healing potion, the way her brow knotted when she didn't understand something, her perfect smile when she noticed him staring.
At the front of the room, Marcus Flint had turned to watch the couple smile at each other. He looked on with hate emitting from every pore on his body. His eyes narrowed maliciously as he pulled out his wand, muttered under his breath, and watched as Eleanor's ink pot exploded, showering everyone with ink, and ruining her work. She looked up, shocked, and caught a glimpse of Flint smiling before Snape, furious, rounded on her. "Detention, Miss Ross." He hissed at her, "and 20 points from Gryffindor for deliberately causing trouble. And I expect a spotless copy of your work at the end of the lesson." Elle stared wordlessly at the professor, but did not dare push any further. Instead, she stared at Marcus Flint, who was now working quietly, but she could tell he was still smiling to himself.
Tears were now streaming down her perfect face, she started to fight against his grip, but was stopped viciously when he slapped her so hard she saw stars. She tasted blood as he stepped closer into her, their bodies now touching, his breath on her neck. Whimpering, she screwed her face up as he forced her hands above her head, and held them there with one hand, leaving the other free. "It makes it more fun for me if you fight" He was so close he only had to whisper. She could feel his arousal against her thigh, and swallowed hard, terrified. With his free hand, he slowly felt his way down her side, causing her to moan dejectedly, and bringing on a fresh set of tears. He brought his hand around and started to squeeze her chest, muttering a spell that bound her hands to the wall, and allowed him free reign. He took a step back, and opened the front of her robes roughly. Elle could hear his heavy breathing as he ripped the heavy material away from her body, leaving her in her blouse and skirt.
Unable to control herself, Eleanor started sobbing heavily, her body heaving. "Please! Oh God! Please don't!" she cried. But Flint just sniggered. Again he slapped her hard across the face, silencing her effectively. "I'm getting tired of your sniveling, Eleanor." He spat, and muttered another spell, causing her hands to be released. Elle crumpled to the floor, curling into a tight ball, her hands around her knees. But he grabbed hold of her hair, and forced her back to her feet. She yelped in pain, and flailed helplessly with her hands, trying to scratch him. "None of that now, sweetness." Flint forced her hands behind her back, and pinned them there, "That's not very lady like of you." "Fuck you, you pig!" She cried at him, kicking out, trying anything to hurt him. But he was to strong for her. She was unwillingly lead over to the middle of the room, where he threw her at his feet. "No, I won't let you!" she sobbed, trying to get up. But he kicked her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and she fell back to the hard stone. He stood over her, and she looked up to see him fumbling with his robes. Her eyes widened with horror as it dawned on her that she wasn't going to get out of this. He leant down and captured her hands again, but she started screaming at the top of her lungs. Unable to gain control or her writhing body, Flint planted a walloping punch square at her face. She went limp in his hands, as blood trickled out of her mouth. But she was just barely conscious. She mumbled dejectedly as the room swam before her eyes. Nothing was in focus. She couldn't even comprehend her blouse being ripped from her body.
After the potions lesson, Oliver waited out in the corridor for Elle. She was being given the details of her detention by Snape. He was leaning against the wall when Marcus Flint swaggered up to him. "What do you want?" Oliver snapped. Every encounter with Flint, both on and off the Quiddich pitch had been a bad experience. They were rivals in every subject. "She's going to be sorry she ever met you, Wood." Every word was dripping with venom. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Oliver asked, but he knew Marcus was just trying to bait him in front of the Professor. And sure enough, Flint walked off without answering. But still, Wood was fazed by the whole thing. He was very protective of Eleanor, even though he knew he should be. But he didn't think Elle minded, and she always seemed so oblivious to all the male attention she got.
Just then, in a blur of golden hair, and black robes, she came sweeping out of the classroom swearing bloody murder. "I tell you! I'm going to scream at him one of these days. All those cracks about me being younger, and immature! I wish he would choke on his bloody potions!" The encounter with Flint was pushed to the back of his mind as he noticed how adorable she was when she was angry. "How much would I give just to see him trip over that bloody cauldron of his.. What are you smiling at?" All her anger ebbed away as Oliver just shook his head, still smiling, and took her hand, leading her up the hallway.
Her head swam with images of Oliver while Flint tore at her remaining clothes. All she felt was pain. Everywhere, her body screamed. When she moaned, he punched her again. Then again. And again. He was getting continuously more excited at her distress. Her attempts at fighting him off didn't even get noticed. Finally, she collapsed, tears streaming down her eyes, and lay still while Flint raped her. All she could think about was Oliver. His face danced in front of her. His gorgeous smile, his earnest brown eyes. Those eyes that she got lost in every time he looked at her. She smiled weakly, and Flint slapped her for it. But she hardly felt it. All the pain was melting together. And her mind was fixed on Wood. "I love you" spat Flint, as he came. But there was nothing but hate in the way he said it. Elle was limp beneath him, her head lolling with each of his thrusts. As he finally got off her, and readjusted his robes, he saw the mess he had created. She was bruised and bleeding, her dark blood mixing with her tears. Elle lay, finally slipping into blissful unconsciousness, torn and beaten on the cold dungeon floor.
The night Eleanor had detention, Wood waited impatiently in the Common Room. He was becoming increasingly agitated as the time ticked by. Midnight came and went, and Oliver started felling uneasy. It shouldn't be taking this long. he thought to himself. But he reasoned with himself that he was just being overprotective again. To make himself feel better, he decided to go down to the dungeons to wait for Elle there. He couldn't stand sitting around doing nothing any longer, and so began the long trek down to the dungeons where Snape held his detentions. He still felt a niggling feeling that something was wrong, and when he came across Elle's book bag and all its contents strewn around one of the darkest corridors, he started panicking. Racing along the hallway, he threw open every classroom door, searching it quickly, and then moving on to the next. He went along the whole corridor, until coming to the last class room. He tried the door, to find it locked. By this time, Wood was terrified of what he was going to find behind the door. "Alohamora" He whispered. And the lock clicked open. After taking a shaky deep breath, Oliver pushed the door open slowly, it hinges squeaking eerily.
The first thing he saw as he entered the shadowy room was a blur of colors. Golden blond swirled into dark red. Blue and purple bruises covered her pale skin, her body lay in the center of the room, and the position is was in left Wood in no doubt of what had happened to her. Sorrow as he had never known burned through his heart as he dropped to his knees beside her exposed figure. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he quickly pulled the nearest article of clothing over to cover her broken body. He wrapped his own robes loosely around her and lifted her head into his lap. "HELP!" he screamed to the darkness. "Somebody! Please Oh God! HELP US!" He bent over to check her breathing, and cried out in relief when he heard her raspy breath. He gathered her into his arms, wincing as he felt the limpness of her battered body, and carried her out of the dis-used class room. Oliver stumbled blindly towards the hospital wing, tears uncontrollable, muttering "Hold on, please.. Hold on!" As he neared the medical center, he started screaming for help at the top of his lungs. Madame Pomfrey appeared in the corridor ahead of him, and rushed towards his as she realized what he was carrying.
As she ushered Oliver into the hospital wing, she told the closest nurse hurriedly to fetch Dumbledore immediately. As the nurse rushed out of the room, Madame Pomfrey gently lay Eleanor on the closest bed, and unwrapped her from Wood's robe. Oliver jumped at her sharp intake of breath. "Oh my!" She breathed. "This poor girl!" "Her name is Eleanor Ross, she is in Seventh year, in Gryffindor. I found her in an old class room down in the dungeons." Wood hurriedly explained. "You better wait outside, Mr. Wood." "No! I want to stay with her!" Yelled Oliver, loosing control. "I think it would be better if you do." came a quiet voice from the doorway. Albus Dumbledore stood there, staring at Elle's broken form. Pain filled every millimeter of his usually sparkling eyes. He was about to comfort Wood when more shouts could be heard coming towards the hospital wing. Two other Slytherin seventh years were running up to the door, carrying a third. Blood was dripping from the third form, and Wood recognized the heavy set face of Marcus Flint. "We think he did it to himself sir." explained one of the seventh year's quickly. And Dumbledore took the limp body from their arms. He lay it down on the bed next to Eleanor, and bent over him. "This boy is dead." He said quietly.
Wood stared blankly, unable to move. He and the two seventh year Slytherins were still standing at the door. He glanced at their stunned faces, they were both in shock. Then he noticed one of them had a bloody piece of paper clenched tightly in his fist. Wood looked from the paper, to the body of Flint, and then to the mess that was his only love. Realization dawned on him suddenly, and he staggered in horror. "It was him!" he shouted to the occupants of the room, "Flint did this to her!" he yelled, pointing towards Eleanor. And he snatched the paper out of the boy's hand. "We found that next to him ." he said softly, as Oliver ripped the paper open.
I'm sorry for what I did to her. I loved her. She didn't love me.
White hot anger welled up inside Oliver as he read over the words again. Then three times. Then four. Dumbledore saw him shaking with rage, and walked over to block his view of Flint. He put both hands on the younger's shoulders, and forced him to look him in the eye. "There is nothing you can do to help this situation now, Master Wood. I'm afraid only Madame Pomfrey has the ability to care for young Eleanor, and it would be best for all if you could please make your way back to your Common Room." "But Professor." "I'm sorry Oliver, but please do as I say. And it would also be helpful if you could keep the details of what has occurred tonight to yourself, until after breakfast tomorrow morning. I will be contacting both students' parents tonight. It's late now son, try to get some sleep."
All Oliver could think about as he stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower was the way he had found Eleanor. Her bloody figure had tattooed itself on his mind, an unrelenting reminder of the torture she had been subjected to. Her beautiful hair stained with red. Her smooth skin bruised and battered. Her robes torn and her body ravaged. Wood could not escape the images dancing before his eyes. He blamed himself for not realizing sooner that something was terribly wrong. Lost in his own thoughts he came around one of the last corners and smashed head-long into Fred and George. With a heavy thud, the three crashed to the ground.
When the twins realized who they had crashed into, George stuttered "Where have you been Wood? We've been looking all over the place for you... why are you walking around the halls at this hour of the night? You look an awful mess! You had us really worried, we thought you'd fallen down the toilet or something!!"
All this came out extremely fast.
Oliver was massaging his head; he had knocked it when he fell. "I ah... I was.... she... oh, God."
He couldn't hold himself together anymore. He broke down in front of the Weasleys, sobbing hard.
"I didn't get there in time..." he cried though his tears."She was already..." But he couldn't string words together anymore. The twins looked at Wood, amazed. They had never seen him like this. Not even when he had taken a serious tumble during a Quiddich match back in fourth year. Even with a broken leg and two broken ribs, he had not been reduced to this blubbering mess. They looked at each other in shock, and then quickly moved to comfort him.
"What's wrong?"
"Did something happen?"
Come on, we didn't hit you THAT hard..."
But all they could get out of him was "Eleanor..." he kept repeating her name over and over again. Instead, they pulled him to his feet, each supporting one side, and practically dragged him back to the Common Room, then up to his dorm. By the time they reached his four poster bed, Oliver had quieted down considerably, but was still not talking. The twins decided not to press him any further, but made sure he was settled in bed before quietly slinking out of the room, trying not to wake the other seventh years, and heading back to the fifth year dorm. They were extremely interested about what could have happened to cause such a violent reaction from Wood, and worried about Eleanor, as they had figured it had something to do with her.
Back at the hospital wing, Eleanor was regaining consciousness. With a small moan, she tried to lift her head to determine her surroundings, but found it impossible with the amount of pain that shot through her like hot knives at the movement. Hearing her stirrings, Madame Pomfrey rushed to Elle's side and started checking her over. Her vision was blurry, and she could not make out the person hovering over her. Then, all of a sudden, Eleanor remembered what had caused her to black out, and she started thrashing against the figure, yelling at the top of her voice. "No! Get away! Get off me!" she cried, as firm hands tried to push her back onto the bed. "It's all right Eleanor, it's all right!" came a soothing motherly voice. Elle hesitated. "It's over now. it's all over" the voice cooed. Concerned brown eyes swam into focus, and Eleanor recognized Madam Pomfrey's worried face. "Oh, thank God." was all she could manage before bursting into tears as the past few hours relived themselves in her mind. Fighting the pain scouring her entire body, she allowed the matron to lower her back into bed, and concentrated with all her might on the soft comforting voice. As she started to calm down, Madam Pomfrey propped up her head, and offered Elle a steaming potion, and, after a wince of distaste at the first sip, reassured her with "just to help you sleep dear, and to stop you from dreaming." With that, Eleanor downed the potion, and lay back to feel sleep crawling over her immediately.
The next morning, Wood could be found sitting at the breakfast table extremely early. He had been unable to sleep a wink all night, and had finally come down to the great hall at about 5 am - before the food was even ready. Oliver found it extremely hard to suppress the images of Eleanor with his eyes open, so it was virtually impossible to see anything else when they were closed. As the students started gradually milling in, with varying degrees of alertness, Wood stayed to himself. Mumbling greetings, and not meeting anyone's eyes. His fellow Gryffindor's noticed his shabby appearance, his knotted brow and his troubled eyes. The more attentive of the group connected his state to the absence of Eleanor, as the two had been practically joined at the hip since they had started seeing each other. But when questioned, Wood just shrugged them off, saying nothing, and withdrawing inside himself even more. Then, just as the hall was reaching its usual state of busyness, the post owls swooped down to deliver the morning's mail. Nothing came for Oliver, but he noticed a small tawny owl circling overhead. He recognized it immediately as Pip, Elle's beloved pet. Enticing it down with a piece of toast, Wood relieved Pip of her letter, and pocketed it, making a mental note to pass it on to Elle, as soon as she was up to it. Just as he was packing up his things, ready to head back up to the Common Room, Wood was approached by Professor McGonagall.
"A word, if you could, please Wood?" She said quietly so as only he could hear, and proceeded to lead him away from the table. "I'm sure you have no doubt as to what this is about." Wood shook his head numbly. "I've just been up at the hospital wing. Dumbledore has filled me in on what happened last night." They were walking very quickly together through the halls, and as she continued, her voice softened. "I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that Miss Ross is much better this morning, thanks to Madame Pomfrey, but she's had to explain everything that happened to her last night to the authorities. She stopped suddenly at the entrance to her office. "I have other duties at the moment Wood, but I was sent to retrieve you. Eleanor has been calling for you." Oliver sprinted from the spot as soon as the words left her mouth, calling a hurried "Thanks" over his shoulder. He didn't slow his pace until he reached the hospital wing.
She was sitting, propped up with pillows, on the bed he had left her in the night before. There were two adults standing next to her bed, and judging by the female's blond hair, Wood deducted they were Eleanor's parents. He hesitated at the doorway, not sure if he should interrupt on this family moment, but the decision was made for him, when Elle caught sight of him in the gap between her parents. Her face broke out into the first real smile her parents had seen since they arrived early this morning, and they turned around to see a tall, well built seventh year, with an expression of extremely concern etched into every corner of his handsome face. But then, a wave of humiliation swept over Elle, as she realized Wood already knew what Flint had forced her to do. She hung her head in shame, fighting back a fresh set of tears, as she wondered if he'd ever look at her the same way again. They had been seeing each other for two months, but had not yet progressed past kissing. Eleanor felt disgusted at her self, and had convinced herself that Oliver would want nothing to do with someone as dirty and Vile as she.
Noting her downcast look, Oliver rushed to Elle's side at once, and gently took her hand in his. The cuts and scrapes had already been magically mended he noticed, and guessed the same was true for the broken bones. However, her beautiful face still showed the many bruises she had obtained during the ordeal, and she winced slightly as she shifted her weight, a single tear gliding down her face. His deep brown eyes bored into her startling green ones, and an unspoken communication seemed to pass through them. Elle's face seemed to relax as she realized she didn't have to worry about his feelings for her. Oliver leaned down slowly, and planted a tender kiss on Eleanor's forehead, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Ahem." The man on the other side of the bed cleared his throat loudly, forcing Oliver's attention away from Elle. Her parents were watching him intently.
"Oh, I'm very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Ross. I'm Oliver Wood." "Yes, we know who you are, Oliver" answered the lady kindly. Her eyes were red and blotchy - Wood could tell she had been crying. "We've been hearing about you just about all year." She extended her hand, which Wood shook politely. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." At his wife's words, Mr. Ross offered his hand as well, but didn't seem to be in the mood for proper introductions. His attention went straight back to his daughter, who had been watching the exchange carefully. "How are you feeling now dear?" he asked gruffly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm feeling much better now, Dad" she replied assuring. And she broke into another amazing smile at the look in Wood's troubled brown eyes. "I think we'll give you two a little time alone." came Mrs. Ross's soft voice, and they walked away, leaving Wood with Elle, both of his hands now capturing hers, talking in quiet undertones.
He spent most of the morning with Eleanor, finally leaving after an irritated Madam Pomfrey insisted Elle get some more sleep, in order for the last of the healing potions to take effect. With one last fleeting glance over his shoulder at Eleanor settling back into bed, and a hurried goodbye to her parents, Wood left the hospital wing and strode back towards the Great Hall, as Lunch was just about to begin. But as he walked through the entrance hall, nearing the double doors, he saw another couple entering the school, accompanied by Dumbledore. The woman was sobbing hysterically, and the man was standing irresolute, his face completely impassive. From the looks of them, Oliver could tell they were Marcus Flint's parents. it seemed Flint had inherited his father's heavy set face, and his mother's hooked nose. Dumbledore was trying to lead the two towards the stairs talking quietly under his breath, but Mr. Flint stopped suddenly, and burst into a rage.
"I simply do NOT believe it!" he shouted at the headmaster. The woman wailed sorrowfully. "There has to be some mistake! I will not tolerate such treachery!" His face was purpling, and spittle was flying from his mouth. "I condemn you for even suggesting he would do something like this to himself."
Dumbledore halted as well, and held up a hand, as if to say stop. He did not raise his voice, but Oliver, who was standing across the room, before the double doors, could hear his precise tone nonetheless.
"Your outrage is understandable, Mr. Flint. However, you didn't let me finish. I also believe there has been foul play here - and although I have no evidence of such, I assure you, I will get to the bottom of this."
Wood listened to the professor's words, and his jaw dropped, horrified. The three were half way up the stairs before he found his feet, and started sprinting towards them, shouting.
"WHAT?!" he yelled, "you can't be serious, professor! You saw what Flint did to Eleanor!"
Dumbledore had turned around as Oliver caught up.
"Yes, Master Wood, I saw. However, what we see isn't always what is really there."
The younger paused for a second, confusion knotting his brow. Then the meaning of the headmaster's words dawned on him.
"You think someone murdered him." he said softly.
Somewhere in the distance, the bell rang, signaling the end of lessons. Students would be milling around in seconds.
"I understand your distress, Oliver, but if you could please leave the matter for the time being, just until more information can be gathered."
Wood nodded his head dejectedly.
"Now, I believe we are having quiche for Lunch today!" said Dumbledore, his tone lightening. "One of my very favorites! Why don't you go tuck in, while I have a word to Marcus's parents in my office?" His tone left nothing to be questioned with, so Wood turned and made his way back to the double doors, his head buzzing with questions. Could it possible that Flint was not the one to attack Elle? Could he have been set up?
Much later that night, Elle awoke in her hospital bed, wondering what had startled her out of slumber. She sat up groggily, thinking it would have to be something extremely loud, considering the amount of sleeping potion Madame Pomfrey had forced on to stop her nightmares. But instead of hearing some earsplitting disturbance, the noise of soft breathing met her ears. Her face broke into a soft smile at the sight of Oliver, hunched over her bed, resting his head on his arms, deep in sleep. She couldn't resist the urge to gently trace her fingers across his forehead, brushing away a few stray strands of hair. Wood smiled in his sleep, forcing Eleanor to suppress her giggles. She couldn't believe that he had risked detention to sneak up to see her again. He practically hadn't left her side the whole time she was awake. The matron was becoming increasingly annoyed with him, having to shoo him out at every break time between lessons. But at long last, tonight was the last night would have to spend within the confines of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had informed her so just before she had gone to sleep. Again Elle felt the need to reach out to the sleeping form in front of her. Wood looked so adorable with his hair all scruffy, and his handsome face relaxed with sleep. She ran her hand through his light brown tresses, marveling at the softness of it, when a strong hand closed over hers. "You are meant to be resting." he said groggily, his voice thick. "And you are meant to be tucked up all the way back at Gryffindor Tower!" she whispered back, smiling down at him. His hand was still holding hers.
"I just needed to make sure you were all right." he explained, the troubled look that had momentarily left his features during sleep came flooding back in full force. He sat up, his gorgeous brown eyes full of worry once again. "How many times do I have to tell you?" Elle scolded, "I'm better. I'm getting out of here tomorrow! I'm even going back to classes. It's been two weeks now. you have to stop worrying about me." Wood just looked at the beauty before him. The bruises had all but vanished, and she was back to her usual, stunning self. Even in the wee hours of the morning she looked amazing, he mused to himself. The troubled look had not left Wood's eyes, as Elle watched him. "What are you thinking?" she asked after a considerable pause. Oliver didn't answer her. He couldn't think of any words to describe what he was feeling that very second. Instead, he gently reached towards her, stroking the side of her jaw. The two leaned towards each other, and their lips met sweetly. Elle locked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He encircled her slim frame, deepening the kiss. Elle was feeling electricity surge through her body, every limb was on fire. She never wanted Wood's strong arms to let go. She never wanted him to leave. She never ever wanted to be without him again. "I love you" she said hoarsely, and they broke apart to get some much needed air. "I will always love you." Oliver pulled back, and studied her emerald green eyes, which were welling up with tears. "You know I love you too." His own eyes were serious. "No matter what. Forever."
The next few days passed extremely quickly. Elle's transition back to classes went smoothly for the most part. Although there were many instances of abuse thrown at her from the Slytherin's, Wood was surprised at how well she re-adjusted. One day not long after she returned from the hospital wing, a small group of Slytherin girls had cornered Eleanor and Oliver down one of the more deserted corridors. "You are a filthy s*lut." Spat one of them. "You never deserved his attention. w*hore." "This is all your fault, t*ramp. You killed Marcus. You were never even worthy of being in the same room as him." "You deserve to die, Eleanor. Die, like he did. all because of you." "You will pay for murdering him, Eleanor. He killed himself because of you. We will make sure of it. You will pay." The insults were coming at her from every direction. Wood was standing next to her, his every fiber bristling with rage. He was about to let it rip on the surrounding girls, but Elle interrupted him. She spoke in a calm, clear voice, looking around at each of the girls in turn. "You must all be very upset. I am sorry for your loss. I hope you can find forgiveness in your hearts like I have. But for now, I pity you deeply." Just as she had suspected, her words caused an explosion of anger from the Slytherins. She had outraged them more by what she had said than she could have with any insult, or by raising her voice. The two walked away from the group, hand in hand. After they had rounded a corner, Wood stopped Elle, placing both hands on her shoulders. "You don't really forgive him do you Elle? You can't have really meant that." She studied his fine features for a moment before replying. "No, I don't. And I won't for a long time. But eventually, I will. I will heal emotionally as well as physically, and forgiveness comes along with that. And anyway. if what you told me Dumbledore thinks about Flint is true. I don't have anything to forgive him for. He was used, and attacked, just like I was. And I know the face that haunts my nightmares is always going to be his, but I will get better. Those girls were just trying to get a violent response from me, and I gave them what they didn't expect. And even though what I said wasn't exactly true at this very moment.. It will be, and that's all that matters." Oliver kept staring at her until long after she finished. Elle was looking at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking. He was in awe of her. Everything about her. "And I thought you were just a pretty face." He said finally, evoking a rare and wonderful laugh, lighting up her beautiful features. She wondered briefly how he was able to keep surprising her, before she grasped his hand tightly in hers, and continued down the corridor, both of them still smiling.
The next morning, during breakfast, Wood and Elle could be found huddled close together on one side of the Gryffindor table. It seemed they were completely oblivious to the hustle and bustle around them, as countless students went about their morning rituals. Eleanor was holding a piece of jam toast poised half way to her mouth, seemingly forgotten. She and Oliver were conversing rapidly, in hushed tones. Onlookers from around the hall smiled inwardly at the sight, and those close enough to hear their quiet voices strained to listen closely. "They are just worried about you, Elle." came Wood's deep whisper. He was holding a piece of parchment, which had just arrived with the morning post. He brandished it in front of her face. "I know, I know! Everyone is worried about me!" she sighed, exasperated. But she couldn't help but smile at the deep brown eyes staring sternly at her. "Can you blame them?" he asked seriously. But his face broke into a grin as she took the letter from her parents out of his hands and replaced it with one of her own. Elle looked up at him cheekily. "Well, they said they would write as soon as they got home, and they have. There's nothing more to it. I've told them a thousand times that I'm ok, and if they don't want to believe me, I'm fine with that. But I'm not dwelling on it for another second!" And with that, she tore the letter to pieces. "But." Oliver started to protest. Try as he might, he could not get Elle to take things more seriously, and he commended her for the way she was taking things, but he feared she was just pushing the pain away. He could see it was still there, buried deep inside her. There were moments where she just stared off into space, a look of pain etched into every corner of her beautiful face, but when he confronted her, she just laughed it off. It was hard to watch her shrug off her problems, when he knew she was tormenting herself about what had happened. Eleanor did not let him object. She planted a quick kiss fair on his lips to stop him from questioning her. Taken aback with her playfulness, Oliver pulled back gently. "I know what you're trying to do." he said sternly, but a smile was gracing his features as he tried to look serious. "And is it working?" Elle asked coyly, leaning in for another sweet kiss. Wood didn't answer, he was content to just sit there being kissed, but a loud voice coming from across the table startled them both out of their stupor. "Ok, this is getting ridiculous!" shouted Angelina. She was looking at them from the other side of the table, her face displaying mock fury. "I think I speak for everyone here, when I say that Elle needs to come with me for some serious Girl-only time!" Angelina was walking around the bench, and practically dragged Eleanor away from an extremely confused Wood, mumbling something about retail therapy. Elle managed a hurried smile over her shoulder as Angelina pulled her into the entrance hall. There, a group of girls were waiting for them. From what she could she, they were all in Gryffindor, and all in either sixth or seventh year. "Ok, Ok.. Explain." started Eleanor. "You saved her!" exclaimed one of the other girls. Elle recognized her as a fellow Gryffindor seventh year, Amy. "We thought she had been lost to the handsome beast forever!" yelled another. It was Erin this time. The girls started laughing and Angelina explained. "Ok, Elle, we know that a lot has happened, and we are glad that you are better, but we can't help but be seriously offended when you spend every waking moment glued to that boy's side, and completely ditch your girlfriends!" "Although it is a really nice side that she is glued to" Gail butted in, which elicited another wave of giggles from the group. Eleanor couldn't help but grin. "So anyway." continued Angelina, giving Gail a stern look, "we have decided to take you on a much needed female only outing. and there just happens to be a Hogsmead trip this weekend, but I'm sure you wouldn't have noticed that, being as. err. preoccupied as you were." The girls laughed heartily again. Elle looked around at the faces of her friends, then back over her shoulder at Wood, who was watching her intently through the open double doors. Fred Weasley was waving his hand in front of Oliver's face. But he didn't seem to notice. He smiled broadly as Elle glanced at him. But she quickly turned back to the girls. "Ok, I guess." she said in mock defeat. And they all started to walk towards the stairs. But Elle stopped very suddenly. She suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and the smile was gone from her face. She looked up at the other girls, panicked, as the room started to spin. Angelina was putting a hand on her shoulder, asking her what was wrong, but she could no longer focus on anything in the room. Putting a hand to her head, she started to sway on the spot, trying force her legs to carry her weight. No longer hearing the other girls shouts of alarm, the blonde girl slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Back at the table, Wood had not taken his eyes off her the whole time she was in the entrance hall. He watched as she suddenly stopped behind the groups of girls, as she stumbled, and put a hand to her head. He jumped to his feet so quickly, he knocked Fred to the ground, who let out a grumbling "Hey!" Without so much as a glance backwards, he flew across the room towards her. Oliver had only covered half the distance to Elle when he saw her crumple to the floor. He sprinted to her side, as the group of girls huddled around her. Other people were coming over to see what was happening. There was soon a substantial group surrounding them. "Elle! Wake up!" he yelled, shaking her gently. He looked up at Angelina. "What happened?" "I don't know," she said hurriedly, "she was fine just a second ago." Wood looked down hopelessly at the girl he loved.
He was standing over her. She could see the hatred in his eyes. There was so much pain. She could not move, he was holding her too tightly. He was on top of her. Then he was inside her. She was screaming. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Why could no one hear her? Why was no one coming?
A soft, worried voice penetrated her mind. She could hear it, faintly calling her. Elle concentrated on that voice, the one that was making the pain go away. Making the screaming fade in her ears. It was getting louder, she could hear Oliver. Oliver was calling her name. He sounded scared. Eleanor wanted to comfort him. But where was he? She felt something cold and hard underneath her. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Why was she on the floor?
Her eyes fluttered open.
"Oh thank God," came Angelina's relieved voice. Elle's vision suddenly cleared, revealing a large group of people surrounding her. Oliver's troubled brown eyes swam in front of her, and she smiled, despite herself. He was leaning over her, holding her hand tightly. "What happened?" she asked quizzically, sitting up slowly. Oliver didn't answer. He seemed too preoccupied with checking her over to worry about what she was saying. "You fainted, Elle." The reply came from Felicity - A Gryffindor sixth year, who was crouching next to her on the other side. Her smile faltered, as she remembered what she had been dreaming about. But she replaced it quickly, as to not alarm anyone. She didn't want people fussing over her again, so she tried to get up. Oliver, however, was not that easily fooled. "I'm taking you to the hospital wing." he said softly, grasping her under her arm, and helping her to her feet. "Oh, don't be silly," she said, smiling broadly, "look at me! I'm absolutely fine!" Her grin seemed to assure most of the people surrounding them, and they started milling away quietly. But Oliver was staring at her with a look that plainly said "no, you're not." "Honestly!" cried Elle, looking at the disbelieving faces of her friends, "I just haven't been eating properly! You guys shouldn't get so worried!" She had started walking towards the stairs again, eliciting new protests from Wood. "Elle, no! You can't do this all the time! You can't just laugh stuff like this off!" But she had already started on her way back to Gryffindor tower. "Really, I'm fine. I have two parents already, I don't need this from you guys." She was smiling as she said it, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice. And with that she turned, and left what was left of the group staring after her. "I'm worried about her." started Wood. "We all are."answered Angelina.
As soon as Elle rounded the first corner, she broke into a run. Unable to control them any longer, tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. When she reached the portrait of the fat lady, she was a complete mess. "My dear!" exclaimed the woman, shocked, "What's the matter?" "Nothing, never mind." shouted Elle, "Shalobshkabob." The portrait swung open at once, hiding a very disgruntled fat lady from view. Eleanor hurried through the common room, which, thankfully, was mostly empty, as most of the students were at the Hogsmead weekend. She dint stop running until she got up to her dorm, magically slamming the door behind her with a wave of her hand. Finally alone, she collapsed on her bed, and sobbed into the pillows. She didn't come out for most of the day.
Wood was sitting in the common room, waiting for her to come back down from her dorm. He sat there patiently, staring at the common room fire, thinking about what had happened. She had only been unconscious for a few seconds, a minute at most, and when she woke up, there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with her. But the way she had come up here and stayed in her room all day clearly proved that she wasn't as alright as she had made out. By the time 4 o'clock came and went, he had decided to go up and bring her down. Dinner would be in a couple of hours, and he didn't want her to miss another meal. He walked slowly up the spiral steps, pausing before her door trying to listen for any movement inside. "Elle?" he called gently. But no one answered, so he pulled out his wand. "Alohamora." Wood muttered, gratefully hearing the lock click open. He pushed the door open slowly, and took a step inside.
She was lying on her four poster bed, with her head resting on her arm. She was looking out the window, but her eyes seemed to be staring into nothing. Wood didn't think she had even noticed he had walked into her room, but when he spoke, she didn't jump. "Eleanor?" he asked quietly. She didn't answer. "Are you ok?" Oliver berated himself in his head. Of course she wasn't alright. He crossed the room to where she was lying, and sat down on the side of the bed. She turned to face him, at last acknowledging his existence. "I'm fine." Elle answered, although her voice sounded anything but. It was shaky, and hollow, masking her pain less than effectively. But her face remained expressionless, and her eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle. Oliver stared into them, wondering how he had not been able to see their shine dimming over the past few weeks. With a jolt of sorrow, he realized she had been alone in her pain, and that he should have been the one to console her, but she had kept it too well hidden. "I know what your thinking." She said softly, as she studied Wood's troubled face. "Your thinking it's your fault. aren't you.?" It wasn't a question. He was starting to speak, but she cut him off. "Oliver. You don't understand. You are what's keeping me sane. You have helped me more than you can ever know since what happened. Without you, I'd be an absolute wreck." "But I haven't!" he cried, exasperated, "You are in so much pain, and all I've done is ignore it!" "No, you haven't." her voice was gentle, "you have comforted me, you just didn't know you were doing it." Wood looked at her, skeptical, but he didn't say anything more. He reached to brush a stand of honey coloured hair out of her eyes. She closed her eyes as he touched her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened this morning?" he asked. Her emerald green eyes opened slowly at his question. She took a deep breath, and then pulled on his arm. She pulled him down towards her, so that he was lying next to her, their faces about 20cm apart. "I truthfully don't know." Elle started. "And that's what terrifies me the most. I keep having these awful nightmares. And they are getting worse. It used to be just the attack, but now there are things that never actually happened. I keep seeing his face." "Flints?" he offered, and she nodded her head slowly. "But it's not him. It looks like him, and it sounds like him, but I know it's someone else. I don't know how I know, I just do. And I know that he's the one that's doing this to me. Giving me the nightmares. Whoever it is, they are still after me. I can feel it." Eleanor finished. She had expected Wood to freak out. To tell her that she was imagining things, that it was all in her head. At the very least, she expected him to panic. But he just lay there, looking at her, searching her face in silence. Then, finally, he spoke. "Are you hungry?" Elle looked at him, shocked, but she recovered enough to answer truthfully.
"Um, yeah, a little." "I came up here to make sure you came down to eat something. So I reckon we should go to dinner, and then head straight to Dumbledore's office. I also think someone is still after you, and I want to talk to the headmaster about what he thinks happened. But for now, I just want you to concentrate on yourself. you need to get some food into you. I'm sure it will make you feel better." She looked at him gratefully. She wasn't sure what about him had done it, but she felt a million times better. "What is it about you, Mister Wood?" Elle asked, a smile finally playing across her lips. He didn't answer. But with a smile now gracing his strong features, he leaned in to kiss her gently on her forehead. "Whatever, happens, it will be alright, because we're together. I won't let anything hurt you again, Elle. Never again." And the two got up, and made their way down to dinner.
"Ow!" she hissed, as she massaged her knee. She started to get up to apologize to the figure. "Sorry," She said, smiling and raking hair out of her startling green eyes, "I didn't see you th." but her smile faltered as she realized the identity of the person standing before her. She saw the steely glint in his eyes, and the evil grin spreading across his face. But before she could even comprehend screaming, a strong hand smashed across her face, and knocked her to oblivion.
Two months earlier
Breakfast in the Great Hall was chaotic as usual. Students everywhere chatting happily, cereal and milk was splattered everywhere. Oliver Wood was sitting at his usual place along the Gryffindor table, His head resting on his hand, playing with his porridge idly with his spoon. A dumb, dazed grin was plastered across his face, and it had been there since last night. Loud sniggering behind him knocked him out of his stupor, and he whirled around to find Fred, George, and Lee all looking at him, their bodies racked with silent laughter. "What's going on?" asked Oliver suspiciously. The twins and Lee stopped laughing immediately, and sat up straight, as if to suggest they'd gained control of themselves. "Thinking about Quiddich, Wood?" asked George in a mock innocent voice, and the three burst out laughing again, not bothering to keep their voices down this time. But Oliver just smiled. He knew they'd probably already heard about him and Eleanor. She was best friends with Alicia Spinnet after all, and had obviously already blabbed the news to her boyfriend - George. But he didn't care what they had to say - as far as he was concerned, he was as happy as he had ever been, even more so than when he was on the Quiddich pitch, the wind in his hair. He hadn't thought it was possible for him to enjoy something more than the best sport in the world, but then, he had thought of a lot of things differently before he met Elle. She had transferred to Hogwarts at the beginning of this year, Wood's seventh and last. She was a year younger than him, but in the same grade. At her previous school, Elle had completed the equivalent of sixth year already, so she was put straight into seventh, even though she was only 16. From the first moment he saw her, Oliver knew there was something about her. They had quickly become friends, but they had both known there was something more between them. His mind usually solely occupied with Quiddich tactics, and the next practice, Wood had discovered something inside him that was reaching out to her, so strongly that neither of them could deny it.
Which is why, last night, they had met up in the Common Room to talk. At about twelve thirty, Eleanor had come down the stairs to find Oliver standing waiting for her. Neither of them said a word as she walked over to him, and he took her hand. Sparkling green stared into deep brown and got helplessly lost. He reached up and stroked her jaw line with his hand. She draped her arms around his neck, and closed the distance between them. Their lips touched sweetly, and he could smell her golden hair. Her scent enveloped his senses as he deepened the kiss, and his arms moved to wrap tightly around her waist. After a moment, he pulled away to whisper huskily "This feels so right." She pulled away and looked up into his face for a second. Her eyes were searching him intently, but he didn't feel uncomfortable under her gaze. "We are meant to be together." She said at last. He hugged her closely to him, and breathed in her scent. Wood was sure she was right. He had never felt anything like this his whole life. They had spent the night on a large comforter in front of the fire, hands entwined, and neither of them feeling the need to break the comfortable silence.
Oliver caught his breath as he caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. Not content with his memories of the night before, he turned to watch Eleanor enter the Great Hall. She walked purposefully towards him, and he studied her beautifully fine features, emerald green eyes, and her shimmering long hair flowing out behind her. She was gorgeous. stunning. And Wood could not believe it was him that she had chosen. Every male head turned as she walked confidently over to where Wood sat, watching jealously as her face broke into an amazing grin at the sight of him. When she reached him, she leaned over to steal a quick kiss, and then proceeded to settle in and eat breakfast. Wood just sat with that dumb grin plastered all over his handsome face, and, not taking his eyes off Elle, started spooning his porridge into his chin.
When she woke up, Eleanor didn't recognize her surroundings. She sat up, and rested on one hand, wincing as she felt her head with the other. She looked around her, confused, unable to determine where she was. The room was dark, with black shadows everywhere. Then, from the furthest corner, came a voice that brought the last moments she remembered flooding back to her. "You are even more beautiful when you're sleeping." Oh my God, Elle thought to herself, horrified. Oh my God. She got up quickly, fighting dizziness, and searched around the dark for an exit. "You can't escape. there's no way. And no one will be able to hear you if you scream." His voice was cold. There was no feeling in it. "Please, you don't want to do this." came Elle's panicked response, as she saw him get up and start walking towards her. He started getting closer, and she backed into a wall. Tears had started to leak out of her eyes as she realized the hopelessness of her situation. "You won't get away with it." She tried to sound strong, but her voice was breaking. He was only a few feet away from her now, and she could see the coldness of his stare. Her whole body shivered, and it was getting increasingly harder to remain on her feet. Her legs seemed to be giving way. "No, Marcus, please don't hurt me." she pleaded as he grasped her wrists in his vice like grip.
Life for Oliver was as he had never imagined possible. He sat with Elle at the back of their Potions class, stealing looks at her every minute or so. They had been together for several weeks, and he knew he was without a doubt falling in love. He loved every tiny thing about her. They way she swept her long hair over one shoulder so she could write down some notes on a complicated healing potion, the way her brow knotted when she didn't understand something, her perfect smile when she noticed him staring.
At the front of the room, Marcus Flint had turned to watch the couple smile at each other. He looked on with hate emitting from every pore on his body. His eyes narrowed maliciously as he pulled out his wand, muttered under his breath, and watched as Eleanor's ink pot exploded, showering everyone with ink, and ruining her work. She looked up, shocked, and caught a glimpse of Flint smiling before Snape, furious, rounded on her. "Detention, Miss Ross." He hissed at her, "and 20 points from Gryffindor for deliberately causing trouble. And I expect a spotless copy of your work at the end of the lesson." Elle stared wordlessly at the professor, but did not dare push any further. Instead, she stared at Marcus Flint, who was now working quietly, but she could tell he was still smiling to himself.
Tears were now streaming down her perfect face, she started to fight against his grip, but was stopped viciously when he slapped her so hard she saw stars. She tasted blood as he stepped closer into her, their bodies now touching, his breath on her neck. Whimpering, she screwed her face up as he forced her hands above her head, and held them there with one hand, leaving the other free. "It makes it more fun for me if you fight" He was so close he only had to whisper. She could feel his arousal against her thigh, and swallowed hard, terrified. With his free hand, he slowly felt his way down her side, causing her to moan dejectedly, and bringing on a fresh set of tears. He brought his hand around and started to squeeze her chest, muttering a spell that bound her hands to the wall, and allowed him free reign. He took a step back, and opened the front of her robes roughly. Elle could hear his heavy breathing as he ripped the heavy material away from her body, leaving her in her blouse and skirt.
Unable to control herself, Eleanor started sobbing heavily, her body heaving. "Please! Oh God! Please don't!" she cried. But Flint just sniggered. Again he slapped her hard across the face, silencing her effectively. "I'm getting tired of your sniveling, Eleanor." He spat, and muttered another spell, causing her hands to be released. Elle crumpled to the floor, curling into a tight ball, her hands around her knees. But he grabbed hold of her hair, and forced her back to her feet. She yelped in pain, and flailed helplessly with her hands, trying to scratch him. "None of that now, sweetness." Flint forced her hands behind her back, and pinned them there, "That's not very lady like of you." "Fuck you, you pig!" She cried at him, kicking out, trying anything to hurt him. But he was to strong for her. She was unwillingly lead over to the middle of the room, where he threw her at his feet. "No, I won't let you!" she sobbed, trying to get up. But he kicked her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and she fell back to the hard stone. He stood over her, and she looked up to see him fumbling with his robes. Her eyes widened with horror as it dawned on her that she wasn't going to get out of this. He leant down and captured her hands again, but she started screaming at the top of her lungs. Unable to gain control or her writhing body, Flint planted a walloping punch square at her face. She went limp in his hands, as blood trickled out of her mouth. But she was just barely conscious. She mumbled dejectedly as the room swam before her eyes. Nothing was in focus. She couldn't even comprehend her blouse being ripped from her body.
After the potions lesson, Oliver waited out in the corridor for Elle. She was being given the details of her detention by Snape. He was leaning against the wall when Marcus Flint swaggered up to him. "What do you want?" Oliver snapped. Every encounter with Flint, both on and off the Quiddich pitch had been a bad experience. They were rivals in every subject. "She's going to be sorry she ever met you, Wood." Every word was dripping with venom. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Oliver asked, but he knew Marcus was just trying to bait him in front of the Professor. And sure enough, Flint walked off without answering. But still, Wood was fazed by the whole thing. He was very protective of Eleanor, even though he knew he should be. But he didn't think Elle minded, and she always seemed so oblivious to all the male attention she got.
Just then, in a blur of golden hair, and black robes, she came sweeping out of the classroom swearing bloody murder. "I tell you! I'm going to scream at him one of these days. All those cracks about me being younger, and immature! I wish he would choke on his bloody potions!" The encounter with Flint was pushed to the back of his mind as he noticed how adorable she was when she was angry. "How much would I give just to see him trip over that bloody cauldron of his.. What are you smiling at?" All her anger ebbed away as Oliver just shook his head, still smiling, and took her hand, leading her up the hallway.
Her head swam with images of Oliver while Flint tore at her remaining clothes. All she felt was pain. Everywhere, her body screamed. When she moaned, he punched her again. Then again. And again. He was getting continuously more excited at her distress. Her attempts at fighting him off didn't even get noticed. Finally, she collapsed, tears streaming down her eyes, and lay still while Flint raped her. All she could think about was Oliver. His face danced in front of her. His gorgeous smile, his earnest brown eyes. Those eyes that she got lost in every time he looked at her. She smiled weakly, and Flint slapped her for it. But she hardly felt it. All the pain was melting together. And her mind was fixed on Wood. "I love you" spat Flint, as he came. But there was nothing but hate in the way he said it. Elle was limp beneath him, her head lolling with each of his thrusts. As he finally got off her, and readjusted his robes, he saw the mess he had created. She was bruised and bleeding, her dark blood mixing with her tears. Elle lay, finally slipping into blissful unconsciousness, torn and beaten on the cold dungeon floor.
The night Eleanor had detention, Wood waited impatiently in the Common Room. He was becoming increasingly agitated as the time ticked by. Midnight came and went, and Oliver started felling uneasy. It shouldn't be taking this long. he thought to himself. But he reasoned with himself that he was just being overprotective again. To make himself feel better, he decided to go down to the dungeons to wait for Elle there. He couldn't stand sitting around doing nothing any longer, and so began the long trek down to the dungeons where Snape held his detentions. He still felt a niggling feeling that something was wrong, and when he came across Elle's book bag and all its contents strewn around one of the darkest corridors, he started panicking. Racing along the hallway, he threw open every classroom door, searching it quickly, and then moving on to the next. He went along the whole corridor, until coming to the last class room. He tried the door, to find it locked. By this time, Wood was terrified of what he was going to find behind the door. "Alohamora" He whispered. And the lock clicked open. After taking a shaky deep breath, Oliver pushed the door open slowly, it hinges squeaking eerily.
The first thing he saw as he entered the shadowy room was a blur of colors. Golden blond swirled into dark red. Blue and purple bruises covered her pale skin, her body lay in the center of the room, and the position is was in left Wood in no doubt of what had happened to her. Sorrow as he had never known burned through his heart as he dropped to his knees beside her exposed figure. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he quickly pulled the nearest article of clothing over to cover her broken body. He wrapped his own robes loosely around her and lifted her head into his lap. "HELP!" he screamed to the darkness. "Somebody! Please Oh God! HELP US!" He bent over to check her breathing, and cried out in relief when he heard her raspy breath. He gathered her into his arms, wincing as he felt the limpness of her battered body, and carried her out of the dis-used class room. Oliver stumbled blindly towards the hospital wing, tears uncontrollable, muttering "Hold on, please.. Hold on!" As he neared the medical center, he started screaming for help at the top of his lungs. Madame Pomfrey appeared in the corridor ahead of him, and rushed towards his as she realized what he was carrying.
As she ushered Oliver into the hospital wing, she told the closest nurse hurriedly to fetch Dumbledore immediately. As the nurse rushed out of the room, Madame Pomfrey gently lay Eleanor on the closest bed, and unwrapped her from Wood's robe. Oliver jumped at her sharp intake of breath. "Oh my!" She breathed. "This poor girl!" "Her name is Eleanor Ross, she is in Seventh year, in Gryffindor. I found her in an old class room down in the dungeons." Wood hurriedly explained. "You better wait outside, Mr. Wood." "No! I want to stay with her!" Yelled Oliver, loosing control. "I think it would be better if you do." came a quiet voice from the doorway. Albus Dumbledore stood there, staring at Elle's broken form. Pain filled every millimeter of his usually sparkling eyes. He was about to comfort Wood when more shouts could be heard coming towards the hospital wing. Two other Slytherin seventh years were running up to the door, carrying a third. Blood was dripping from the third form, and Wood recognized the heavy set face of Marcus Flint. "We think he did it to himself sir." explained one of the seventh year's quickly. And Dumbledore took the limp body from their arms. He lay it down on the bed next to Eleanor, and bent over him. "This boy is dead." He said quietly.
Wood stared blankly, unable to move. He and the two seventh year Slytherins were still standing at the door. He glanced at their stunned faces, they were both in shock. Then he noticed one of them had a bloody piece of paper clenched tightly in his fist. Wood looked from the paper, to the body of Flint, and then to the mess that was his only love. Realization dawned on him suddenly, and he staggered in horror. "It was him!" he shouted to the occupants of the room, "Flint did this to her!" he yelled, pointing towards Eleanor. And he snatched the paper out of the boy's hand. "We found that next to him ." he said softly, as Oliver ripped the paper open.
I'm sorry for what I did to her. I loved her. She didn't love me.
White hot anger welled up inside Oliver as he read over the words again. Then three times. Then four. Dumbledore saw him shaking with rage, and walked over to block his view of Flint. He put both hands on the younger's shoulders, and forced him to look him in the eye. "There is nothing you can do to help this situation now, Master Wood. I'm afraid only Madame Pomfrey has the ability to care for young Eleanor, and it would be best for all if you could please make your way back to your Common Room." "But Professor." "I'm sorry Oliver, but please do as I say. And it would also be helpful if you could keep the details of what has occurred tonight to yourself, until after breakfast tomorrow morning. I will be contacting both students' parents tonight. It's late now son, try to get some sleep."
All Oliver could think about as he stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower was the way he had found Eleanor. Her bloody figure had tattooed itself on his mind, an unrelenting reminder of the torture she had been subjected to. Her beautiful hair stained with red. Her smooth skin bruised and battered. Her robes torn and her body ravaged. Wood could not escape the images dancing before his eyes. He blamed himself for not realizing sooner that something was terribly wrong. Lost in his own thoughts he came around one of the last corners and smashed head-long into Fred and George. With a heavy thud, the three crashed to the ground.
When the twins realized who they had crashed into, George stuttered "Where have you been Wood? We've been looking all over the place for you... why are you walking around the halls at this hour of the night? You look an awful mess! You had us really worried, we thought you'd fallen down the toilet or something!!"
All this came out extremely fast.
Oliver was massaging his head; he had knocked it when he fell. "I ah... I was.... she... oh, God."
He couldn't hold himself together anymore. He broke down in front of the Weasleys, sobbing hard.
"I didn't get there in time..." he cried though his tears."She was already..." But he couldn't string words together anymore. The twins looked at Wood, amazed. They had never seen him like this. Not even when he had taken a serious tumble during a Quiddich match back in fourth year. Even with a broken leg and two broken ribs, he had not been reduced to this blubbering mess. They looked at each other in shock, and then quickly moved to comfort him.
"What's wrong?"
"Did something happen?"
Come on, we didn't hit you THAT hard..."
But all they could get out of him was "Eleanor..." he kept repeating her name over and over again. Instead, they pulled him to his feet, each supporting one side, and practically dragged him back to the Common Room, then up to his dorm. By the time they reached his four poster bed, Oliver had quieted down considerably, but was still not talking. The twins decided not to press him any further, but made sure he was settled in bed before quietly slinking out of the room, trying not to wake the other seventh years, and heading back to the fifth year dorm. They were extremely interested about what could have happened to cause such a violent reaction from Wood, and worried about Eleanor, as they had figured it had something to do with her.
Back at the hospital wing, Eleanor was regaining consciousness. With a small moan, she tried to lift her head to determine her surroundings, but found it impossible with the amount of pain that shot through her like hot knives at the movement. Hearing her stirrings, Madame Pomfrey rushed to Elle's side and started checking her over. Her vision was blurry, and she could not make out the person hovering over her. Then, all of a sudden, Eleanor remembered what had caused her to black out, and she started thrashing against the figure, yelling at the top of her voice. "No! Get away! Get off me!" she cried, as firm hands tried to push her back onto the bed. "It's all right Eleanor, it's all right!" came a soothing motherly voice. Elle hesitated. "It's over now. it's all over" the voice cooed. Concerned brown eyes swam into focus, and Eleanor recognized Madam Pomfrey's worried face. "Oh, thank God." was all she could manage before bursting into tears as the past few hours relived themselves in her mind. Fighting the pain scouring her entire body, she allowed the matron to lower her back into bed, and concentrated with all her might on the soft comforting voice. As she started to calm down, Madam Pomfrey propped up her head, and offered Elle a steaming potion, and, after a wince of distaste at the first sip, reassured her with "just to help you sleep dear, and to stop you from dreaming." With that, Eleanor downed the potion, and lay back to feel sleep crawling over her immediately.
The next morning, Wood could be found sitting at the breakfast table extremely early. He had been unable to sleep a wink all night, and had finally come down to the great hall at about 5 am - before the food was even ready. Oliver found it extremely hard to suppress the images of Eleanor with his eyes open, so it was virtually impossible to see anything else when they were closed. As the students started gradually milling in, with varying degrees of alertness, Wood stayed to himself. Mumbling greetings, and not meeting anyone's eyes. His fellow Gryffindor's noticed his shabby appearance, his knotted brow and his troubled eyes. The more attentive of the group connected his state to the absence of Eleanor, as the two had been practically joined at the hip since they had started seeing each other. But when questioned, Wood just shrugged them off, saying nothing, and withdrawing inside himself even more. Then, just as the hall was reaching its usual state of busyness, the post owls swooped down to deliver the morning's mail. Nothing came for Oliver, but he noticed a small tawny owl circling overhead. He recognized it immediately as Pip, Elle's beloved pet. Enticing it down with a piece of toast, Wood relieved Pip of her letter, and pocketed it, making a mental note to pass it on to Elle, as soon as she was up to it. Just as he was packing up his things, ready to head back up to the Common Room, Wood was approached by Professor McGonagall.
"A word, if you could, please Wood?" She said quietly so as only he could hear, and proceeded to lead him away from the table. "I'm sure you have no doubt as to what this is about." Wood shook his head numbly. "I've just been up at the hospital wing. Dumbledore has filled me in on what happened last night." They were walking very quickly together through the halls, and as she continued, her voice softened. "I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that Miss Ross is much better this morning, thanks to Madame Pomfrey, but she's had to explain everything that happened to her last night to the authorities. She stopped suddenly at the entrance to her office. "I have other duties at the moment Wood, but I was sent to retrieve you. Eleanor has been calling for you." Oliver sprinted from the spot as soon as the words left her mouth, calling a hurried "Thanks" over his shoulder. He didn't slow his pace until he reached the hospital wing.
She was sitting, propped up with pillows, on the bed he had left her in the night before. There were two adults standing next to her bed, and judging by the female's blond hair, Wood deducted they were Eleanor's parents. He hesitated at the doorway, not sure if he should interrupt on this family moment, but the decision was made for him, when Elle caught sight of him in the gap between her parents. Her face broke out into the first real smile her parents had seen since they arrived early this morning, and they turned around to see a tall, well built seventh year, with an expression of extremely concern etched into every corner of his handsome face. But then, a wave of humiliation swept over Elle, as she realized Wood already knew what Flint had forced her to do. She hung her head in shame, fighting back a fresh set of tears, as she wondered if he'd ever look at her the same way again. They had been seeing each other for two months, but had not yet progressed past kissing. Eleanor felt disgusted at her self, and had convinced herself that Oliver would want nothing to do with someone as dirty and Vile as she.
Noting her downcast look, Oliver rushed to Elle's side at once, and gently took her hand in his. The cuts and scrapes had already been magically mended he noticed, and guessed the same was true for the broken bones. However, her beautiful face still showed the many bruises she had obtained during the ordeal, and she winced slightly as she shifted her weight, a single tear gliding down her face. His deep brown eyes bored into her startling green ones, and an unspoken communication seemed to pass through them. Elle's face seemed to relax as she realized she didn't have to worry about his feelings for her. Oliver leaned down slowly, and planted a tender kiss on Eleanor's forehead, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Ahem." The man on the other side of the bed cleared his throat loudly, forcing Oliver's attention away from Elle. Her parents were watching him intently.
"Oh, I'm very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Ross. I'm Oliver Wood." "Yes, we know who you are, Oliver" answered the lady kindly. Her eyes were red and blotchy - Wood could tell she had been crying. "We've been hearing about you just about all year." She extended her hand, which Wood shook politely. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." At his wife's words, Mr. Ross offered his hand as well, but didn't seem to be in the mood for proper introductions. His attention went straight back to his daughter, who had been watching the exchange carefully. "How are you feeling now dear?" he asked gruffly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm feeling much better now, Dad" she replied assuring. And she broke into another amazing smile at the look in Wood's troubled brown eyes. "I think we'll give you two a little time alone." came Mrs. Ross's soft voice, and they walked away, leaving Wood with Elle, both of his hands now capturing hers, talking in quiet undertones.
He spent most of the morning with Eleanor, finally leaving after an irritated Madam Pomfrey insisted Elle get some more sleep, in order for the last of the healing potions to take effect. With one last fleeting glance over his shoulder at Eleanor settling back into bed, and a hurried goodbye to her parents, Wood left the hospital wing and strode back towards the Great Hall, as Lunch was just about to begin. But as he walked through the entrance hall, nearing the double doors, he saw another couple entering the school, accompanied by Dumbledore. The woman was sobbing hysterically, and the man was standing irresolute, his face completely impassive. From the looks of them, Oliver could tell they were Marcus Flint's parents. it seemed Flint had inherited his father's heavy set face, and his mother's hooked nose. Dumbledore was trying to lead the two towards the stairs talking quietly under his breath, but Mr. Flint stopped suddenly, and burst into a rage.
"I simply do NOT believe it!" he shouted at the headmaster. The woman wailed sorrowfully. "There has to be some mistake! I will not tolerate such treachery!" His face was purpling, and spittle was flying from his mouth. "I condemn you for even suggesting he would do something like this to himself."
Dumbledore halted as well, and held up a hand, as if to say stop. He did not raise his voice, but Oliver, who was standing across the room, before the double doors, could hear his precise tone nonetheless.
"Your outrage is understandable, Mr. Flint. However, you didn't let me finish. I also believe there has been foul play here - and although I have no evidence of such, I assure you, I will get to the bottom of this."
Wood listened to the professor's words, and his jaw dropped, horrified. The three were half way up the stairs before he found his feet, and started sprinting towards them, shouting.
"WHAT?!" he yelled, "you can't be serious, professor! You saw what Flint did to Eleanor!"
Dumbledore had turned around as Oliver caught up.
"Yes, Master Wood, I saw. However, what we see isn't always what is really there."
The younger paused for a second, confusion knotting his brow. Then the meaning of the headmaster's words dawned on him.
"You think someone murdered him." he said softly.
Somewhere in the distance, the bell rang, signaling the end of lessons. Students would be milling around in seconds.
"I understand your distress, Oliver, but if you could please leave the matter for the time being, just until more information can be gathered."
Wood nodded his head dejectedly.
"Now, I believe we are having quiche for Lunch today!" said Dumbledore, his tone lightening. "One of my very favorites! Why don't you go tuck in, while I have a word to Marcus's parents in my office?" His tone left nothing to be questioned with, so Wood turned and made his way back to the double doors, his head buzzing with questions. Could it possible that Flint was not the one to attack Elle? Could he have been set up?
Much later that night, Elle awoke in her hospital bed, wondering what had startled her out of slumber. She sat up groggily, thinking it would have to be something extremely loud, considering the amount of sleeping potion Madame Pomfrey had forced on to stop her nightmares. But instead of hearing some earsplitting disturbance, the noise of soft breathing met her ears. Her face broke into a soft smile at the sight of Oliver, hunched over her bed, resting his head on his arms, deep in sleep. She couldn't resist the urge to gently trace her fingers across his forehead, brushing away a few stray strands of hair. Wood smiled in his sleep, forcing Eleanor to suppress her giggles. She couldn't believe that he had risked detention to sneak up to see her again. He practically hadn't left her side the whole time she was awake. The matron was becoming increasingly annoyed with him, having to shoo him out at every break time between lessons. But at long last, tonight was the last night would have to spend within the confines of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had informed her so just before she had gone to sleep. Again Elle felt the need to reach out to the sleeping form in front of her. Wood looked so adorable with his hair all scruffy, and his handsome face relaxed with sleep. She ran her hand through his light brown tresses, marveling at the softness of it, when a strong hand closed over hers. "You are meant to be resting." he said groggily, his voice thick. "And you are meant to be tucked up all the way back at Gryffindor Tower!" she whispered back, smiling down at him. His hand was still holding hers.
"I just needed to make sure you were all right." he explained, the troubled look that had momentarily left his features during sleep came flooding back in full force. He sat up, his gorgeous brown eyes full of worry once again. "How many times do I have to tell you?" Elle scolded, "I'm better. I'm getting out of here tomorrow! I'm even going back to classes. It's been two weeks now. you have to stop worrying about me." Wood just looked at the beauty before him. The bruises had all but vanished, and she was back to her usual, stunning self. Even in the wee hours of the morning she looked amazing, he mused to himself. The troubled look had not left Wood's eyes, as Elle watched him. "What are you thinking?" she asked after a considerable pause. Oliver didn't answer her. He couldn't think of any words to describe what he was feeling that very second. Instead, he gently reached towards her, stroking the side of her jaw. The two leaned towards each other, and their lips met sweetly. Elle locked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He encircled her slim frame, deepening the kiss. Elle was feeling electricity surge through her body, every limb was on fire. She never wanted Wood's strong arms to let go. She never wanted him to leave. She never ever wanted to be without him again. "I love you" she said hoarsely, and they broke apart to get some much needed air. "I will always love you." Oliver pulled back, and studied her emerald green eyes, which were welling up with tears. "You know I love you too." His own eyes were serious. "No matter what. Forever."
The next few days passed extremely quickly. Elle's transition back to classes went smoothly for the most part. Although there were many instances of abuse thrown at her from the Slytherin's, Wood was surprised at how well she re-adjusted. One day not long after she returned from the hospital wing, a small group of Slytherin girls had cornered Eleanor and Oliver down one of the more deserted corridors. "You are a filthy s*lut." Spat one of them. "You never deserved his attention. w*hore." "This is all your fault, t*ramp. You killed Marcus. You were never even worthy of being in the same room as him." "You deserve to die, Eleanor. Die, like he did. all because of you." "You will pay for murdering him, Eleanor. He killed himself because of you. We will make sure of it. You will pay." The insults were coming at her from every direction. Wood was standing next to her, his every fiber bristling with rage. He was about to let it rip on the surrounding girls, but Elle interrupted him. She spoke in a calm, clear voice, looking around at each of the girls in turn. "You must all be very upset. I am sorry for your loss. I hope you can find forgiveness in your hearts like I have. But for now, I pity you deeply." Just as she had suspected, her words caused an explosion of anger from the Slytherins. She had outraged them more by what she had said than she could have with any insult, or by raising her voice. The two walked away from the group, hand in hand. After they had rounded a corner, Wood stopped Elle, placing both hands on her shoulders. "You don't really forgive him do you Elle? You can't have really meant that." She studied his fine features for a moment before replying. "No, I don't. And I won't for a long time. But eventually, I will. I will heal emotionally as well as physically, and forgiveness comes along with that. And anyway. if what you told me Dumbledore thinks about Flint is true. I don't have anything to forgive him for. He was used, and attacked, just like I was. And I know the face that haunts my nightmares is always going to be his, but I will get better. Those girls were just trying to get a violent response from me, and I gave them what they didn't expect. And even though what I said wasn't exactly true at this very moment.. It will be, and that's all that matters." Oliver kept staring at her until long after she finished. Elle was looking at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking. He was in awe of her. Everything about her. "And I thought you were just a pretty face." He said finally, evoking a rare and wonderful laugh, lighting up her beautiful features. She wondered briefly how he was able to keep surprising her, before she grasped his hand tightly in hers, and continued down the corridor, both of them still smiling.
The next morning, during breakfast, Wood and Elle could be found huddled close together on one side of the Gryffindor table. It seemed they were completely oblivious to the hustle and bustle around them, as countless students went about their morning rituals. Eleanor was holding a piece of jam toast poised half way to her mouth, seemingly forgotten. She and Oliver were conversing rapidly, in hushed tones. Onlookers from around the hall smiled inwardly at the sight, and those close enough to hear their quiet voices strained to listen closely. "They are just worried about you, Elle." came Wood's deep whisper. He was holding a piece of parchment, which had just arrived with the morning post. He brandished it in front of her face. "I know, I know! Everyone is worried about me!" she sighed, exasperated. But she couldn't help but smile at the deep brown eyes staring sternly at her. "Can you blame them?" he asked seriously. But his face broke into a grin as she took the letter from her parents out of his hands and replaced it with one of her own. Elle looked up at him cheekily. "Well, they said they would write as soon as they got home, and they have. There's nothing more to it. I've told them a thousand times that I'm ok, and if they don't want to believe me, I'm fine with that. But I'm not dwelling on it for another second!" And with that, she tore the letter to pieces. "But." Oliver started to protest. Try as he might, he could not get Elle to take things more seriously, and he commended her for the way she was taking things, but he feared she was just pushing the pain away. He could see it was still there, buried deep inside her. There were moments where she just stared off into space, a look of pain etched into every corner of her beautiful face, but when he confronted her, she just laughed it off. It was hard to watch her shrug off her problems, when he knew she was tormenting herself about what had happened. Eleanor did not let him object. She planted a quick kiss fair on his lips to stop him from questioning her. Taken aback with her playfulness, Oliver pulled back gently. "I know what you're trying to do." he said sternly, but a smile was gracing his features as he tried to look serious. "And is it working?" Elle asked coyly, leaning in for another sweet kiss. Wood didn't answer, he was content to just sit there being kissed, but a loud voice coming from across the table startled them both out of their stupor. "Ok, this is getting ridiculous!" shouted Angelina. She was looking at them from the other side of the table, her face displaying mock fury. "I think I speak for everyone here, when I say that Elle needs to come with me for some serious Girl-only time!" Angelina was walking around the bench, and practically dragged Eleanor away from an extremely confused Wood, mumbling something about retail therapy. Elle managed a hurried smile over her shoulder as Angelina pulled her into the entrance hall. There, a group of girls were waiting for them. From what she could she, they were all in Gryffindor, and all in either sixth or seventh year. "Ok, Ok.. Explain." started Eleanor. "You saved her!" exclaimed one of the other girls. Elle recognized her as a fellow Gryffindor seventh year, Amy. "We thought she had been lost to the handsome beast forever!" yelled another. It was Erin this time. The girls started laughing and Angelina explained. "Ok, Elle, we know that a lot has happened, and we are glad that you are better, but we can't help but be seriously offended when you spend every waking moment glued to that boy's side, and completely ditch your girlfriends!" "Although it is a really nice side that she is glued to" Gail butted in, which elicited another wave of giggles from the group. Eleanor couldn't help but grin. "So anyway." continued Angelina, giving Gail a stern look, "we have decided to take you on a much needed female only outing. and there just happens to be a Hogsmead trip this weekend, but I'm sure you wouldn't have noticed that, being as. err. preoccupied as you were." The girls laughed heartily again. Elle looked around at the faces of her friends, then back over her shoulder at Wood, who was watching her intently through the open double doors. Fred Weasley was waving his hand in front of Oliver's face. But he didn't seem to notice. He smiled broadly as Elle glanced at him. But she quickly turned back to the girls. "Ok, I guess." she said in mock defeat. And they all started to walk towards the stairs. But Elle stopped very suddenly. She suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over her, and the smile was gone from her face. She looked up at the other girls, panicked, as the room started to spin. Angelina was putting a hand on her shoulder, asking her what was wrong, but she could no longer focus on anything in the room. Putting a hand to her head, she started to sway on the spot, trying force her legs to carry her weight. No longer hearing the other girls shouts of alarm, the blonde girl slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Back at the table, Wood had not taken his eyes off her the whole time she was in the entrance hall. He watched as she suddenly stopped behind the groups of girls, as she stumbled, and put a hand to her head. He jumped to his feet so quickly, he knocked Fred to the ground, who let out a grumbling "Hey!" Without so much as a glance backwards, he flew across the room towards her. Oliver had only covered half the distance to Elle when he saw her crumple to the floor. He sprinted to her side, as the group of girls huddled around her. Other people were coming over to see what was happening. There was soon a substantial group surrounding them. "Elle! Wake up!" he yelled, shaking her gently. He looked up at Angelina. "What happened?" "I don't know," she said hurriedly, "she was fine just a second ago." Wood looked down hopelessly at the girl he loved.
He was standing over her. She could see the hatred in his eyes. There was so much pain. She could not move, he was holding her too tightly. He was on top of her. Then he was inside her. She was screaming. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Why could no one hear her? Why was no one coming?
A soft, worried voice penetrated her mind. She could hear it, faintly calling her. Elle concentrated on that voice, the one that was making the pain go away. Making the screaming fade in her ears. It was getting louder, she could hear Oliver. Oliver was calling her name. He sounded scared. Eleanor wanted to comfort him. But where was he? She felt something cold and hard underneath her. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Why was she on the floor?
Her eyes fluttered open.
"Oh thank God," came Angelina's relieved voice. Elle's vision suddenly cleared, revealing a large group of people surrounding her. Oliver's troubled brown eyes swam in front of her, and she smiled, despite herself. He was leaning over her, holding her hand tightly. "What happened?" she asked quizzically, sitting up slowly. Oliver didn't answer. He seemed too preoccupied with checking her over to worry about what she was saying. "You fainted, Elle." The reply came from Felicity - A Gryffindor sixth year, who was crouching next to her on the other side. Her smile faltered, as she remembered what she had been dreaming about. But she replaced it quickly, as to not alarm anyone. She didn't want people fussing over her again, so she tried to get up. Oliver, however, was not that easily fooled. "I'm taking you to the hospital wing." he said softly, grasping her under her arm, and helping her to her feet. "Oh, don't be silly," she said, smiling broadly, "look at me! I'm absolutely fine!" Her grin seemed to assure most of the people surrounding them, and they started milling away quietly. But Oliver was staring at her with a look that plainly said "no, you're not." "Honestly!" cried Elle, looking at the disbelieving faces of her friends, "I just haven't been eating properly! You guys shouldn't get so worried!" She had started walking towards the stairs again, eliciting new protests from Wood. "Elle, no! You can't do this all the time! You can't just laugh stuff like this off!" But she had already started on her way back to Gryffindor tower. "Really, I'm fine. I have two parents already, I don't need this from you guys." She was smiling as she said it, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice. And with that she turned, and left what was left of the group staring after her. "I'm worried about her." started Wood. "We all are."answered Angelina.
As soon as Elle rounded the first corner, she broke into a run. Unable to control them any longer, tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. When she reached the portrait of the fat lady, she was a complete mess. "My dear!" exclaimed the woman, shocked, "What's the matter?" "Nothing, never mind." shouted Elle, "Shalobshkabob." The portrait swung open at once, hiding a very disgruntled fat lady from view. Eleanor hurried through the common room, which, thankfully, was mostly empty, as most of the students were at the Hogsmead weekend. She dint stop running until she got up to her dorm, magically slamming the door behind her with a wave of her hand. Finally alone, she collapsed on her bed, and sobbed into the pillows. She didn't come out for most of the day.
Wood was sitting in the common room, waiting for her to come back down from her dorm. He sat there patiently, staring at the common room fire, thinking about what had happened. She had only been unconscious for a few seconds, a minute at most, and when she woke up, there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with her. But the way she had come up here and stayed in her room all day clearly proved that she wasn't as alright as she had made out. By the time 4 o'clock came and went, he had decided to go up and bring her down. Dinner would be in a couple of hours, and he didn't want her to miss another meal. He walked slowly up the spiral steps, pausing before her door trying to listen for any movement inside. "Elle?" he called gently. But no one answered, so he pulled out his wand. "Alohamora." Wood muttered, gratefully hearing the lock click open. He pushed the door open slowly, and took a step inside.
She was lying on her four poster bed, with her head resting on her arm. She was looking out the window, but her eyes seemed to be staring into nothing. Wood didn't think she had even noticed he had walked into her room, but when he spoke, she didn't jump. "Eleanor?" he asked quietly. She didn't answer. "Are you ok?" Oliver berated himself in his head. Of course she wasn't alright. He crossed the room to where she was lying, and sat down on the side of the bed. She turned to face him, at last acknowledging his existence. "I'm fine." Elle answered, although her voice sounded anything but. It was shaky, and hollow, masking her pain less than effectively. But her face remained expressionless, and her eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle. Oliver stared into them, wondering how he had not been able to see their shine dimming over the past few weeks. With a jolt of sorrow, he realized she had been alone in her pain, and that he should have been the one to console her, but she had kept it too well hidden. "I know what your thinking." She said softly, as she studied Wood's troubled face. "Your thinking it's your fault. aren't you.?" It wasn't a question. He was starting to speak, but she cut him off. "Oliver. You don't understand. You are what's keeping me sane. You have helped me more than you can ever know since what happened. Without you, I'd be an absolute wreck." "But I haven't!" he cried, exasperated, "You are in so much pain, and all I've done is ignore it!" "No, you haven't." her voice was gentle, "you have comforted me, you just didn't know you were doing it." Wood looked at her, skeptical, but he didn't say anything more. He reached to brush a stand of honey coloured hair out of her eyes. She closed her eyes as he touched her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened this morning?" he asked. Her emerald green eyes opened slowly at his question. She took a deep breath, and then pulled on his arm. She pulled him down towards her, so that he was lying next to her, their faces about 20cm apart. "I truthfully don't know." Elle started. "And that's what terrifies me the most. I keep having these awful nightmares. And they are getting worse. It used to be just the attack, but now there are things that never actually happened. I keep seeing his face." "Flints?" he offered, and she nodded her head slowly. "But it's not him. It looks like him, and it sounds like him, but I know it's someone else. I don't know how I know, I just do. And I know that he's the one that's doing this to me. Giving me the nightmares. Whoever it is, they are still after me. I can feel it." Eleanor finished. She had expected Wood to freak out. To tell her that she was imagining things, that it was all in her head. At the very least, she expected him to panic. But he just lay there, looking at her, searching her face in silence. Then, finally, he spoke. "Are you hungry?" Elle looked at him, shocked, but she recovered enough to answer truthfully.
"Um, yeah, a little." "I came up here to make sure you came down to eat something. So I reckon we should go to dinner, and then head straight to Dumbledore's office. I also think someone is still after you, and I want to talk to the headmaster about what he thinks happened. But for now, I just want you to concentrate on yourself. you need to get some food into you. I'm sure it will make you feel better." She looked at him gratefully. She wasn't sure what about him had done it, but she felt a million times better. "What is it about you, Mister Wood?" Elle asked, a smile finally playing across her lips. He didn't answer. But with a smile now gracing his strong features, he leaned in to kiss her gently on her forehead. "Whatever, happens, it will be alright, because we're together. I won't let anything hurt you again, Elle. Never again." And the two got up, and made their way down to dinner.