Title. evicted
Character. Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood
Prompt. Oliver & Cedric, true friends help you move.
Rating. pg-13 (language & talk of drugs)
Words. 975
Summary. When Oliver is evicted, Cedric helps him move.
evicted
Cedric Diggory was doing nothing of particular importance the day he received a letter by owl from Oliver Wood.
Meet me at our regular pub. I need a drink.
-Oliver
The text was hurried and slanted, parchment practically torn through from the pressure of the quill. Cedric hesitated before replying with a 'yes'. Oliver was his mate, but it also seemed Oliver was angry, judging by the note. He wasn't so sure he wanted to deal with the issues of others that particular day. After mulling it over a few terse minutes, Oliver's owl got impatient for a reply and nipped Cedric's finger. He sent a hearty glare the bird's way before ultimately deciding he'd meet Oliver if only to get this bird out of his flat.
See you there.
-CD
"Awright thir, Cedric?" Oliver greeted him in his Scottish brogue, edge to his voice.
"Let's get a drink, on me," Cedric offered and the men entered the pub, a regular haunt of theirs'. Cedric was somewhat regretting showing up. They took a seat at the bar and Oliver had yet to disclose the source of his poor mood. He was silent, but Cedric felt the hard, negative vibes, noted the tenseness in Oliver's shoulders and the clench in his jaw. Their drinks were ordered and delivered and Oliver was still brooding. Cedric sighed impatiently. "So, what's going on, Wood?"
Oliver took a hearty gulp of his ale. "Ah'm being evicted," he spat. "Mah fucking flat-maite's turnt tae smack and the landlord isnae having it. Doss fucking cunt." Cedric didn't know whether Wood meant his friend or the landlord.
"That's shite," Cedric empathized. "You're welcome to stay at mine if you'd like."
"Nae, it's awright. Ah've ilready foond a plaice. Ah'm jist ootay me box mad," Oliver growled the last bit. "Ah jist wanted tae huv a bevvy wi a mate, ken?"
"Aye," Cedric responded and sipped at his pint of Guinness. After a beat he asked, "Want me to help you move?"
A look passed over Oliver's face as if he hadn't even thought of it. "Aye, catboy, yis a mate ay the highest order. Ah owe ye yin."
"Don't mention it, it's no bother."
. . . .
Two days later, Cedric arrived at Oliver's now ex-flat to pack up his belongings.
"Your flat mate move out already?" Cedric asked after seeing the threadbare state of the living room. There were some cords and a lot of dust balls on the carpet in the corner, dusty gray spider's webs clinging to the walls. There were furniture imprints on the shag carpet as well as stains that Cedric didn't remember being there a few months ago when he'd last visited the place.
"Naw, the radge sold moast ay his belongings fir hits and the like. We'll moastly be packing up mah rim. No much else wis mine roond the plaice."
Cedric nodded and to Oliver's room they went. "Ah sippoase it's awright tae dae magic wi Trevir nae hir an aw. He's yin ay mah muggle mates, likesay - the flat mate." Cedric had met Trevor on a few occasions and knew who he was. He thought to correct Oliver and say, yes, he knew who Trevor was, but decided against it.
"Some mate," Cedris scoffed.
"I guiss he cannae halp it an aw," Oliver commented, sweeping his wand through the air. Items on his dresser began to lift and transport themselves into the correctly labeled boxes. "He's an addict. He's goat proablems."
"You shouldn't make excuses for him, Oliver, even if he's one of your best mates. I know you've been friends with him for years and all, but he just put the both of you up shite creek."
"Jist hissel, really," Oliver mused.
"He chose to put that shite into his system, right? There's no excuse. There was a choice and unfortunately, you have to deal with the consequences of his piss poor actions."
"Aye," Oliver sighed, sounding skeptical.
"Oliver," Cedric said sternly. He'd been observing his friend. He noticed the expressions of guilt flickering across his eyes. "You're a good guy, but don't ask him to move in with you. I know you and you don't want a friend to be homeless. . . . But he got you into this mess. Do you want to be dragged into others? It can only get worse from here."
Oliver sighed through his nose and looked uncomfortable. Objects kept sorting out themselves. With another flick of his wand, drawers opened and the contents packed themselves accordingly. Cedric did the same at the closet and wondered how he could give such a shit about someone who didn't seem to give a shit about anything but junk.
"Ah ken, yir right. . . Ah've jist kent the lad so loang, us being mates since muggle primary school, incase ah wisnae a wizard an aw. Auld habits die haird, eh?" Oliver's face grew slightly pained and a reminiscent look glazed over his eyes. Cedric felt slightly uncomfortable, but managed to brush the feeling off.
"It'll work itself out, mate," he assured Oliver. "Where are you moving anyhow? New flat-mate?"
"Tae London, but ah've noat goatten yin yit. Ah'm traein fir a witch oar wizard - be a right sight easier tae explain mah brumstick. Ah've inly goat a month tae get a good flat-mate though; it's aw the reant ah kin afford oan ma oan."
In the small period of time the two had been in the room, much of Oliver's belongings were packed in roughly half a dozen boxes. With Cedric there, the job had taken half as long as it would have otherwise.
"If you can't find anyone, you can move into my flat for a bit, mate. True friends help you move, mate, not cause you to move," Cedric reminded Oliver as the began to exit and Oliver looked hesitant and worried. Cedric put his hand on the back of Oliver's neck and squeezed it affectionately before patting him on the back and lifting a box.