"Goodnight… goodbye…"
OH, his head! Those words! He couldn't get those words out of his head!
Maybe drinking himself into oblivion at the Leaky Cauldron had not been the best idea he had come up with, but Oliver Wood had been sure that it was a foolproof plan; he checked his watch, eight hours ago. What he had been thinking at that moment, he couldn't recall.
What he had been feeling, on the other hand, was still clear and somehow still lingering in his soul.
What feeling, he thought, do you get when you combine panic, helplessness, sadness, a broken heart, pain, and six mugs of Firewhiskey?
Oh, but that was an easy one! Desperation, he noted. He was desperate to be lost in the alcohol.
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
Oliver blinked three times as the words resounded in his mind again, cracking his skull and tearing his heart. He had been desperate to forget those words.
Hence the liquor, he thought dryly.
Slowly his vision became clearer, and he could make out more than just a white light. He took in the polished wooden stool to his left, the bar that was currently forcing him into a sitting position, and a face, not three inches away, looking directly at him.
He blinked three more times. It was Tom, trying to rouse him from his alcohol-induced slumber. He held a vial in his hand and a crooked smile on his face. Tom saw his open eyes and parted his lips to say something.
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
That's all Oliver heard. The words were booming through brain. Surely Tom hadn't said that, and why was he shoving that vial in his face!
Tom obviously saw that Oliver was in no state to comprehend anything. He uncorked the vial and pushed it towards him.
Blink, blink. No, that didn't work either. Oliver just blinked and stared at him like he was a lunatic. Tom stood up, kicked the stool away and moved over to Oliver's left side. He bent back down and poured the clear liquid into Oliver's open mouth.
Once again, he stood up and looked down at the 26-year-old quidditch player. When he saw Oliver coming to, he walked back behind the bar and into his office. Tom never enjoyed morning duty.
Oliver blinked as the potion started to take effect. His headache was disappearing, the light he was seeing faded completely. He could think again. What a relief!
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
No… wait… the words. He could think now! What horror! He would give anything to go back to being hung over. Oliver didn't want to think about those words… who said them… and why.
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
IT WOULDN'T STOP! The last two words she had said to him, before she killed herself, kept replaying over and over!
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
He couldn't have stopped her! Oliver howled with rage as he saw the life draining out of Katie Belle's face.
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
He cried. He couldn't stop. She was gone and he would have to tell everyone. She was dead and he would have to deal with it. He would have to live on with those words forever.
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
Why was the alcohol so damn far away?
"Goodnight… goodbye…"
