Disclaimer
All names, places and concepts related to
Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling.
This applies to the entire work.
I have given a rating of M due to Implied Nudity and Adult Themes.
This rating may be increased for later chapters.
There was muffled silence around him, the warm river cradling his skin, closed darkness before his eyes. Oliver floated on that ocean, cool ambience framing his body, cast from the high windows of the prefects' bathroom.
He could almost fool himself now in the light, lie and hide from what he had done. In the foaming wash everything was simple. He would stay here and drift, dreaming of nothing, the blue lake taking from him everything he offered. Those past nights would die like black smoke, remembered for their fury and forgotten for their consequence.
A low noise opened Oliver's eyes, water streaming from him, bringing back sound and site and voice.
"I didn't think anyone would be up here this early."
Oliver looked at them without expression.
"I like the quiet," he said.
"Great minds," smiled Cedric throwing down his towel and stepping slowly into the water.
Oliver watched the sixth year disappear beneath the surface then rise again pushing the dark hair from his eyes.
"I hope you don't mind," said Cedric.
"No," said Oliver shaking his head "I've been here for a while; I was just about to go."
Oliver swam to the side of the pool and pushed himself out, the crystal liquid shining the floor. He began to dry himself before wrapping the white linen tightly around his waist.
"So when are you starting Quidditch training?" asked Cedric moving stilly through the water.
Oliver stopped, turned, and smiled.
"See you later Diggory."
Oliver caught the slightest frown on Cedric's face.
"Yeah, see you."
The brightness of the morning grew as Oliver moved through the castle. Air and sun met with gold, casting no darkness across the emerald lawns. Then Oliver saw them again.
"Wood."
Oliver ignored them pulling on his shirt and moving up the staircase.
The common room opened on the Chasers. They sat quietly, gazing into the amber flames of the hearth.
Something stopped him and Oliver looked at them and wondered. He wondered as the dark floor fell through doubt and clouds if he could ever tell them. Could he bring himself to that point and not turn away. All he could do was open his mouth and whisper it, closed expression falling from him like shadow under moon, hot breath escaping wordless lips. The silence was whole and he wanted it broken. But could Oliver ever tell them.
He looked at Angelina and she smiled, her grey eyes taking him in. What he had done would tear her. For her he knew, for him he guessed, this was the better choice. She was safe and whole.
"Do you want us to wait for you?" Angelina asked.
"No," said Oliver heading toward the staircase "I'll be down later."
The dorm was empty except for Marcus.
"Where is everybody?" asked Oliver.
Marcus sighed.
"Percy said something about the library like it's not the third day of term and Jake and Andrew are off chasing skirt somewhere."
"But it's six thirty in the morning," Oliver laughed.
"Yeah," agreed Marcus "But I guess the early worm catches the bird too."
Oliver went to his bed, sun blazing through the mullioned glass, grey and white lining the distant forest of trees. He took off his shirt dropping it to the floor. Through the haze of new morning Oliver caught again without intent the dark clouds of watchfulness standing as guard and prophet. He turned away without breath or station, broken against the walls of his mind. Marcus was looking at him.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," said Marcus.
Oliver closed his eyes.
"The Dementors, when they're around, what do you see?"
The seventh year's expression changed and he walked across the room. They were feet from each other.
"What do I see?"
Oliver nodded.
"This," said Marcus quietly.
He leant forwards and pressed his lips to Oliver's.
"Always this."