32

WES was immediately quick to decide he didn't like the way this other bloke was looking at him the moment the old Russian bitch left Jameson's hospital room, slamming the door behind her in her wake.

He was a handsome chap, this man, and he briefly wondered how it was Norah knew him.

He swallowed nervously as he looked into the stranger's eyes, his nostrils flaring in agitation.

He thought it strange that this man smelled of old parchment paper and biscuits.

He grimaced, guessing it was better than the old witch's scent of blood and death that lingered in her pink aura.

Wes could briefly tell by one brief fleeting glance towards Norah as she propped herself up on the hospital bed that she'd smelt it too, by the way that she crinkled her nose in ire.

"Why are you here?" the dark-haired stranger snarled, looking towards Wes in a way that sent a tremor down his spine, as the werewolf looked pleadingly at Norah for help.

The edges of the scarred man's lips curled upwards as his icy-blue gaze flitted away from Norah's pink, flushed face and towards Wes as he rose from his perch at the edge of his bed.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want, kid?" he growled in a terrifying voice that sounded hoarse and hard.

"Ollie, don't, this—this isn't necessary," Norah started to plead with her new partner as the man stalked towards Wes, who was rapidly retreating away from the much taller man, only to succeed in backing himself into a literal corner.

He closed off the gap of space between himself and Wes in two quick strides, his speed and agility were astounding.

Though Norah had seen that for herself when the man had practically threatened Umbridge, expelling her from her hospital room, and then last night with Rookwood.

But before the young blonde werewolf could scramble her way out of the bedsheets and rush to intervene, not liking the darkening look of anger in Wes or Ollie's eyes right now, she had virtually no chance to react as Ollie stood up straight to his full height of around 6'2 or even 6'3.

Almost as tall as Wes, though Wes was a good head or two shorter than him, she thought Ollie more intimidating.

Norah cringed, squeezing her eyes shut as Wes opened his mouth to speak, his voice low and hoarse.

"E—easy, guy, I—I'm here as your friend. I'm Norah's—" But whatever he'd been about to say, Ollie cut him off.

"You're no friend of mine, kid," Ollie snarled in a low voice. "Get. Out. Do I need to say it again a second time? I really hate saying things a second time." His hands had balled into fists, shaking at his sides.

He was hardly aware that Norah had practically flung herself out of her bed and was tugging on the sleeve of his black woolen sweater, but Wes caught his friend's gaze and fixed the she-wolf with a pointed glower, forcing his eyes to flash just a hint of gold.

Wes almost smiled at his little achievement of feeling this new stranger give a start upon seeing his irises change color. It always worked every time to unsettle the humans.

Don't, Wes mouthed, his strong, angular jaw locking tightly in his growing anger, his darkened eyes flashing as they flitted colors, flitting from dark to his wolfish hue of gold as a muscle in his jaw gave a twitch as the werewolf turned his attention back to Ollie, whose hand had wound tightly around the column of Wes's throat and squeezed.

Hard. Wes watched in awe and astonishment as the older man's light sky-blue eyes darkened, almost cerulean in color as he let out a deep, rumbling growl from within his broad chest.

His first thought was, he'd have made an excellent wolf, but he didn't look as though he was marked. Norah clearly hadn't made a move on this one, and Wes could see why, he thought meanly. The dark-haired bloke was every bit a bastard to him right now.

"Ollie, please," Norah whispered in a raspy voice, wincing at how much it hurt her to talk, her free hand not wound into a vice grip on the material of Ollie's sweater trying to tug him back, came to rest on the column of her throat.

Norah let out a tiny, wolfish whimper of fear and didn't cease in her efforts to pull the Legilimens off the werewolf, and this time, Ollie, damn him, didn't restrain himself.

"What are you doing here, little wolf? Come to spy on my partner, is that it? You have one minute to tell me why you're here, dog," he growled, his words leaving his lips as pure poison as her partner curled his hand into a fist as he slammed it into the wall, just beside Wes's right earlobe and would have almost broken the man's jaw had Wes not ducked at the exact moment.

Norah let out a low growl of frustration intermingled with her surging panic at the sudden violent reaction that was a severe contradiction almost to the gentle nature she'd seen Brennan exhibit earlier when it was just the two of them alone in this room.

Norah had to lift her head slightly to look at her new partner in the man's pale blue orbs, thinking right now, he was looking anything but kind.

His wide eyes reflected everything in the hospital room of St. Mungo's, yet saw nothing at all. Behind the man's darkening blue eyes, almost a cerulean shade now, Norah swore she heard the low rumbling of a threatening growl escape his chest.

There was something more intense than normal thought behind Ollie Brennan's eyes, and his clenched jaw and two-day stubble that dusted his chin wasn't a good sign.

Norah hadn't been expecting Wes to drop by to see her, though the fact that the other wolf had known where to find her was…deconcentrating.

"H—how'd you find me, Wes?" she whispered, lowering her voice, softer than silk.

It did not escape her attention how Ollie practically bristled upon hearing the tender way she spoke her best friend's name, though she forced herself to ignore it now.

Wes shot her a pointed look, as though he couldn't believe the question that had just come out of his friend's mouth.

His face drained of color as he swallowed down hard, trying to ignore the black swirling mists clouding at the edge of his vision, though it was increasingly difficult as the raven-haired man with the unfailingly cold icy stare was only increasing the pressure of his hand around his throat.

"I picked up your trail a few miles ago and followed it. Smell, Nor," he gasped hoarsely. "I—I could…follow your scent across time itself, Jameson."

Wes looked like he would have said more, though whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a violent coughing fit as the pressure around his throat increased.

Norah startled, her eyes widening the moment she heard Ollie let out a snarling, savage growl through gritted teeth, though she couldn't help but feeling the warm fluttery feeling in her heart. Wes's words were sheer poetry.

No one had ever spoken to her like that before, but it was, unfortunately for Wes, the wrong thing to say.

Norah flinched as a muscle in Ollie's jaw tightened. Judging by the look of smoldering, fathomless rage in Ollie's blue, burning bright with anger, it was quickly becoming no secret that her new partner in the Order of the Phoenix was rapidly developing a strong dislike for her best friend, perhaps even an unbridled, raw hatred of him.

Norah quickly gave her head a curt shake, hoping there would be time enough to address that later.

Right now, she needed to get Wes out of here, and away from Ollie as quickly as possible, before her partner accidentally hurt him in his anger, or even worse, strangled Wes to death.

She had a feeling Wes's little impromptu visit had to do with her father, as the cold feeling of dread went up and down her spine as she met Wes's light hazel eyes, looking beyond angered at what her partner was doing to him now.

His irises were changing to gold without almost any prompting on his part as he embraced the wolf within him.

She had the ability, as all werewolves did, to express their anger through their irises changing to gold, but Norah tried to reserve the ability for when she was feeling especially ticked, though Ollie's behavior was testing her limits now.

Norah was briefly tempted to do it too, though fought against the urge, focusing her attention back on her friend.

Wes, Merlin bless the man, was struggling under Ollie's grip as her partner slammed him violently against the wall. The werewolf was looking like he wanted nothing more than to dig the incisors of his own fangs into Brennan's neck.

Norah couldn't let that happen, but nor could she blame Wes for how he was feeling. She herself was sorely tempted if it was the only way to calm Ollie down, but the last thing she wanted was to fight. Not right now.

Not after the two of them had worked hard to make amends. The best that she could hope for from Ollie right now was not outright forgiveness, but the beginnings of a tentative understanding, a reconciliation between her and Ollie.

But right now, however, she just prayed that Ollie would let Wes go and let him leave without giving Ollie a reason to hate her even more. But she knew as she looked into her partner's crystalline blue eyes burning with rage, those bewitching irises of his holding total anger and betrayal, of her, it hurt her. Her chest physically ached.

The way Ollie's blue eyes squinted as Norah ducked underneath his outstretched arm and in between the feuding werewolf and Legilimens in an attempt to get her partner to calm the hell down before he killed her friend.

She swallowed nervously as she met his gaze. A burning, fiery animosity was developing in Brennan's eyes, and Norah was sure that she was the root cause of his issues.

But he didn't get it. Wes was her friend. Nothing more, nothing less, and if judging by the furious look in the man's eyes, Norah was about to find herself and Wes in a spot of trouble she wasn't sure she could talk her way out of again.

Very. Deep. Trouble.

A burning rage hit Ollie so hard he had no time to react.

Ollie hadn't anticipated the burning rage at the idea of this other werewolf sauntering into Norah's room uninvited and unwanted, and unannounced. In fact, he thought he hated it. He growled in frustration and bared his teeth, thinking that never before did another man's name sound like such a putrid curse. This other werewolf had intentions towards his partner, he saw it in the dog's golden eyes. Why else was he here, then? Ollie was quick to react and decide he'd protect Norah from further harm. This one couldn't be trusted.

He'd smelled his partner, followed her scent halfway across London itself, just to see Norah.

It vexed him. And what made this situation even worse and more awkward, Ollie thought, was how the disgusting male werewolf's name sounded on her lips. They were…friends. They were familiar with one another.

How close? He wondered, grinding his molars together in agitation, stifling another low rumbling growl from deep in his chest.

So full of worry and anguish over this dog's well-being. Norah had spoken the wolf's name with such worry and yet an insatiable curiosity as to what Ollie was going to do to him that Ollie couldn't help but feel his blood boil.

He had been warned by Father growing up to stay away from werewolves, especially the females. Seductresses, savages bitches, the lot of them, he's said. And yet, so far in Norah's company, he couldn't sense any maliciousness, no tricks, no deception, no lies.

Except for who's hunting her. Jameson's still keeping that a secret from you, a dark demonic voice in the dark corners of the furthest recesses of his mind chimed up unhelpfully, though he had no time to mull it over as the other wolf, Wes, even his name sounded stupid, Ollie thought meanly, as he laid a hand on Norah's arm.

Though Norah ignored it and instead planted her feet firmly on the ground, digging the heels of her boots into the floor and fixed her attention solely on Ollie now.

He did not appreciate the subtle glances exchanged between the two werewolves. It sent a fiery warmth through the churning pit of his stomach and suddenly, he felt like he was going to be physically sick to his stomach. Ollie was pulled from his dark vortex of wicked thoughts when he heard Norah's soft voice cut through his haze of anger like a knife, her own voice firm and hard.

"Ollie. That's enough," Norah snarled. Ollie lowered his gaze slightly and looked down his nose at the blonde witch, startled as her own eyes rapidly changed to gold before flitting back to their usual hue of bright sky-blue.

Her tone was clipped and sounding on the verge of almost being angry with him, and he decided he hated it.

"Please. You—you have to trust me. As your partner, I'm asking you right now if you can trust me. Wes is my bestfriend, Ollie. Nothing more, and nothing less than that," Norah pleaded, imploring him to see reason as she stuck out her bottom lip in a slight pout, but her voice sounded strangely flat and distant now as if underwater and all Ollie could focus on was this captivating young blonde witch, this celestial-like creature, his partner in the Order, so close to this—this…wanker.

Normally, he didn't hold such a discriminatory position against people afflicted with Lupin and Jameson's condition, but he wasn't about to tolerate this wolf looking at his partner in what he thought was an odious, vile way. The only thing he could manage to focus on was the slightly wild, unhinged look in the other wolf's golden irises, the almost hungered look of lust gleaming within.

The anger churning within his veins burned so bad, it felt like fire coursing through his bloodstream, igniting it.

"Why did you come here?" Ollie barked in a low, hoarse growl. "And don't even think of lying to me," he warned threateningly, baring his teeth, growling at Wes.

"Ollie, stop!" Norah snapped, her voice raised. She wasn't quite shouting at him, but nor was she being timid at expressing just how much this was angering her now. He watched in shock and surprise as the young blonde werewolf stomped her foot, a temporary release of frustration, and stepped towards him, shoving his chest, hard and strong, surprising for one so small as she was. "Stop!" she shouted, finally losing the last of her patience as she remained unmoved from in front of the wolf.

Norah sounded more tired than angry; not surprisingly, considering it looked like his partner hadn't slept for two days, and still felt a lingering trail of guilt about that first night of the ordeal, how she'd yelled at him. "This is enough, Ollie," Norah challenged, her bright blue eyes hard. "Wes has done nothing wrong to warrant this behavior from you. Back the hell off. Now."

Ollie looked at his partner in complete bewilderment, relinquishing his grip on the werewolf's throat, though not before shooting the younger man a truly scathing look that, was Wes not so pissed, would have made him flinch, his features clearly marred with anger.

Norah shot him a pleading look, her blue eyes brimming with unshed tears as she shook her head in disgust, biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed.

"I need you to trust me, Brennan. I'm your partner, aren't I? You need to believe me when I tell you there's nothing there between Wes and me. I'm telling you the truth." Her eyes flickered to gold and narrowed to mere slits. "I'm not going to let you hurt Wes, Ollie. I won't." Briefly, Norah's gaze flitted towards Wes's, whose attention was momentarily preoccupied as he turned his head to the side to cough, gasping for much-needed air as his burning lungs took in what precious air they could.

Ollie growled out in anger as he made another move towards Wes, who was sidestepping his way towards the door, looking like the wolf had regretted coming at all.

It wasn't until Norah firmly dug the heels of her black boots firmly into the ground and let out a low, threatening little wolfish growl of her own, baring her teeth, that her new partner ceased his efforts to attack him.

"I'm going back to Headquarters to give the others an update, Norah, and I expect your friend here to be gone by the time that I get back," he growled in a low voice and made to turn away.

Though before he could, he was halted in his movements when Norah's arm flung out in front of him and she caught him by his forearm, her nails digging into the material of his thick black turtleneck sweater, preventing him from taking one more step to the exit.

"Wait," she pleaded, an imploring note to her voice as her previously hardened tone lost the worst of her anger.

Norah bit down on her lip, glancing hesitantly at Ollie's hand, hovering dangerously close to hers.

In a moment of wanting to clear the air between them, as much as to do something to calm him down before things could escalate even worse than that, she grabbed his hand and gave it a light, gentle squeeze. She winced as he flinched.

Norah swallowed hard as she lifted his gaze, and something a flicker of something unreadable dart through his brilliant blue eyes. He was looking shocked at the simple concept that she was holding onto his hand, though in truth, she herself was the one feeling most flustered. She was sure of it.

Norah felt her breaths catch in her throat as she met Ollie's gaze, drowning in the deep sea of crystalline blue, amazed at the depths in the man's eyes.

"You…you're not afraid to hold a werewolf's hand?" Norah asked softly, suddenly not sure if she wanted his answer, noticing how the man was staring down at their hands now intertwined as though he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful in his entire life. "You're not, are you?"

Ollie felt his cheeks flush high with color, though he let out an audible snort through his nose and almost rolled his eyes. "No. In fact, Norah, I'm a little bit offended that a werewolf hasn't been taught that it's rude not to accept a handhold when one is offered, particularly from a beautiful young witch like you," he replied mockingly, raising his eyebrows.

She smiled nervously and still held onto his hand, though Ollie couldn't quite shake the feeling of the split-second her skin had touched his to prevent him from leaving, Ollie felt it. An invisible, tiny golden string connecting the two of them. His heart rate quickened in his throat, thrumming so erratically he thought that it would burst. He briefly wondered if Norah had felt it too now.

The slightly relieved look on her peaky face told him that perhaps she had sensed it, though she was more concerned at the moment with checking on the other wolf, and he was more than a little pleased to discover the feeling that Remus and Dora had described to him all those months ago, when he'd come to his best mate in a dark moment of need, wondering if he would ever find someone.

Tonks had said he would feel it. And he had. He blinked owlishly down at their interlocked hands, noticing Jameson hadn't yet let go, for which he was secretly glad.

The moment her fingers intertwined with his, almost a perfect fit, like puzzle pieces, Ollie felt strangely apathetic with all of the hurt surrounding his father's death that had been plaguing him, and the truly godawful start he and his own partner had gotten off to just the other night.

Norah exhaled a sigh of relief, briefly catching Wes's gaze and silently pleading the man to stay with hers.

The other wolf shot her a rueful, admonishing look as his golden irises flitted towards Ollie, his hackles raised in distrust, though he inclined his head, saying he would.

Norah nodded, turning her attention back to her partner, breathing in slow. In and out. Repeat a few more times until she felt her heart in her chest come off its high.

It didn't feel like she was going to throw up or pass out anymore, so that was a relief at least.

It was clear by the look in Brennan's eyes that he needed her support right now, despite the whirling dervish of emotions raging in her mind right now as the wolf within her head growled its rage, not wanting to let Ollie get away with what he'd done.

But, as the man lifted his chin slightly, jutting it out slightly defiantly to meet her gaze, and she sensed the hot shame and remorse on his face, the worst of her anger dissipated, sliding off of her like Stinksap.

She sighed, gingerly removing her hand from Ollie's grasp, strangely missing the instantaneous heat the man's hand gave off and waited to say anything to give the man time to collect his thoughts.

Ollie bit down hard on his tongue as his jaw clenched and his teeth dug on the wall of his mouth again.

The Legilimens and former Slytherin let out a quick and dense breath aggravated with tension still, as his overwhelmed mind was no doubt still angry over Wes's unexpected arrival into her hospital room so shortly after Umbridge and then old Baba Yaga leaving in such a huff.

Norah shuddered at the idea the old Russian witch, the legend that made most Slavic people uncomfortable, had, well, Ollie as a grandson. She could hardly fathom it.

Ollie looked at Norah, overwhelmed with a sense of crushing extreme guilt and regret.

He'd treated Norah's…friend so rudely, threatening the werewolf, almost going so far as to choke the very air from his lungs.

He owed Norah and this other wolf an apology, though he couldn't still quite shake the feeling this new man was something of a threat, just another bastard, he forced himself to shove aside his feelings of distrust for the accursed savage—No!

Ollie gritted his teeth and gave his head a violent shake to rid his reeling mind of such a poison thought. Jameson was a wolf too and he wasn't calling her all these different hateful insults.

Frowning, Ollie looked over at the trembling other werewolf, the male. Wes, who still had shifted his irises back to their normal hazel hue, his entire body shaking in fear and rage. His brows were furrowed and his eyes wide.

The two men remained silent, as did Norah, as Ollie's sharp eyes looked over Norah's best friend standing behind her. A bruise was forming on the younger man's cheek where Ollie had hit him.

His arms, though they were covered by his long-sleeved shirt, were more likely covered in bruises as well from having been grabbed so harshly by Ollie's rough, calloused hands and shoved so violently against the wall.

And as Ollie looked towards Norah, he felt even more guilty. He'd never have been so violent with her. His pupils dilated as he'd realized what he'd done.

He focused his attention back towards Norah's friend, to Wes, who still staring up at him with those unhinging, wolfish golden eyes of his, though no amount of the wolf changing the color of his irises could mask the fear within.

But he remained still and lifeless as a statue, waiting to see what Ollie would do. Ollie didn't how the hell he was going to fix this. He wished Tonks were here with him. She'd know what to do in order to make amends.

Wes and Norah might not be able to forgive his actions, but that didn't mean Ollie couldn't do the difficult thing here and apologize.

In fact, even if Norah never forgave him, Ollie knew he still had to apologize. He didn't think he could live with himself if he didn't.

Wes reached out and offered his hand towards the lanky werewolf, who flinched away with a low, wolfish growl and a gasp as he brought his hands over his face, shielding himself from a potential strike from Norah and began blubbering out an excuse.

"Norah, I—I shouldn't have come here, I—I can see that you're…well looked after. I—I just remembered that I uh, I left my…cat on the stove, so I really should be—"

"Wolf!" Ollie interrupted him, flinching at the hurt and angry look that darted through Norah's eyes. He winced and immediately stammered, trying to correct himself. "Wes,' he murmured in a lower voice, hoping his voice sounded calm. "I—I'm sorry. I hurt you. I'm sorry."

He had…Merlin, he'd almost injured Norah's best friend, and for what? Because of his uncontrollable anger?

Ollie didn't have time to linger on the strange, foreign feeling of possessiveness and hot fire-seeds of anger welling in his chest that he felt when Norah was around another man, but she was the one suffering now.

He watched, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his churning stomach as Norah turned away from him to whisper something into her friend's ear and nodded.

Shooting one last slightly distrustful look Ollie's way, he let out a sigh. "I'll…be outside if you need me."

He had—oh, God, he had almost injured one of Norah's best friends, and for what?

Because he didn't like the pleading looks Norah was shooting this other werewolf?

Ollie felt like he didn't have time to linger on the strange, foreign feeling of possessiveness that he felt whenever Norah was around other men, for she was the one suffering.

He visibly winced at seeing the hallowing in the woman's face. The darkening circles underneath both eyes. Cold sweat was forming on her browbone, glistening on her gaunt features.

Her eyes sunken in and slightly sallow skin, Norah was not looking good at all, and Ollie's guilt intensified, knowing the stress her body was undergoing, which was direct causation of his actions towards Wes a few moments ago.

All your fault, the snakelike voice hissed into the shell of his ear, whispering it over and over again.

She'd no doubt did not have a decent night's sleep in who knows when, and Ollie's guilt sat heavily on his shoulders, and he knew that he could not un-do tonight what had been done.

The best that Ollie could hope for was that Wes would forgive him.

Ollie growled in irritation and shoved aside thoughts of him for now.

Norah was the one who needed him to be strong, for she was experiencing pain, and all he wanted to do was shove aside thoughts of Wes for now and think of how to keep his partner from hurting even more.

Though he didn't know-how. He watched in silence, too stunned for words as Norah walked towards him.

Maybe there was nothing there, and he would completely understand her reasoning if she no longer desired him as her friend after he'd behaved, but…

And then he blinked as she held out her arms and did not hesitate to envelop him in her arms, taking him completely by surprise and catching him off-guard.

The hug was a simple-enough gesture—affection laced within, perhaps even the beginnings of a tentative understanding between the two of them, he knew.

Though what Ollie did not know at the time, nor did Norah, was that it was the beginnings of something much stronger, as this was the solidifying moment that their bond became as hot as molten lava, hard and unbreakable as stone when Norah did not condemn or yell at him for his behavior.

The arms that held him about his middle were soft and yet strong. The feel of Norah's body and the heat she seemed to radiate, so close to his own, soothed Ollie all the more, more so than he had expected.

Automatically, Ollie felt his arms fold about her shoulders, and rested his chin on top of the young woman's blonde hair, allowing the scent of honeysuckle and pinewood and autumn to calm him.

Gingerly, as if handling the most delicate of china, Ollie lifted his hand as it somehow found its way to the back of her hair and entangled his fingers in her hair, allowing them to drift comfortingly through the rest of her short hair.

"Norah?" He winced at how uncertain and cracked her name sounded coming from him in his current emotional state of distress over her and Wes.

Ollie furrowed his brows into a slight frown as he promptly lowered his hand, and it came to rest at but not on her waist just in case she felt faint or sick.

But even more so than that, he was surprised at how both of her hands curled into tight fists over his arms, as though she were the one clinging to him as if she believed he would somehow vanish right before her very eyes right now.

"It's all right, Ollie. I—I don't blame you for what happened, but I—I need you to trustme. Wes and I are just friends."

Disbelief and worry wrought within her tones, and yet, as she regarded her partner in silence, the faintest ghost of a smile crossed her beautiful features, and her bright sky-blue inquisitive eyes almost seemed to crinkle and brighten with pure light.

It felt as though several moments passed that felt like an eternity to him. Ollie was internally relieved that his new friend did not relinquish her grip on him, for he did not want to let this celestial creature within his grasp go. Ever.

The little world confined in the cold room seemed to distort and melt away as Ollie lowered his chin slightly to meet Norah's gaze.

In those silent seconds, an unspoken feeling passed between the two of them, a private moment.

What it was, Ollie did not know, and he didn't even claim to understand it, but perhaps Tonks would know what it was later if he was of a sound mind to ask her later. He could not even remember what he had almost done.

What had he almost done? And then, as his gaze briefly drifted towards the now-closed door, he remembered, and it hit him like he'd been hit square in the chest with a spell. Ollie winced and cast a furtive, guilty look back towards Norah as his memory came back to him, and immediately wished that he had not looked.

The abject horror he had felt at seeing another man so close to Jameson. And then rage. Hot, fiery scalding rage hotter than any dragon flame as it burned through his veins, like nothing else he'd ever felt before.

Not even the distant relative of Greyback's he'd killed in the Department of Mysteries all those months ago to save Tonks and Lupin's lives had invoked this sense of anger. It seemed it had hurt worse when it was a man whom he considered above all else his last remaining friend.

To his utter horror, Ollie realized that he had welcomed this anger into his heart, and he felt that damned stubborn corded muscle within his chest practically drop into the pit of his churning stomach, and he tasted acidic bile.

What had he almost done?! He'd almost killed her friend just now with his anger.

"Oh, Merlin…I—I almost killed that man, Norah. I—I can't…" He cried, turning away from Norah, and raking his fingers through his thick tuft of short jet-black hair. "What have I done?!" he yelled, not giving a damn if the St. Mungo's staff heard.

"Shhh," Norah murmured lowly in what she hoped was a soothing and reassuring tone. Still, the young blonde-haired werewolf did not relinquish her grip on his arm, and Ollie could feel the woman move and match his movements.

Her fingers tightened on the back of his sweater for support, her one good hand not bound in its sling drifted upwards and found its way to the back of his black hair and she absently smoothed down a stray fly away.

Ollie could not repress the slight tremor that had nothing to do with the cool temperature of this room as it traveled down his back as she raked her fingers through his coarse black hair.

"It's all right, Ollie," she murmured. "Wes already forgives you. I saw it in his eyes. You—you didn't mean it. You—you were reacting out of anger for my well-being."

"Norah?" Ollie's quiet, reserved voice sounded much rougher and coarser than before, and more than a little slightly put off, Norah was inclined to believe, though she had no time to question it as she quickly turned her head.

She sniffed once and flicked back the one and only tear as it traveled down her cheek, for her friend did not need to see her cry yet again if she could help it.

"Yes?" Norah whispered, hating hearing how her voice lowered an octave.

"I…" Ollie's voice broke as it faltered, and he hesitated in his resolve as if he did not know exactly how to phrase whatever it was that he wanted to say to her. "I…I am so sorry. I never meant to—for any of this to happen, I…" Ollie's soft tones came out as broken and distraught, and his strong arms tightened around the young woman.

Norah let out a muffled squeak of surprise as suddenly, her head was nestled underneath his chin as he hugged her. Norah furrowed her brows and resisted the urge to let out a groan of frustration.

Again, he blamed himself and was now trying to apologize to her. Again. But why?! Why did everything within the last few hours suddenly revolve around hurt feelings, anger, and apologies? What on Merlin's green earth could Ollie have done that warranted the amount of hurt and anguish that surged through his tones, for Norah knew he had done nothing wrong just now.

Norah emanated a tense exhale through her nose and albeit reluctantly pulled apart and stepped back slightly to study Ollie's pale, incredibly hurt face.

"I forgive you," she whispered, speaking the words she knew Ollie needed to hear. "I'm sorry too, Ollie. I really am. Let's…let's just try to put it behind us. Perhaps we both apologize for the way that we acted towards one another and move forward with our relationship?" Norah bit her bottom lip and stuck it out in a slight pout. "Since I guess Headquarters is going to be my home now, don't you think we owe it to one another if we're going to see each other on a regular basis to try to get along, Ollie? No more jealous outbursts. If I'm going to be in your life, Wes is my friend. You'll have to get used to him being around from time to time, Ollie," she asked, a note of hope in her voice as she pulled back slightly and still bit down on her bottom lip as she tried to gauge Ollie reaction.

Ollie could feel his pale blue eyes widen in shock and awe and he could not help the shock that crept its way into his tone as his question passed his lips. "Wh—what? Why are you sorry? There's nothing to be sorry for." Now it was Norah's turn to look incredibly confused because her expression changed from one of morose to one of immense astonishment.

"Why? What do you mean, 'what for?'" she scowled, biting the wall of her cheek. "Because I've been angry with you." Here, Norah's voice trailed off and she looked away for a moment to compose herself. "That everything that's happened to me in the last few days happened so quickly…and... I really do like you. I like you, Brennan, and I did not take your feelings into account, Ollie. I'm sorry."

Ollie nodded, though he was lost. He was the one who had not listened to her and had almost injured that soldier over a horrible misunderstanding. Ollie could only watch as Norah gave a soft sigh of exasperation and carded her fingers through her shaggy short blonde hair. Ollie watched as his partner began to nervously fidget with her fingers.

He had clearly noticed Norah's dilemma, for he spoke once again, but this time, his tone was more certain, and much clearer and more articulate than before.

"I—I would like that. To…to put the last few hours behind us, Norah."

Norah offered a curt nod, signaling that she understood and respected his needs.

"I meant what I said," she began cautiously, untangling her fingers from her hair and offering him a shy, small half-smile that made his heart flutter. "That you and I both apologize for the way we acted and move forward? I—I want our partnership in the Order of the Phoenix to get on the right foot with one another, you, and me. Could we try again, Ollie? We have to if this is going to work if Headquarters is going to be my home. I—'d like to see you and I get along if you'll have me," she asked, unable to disguise the note of hope in her voice and she glanced down and realized he had entwined his hand in hers without her noticing it, but she made no move to pull away. It felt…strangely nice.

"Try again?" Ollie repeated, as though he had misheard Norah's words, stepping forward gingerly as he reached up the hand not currently offering his partner support so swipe his black bangs off his forehead. "Even after...that," he said, a pained look in his eyes as his gaze flitted to Norah nervously. "You are still willing to forgive me because you want to..." His voice trailed off, and he looked away, biting his tongue. "Are you sure you want this? Can we start again? You and me? Can I get to know you, Jameson?"

Norah playfully scrunched her nose at her new friend in jest and rolled her eyes as Ollie carefully opened the door to his tower.

"Please don't call me that," she sighed in exasperation. "If you must call me by my first name, then please…call me Norah. Only if you want, Ollie," she groaned.

Ollie grinned, and it sent an unexpected spiral of warmth throughout her entire system, and Norah decided that she liked it, this heat emanating in her chest.

"I'd like that. But…only one condition. You allow me to make it up to you, Norah," he said, lowering his voice so that it was almost husky.

When Norah merely proceeded to raise her eyebrows at the man, he took that as a sign that he at least had caught her attention, and, for the briefest moment, wishing he'd been sorted into Gryffindor House when he was a boy and summoned every ounce of courage within him to ask the question that he hoped she'd say yes to.

"How?" Norah asked, raising her brows in alarm.

Ollie blew out a deep breath before continuing, wishing to Merlin and God he'd been a Gryffindor. He could use a little bit of that fearless courage right about now.

"You could let me take you to dinner?" he asked hopefully.

She shivered at the way it sounded, though it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, though it did leave Norah feeling quite confused and warm.

Norah blinked owlishly at her partner, feeling certain she had misheard the man's words.

Had he just…had he really just invited her to dinner? Norah blinked a couple of times before giving her head a curt shake to clear her mind and give the man an answer before the Legilimens decided to change his mind.

"I…I…I'd like that, but… why would you want to do that?" Norah asked as she allowed herself to be guided gingerly back to her bed to rest for a while and visit with Wes while Ollie went back to Headquarters to give an update.

Norah heard herself speak the words, and she believed she really did sound quite dim, and she bit the inside wall of her cheek, cursing herself for being so stupid.

It had not been her intention at all to come across as rather dim-witted.

It was when Ollie allowed a light laugh to escape his lips and he squeezed her arm, and gave her a blindingly bright smile that Norah knew she was in serious trouble… That she was starting to fall for this man that Greyback was ordering her to seduce and help kill.

And she did not know what to do about it.

Glad Norah was able to calm Ollie down and she said yes to a dinner date! Minor progress lol. Next chapter, Wes and Norah have a discussion, and Ollie further makes amends with Norah.