38

NORAH swallowed down hard past the lump in her throat as she felt it hollow and constrict. Wes immediately shot Norah an apologetic look and looked like he wanted nothing more than to flee the scene entirely and Disapparate upon being on the receiving end of a particularly scathing and violent look from Ollie.

Wes felt a muscle in his jaw twitch as he summoned what little courage within him was left as he bravely stepped forward and firmly dug the heels of his boots into the ground, currently the only thing standing in between his friend and Ollie Brennan.

He flinched as the taller, older man's icy-blue gaze practically penetrated his very soul as his eyes bore into Wes's, seeming as though the Legilimens was able to see straight into his heart and soul with just the power of a single look.

The werewolf decided he didn't like it, and his anxiety only spiked a level or two when the man spoke up, his tone clipped and cold.

"What are you doing out here?" he growled hoarsely, his voice painfully bitter and deep as he rose to his full height of around 6'3, towering over Wes.

Norah, sensing danger, immediately stepped in front of Wes, despite the man's best efforts to fling his arms out protectively in front of her to stop her moving.

"It's my fault, Ollie," Norah stammered nervously, a sheen of sweat beading along her brow. "I wanted to attend your father's funeral. I made him take me. Yell and scream if you want, but at me. Not him, it wasn't Wes's fault, the idea was mine and mine alone, Ollie," she begged, unable to quell the note of desperation from seeping into her tone as their gazes locked, their eyes having a conversation of their own.

She watched as Ollie gave a sudden start at her words, stilling his movements as he sanguinely lifted his head and turned towards Norah, his scathing look currently directed towards her friend. Norah couldn't be sure, but she swore that something sparked in the man's glacier cold eyes and softened as he looked at her.

Ollie took advantage of the temporary silence to simply stare at the young blonde werewolf who'd rushed to defend her friend from her own stubborn insistence. Norah, though she was nervous, her heart pounding against her chest and threatening to betray her, continued to hold her ground, digging the heels of her black ankle boots into the grass beneath her feet.

She did not blink or so much as move a muscle even when the man's eyes raked over her form in her black lace dress before coming up to rest on her eyes. After a moment of a heavy, awkward silence that seemed to suffocate the life from her very lungs, the air around her feeling like it was choking her breath, the Legilimens' expression turned languid as if he were bored.

"Leave," he muttered, his voice having gone dangerously quiet, his blue eyes still firmly fixated on Norah.

Wes looked uneasily towards his friend before deciding to follow the older wizard's advice, deeming it wise not to invoke his temper further, and turning on the heels of his boots and Disapparating from the graveyard, but not before shooting her an apologetic look with his hazel eyes, trying to convey his worry for her.

As he vanished, Norah met Wes's gaze and tried to communicate that she could handle Ollie and that she would be just fine and for him to go back home, and not to worry about her. Though truth be told, she felt anything but confident.

She wished Tonks were here. Nymphadora seemed to be one of the few people, perhaps the only person in Brennan's life, capable of calming Ollie down, but Norah knew she had to try.

"What are you doing out here, Jameson? Did you really think you could sneak off like this without me?" Norah visibly winced and shirked away as the man snarled. Though it wasn't necessarily out of fear, per se, but more so because she was still recovering from her initial shock at the man's abrupt appearance and was inadequately prepared to answer the wizard.

"I…I—I was just…" Norah stammered as her voice cracked and faltered as it tapered off meekly, but Ollie interjected immediately, his tone rather annoyed.

"Were you trying to run away from me?" he snarled, his eyes glinting in the dark as the sun had now long since set. Norah immediately became still as she looked up at the tall wizard in utter astonishment.

His voice sounded dull and quite lifeless. His profile was now turned to the side, rendering it almost impossible for Norah to make out any details of her partner's face, and although the blonde witch and wolf couldn't see the former Slytherin's face, she sensed the man was not necessarily angry with her, but bitter, instead, for reasons that she couldn't begin to fathom.

"No," Norah whispered, her voice little more than a faint susurration, almost lost in the cool evening breeze as a gust of wind picked up. She hesitated, biting her bottom lip as Ollie, without a word to her, silently held out his arm, motioning for her to take it.

"Take it," he snapped through gritted teeth when she outstretched her arm, her fingers trembling, though did not immediately place her hand around his. "We're late for night duty. First shift, Lupin, and Tonks will take the second. Dumbledore's sending us to watch Evan Rosier's house, Norah," he barked.

Norah numbly nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as she summoned what little ounce of her inner Gryffindor courage remained within her body and placed her shaking hand on top of Ollie's arm, allowing the man to escort her to the rooftop adjacent to the well-known Death Eater's house.

Lupin and Tonks had already conjured comfortable-looking squashy purple sleeping bags and pillows and were sound asleep, getting what little sleep they could before the two of them would be woken up to take over for Ollie and Norah.

She watched as Ollie stalked off towards the edge of the rooftop and he sat dangerously close to the edge, not fearing to fall off.

Norah shivered, wishing she'd thought to bring a coat or a jacket or even a cloak. The night was cold. Cold enough that she wondered how her partner wasn't bloody freezing, but since the tall man whose back was now facing her tended to favor thick Irish-made woolen sweaters, she guessed Ollie had his ways of keeping warm. She wracked her brain for something to say, though as she nervously approached and took a seat on the ledge next to the man, sitting cross-legged and doing her best not to look down, he spoke.

His tone was clipped and hard, suggesting his immense displeasure with Norah's behavior earlier. "I don't think I need to explain to you why your behavior was stupid and utterly foolish, Jameson," he growled in a hoarse voice. Ollie refused to look at her.

She sat rigidly next to her partner as Ollie continued to look out across the countryside landscape and down in the direction of Death Eater Evan Rosier's house. Norah tried her hardest not to shiver while waiting with gritted teeth for the arrogant Legilimens to turn his head and look her in the eyes.

Norah would be lying to herself if she said she didn't want 'this' whatever 'this' happened to be for her, to be over with as quickly as possible, for the Legilimens to scream and fly into a rant here on top of the rooftop if he had to, even if it woke up Lupin and Tonks, for her to receive whatever scathing and cutting remarks he wanted her to hear about her sneaking off without telling him, and then retreat to the safety of her own bed back at Headquarters and try to forget this ever happened.

Though she knew just by looking at the man nervously out of the corner of her peripherals, Ollie had no intention of letting it happen.

Regardless, she figured her best course of action was to remain silent until the man provoked her for an answer, but it did not stop her hands from violently trembling as she tucked her feet underneath the skirts of her dress and awkwardly fidgeted with her hands in her lap, chewing on the wall of her mouth as she racked her brain for something—anything—to say to him that might supplicate and calm down his temper.

So far, Ollie had said little as he continued his pensive and slightly moody staring out at Rosier's safe house, giving her only a brief withering look of irritation, a muscle in his jaw giving a twitch before he turned away from her and looked out at the country.

"Why did you leave?" he barked.

His voice was surprisingly rough and coarse, which, in its own way, put Norah at ease. He was starting to sound much like he had the first night the two had been introduced, which for whatever reason, sent an inexplicable peace wallowing in her soul. It gave Ollie a sense of vulnerability, which had otherwise been absent throughout Norah's short time of knowing her partner.

He peeked at her in a guarded manner out of the corner of his gaze, his icy blue eyes glinting with anger, looking at Norah as though the werewolf were a wild, unstable creature that he'd caught and now had no idea how to handle or much less what to do with her.

Norah blinked owlishly at her Order partner's scathing voice, which succeeded in bringing her back to the present precariousness of her current situation.

Making sure Wes stayed out of trouble, and taking the blame, as she'd been right before. Attending Jack's funeral had been her idea right from the start.

"I wanted to pay my respects to your father, Ollie." She tried her hardest to contain her honesty, but in the end, Norah couldn't manage to bring herself to do it. She didn't know why she was telling him the truth. Norah let out a sigh and turned her attention towards Rosier's house so she wouldn't have to look at him while she spoke.

Because Ollie's a Legilimens and he'll pry the truth out of you anyway whether you like it or not because that's just what he does, she thought bitterly to herself and flinched when he let out a growl.

"I heard that," he snarled through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes until they were mere slits as he glared at Norah. "And you haven't answered my question. Why did I have to come looking for you? Why did I have to find out from Tonks of all people that you snuck out without telling me or anyone else? Why were you at my father's funeral, Norah?" he hissed.

Norah would have immediately fired back with some hot-headed retort in response to Brennan's growing temper with her, but something about the shift in the man's countenance as Ollie fell silent gave the young werewolf pause.

She couldn't be sure, but she'd sworn the older man almost looked…defeated.

Tired, even, she would go as far as to say. It felt to the witch as though the Legilimens couldn't be bothered to argue with her, and yet, it felt imperative to him that he do so in an effort to understand why she'd fled from Headquarters without telling anyone.

His back was turned towards her halfway, one hand resting dangerously close to Norah's on the top of the roof, while the other pinched at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

For a brief moment, Norah wondered if Ollie was getting another of his splitting headaches from being unable to turn off his ability, so to speak, of being able to read minds.

She was momentarily stumped by her partner's sudden change in attitude.

Norah didn't really know what to think, much less how to respond, but she knew Ollie expected an answer from her, one way or another, so Norah forced herself to ignore her own feelings on this matter and just answer his questions.

"I already told you," she answered, swallowing, and inwardly cringing to herself upon hearing the faltering crack and dip in her tone. "I wanted to pay my respects to your father. I thought he deserved it."

"He doesn't deserve your tears, Jameson. Save your tears. My father was not a kind man. If you ask me, I'm glad the bastard is dead. I'm sure he was only too glad even in death that his only son stayed away from his funeral. I won't mourn for that man, I'll celebrate," snarled Ollie in a cold voice devoid of warmth that made her shiver as a chill went down her back. "Did you really think you could get away with this?" he growled, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Do you—do you have any idea what my father's colleagues were like? Are," he corrected himself, his face blanching as he realized his father's 'friends' if he could even call them that, men like Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, Evan Rosier, men his father had grown up alongside, were still alive and at large. "Those men would have tortured you, or killed you, even, if they found out what you are, Norah, and they likely would have if I hadn't come to protect you!"

"Protect me?" Norah repeated numbly after a moment of silence.

She bit down on her tongue to avoid accidentally letting it slip that as it so happened, she knew all of those men that Ollie claimed to have been on cordial terms with, but she couldn't very well reveal that she knew none of them would hurt her, at least not without revealing the unpleasant fact that Fenrir Greyback had adopted her from a young age.

Her voice took on a much sharper edge as her own blue eyes narrowed by way of response to Ollie's clipped and angered tone, matching his icy coldness.

"I don't need your protection and to be—to be mollycoddled, Ollie. I was never in any danger. I can handle myself. You forget I'm used to harsh treatment. It's what I am, and there is no changing that about me."

She swallowed down hard and looked away for a moment as she realized what the man really implied.

She did not even have to use her own talents in Occlumency to dip into the man's eyes. It was plastered all over Ollie Brennan's face, and especially glimmering in his crystalline blue eyes. He thought she had been trying to run away.

"You thought I was leaving, didn't you," she said flatly. "I wasn't, Ollie. I'm right here where I'm sitting. I'm not anywhere else…" She felt him give a start at her words, proceeding to stare at her incredulously in disbelief and something like admiration, but Ollie said nothing. It wasn't a question. Norah fell silent and watched as the thirty-two-year-old wizard's expression quickly went from one of anger and annoyance with his partner's behavior of sneaking off into one of alarm.

He looked, Norah thought, for the first time since knowing her partner, flustered and at a loss. If she didn't know any better, she would say Ollie was looking scared.

Scared of the thought that she would even consider abandoning him and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix.

His eyes darted to the left and right, around her face as the moment fleetingly passed, looking at anywhere but at Norah, she knew.

It took Norah a split second or two to figure out what he was doing, but then the young witch realized the wizard was merely searching her gaze for anything that suggested she was being dishonest with him now.

The woman sighed and looked up at him before looking out towards Death Eater Evan Rosier's home.

"Ollie?" she asked, looking like she had something really important to say, and she guessed she did. She flinched as Ollie slowly turned his head to look at her, almost methodical and calculating in his movements. "Can I…can I ask you something serious?"

"What?" His tone was little more than a rough, grating bark, though the untold amount of hurt that welled within her chest at hearing him address her in this way stung.

It hurt like hell. Ollie glared at Norah, causing her to flinch and shirk away in both hurt and surprise. She guessed she couldn't fault Ollie for being angry with her for sneaking out without him, really.

Norah furrowed her brows into a light frown and suddenly averted her eyes, desperately wanting to ask the question that was burning on the tip of her tongue, and yet, knowing that asking was crossing a huge line.

But it was already too late to take it back or stop it from happening, as her lips were no longer taking directions from her own mind. "Everyone was scared of your father, Ollie, weren't they?" Norah started softly, but still, the wolf wouldn't look at the Legilimens while she spoke, instead, keeping her gaze fixated on the countryside landscape, watching Rosier's home for any suspected movements or suspicious activity.

None that she could see, but anything was better than meeting her partner's glacier blue eyes and seeing his anger.

Ollie narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips into a thin, rigid line as he felt his anger swell in his chest.

He wouldn't dare ever hit or raise a hand or his wand against a woman (except Bellatrix Lestrange) for that matter, but he couldn't help but wonder just where the hell this werewolf's bravery was coming from.

Not even Tonks, Merlin bless her, would dare ask him a question about his dad quite like this. For a split second, Ollie wondered if Norah had been sorted into Gryffindor when she'd attended Hogwarts.

It would explain a lot, he thought bitterly to himself. He wouldn't expect any of the other Order members or anybody else in his life, for that matter, to dare speak ill of Jack to his face. Especially not a witch.

"What about it?" Ollie growled in a dry voice.

Norah paused, wracking her brain for the right words.

"Well…" She hesitated, biting down on her bottom lip. "I know he's your father, Ollie, and no matter what you say, I think there's a part of that's sad that he's gone. I can see it in your eyes. But…do you…"

She breathed in and out slowly and then forced herself to look up so that her blue eyes met his. She could tell her words had hit their mark, judging by how Ollie was looking at her.

"I mean…do you feel relieved that he isn't around anymore? Because of who he was, how much trouble he caused. How mean he was to you?" she asked, daring to not look away at all, refusing to revert her gaze from Ollie.

For a moment, Ollie felt utterly speechless. He didn't know what to say to the young witch seated next to him on the rooftop. What the hell was wrong with this werewolf? Why would Norah Jameson ask him this?

It was bad enough that everyone in the wizarding world knew what a bastard Death Eater Jack Brennan was, and as a consequence, thought him once as well, but what good did Norah think it was going to do for him to talk about it? Not a damn thing, that's what…

"No," he answered, crinkling his eyebrows in a frown. "Jack is…my dad, Norah. Aside from Baba, he was the only family that I had left. Raised me. He didn't do a great job of it, obviously, but that's life."

He stopped himself before he accidentally let too much slip. He didn't need to talk about his psychological problems to Norah on day two of their partnership here in the Order. "I'm glad Jack's gone."

"I just…" Norah paused as she pretended to feign an interest in looking out down into the countryside and across the way at Rosier's house, but Ollie wasn't fooled. He could see her actively studying his expression out of the corner of her eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. "Well…I just thought…that you…"

Ollie waited, having to desperately fight against the urge to let out a low growl of frustration and just tell Norah to bloody come out with it and don't leave him hanging.

Why was she so hesitant to tell him whatever was on her mind? Sitting here and just waiting for Jameson to build up enough courage was frustrating as hell. But then he remembered what Tonks and Lupin had told him about being patient, so he stayed silent and waited while she gathered her thoughts. It wasn't long before Norah found her voice.

"I just thought that you might understand," Norah finally confessed as she rose to her feet and brushed her hands on the skirts of her black dress as she looked down at him. "Because…because…I kind of wish that my dad would just keel over and die, b-but…he's my father, like it or not, and I hate him and love him too, it's—it's weird to speak of it this way," she whispered in a hushed voice like her confession was some sort of dirty secret that Norah was ashamed of. "It feels like…like I'm on a train that crashed or something, and no one came and rescued me," she said, fighting back a half-choked sob as she swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat that hollowed and constricting, cutting off her passages.

Ollie stared at Norah as she looked down at her as he too, copied her movements and rose to his feet. Her blue eyes shone with tears and her lip, set in an adorable little pout, though he'd never tell her that, was trembling slightly. He hoped he hadn't upset her.

"I guess I'll leave you alone," Norah offered numbly as she turned on her heels to join the spot where Lupin and Tonks were still soundly fast asleep.

Ollie's frown deepened as Norah turned her back on him. He couldn't understand why she would be glad she would want her own father dead unless her old man was as much of a bastard to her as his dad had been to him.

He couldn't say for sure how her father treated her, though just the fact that she might be suffering at her father's hands behind closed doors caused an overwhelming surge of anger to flood his veins, coupled with an even stronger intensity to protect his partner from any further harm.

"Wait! Norah, wait!" Before Norah could join Lupin and Tonks and conjure up a sleeping bag of her own, he reached out and wound his fingers around her left wrist gingerly.

Norah instinctively pulled her arm away from Ollie and stared at him with wide, almond-shaped eyes. He raised his hands up defensively, showing Norah he had meant nothing by it just now, though truth be told, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to hold onto the blond witch's hand. He liked the incredible heat she gave off, seeming to bask in it.

He wondered if it was a werewolf thing. Making a mental note to ask Remus later if there was time and he remembered, he shoved it to the back of his mind for consideration and shook his head to clear his mind.

"I—I understand what you're feeling, Norah, trust me, I do. I know this might be…hard for you to believe, considering how suave and charming I turned out to be," he growled, letting a dark little chuckle escape his lips while he attempted to make this conversation for the wolf as light as possible, not wanting to upset her further. "But my dad was a bastard to me. I—I only hope that yours isn't hurting you. You would tell me if he was?" he asked sharply.

"Really?" Norah's blue eyes were wide as she sat back down on the ledge of the rooftop alongside Ollie as he patted the ground next to her, indicating for her to come closer. She faced him, her hands in her lap.

At least this time, Norah didn't look away as though she were feeling embarrassed or shy to be discussing such a sensitive topic as their fathers with him. She looked right at him, as though Norah was genuinely interested in what she was about to say, and for all Ollie knew, the woman was. "What did he do?"

Ollie merely grunted wordlessly as he gesticulated with his hands to the burn scar underneath his eye, for starters, and turned his head to the side and awkwardly cleared his throat, searching for what to say, what to tell Norah first.

It wasn't often anyone save for Lupin and Tonks took an interest in his life, so this was…foreign. New.

But if he was taking her to dinner tomorrow to make up for his despicable behavior of her thus far, then he figured he owed it to the witch to divulge a bit. As he stayed silent for a split second to gather his thoughts, Ollie wondered just how much to tell Norah. He didn't want to go into too much detail. She didn't need to hear about the violent things his father had done.

Hell, she was looking at him right now. Burning his face with an Incendio Charm ought to have been telling enough, what kind of man Jack was. But then again, maybe Norah could relate and feel comforted, at least a little bit, by the fact that she wasn't the only one with a shit excuse for a father, and that they could bond over the topic of abusive backgrounds.

He cringed. Not great first date material, but he'd rather talk about it now and get it out into the open than during dinner at the new Italian place tomorrow night. It wasn't much, but perhaps the newfound connection would be something to build on.

Ollie decided in the end to keep the story he was about to tell Norah brief and concise, mostly because he didn't like talking about himself, and wanted to learn more about her. "My dad drank a lot," he started, wincing as he recollected Jack's fondness for Fire Whiskey. "And I mean a lot. He'd get angry. Violent. He broke my arm once when I was six years old for accidentally spilling a bottle of ink on his work desk. He'd yell, scream, throw things, hit my mother and me."

Norah drew in a sharp little gasp and didn't once revert her gaze, which suggested she was listening to him intently as Ollie forced herself to continue talking.

"My mother left the family when I was ten. She couldn't take the abuse anymore. I thought…she'd take me with her when she…when she left, but she didn't." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable.

He swallowed down past the lump in his throat.

"He died casting a spell that went wrong and backfired on him. The reports claim he died of a heart attack and smoke inhalation, but his house burnt down. He set himself on fire," he growled, a dark look flitting through his burning blue eyes. "I'm glad I stayed away from his funeral. Merlin and God themselves only know how glad the bastard probably is in hell that I didn't attend his stupid memorial service," he growled.

"And…" Norah's voice faltered as she hesitated, but evidently found her voice again and spoke up. "You don't feel guilty about that, Ollie?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed with worry and concern as she looked at him. "No one thinks it's weird you don't care?" she questioned, raising her brows in alarm.

"No." Ollie shrugged his shoulders and shot Norah an odd little half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I miss my father, but not the way you think, Norah. I miss what my dad could have been, not what he was," he sighed, raking his fingers through his thick tuft of short black hair, and looked away for a moment before turning his head back to look at her.

She nodded, a light igniting in her blue eyes. "Oh. I—I think I see what you mean, Ollie."

"Don't let anybody make you feel guilty for how you feel, Norah." Ollie stared at the young werewolf, fixing Norah with a pointed stare she wasn't sure what to make of. "Anybody who says you should feel one way and you don't just means they don't know what the hell they're talking about. Anybody gives you any grief over it, tell them to fuck off or you come get me."

He almost smirked as he saw Jameson's blue eyes widen and go as round and large as a dinner plate. "Oh, uh, I—I couldn't say that…." She shook her head. "Dad would probably cut out my tongue if he heard me talk to him like that. I can't say that to him."

She paused when she realized she had started to ramble, a light pink blush speckling along her cheeks. Norah lifted her face to his, only to find the same sorrow within his icy blue eyes as she was sure had nestled in hers and had made itself feel right at home. Part of her was overwhelmed with Ollie's empathy for her that all she wanted to do right now was lose herself in the deep blue pools of his irises.

The part of her, however, that won out in the end, was the part that wanted to crawl away and hide. Norah blinked a couple of times to snap herself back to her usual hardened demeanor and stoicism and hid her emotions just as quickly as she let them surface, so far, letting only Ollie see her like this.

"Well…I…" Norah announced, her tone uncomfortable. "If we're going to be well-rested enough to go to dinner tomorrow, we should…get some sleep, don't you think?" She looked over her shoulder towards the still-sleeping figures of Lupin and Tonks. "I think it's safe to go ahead and wake them up now."

She hopped up as if the rooftop around the two of them was on fire, but quickly remembered her manners, she looked up at Ollie, who stood with her.

"Thank you…for listening. And telling me the truth. I'm sorry I snuck out without telling you, I just...didn't know how you'd react," Norah apologized, a pained expression on her face. "I—I'm looking forward to going to dinner with you tomorrow."

She bashfully turned her head to eye him out of the corner of her lowered gaze as she stared at the floor beneath her blank ankle boots.

Before her resolve could fail her, she summoned an ounce of her Gryffindor courage and leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, on the side of his face where burnt, this time, just to prove a point, that she had not forgotten.

Norah pulled apart, letting her lips linger for a fraction of a second longer than was probably appropriate, but she didn't care. "Good night," she whispered, smiling a little at Ollie's stunned expression.

He raised a hand to his cheek and merely looked at her as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. Before Ollie could say anything, she turned on her heels and headed to the other side of the roof to wake up Lupin and Tonks and get some sleep herself, leaving Ollie to watch her disappear.

Ollie stared owlishly at Norah Jameson's backside, the spot where her lips had touched his cheek still tingled and burned.

What had just happened? Did she just…did she really kiss him? He paused, his lips parted open in shock, watching as Norah knelt on the ground and gently roused the other two from the thicket of deep sleep.

As he looked at his partner, Ollie hoped Norah would feel any semblance of guilt over her feelings. She had every right if her father or anybody else in her life who was hurting her, to want them out of her life for good.

Maybe if he could follow through on his promise to both her and Dumbledore to keep her safe, her life would improve if she stayed by his side, then.

Ollie sat rooted to his spot, considering what little he knew of his partner so far, hoping tomorrow during their dinner date, she would open up a little.

He knew he was already beginning to like her, he could feel it that much. He wasn't stupid, however inexperienced he was around young women, yet every new tidbit he learned of the young blonde werewolf only made Ollie respect Norah Jameson even more.

How was that bloody possible? How on earth could total perfection be improved upon? Norah must know some…some magic secret or something of the like because every time Ollie's eyes came to rest on her, it felt like his chest would tighten and constrict.

"You should sleep, Ollie," he heard Lupin call over to him. Letting out a groan of annoyance, Ollie's head turned sharply to the right to see Remus cautiously approaching his spot alongside Tonks, who was looking pale and drowsy from being roused from her sleep, but otherwise alright, Ollie was pleased to see. Ollie cringed. These two had been so quiet during his and Norah's conversation, he'd almost bloody forgotten his best mate and her partner were up here.

He had just assumed they would stay out of his business and mind their own, but needless to say, at least when it came to Dora, that was off the table now.

Ollie winced as the pair of them sat down on the rooftop, causing Ollie to become sandwiched in between the two of them. He hoped Tonks and Lupin hadn't heard a single word he'd spilled to Norah.

He didn't need either one of them feeling sorry for him. "Hear anything interesting, you guys?" Ollie glared over at Lupin and Tonks, as though daring them to say a word of what he and Norah discussed.

If they had, these two could at least do him and Jameson the kindness of keeping their mouths shut.

Tonks was smirking slightly as she shrugged further into Lupin's tattered brown jacket for warmth. "Nope, Ol. Didn't hear anything at all except an occasional couple of owls," she chuckled nervously.

"I didn't think so." Ollie narrowed his eyes.

"Looks like you're one step closer to making Jameson your girlfriend though, so proud of you." Tonks couldn't resist teasing her best mate a little bit.

Ollie rolled his eyes and turned his head sharply away so they wouldn't see the mad blush creeping onto his cheeks and flushing his face high with color.

"Shut up," he growled in an annoyed, deep tone.

"It's cute," Tonks added, unfazed by Ollie's sudden surly attitude, used to it from the man by now.

Sighing, Ollie let out a huff of frustration and rose to his feet, heading to join Norah and use one of the sleeping bags that Tonks and Lupin had just used.

"Good night," he barked over his shoulder in a clipped and curt tone, signaling to Lupin and Tonks as they took over that his growing fondness for the blonde little werewolf was not a topic open for discussion. He didn't bother to look back behind him, not even when Lupin and Tonks bade him goodnight.

He let out a sigh and crawled underneath the squashy purple sleeping bag he was sure Lupin or Tonks, one of them, had nicked from Hogwarts somehow. Honestly, he was bloody exhausted.

So, he closed his eyes and his mind to let himself drift off into the throes of sleep and listened to the familiar sounds—crickets chirping, frogs croaking, the soft rhythmic sound of Norah's breathing as she slept…

He continued listening to the sounds of his partner sleeping until Ollie was lulled to a night of deep sleep.