JUST A SHELL
Disclaimer: I wish I did own them, but I don't.
This story is also on the Totally Sean Biggerstaff website. It is under a different name I think, so don't think that I stole it. Coz I didn't.
This story is completely from Oliver's point of view.
I once thought that Quidditch would be the most important thing in my life.
I learnt the hard way that it was just a pathetic game, a game I used to escape the nightmares in my head.
When I came to Hogwarts, I was a shell. A shell containing a horrible twisted beast. Cold darkness filled me. It started in my heart, then spread throughout my body. When it reached my mind, I knew it was over. I had ignored my chances to get rid of it, and now it was too late. The night I realised that, was the night I stared having dreams.
Horrible dreams. Reminding me of what I had done. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fault, that I had to do it, but I never believed it. Not after seeing the look on her face. You see, when I was at Hogwarts, everyone knew me as Oliver Wood, the captain of the Griffindor Quidditch team. But they never saw past that. My Girlfriends went out with me for the glory. Maybe they liked me, but it was only a little bit. They liked to be known as the captain's girlfriend. And it hurt. Never any true friends. Glory only.
I shouldn't say I was a shell when I came to Hogwarts. My first two years there were great. I loved it. But it soon came to an end. It all started during the summer before my third year. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay at the castle, not to have to face my real life.
But, Professor Dumbledor said that it wouldn't be practical. So, I was shipped off home with every other boy and girl in the school. Back to a home that would be the cause of what I would call my downfall.
I always thought of my mother as an angel. She had long golden hair and bright blue eyes. Her skin was soft and it glowed like pearls.
She used to hold me when I was little. She would hug me tight and whisper in my ear. "It's alright, Oliver. Don't cry, I'm here." That's how I remember her on good days.
I loved her more than anything. That's why I couldn't stand it. When he hurt her, it made me crazy. One day, it made me crazier than ever. See, when I first got back to the house for the summer, she hid it from me. I didn't even notice anything wrong.
Then, one day, me and her were sitting down, and I was showing her work from school. I heard the door slam, and we both looked up, startled. He was standing in the doorway, angrier than I've ever seen anyone. She tried to push me away, but he grabbed my arm. He slammed me into the wall, snarling at me to get out of the way.
I remember the look in his eyes. That look I will never forget. That's how I remember him. He turned back to my mother. He started screaming something about her being the cause of all his problems.
I never thought he would hurt her. Me, maybe. Wouldn't be the first time. But not her. I couldn't have been any more wrong.
He picked her up, pulling her up by her neck. He slammed her back into the wall, he head hitting it with a sickening thud. He kept on screaming about her being a bitch and ruining his life.
He hit her over and over, making her scream. Then he beat her for being too loud. Her screams filled my ears. I started to shout. "NO! Stop it! You're hurting her! STOP!" I pulled on his arm. Kicked him in the shin.
He just turned and threw me into the wall again. He land a few good punches, kicked me in the ribs. Three broken. I remember that much. But then he went back to her. I got up from where I was. I knew I had to do something, or she would die. Then I remembered my wand.
My wand. The one thing he had no power against. It was right there. On the couch. I had been showing it to mum. I crawled over, so he wouldn't notice. I felt its coolness in my grasp.
I stood and pointed it at him. I had read in a book about the most powerful curses in the world that the most powerful one had to have lots of control and power behind it. Anger was power. I pointed it at him.
"Avada...." The rest was a blur.
Greenish light burst from the wand, the force slamming me into the wall. My mother screamed again but then she stopped. I looked up, dazed.
He lay on the floor, blank, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. I stood up and walked over to him. Then I screamed and kicked him. Over and over again. I stopped only when I felt my mother's hand on my leg.
I looked down, right then and there, and felt my heart break. I had hit her. I had been so angry with him that I didn't think I could hurt her. But I did. The curse must have hit her too, and she was dying right before my eyes.
I fell to my knees by her side. "Mum! Mum! Please, get up. Tell me you're all right. Please!" She shook her head. "Oliver."
I don't know what I expected her to say, but whatever it was, it wasn't what she said. "Oliver, what did you do? You've gone and killed two people. You can't be my son. My Oliver wouldn't do that." Tears streamed from my eyes. "No, mum. Don't you understand? I saved you. I stopped him. No more pain."
I wanted her to hug me, to tell me everything would be okay. I needed her to tell me that it was all right. But she never did. Her eyes grew hazy. She looked up into my eyes, and shook her head. "You're not my Son..." Her voice trailed off.
Those were the last words she had said to me. "You're not my son." I loved her. I killed for her. But she only pushed me away. But the looked on her face haunts me forever. I can't say exactly what it was, but it hurt me more than anything.
I really killed three people that night. I'm just a shell now. A shell for darkness. As I said, I learned the hard way.
Dumbledor arrived later and cleared everything up. But he couldn't help what I became. That was my downfall. Death is all I have left now.
Death.
Disclaimer: I wish I did own them, but I don't.
This story is also on the Totally Sean Biggerstaff website. It is under a different name I think, so don't think that I stole it. Coz I didn't.
This story is completely from Oliver's point of view.
I once thought that Quidditch would be the most important thing in my life.
I learnt the hard way that it was just a pathetic game, a game I used to escape the nightmares in my head.
When I came to Hogwarts, I was a shell. A shell containing a horrible twisted beast. Cold darkness filled me. It started in my heart, then spread throughout my body. When it reached my mind, I knew it was over. I had ignored my chances to get rid of it, and now it was too late. The night I realised that, was the night I stared having dreams.
Horrible dreams. Reminding me of what I had done. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fault, that I had to do it, but I never believed it. Not after seeing the look on her face. You see, when I was at Hogwarts, everyone knew me as Oliver Wood, the captain of the Griffindor Quidditch team. But they never saw past that. My Girlfriends went out with me for the glory. Maybe they liked me, but it was only a little bit. They liked to be known as the captain's girlfriend. And it hurt. Never any true friends. Glory only.
I shouldn't say I was a shell when I came to Hogwarts. My first two years there were great. I loved it. But it soon came to an end. It all started during the summer before my third year. I didn't want to go home. I wanted to stay at the castle, not to have to face my real life.
But, Professor Dumbledor said that it wouldn't be practical. So, I was shipped off home with every other boy and girl in the school. Back to a home that would be the cause of what I would call my downfall.
I always thought of my mother as an angel. She had long golden hair and bright blue eyes. Her skin was soft and it glowed like pearls.
She used to hold me when I was little. She would hug me tight and whisper in my ear. "It's alright, Oliver. Don't cry, I'm here." That's how I remember her on good days.
I loved her more than anything. That's why I couldn't stand it. When he hurt her, it made me crazy. One day, it made me crazier than ever. See, when I first got back to the house for the summer, she hid it from me. I didn't even notice anything wrong.
Then, one day, me and her were sitting down, and I was showing her work from school. I heard the door slam, and we both looked up, startled. He was standing in the doorway, angrier than I've ever seen anyone. She tried to push me away, but he grabbed my arm. He slammed me into the wall, snarling at me to get out of the way.
I remember the look in his eyes. That look I will never forget. That's how I remember him. He turned back to my mother. He started screaming something about her being the cause of all his problems.
I never thought he would hurt her. Me, maybe. Wouldn't be the first time. But not her. I couldn't have been any more wrong.
He picked her up, pulling her up by her neck. He slammed her back into the wall, he head hitting it with a sickening thud. He kept on screaming about her being a bitch and ruining his life.
He hit her over and over, making her scream. Then he beat her for being too loud. Her screams filled my ears. I started to shout. "NO! Stop it! You're hurting her! STOP!" I pulled on his arm. Kicked him in the shin.
He just turned and threw me into the wall again. He land a few good punches, kicked me in the ribs. Three broken. I remember that much. But then he went back to her. I got up from where I was. I knew I had to do something, or she would die. Then I remembered my wand.
My wand. The one thing he had no power against. It was right there. On the couch. I had been showing it to mum. I crawled over, so he wouldn't notice. I felt its coolness in my grasp.
I stood and pointed it at him. I had read in a book about the most powerful curses in the world that the most powerful one had to have lots of control and power behind it. Anger was power. I pointed it at him.
"Avada...." The rest was a blur.
Greenish light burst from the wand, the force slamming me into the wall. My mother screamed again but then she stopped. I looked up, dazed.
He lay on the floor, blank, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. I stood up and walked over to him. Then I screamed and kicked him. Over and over again. I stopped only when I felt my mother's hand on my leg.
I looked down, right then and there, and felt my heart break. I had hit her. I had been so angry with him that I didn't think I could hurt her. But I did. The curse must have hit her too, and she was dying right before my eyes.
I fell to my knees by her side. "Mum! Mum! Please, get up. Tell me you're all right. Please!" She shook her head. "Oliver."
I don't know what I expected her to say, but whatever it was, it wasn't what she said. "Oliver, what did you do? You've gone and killed two people. You can't be my son. My Oliver wouldn't do that." Tears streamed from my eyes. "No, mum. Don't you understand? I saved you. I stopped him. No more pain."
I wanted her to hug me, to tell me everything would be okay. I needed her to tell me that it was all right. But she never did. Her eyes grew hazy. She looked up into my eyes, and shook her head. "You're not my Son..." Her voice trailed off.
Those were the last words she had said to me. "You're not my son." I loved her. I killed for her. But she only pushed me away. But the looked on her face haunts me forever. I can't say exactly what it was, but it hurt me more than anything.
I really killed three people that night. I'm just a shell now. A shell for darkness. As I said, I learned the hard way.
Dumbledor arrived later and cleared everything up. But he couldn't help what I became. That was my downfall. Death is all I have left now.
Death.