Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or thing that you have heard of before.
Note: This takes place around Harry's first year. I have changed some of the things that are found in the books, so please don't review trying to correct me.
Rating: PG for slight, tasteful, sensuality.
Enjoy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a cool day in November. Exactly two weeks after it happened. He sat in his room, looking out the window, reliving the moment; the moment that would change his life forever.
It was a typical Quidditch match against Slitheren, or so it seemed. It was fifteen minutes into the game; the score was 10-10. Oliver was hovering by the goal posts when he noticed the Slitheren's new chaser coming at him, full speed, with rage in his eyes. That was all Oliver could remember before the fall. The chaser hit him so hard he flew off his broom. Oliver had fallen before, but never because he had been forced off his broom. Falling those fifty feet seemed like an eternity. When he finally hit the ground he heard something shatter, almost like glass. But it wasn't. He realized it was his leg when the sudden pain became too much to bear. He screamed out in pain right before he passed out. He woke up in the hospital wing two days later. But when he opened his eyes, and tried to get out of bed, he couldn't feel his left leg. The doctor said that he would probably never be able to walk on that leg again. And that that was the last time he would ever mount a broom. How could he go on living not playing Quidditch? It was his life, and had been since he could remember.
He shuttered just thinking about what happened. About how his life was over, about how he would never feel happy again. And about the fact that the so-powerful magic that he has grown to learn, could not do a thing to help him. Broken, even fractured, bones could be regrown, but not shattered ones. He sat up straight in his wheel chair and began to wheel around his room in circles, (he would pace if he could walk) it was the only thing he could do to stop from crying. He looked at all the cards, flowers, and candy, he had gotten from people. The people who cared about him, and the people he was letting down. He looked up at the clock, and decided to get going because he didn't want to be late.
Dumbledore had asked Oliver to come to his office today at 1:00pm. Oliver didn't know why, since he had never been called there before. In fact, he wasn't sure if he even knew where it was. But eventually he did find it, and yes, he was on time. He knocked on the huge oak double-doors. He only had to wait about ten seconds to get the response to come, but it was a rather long ten seconds in his mind.
Oliver rolled into the office with little difficulty; he was beginning it get the hang of the whole wheel chair thing. It was fairly large, and beautifully decorated. It looked like a huge library with walls about thirty feet tall that were giant bookcases that were packed to the seams with books. In one corner of the office was a desk that looked miniature compared to the rest of the room. Dumbledore was in the middle of writing something when he looked up and saw Oliver.
"You don't have to stay so far away, I don't bite." Dumbledore said in his normal cheery, yet somewhat quiet voice.
Oliver rolled closer. At this point he was vastly confused because he still didn't know why he had been called in.
"Am I in trouble, sir?" Oliver asked honestly.
Dumbledore's smile faded and his face immediately became serious.
"No, you're not in trouble, Oliver." Dumbledore paused, trying to select his words carefully.
"The reason I asked you here is," He paused. ".in regards to your injury."
Oliver looked down, trying to hide the sadness that had suddenly overtaken his face.
Dumbledore went on.
"I know someone who may be able to.heal you."
Oliver's head shot up at the word "heal".
"WHO?" Oliver said with his eyes as big as the moon.
"She is actually one of my granddaughters."
"You have kids?" Oliver asked in a surprised voice and the raise of his eyebrows.
"Doesn't everybody my age?" Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle.
Oliver smiled, not so much because it was funny, but more at the effort Dumbledore was making to cheer him up.
"Anyway," Dumbledore continued, "she has been able to heal others in the past from serious injuries. Though she can only heal certain people, but after hearing your story from me, she thinks that you are a likely candidate." Dumbledore said with a slight smile.
"But, why did you tell her about me. People get hurt all the time, why me?"
He smiled. "I have seen you play Quidditch, I have seen the look in your eyes when you play. I know how much it means to you, and how much it means to the other students. I would be a fool if I didn't try to help you."
"So what do I have to do?" Oliver said in a determined voice.
"Well, first you need to pack a bag that will last you about a week,"
Oliver had a puzzled look on his face.
"She won't be coming here, you will be going there."
"Where exactly is 'there'?"
"Oh, don't worry, it's not too far from here, only about an hour or two."
Oliver nodded in understanding.
"Like I was saying, you need a bag because you will be there for about a week, maybe more. This healing process is a delicate one, one that can't be rushed."
**********
The following morning, Oliver was sent in an enchanted horseless-carriage to see if this girl could heal him. She apparently lived somewhere in the wizarding world, so the carriage was not breaking any 'no magic' rules. He didn't know anything about how she was going to heal him; actually, he didn't even know her name. He arrived at about noon. The house he arrived at wasn't really a house, but more of a large cottage. It was on a fairly large lot. The front yard looked like one big garden; there was no grass in sight, just lots and lots of flowers, and the occasional fountain.
Oliver was greeted by one who he guessed was one of the hired help. It was a middle aged woman who was wearing a maid's uniform.
"You must be Mr. Wood, glad to see you made it here safe and sound. I'll take your bags up to your room for you. Miss. Dumbledore is waiting in the parlor for you." She said very happily.
Oliver made his way to the house, while silently admiring the flowers on his way. He wasn't exactly sure where the "parlor" was, but he just followed the long hallway, toward the back of the house, and sure enough he found it. There was a girl curled up on a couch reading a book. He guessed it was his healer.
She looked to be about his age, maybe a year or so younger. She had her hair down, it was draping over her shoulders. She had shiny honey brown hair, creamy smooth skin and rich hazel eyes. Her face was delicate and her features slim. She looked to be about 5'4", and as far as he could tell from across the room, she was gorgeous. At that moment she looked up from her book and saw Oliver. She put down her book and took off her reading glasses. As soon as he saw how beautiful she really was, he suddenly became shy, and somewhat embarrassed. He also took a sudden liking to the look of the floor.
"You must be Oliver." She said with a cheery voice in such a way that was a dead give away that she was related to Professor Dumbledore.
Oliver was surprised when she had a mostly American accent, with only the slightest hint of English.
He was still looking at the floor and simply nodded his head in reply.
"My name's.. Um.. Am I going to have to talk to your forehead for the rest of your stay?" She said with a little giggle.
Oliver slowly raised his head.
"Wow," she said simply in amazement.
"Never seen someone in a wheel chair before?" He said with a slight cringe.
"No, it's not that. It's just.you have the most beautiful eyes I think I have ever seen." she said looking deeply into his eyes.
Oliver blushed.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, "As I was saying, my name's Serenity.but you can call me Sarah."
"Well, I'm Oliver and you can call me.Oliver." He felt his self-conciseness begin to melt away.
"Come. Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please."
She sat at the chair that was in front of the coffee table; he rolled over, and sat across from her.
The question that had been nagging at him for the past day and a half suddenly pushed its way to the surface.
"Um, Sarah, how exactly.do you plan on healing me?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Note: This takes place around Harry's first year. I have changed some of the things that are found in the books, so please don't review trying to correct me.
Rating: PG for slight, tasteful, sensuality.
Enjoy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a cool day in November. Exactly two weeks after it happened. He sat in his room, looking out the window, reliving the moment; the moment that would change his life forever.
It was a typical Quidditch match against Slitheren, or so it seemed. It was fifteen minutes into the game; the score was 10-10. Oliver was hovering by the goal posts when he noticed the Slitheren's new chaser coming at him, full speed, with rage in his eyes. That was all Oliver could remember before the fall. The chaser hit him so hard he flew off his broom. Oliver had fallen before, but never because he had been forced off his broom. Falling those fifty feet seemed like an eternity. When he finally hit the ground he heard something shatter, almost like glass. But it wasn't. He realized it was his leg when the sudden pain became too much to bear. He screamed out in pain right before he passed out. He woke up in the hospital wing two days later. But when he opened his eyes, and tried to get out of bed, he couldn't feel his left leg. The doctor said that he would probably never be able to walk on that leg again. And that that was the last time he would ever mount a broom. How could he go on living not playing Quidditch? It was his life, and had been since he could remember.
He shuttered just thinking about what happened. About how his life was over, about how he would never feel happy again. And about the fact that the so-powerful magic that he has grown to learn, could not do a thing to help him. Broken, even fractured, bones could be regrown, but not shattered ones. He sat up straight in his wheel chair and began to wheel around his room in circles, (he would pace if he could walk) it was the only thing he could do to stop from crying. He looked at all the cards, flowers, and candy, he had gotten from people. The people who cared about him, and the people he was letting down. He looked up at the clock, and decided to get going because he didn't want to be late.
Dumbledore had asked Oliver to come to his office today at 1:00pm. Oliver didn't know why, since he had never been called there before. In fact, he wasn't sure if he even knew where it was. But eventually he did find it, and yes, he was on time. He knocked on the huge oak double-doors. He only had to wait about ten seconds to get the response to come, but it was a rather long ten seconds in his mind.
Oliver rolled into the office with little difficulty; he was beginning it get the hang of the whole wheel chair thing. It was fairly large, and beautifully decorated. It looked like a huge library with walls about thirty feet tall that were giant bookcases that were packed to the seams with books. In one corner of the office was a desk that looked miniature compared to the rest of the room. Dumbledore was in the middle of writing something when he looked up and saw Oliver.
"You don't have to stay so far away, I don't bite." Dumbledore said in his normal cheery, yet somewhat quiet voice.
Oliver rolled closer. At this point he was vastly confused because he still didn't know why he had been called in.
"Am I in trouble, sir?" Oliver asked honestly.
Dumbledore's smile faded and his face immediately became serious.
"No, you're not in trouble, Oliver." Dumbledore paused, trying to select his words carefully.
"The reason I asked you here is," He paused. ".in regards to your injury."
Oliver looked down, trying to hide the sadness that had suddenly overtaken his face.
Dumbledore went on.
"I know someone who may be able to.heal you."
Oliver's head shot up at the word "heal".
"WHO?" Oliver said with his eyes as big as the moon.
"She is actually one of my granddaughters."
"You have kids?" Oliver asked in a surprised voice and the raise of his eyebrows.
"Doesn't everybody my age?" Dumbledore said with a slight chuckle.
Oliver smiled, not so much because it was funny, but more at the effort Dumbledore was making to cheer him up.
"Anyway," Dumbledore continued, "she has been able to heal others in the past from serious injuries. Though she can only heal certain people, but after hearing your story from me, she thinks that you are a likely candidate." Dumbledore said with a slight smile.
"But, why did you tell her about me. People get hurt all the time, why me?"
He smiled. "I have seen you play Quidditch, I have seen the look in your eyes when you play. I know how much it means to you, and how much it means to the other students. I would be a fool if I didn't try to help you."
"So what do I have to do?" Oliver said in a determined voice.
"Well, first you need to pack a bag that will last you about a week,"
Oliver had a puzzled look on his face.
"She won't be coming here, you will be going there."
"Where exactly is 'there'?"
"Oh, don't worry, it's not too far from here, only about an hour or two."
Oliver nodded in understanding.
"Like I was saying, you need a bag because you will be there for about a week, maybe more. This healing process is a delicate one, one that can't be rushed."
**********
The following morning, Oliver was sent in an enchanted horseless-carriage to see if this girl could heal him. She apparently lived somewhere in the wizarding world, so the carriage was not breaking any 'no magic' rules. He didn't know anything about how she was going to heal him; actually, he didn't even know her name. He arrived at about noon. The house he arrived at wasn't really a house, but more of a large cottage. It was on a fairly large lot. The front yard looked like one big garden; there was no grass in sight, just lots and lots of flowers, and the occasional fountain.
Oliver was greeted by one who he guessed was one of the hired help. It was a middle aged woman who was wearing a maid's uniform.
"You must be Mr. Wood, glad to see you made it here safe and sound. I'll take your bags up to your room for you. Miss. Dumbledore is waiting in the parlor for you." She said very happily.
Oliver made his way to the house, while silently admiring the flowers on his way. He wasn't exactly sure where the "parlor" was, but he just followed the long hallway, toward the back of the house, and sure enough he found it. There was a girl curled up on a couch reading a book. He guessed it was his healer.
She looked to be about his age, maybe a year or so younger. She had her hair down, it was draping over her shoulders. She had shiny honey brown hair, creamy smooth skin and rich hazel eyes. Her face was delicate and her features slim. She looked to be about 5'4", and as far as he could tell from across the room, she was gorgeous. At that moment she looked up from her book and saw Oliver. She put down her book and took off her reading glasses. As soon as he saw how beautiful she really was, he suddenly became shy, and somewhat embarrassed. He also took a sudden liking to the look of the floor.
"You must be Oliver." She said with a cheery voice in such a way that was a dead give away that she was related to Professor Dumbledore.
Oliver was surprised when she had a mostly American accent, with only the slightest hint of English.
He was still looking at the floor and simply nodded his head in reply.
"My name's.. Um.. Am I going to have to talk to your forehead for the rest of your stay?" She said with a little giggle.
Oliver slowly raised his head.
"Wow," she said simply in amazement.
"Never seen someone in a wheel chair before?" He said with a slight cringe.
"No, it's not that. It's just.you have the most beautiful eyes I think I have ever seen." she said looking deeply into his eyes.
Oliver blushed.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, "As I was saying, my name's Serenity.but you can call me Sarah."
"Well, I'm Oliver and you can call me.Oliver." He felt his self-conciseness begin to melt away.
"Come. Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please."
She sat at the chair that was in front of the coffee table; he rolled over, and sat across from her.
The question that had been nagging at him for the past day and a half suddenly pushed its way to the surface.
"Um, Sarah, how exactly.do you plan on healing me?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~