Getting up, he dusted off his robes, and then strode through the Hogwarts gates. He looked at his watch and saw that it was indeed 11:15. For a few moments, he contemplated going back to the Common Room and surprising Alison, but instead, he decided to walk down to the Quidditch Pitch first and check if Sirius was there. As he walked towards what he considered his second home, he marveled at the remarkable relationship that he had managed to cultivate with Sirius. At first, he hadn't though it would be possible for him to get along with someone like Sirius, but as time wore on, he realized that what the media had conveniently forgotten to mention was what a good person Sirius Black actually was. Not that they could be blamed entirely. No, that blame could only belong to Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail. Oliver had been shocked when the story of Wormtail's betrayal had been revealed to him. He could not imagine betraying Alison, not even in his wildest dreams. When he neared the Quidditch pitch, he veered off the path, into a clump of bushes that lay a good twenty metres off to the left. Sure enough, in the clump of bushed, Oliver found Sirius and Harry talking softly about something. On seeing Oliver, they jumped up and began to fire questions at him concerning how his try out had gone. Grinning widely, Oliver told them that Jason Carlson had seemed quite happy when he bid him farewell. Before long, the three of them were completely immersed in a conversation that went into the tiniest nuances of the most popular wizard sport and as Oliver described it, 'the best sport in the world!'
An hour later, Oliver casually glanced down at his watch and to his disquiet, saw that it was now a quarter past midnight. Alison should have been there fifteen minutes earlier. Oliver didn't know why, but when he realized that Alison was late, a chilling tingle ran down the length of his spine and he knew, in his bones that something was very wrong. Both Harry and Sirius noticed that Oliver had gone awfully pale, and when Oliver explained the cause of his worry, a look of anxiety appeared on Sirius's face. After a moment of awkward hesitation, Harry jumped up from where he was sitting on the ground and turning to Sirius said, 'Marauder's Map.'
Sirius looked at Harry with a look of disbelief on his face and he groped for words. Finally, he gave up, and gestured for Harry to lead the way into the castle. On the way there, Sirius explained to a very perplexed Oliver what the Marauder's Map was. Oliver's eyes widened as he learnt of this incredible map, and he thanked the lord that the Weasley twins had never got their hands on it. Little did he know…
Oliver watched in amazement as Harry tapped his wand on a piece of faded yellow parchment and tiny spidery green lines bloomed over the paper. Even more fascinating were the tiny little dots moving over the paper, with minute handwriting beneath them. Quickly, Oliver and Harry tried to locate Alison on the piece of parchment, and Sirius, being unable to help in his canine form, had to be content with just watching them. Suddenly, Oliver saw her…and he saw who was with her. His heart began to pound as he turned on heel and rushed out of the Gryffindor Common Room. He ran like he had never run before and tried to keep his mind from drifting to the most painful ways to hurt Flint. He knew the corridor that Alison had taken; it was an out of the way passageway that led almost directly from the Potions classroom to the Gryffindor Common Room. As he ran, he could hear Harry and Sirius behind him, calling to him to slow down. But Oliver only ran faster, his legs fuelled by the growing hatred within him. When he rounded the last corner, he let out a cry of anguish. He was too late.
He fell to his knees before Alison's bruised, naked body, and gently, tenderly, he ran his finger along the length of her cheekbone. Softly, he brushed his lips against Alison's, but still, she did not stir. Her face was pale and her normally sleek hair was matted with caked blood. Wrapping her torn robes around her body as best he could, he lifted her up off the ground, and tried to quell his growing panic at the stillness of her cold body. It was as he was lifting her up that Harry and Sirius appeared. Harry's face went white at the sight of Alison's lifeless body. He stopped in his tracks as though frozen. Sirius growled and in an instant, changed back to his human form. He leaped forward at Oliver and when he saw Alison's scarred body, he could not and didn't attempt to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. It was this sad procession that made its way towards the hospital wing. All three faces were as gaunt as ghosts and Oliver could feel the hate swelling up inside him, threatening to burst. *Later,* he thought, *I'll deal with Flint later.*
Madam Pomfrey was so shocked when she saw Alison that she didn't question the presence of a dog in the midst of the procession. She directed Oliver to lay Alison down on a bed in the far corner of the room. Drawing the curtains around the bed where Alison lay, she conjured up a bowl of hot water and gently, washed away the blood from Alison's cuts. Had Oliver seen the bruises on the lower parts of Alison's body where the assault had taken place, he would not have been able to control his rage. Madam Pomfrey had been around for eons, but never had she seen a rape as brutal as this, if the evidence was anything to go on. However, Madam Pomfrey feared that the worst damages were internal. When she had done her best to wash away the blood, she covered Alison with two thick blankets and then left her to sleep. For sleeping she was…Madame Pomfrey knew enough to tell the difference between a deep slumber and the stillness of death.
Oliver knew not how long he sat there, his head in his hands, praying with all his heart for Alison to come around. He drifted in and out of what seemed to him like a surrealistic nightmare, his waking hours interspersed with gruesome images of what Flint might have done to Alison, if the bruises on her body were anything to go by. Suddenly, Alison stirred and instantly, Oliver was on his knees beside her, pleading with her to open her eyes. He had all but given u, when her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the harsh light that was streaming from the windows into the hospital wing. When she saw Oliver leaning in to kiss her, she opened her mouth and yelped in pain, while at the same time propelling herself backwards. Startled, Oliver drew back, and stared at Alison in shock. Alison's breathing was coming in ragged gasps, as she screamed bloody murder. Sirius, who until now, had been reclining on the floor in his canine form, sprang up, and jumped onto the bed with Alison. Flinging her arms around her father, Alison buried her face in his fur and wept piteously. Through her sobs, Oliver could make out the words, 'it was him, daddy. I called for you over and over, daddy, and you never came…when he was hurting me, you never came. Kill him, daddy…it was Oliver, KILL HIM DADDY!!!' The last three words were shrieked in a bloodcurdling scream that made Oliver's blood run cold. Sirius advanced on Oliver, his heckles raised and his teeth bared, as Alison collapsed back onto the pillow, the tears streaming down the sides of her face. Harry, who had until that moment, been sitting in a corner, his ears ringing with the allegations being tossed at Oliver, jumped up and stood firmly in front of Oliver as if to say, 'If you want him, you're going to have to go through him.' Sirius hesitated slightly when he saw Harry's determined stance, and then, slowly, he backed way, his heckles still raised and his teeth still glinting ferociously in the sunlight.
At that moment, Madame Pomfrey came rushing up to them. When she saw Alison with her head buried in her knees, her shoulders racking with sobs, she caught hold of the growling, albeit incredibly surprised dog by the scruff of its neck and then dragged it out of the Hospital Wing. When she came back, she did the same with both Oliver and Harry despite their pleas to stay with the 'patient'. When she slammed the door to the hospital wing shut in their faces, both of them knew that there was no point trying to go back to in. They turned to see Sirius, or rather Padfoot sitting beside them, his canine head hung in despair. Then, suddenly, as though coming out of a trance, he noticed Oliver standing tantalizingly close to him. Immediately, a deep snarl began to sound from deep within his throat. Oliver looked at him and said, 'I swear, Sirius, I didn't do it. I swear I didn't. I was with Jason Carlson and then…and then, I took a portkey back here. The moment I got here, I joined you and Harry outside the Quidditch Pitch. The dog looked up at him, almost quizzically, and then as though reaching some sort of a resolution, led the way to an oak paneled door. Oliver's eyes widened as he read the brass nameplate on the door: Professor Lupin.
Before Oliver's eyes, the shaggy dog returned to his human state wand without glancing at either Harry or Oliver, knocked softly but firmly on the door. Seconds later, a very haggard Professor Lupin opened the door, his hair standing on end. But when he saw Sirius standing there in the flesh, accompanied by the stars of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the day before the deciding match against Slytherin, all the sleep was vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Without waiting for Lupin to get over his shock, Sirius strode into his room. Harry was the last to enter and closed and locked the door securely behind him. He turned back to see Sirius sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Lupin sat down beside him and softly asked what the matter was. As Sirius told him of how they had found Alison and of Madame Pomfrey's confirmation that Sirius's worst nightmare had been realized and that Alison had indeed been raped…as Sirius told one of his closest friends this, his voice grew raspier, until he could barely be understood between the sobs. Lupin's face paled in horror as Sirius described the wounds on Alison's arms and legs. When Sirius was finally finished, Lupin asked, 'Padfoot, I know this is hard for you, but you have to pull yourself together…for your daughter's sake.' Then, after an awkward pause where the convict's sobs were the only sounds breaking the silence, Lupin continued, 'Do you know who it was?'
Taking a deep breath, Sirius looked straight at Oliver and said, 'Alison said it was him.' At these words, Oliver felt the wind being knocked out of him. All his hope that Sirius would think about how impossible it would have been for him to commit such a crime faded into the distance. But Sirius's next words were completely unexpected.
In a soft voice, Sirius continued, 'But I don't think it was him. It couldn't be. Oliver was right there with us, from a quarter past eleven to the moment when we found her.'
At this point, Lupin broke in and said, 'what about before that…can you vouch for where he was before that?' Sirius's face darkened as he contemplated this new theory. Feeling that he ought to say something in his own defense, Oliver stepped forward and said, 'I was in Puddlemere, sir, with Jason Carlson, trying out for the keeper's position on their Quidditch team. I was there till 11:15, and then, I took a portkey back…I promise you, Sirius, I would never, ever, hurt your daughter. I love her, and I would never hurt her.'
Lupin's eyes narrowed, and he questioned, 'well, do you have any proof that you were, indeed, in Puddlemere till a quarter past eleven?'
Oliver was about to shake his head in despair, when he remembered the note that Jason Carlson had written for him. He fished it out of his pocket and held it out. Sirius and Lupin read the note and then, the professor walked over to the fireplace. He pulled out some sparkling blue powder from a small leather pouch and tossed it into the flames. Simultaneously, the flames turned blue, and a headless voice proclaimed, 'This is the Interfloo network, Mr. Lupin. How may we be of service today.'
Briskly, Lupin replied, 'Get me Jason Carlson, in Puddlemere.'
The bodiless voice hesitated slightly, before saying, 'the Quidditch captain, sir?'
'Yes, the Quidditch captain!' snapped Lupin.
The voice fell quiet, and Oliver began to wonder if the connection had been broken. Just as he was about to voice his doubts, a spinning orb formed in the midst of the dancing flames, and when it came to a halt, Oliver's mouth fell open.
Jason Carlson's head seemed to be hovering in mid air, dangerously close to the hungry flames. Stepping in front of Sirius so as not to alarm Jason, Lupin asked, 'Mr. Carlson…'
Jason interrupted, 'Please…call me Jason'
'Very well. Jason, I must ask if Oliver Wood was with you until a quarter past eleven tonight.'
Cheerily, the head replied, 'Yup…he was, and a damn good Keeper he is too!'
Trying to prevent the relief that was washing over him from showing on his face, Lupin thanked the head and apologized for bothering him. The head disappeared in the same manner that it had appeared, and a very apologetic Lupin turned to Oliver. Slowly, he said, 'I apologize for jumping to the most obvious conclusion, Oliver…' but he was silenced when Sirius enveloped the rather startled Oliver in a bear hug. As though suddenly remembering something, Sirius pulled away and asked, 'Who was it Oliver? Whose name did you see on the map?'
Oliver hesitated slightly and then replied, 'Flint…Marcus Flint.'
Harry gasped audibly, but both Sirius and Remus chose to ignore him for the moment. Furrowing his eyebrows, Remus asked, 'Flint…isn't he the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team? Why on earth would he do something like this?'
Looking down at the ground, Oliver whispered, 'It's my fault that any of this happened. Flint's tried before…he's never succeeded…till now that is. I should never have gone for that try out in the first place…I should've known that he would try again. I promised to look after her, and I've failed…I've failed so miserably.' He collapsed onto the bed, his head throbbing with all the 'what ifs'. But he knew it was no good…he knew that what was done was done, and nothing could turn back time.
Sirius sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand around his shoulders, and told him not to be so hard on himself. Lupin, however, was standing by the fire, staring into the dancing flames, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. Suddenly, he turned to the other three in the room and said, 'I think I've figured out why Alison thinks it was Oliver. But you have to show me where you found her, before I can be totally sure.'
Five minutes later, they were back in the corridor where they had first found Alison's battered body. Lupin's sharp eyes picked up something that the other three had not noticed in their grief. For there, in the darkest corner, lay the remains of a broken bottle. And upon further examination, Lupin found the minutest drop of the liquid that Oliver/Flint had consumed. Pulling out his wand, he fixed the bottle and transferred the liquid into it. With a grim expression on his face, he turned to his companions who had been watching him in amazement and said two words that sent shivers down all of their spines: 'Polyjuice Potion'.
*****
Alison buried her head in her knees as Madame Pomfrey led Sirius, Harry and Oliver out of the Hospital wing with firm determination. Her body ached and even though she was covered with two sets of fluffy down blankets, she felt naked. When Madame Pomfrey returned to give Alison something to help her sleep better, she found, to her pleasant surprise, that Alison was already fast asleep.
When Alison awoke, the pain that had she had been so blissfully unaware of while she slept returned with a vengeance. She moaned softly, and tried to arrange herself into a more comfortable position, but try as she might, she could not. She tried to think about something pleasant, like flowers, or music, but her mind kept returning to the mad gleam in Oliver's eyes as he had thrust into her, time after time after time. His eyes had looked so unfamiliar, their brown depths seemed murky, almost, and she shuddered at this thought, almost like Flint's eyes. She struggled to think of Oliver as the villain, the cruel sadistic person who had handcuffed her, and hurt her in all the ways imaginable. She had heard somewhere that the best way to get over something was to obtain closure. Closure, in this case, meant reliving every second of that terrible hour, but she knew that she would have to do it sooner or later. Determined to be strong, Alison forced her mind to peruse the murky depths of that hour during which everything Alison had believed in had been shattered. Shattered like that bottle that Oliver had dropped to the ground before he had launched his assault on her.
Now that Alison thought about it, she wondered what the contents of the bottle had been. The rational part of her brain was telling her that it was completely unimportant, but something inside her convinced her to try and remember what the liquid inside the bottle had looked like. It had been slime green, and it had appeared quite glutinous. The word glutinous rang in her ears, and it seemed to strike a bell…she just wasn't sure what her mind was associating it with. Then suddenly, like someone pulling the veil out from over her eyes, she realized what the liquid had been…it had been Polyjuice Potion. She gasped slightly, causing the Nurse to look at her in concern. But as Alison didn't seem to be in any huge amount of pain, she decided to leave her alone.
Alison tried to arrange her thoughts…the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the liquid had been Polyjuice Potion. And as she racked her brain for anything and everything else that struck her as being unusual during the brutal rape, the pieces of what had been a very confusing jigsaw puzzle fell slowly into place. She had noticed that Oliver's voice had sounded like he had a cold, when he spoke…his voice had been nasal, and slightly more high-pitched than usual. The Scottish accent had seemed strained at times, not least when he was cuffing her hands together. Then she remembered something that convinced Alison that it had indeed been someone other than Oliver. Oliver knew who she was…but in the corridor the previous night, he had called her Adams. Oliver knew that she was Alison Black, not Alison Adams as she pretended to the rest of the world. No one else knew that. The new revelations left Alison's head spinning and she squeezed her eyes shut. The thought of sleep seemed tantalizing, but she knew that she had to go on, that she had to achieve closure.
She ran through the rest of the hour, and sure enough, she noticed several discrepancies that just didn't tally with what she knew about Oliver. She had reached the point where all the memories appeared to be hazy and unclear, but as she reached over to pick up the glass of water that lay by the side of her bed, something flashed in front of her eyes, shocking her with its clarity. She remembered seeing a flash of blonde hair around the corner and hearing a voice saying, 'she's definitely not going to play in the match tomorrow.' And as she remembered the words and put all the pieces together, the whole picture was revealed to her, making her skin crawl at the cold manipulation that had gone into the whole thing. She should have known that it had been him all along. She couldn't believe that she hadn't recognized the internal stench of Marcus Flint.
Shaken by the awful truth, she buried her head in her pillow and wept. She wept for herself, and she wept for Oliver. She had accused him of a crime that he was completely incapable of committing. She was startled from her tears by the reappearance of her father, Harry and Professor Lupin. But Oliver was nowhere to be seen. Her father began to speak, but Alison interrupted him. Trying to keep her voice from breaking, she asked, 'where's Ollie, daddy?'
Startled by this sudden change in her attitude towards Oliver, Sirius stammered, 'we-well…he's outside, we thought it might be better if we explained what actually happened before he came in to see you…'
Alison cut in, demanding that Oliver be let in. unsure of what to expect and wondering if the events of the past few hours had severely unhinged his daughter, Sirius beckoned for Oliver to enter. When he was standing by Alison's bedside, unable to look her in the eye, and instead staring down at his feet, Alison requested the other three to leave them alone for a few minutes. Oliver looked puzzled and slightly apprehensive. He hadn't imagined that Alison would want to spend any length of time alone with him, considering what she didn't know.
When the other three had left, Alison moved over slightly, and then patted the bed beside her, gesturing for Oliver to sit down next to her. He did so and an awkward silence ensued. Finally, the silence was shattered by Alison taking Oliver's hand, and saying, 'I know it wasn't you, Oliver…I was thinking about it, and I know it wasn't you. it was someone else…with Polyjuice Potion.' Oliver stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted. He could not believe that Alison had managed to figure this out, all while lying in her bed. However, he let her continue. 'And Oliver, I think I know who it was…it was Flint. Just like last time, it was Flint. But he wasn't alone. Draco was with him…the two of them planned the whole thing. Flint got me in detention last night. What a shocking coincidence that the match against the Slytherins happens to be tomorrow.'
Oliver gaped at what Alison was implying…that Draco and Flint had set up the whole thing to prevent Alison and hopefully Oliver as well, from playing against them. The shock soon ebbed away to be replaced by the all too familiar feeling of rage.
Alison obviously recognized what Oliver was feeling, because her grip on his hand tightened, and she whispered, 'Oliver, I am going to play today. I can play just as well as if none of this had ever happened. You have got to let Madame Pomfrey let me play. If I don't, Flint and Malfoy, they'll get exactly what they wanted.'
