Chasing Oliver

~By Pixie~

Chapter Eight : Melancholia.

That day, that day
When everything was a mess
And everything was in place
And there's too much hurt
Sad, small, scared, alone
And everyone's a cynic
And it's hard and it's sweet
But it's supposed
To be like this

That day, that day
When I sat in the sun
And I thought and I cried
'Cause I'm sad, scared, small
Alone, strong
And I'm nothing
And I'm true
Only a brave man
Can break through
And it's all okay
Yeah, it's okay

"That Day (Moment of Clarity)" –Natalie Imbruglia.

Caoilin made her way back to the Gryffindor Tower without a problem, despite her unseeing way. Thankful for the weekend causing the common room to be deserted, she curled up in the window seat. She rested her head against the cool window wishing she could disappear.

Oliver abruptly almost fell into the common room and rushed over to her, but slowed when he saw the pained expression on her small face. The sunlight bathed her light features in a pale gold, and her eyes squinted against the glare. He approached more cautiously now, as if trying to get closer to a wild animal.

"Caoilin?" he said softly, almost scared; she was as still as the dead. Immediately, Caoilin opened her eyes and turned towards him.

"You better go," she said in her bold tone, but even that couldn't hold the tears that were growing in her eyes from spilling. They ran like tiny river down her porcelain cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands in embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, sitting down next to her.

"It's nothing," she mumbled.

"It can't honestly be nothing if you're crying,"

Caoilin knew she was cornered. This time Caoilin NicBrádaigh would have to tell her little sob story that she hated so much. Taking a deep breath in, she gained a decent amount of composure and looked steadily at Oliver. Yes, she could trust him. Even if he didn't care about her, she could trust him.

"You're right, it's not nothing," Caoilin declared "a long time ago, when I was about five, my grandmother would look after me when my parents went away on business. She was a Muggle, but she followed the Druid faith. I loved staying with her, and sometimes wished my parents would go away more often. When they left, Mamó would come and stay in our house, and we'd go for walks to the coast if the weather was fair in the afternoon."

She took a deep breath, ploughing on before she lost her poise "But one day after my parents had left for a trip and Mamó  had arrived, I woke up early and ran to her room to wake her up. We were supposed to be picking chamomile for a balm she was going to make that day. But, she-she wasn't going to wake up,"

"What do you mean," Oliver interjected.

"She was dead," Caoilin said in a flat toned voice. Her eyes welled up again, and she knew she had to keep going or she'd burst out crying. "Then my mother and father came home early and we had the funeral. But every time after that, when they went away someone else from in town would stay with me, but I didn't want to know them so I just started ignoring them. That's why I don't want to get close to people. That's why everyone leaves. They just do, whether they intend to or not. Why care, it's only going to hurt more."

Oliver opened his mouth to attempt to say something to console her, but she dashed off to the dormitories before he could speak a word. He sat there for a bit, trying to take in all he'd been told. Sighing, he moved to sit on a couch. This was getting too confusing. What other secrets was Caoilin hoarding up? Reflectively, he did admire her for her strength, but through that bold exterior Oliver could now see she did in fact have a soul. One that just happened to be in pain that was forgotten. 

~*~

Caoilin dove into her bed, and laid there curled up in her blankets a sense of cold sweeping over her. She felt small, and insignificant in that moment. Never in her life had she ever told anyone what had happened to her Mamó. Never. And now she felt like since the words had left her mouth that the pain she'd been keeping hidden for ages had be released like a dam. There wasn't anything she could do but hope she cried herself to sleep quickly, rather than slowly.

Alone in the dormitory, Caoilin resembled a sleeping doll after her sobs had subsided and finally she slept. Her dreams were full of pain and anguish, a replay of her Mamó lying lifelessly before her haunted her. So small at that time, she had been refused to be allowed to go to the funeral and Caoilin had thrown a massive tantrum, ending in a broken window and banishment to her room for a few days.

But for now she slept, as the horrible nightmare passed, her sleep became more relaxed and dreamless. Perhaps one day she would be greeted with sleep such as this, but if she were conscious she would have doubted it. There is not much to hope for when you are alone.

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A/N: Sorry guys, I know its so tiny and pathetic. I also, have a sob story to recify my idiocy.

Alright, ff.net blocked me from uploading for about a week and a half. Now I sorta have a case of writers block, and I'm going insane. But, I felt inclined to try and post something for you guys considering you were all SO fantastic with your reviews. Honestly, I was really over the moon and really annoyed then when I couldn't post for ages.

I have an inquiry: Would someone (preferably with experience but it's not nesicary) be willing to BETA read for me? I'm always on MSN, …well, a fair bit anyway so I can be contacted at kat_57_11@hotmail.com if you could help me out there. Thanks.

The next chapter will hopefully be posted soon, and will definitely be longer. Thanks again for reviewing!

Also: Granny : Mamó (MA-moe, moe rhymes with so).

Sorry this is so long.

~Pixie~