And just because I'm not sure when the next chapter will go up, I'm putting a third one in the mix. Finally we get a glimpse into Oliver's inner turmoil... And before I forget - again - I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed Saving Iris! Really appreciated!
Oliver rushed down the street towards the flat. He had just had another busy day at the Quidditch League's temporary offices. They were determined to get the league up and going again in time for the new season to open over the summer. As one of three players returning to Puddlemere United, he had been recruited with helping the new coach rebuild the team. He went in to sign his new contract and help set a game plan for filling the open spots on the team, plus discuss the plans to rebuild the stadium.
Truth be told, he was happy for the distraction. The time spent focusing on Quidditch was less time dwelling on the past year and all the heartache it had brought. It was also less time spent with Iris and her soul-piercing eyes and veiled questions to try and get him to talk. He didn't fault her - he knew she was concerned about him. He knew she was aware of everything he felt. And he wasn't helping by refusing to even address anything remotely related to their year apart. But he didn't want to talk about it. It was bad enough he had to deal with the nightmares every night. He knew his thrashing woke her up as well. But she never mentioned it, most likely not wanting to cause him to worry any more than he already did. He still felt guilty about it, though.
At first he had been deliriously happy they were reunited. That first week afterwards, he wouldn't leave her side, worried that if he looked away for just a minute she would disappear again. But once the honeymoon period had ended and he had been forced to face the reality of the post-war world, he felt adrift. Sure working with the league gave him a purpose to focus on, but it didn't change the fact that too many loved ones were no longer there. Or that he had survived while they did not.
He squared his jaw as thoughts of Lupin, Tonks and Fred returned. All the faces of the lost drifted through his mind. He had carried Colin Creevy into the Great Hall. Found Katie Bell half-buried under some rubble. He watched Lupin and Tonks die. He went to every single memorial service, hating that he didn't do a single damn thing to save any of them. Of course, it was ridiculous of him to put that blame on himself. Even he knew that, but he couldn't help thinking - especially with Tonks and Lupin - that if he had just gotten there faster, he could have done something. Or that Iris could have. He had seen her in the courtyard, putting up shields to protect everyone around. If she had just been there sooner, she could have saved so many more.
Oliver sighed and shook his head. He knew it wasn't fair to blame her. It was out of her control. She couldn't have willed herself to wake up from her coma sooner, and even if she had, there was no telling if she would have been in full control of herself. He had seen firsthand the devastating effects of using it too soon had had. It didn't help that the only reason she had tried was to save him after he had foolishly walked into a trap set by Brom.
But that was in the past. She was back. They were together. And they had a whole future together. If that's what they wanted anymore. He couldn't help but feel that now she didn't need to hide, that she might want to go out and attempt a life on her own. The thought terrified him. Even though he had been pushing her away, he also couldn't stand the thought of her leaving.
"Oliver!" someone shouted. Wood looked up, catching sight of a flash of red hair. George walked towards him, smiling. "Good, I caught you." Oliver smiled.
"Coming over for dinner again?" he asked as the ginger man fell into step with him.
"It beats whatever food Ron tries cooking," he said. "Plus your place is a bit more airy than mine." Oliver nodded, glancing over at his friend. While he looked better, he knew that losing Fred was taking its toll on him. More often than not he would find his way over to his flat to escape the place he used to share with Fred. Ron had moved in, but with all the work he had been doing in the auror department with Harry, he wasn't around much.
"Iris will be happy," Oliver said as they neared his building. "I think she's starting to get a bit bored. Harry's always off working for the Ministry and well, the league is keeping me fairly busy. She's already visited every shop open in the Alley too."
"Surprised she hasn't gone out and gotten a job yet," George said. Oliver shrugged. He was surprised as well. But then again, they hadn't really been talking much so he wasn't sure why. "Maybe I should look into opening the shop again… maybe get her to help me out." Oliver looked over at him, surprised.
"You're thinking about it?" he asked. George nodded.
"About time, I suppose. Everything else in Diagon Alley is starting to reopen. If I wait too long, another joke shop may open up and steal all my business," he said.
"Well, she'd most likely consider it, if you do," Oliver said. "Would be good for her. I can tell she's getting restless just sitting around the flat all day. I think she's cleaned it top to bottom about 20 times over now."
"How are things with you two? Will we hear wedding bells anytime soon?" George joked. Oliver laughed, though it came out a bit forced. His future with Iris was a bit of a touchy subject. Though even his own mother was asking in nearly every owl she had sent since they stayed with them.
"Ehm, alright I suppose. We haven't really talked about it," Oliver said. George glanced at him, sensing Oliver's hesitation to get into it.
"Well… you did spend a year a part. Only natural you might need sometime to get to know each other again," he said. Oliver nodded, thankful to see the door to his building ahead. He really didn't want to get into their problems. Not with George.
"Here we are," he said, holding the door open for George. He shook his head, pushing all thoughts of his future out of his head. At least for then.
Iris turned as she heard the front door open, walking through the opened French window into the living room. She left it open, allowing the early fall breeze to flow into the flat. Oliver wasn't lying when he said he had a large flat all to himself. How he had afforded it, she would never know. Apparently Quidditch did pay well, even though he hadn't even made it through his first season off the reserve team. The first floor was made of a two-story open living room, dining room and kitchen combo with three floor to ceiling French windows that opened to a balcony overlooking the street. A corridor next to the kitchen led to a staircase going up behind the kitchen that led to a small library that overlooked the living room. Beyond that staircase was a bedroom, the front door, and a small bathroom with the master suite located at the end of the corridor past another set of stairs that led up to a third bedroom and another bathroom. The first set led up to a small open library that overlooked the living room. Harry had taken up residence upstairs, while Oliver and Iris were in the master suite on the first floor. The living room was big enough to hold a large table with eight settings that could be increased to fit more, plus a large, comfy leather couch and matching chair that sat in front of a large fireplace. Even still, it seemed nearly empty with all the space. Iris was determined to start filling the walls as soon as she could.
"Ehm, look who I found on my way home," Oliver said brightly as he appeared from the corridor. He stepped behind the island into the kitchen area, revealing George behind him. Iris smiled and walked over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug.
"What's this make? Three times this week you've come 'round for dinner? I'm beginning to think you've forgotten how to cook," she joked as she let go of him, grinning. George shrugged.
"To be honest, you're a much better cook than I am," he said. "Nearly burned down the building the last time I tried to make porridge." He chuckled softly. Iris grinned, though she felt her chest tighten slightly. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. George was doing as well as anyone could expect. He laughed from time to time. Made jokes. But it seemed as though he was only part of who he used to be now that Fred was gone. He would come over to their flat often in the evenings. Iris suspected it was because it has hard for him to be at the place that he used to share with Fred. He couldn't get himself to move elsewhere and yet, couldn't stand to be there too long alone. Harry had said George often stayed up late into night in the parlour. Just staring into the fireplace and drinking. Then spent most of the day sleeping. Though it wasn't as bad the nights he came over to their flat. Iris looked at Oliver, the two sharing a concerned look as George walked over to the sofa and sat.
"So, what's for dinner tonight?" he asked, a bit more cheerfully.
"Ask Oliver. It's his turn to cook," she said, grinning over at Oliver. Oliver shrugged.
"Suppose I should get at it. Is Harry joining us?" he asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine. He's been working late again this week," Iris called. Oliver nodded, setting to work extracting various ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry. "How was your day? Meeting go well?" she called as she walked into the kitchen behind him, retrieving three beers from the fridge.
"Yea, it went well, though lots of work to be done. Need to rebuild most of the stadiums and a fair amount of the teams. They all lost a few players," he stopped a moment, a grimace coming across his face. Iris furrowed her brow and handed him one of the bottles. He shook his head and smiled, taking it. But like George, his smile never quite reached his eyes.
"Planning to have everything ready to start up the season this summer. Practices should start up in the spring after they finish up tryouts and recruiting. They offered me my old position. In the meantime, I'm to help the Puddlemere coach. I'm one of the few players coming back," another grimace, "But luckily we have some good prospects from reserves and a decent list of players to scout, once we locate them, that is," he said, popping the top off. He smiled, this one a bit more genuine. "How'd you feel with box seats at every Puddlemere match?" Iris laughed.
"I'd love it," she said.
"Don't forget me!" George called from the living room. Iris laughed again as she walked back in and handed him a beer.
"Of course not, mate," Oliver said.
"You think we could get Percy to come to a few matches?" Iris asked. She had been talking to him a bit more since Hogwarts, finding solace in her newfound friendship with yet another Weasley. She'd meet him for lunch occasionally. Despite his stiff exterior, she found he was a remarkable listener and prone to offer the occasional joke. He had delightfully dry sense of humor in the right company.
"If you can drag him away from the Ministry long enough," George said. "Granted, Shacklebolt is not as obsessive as the previous ministers. He actually gives Percy the weekend off here and there."
"I bet he doesn't know what to do with himself," Oliver said with a laugh as he set about to cooking.
"No, he doesn't. Been dropping around the flat and… cleaning," George said with scowl.
"Probably needs it, between you and Ron," Iris quipped.
"We're not that bad," he scoffed. "Just that Percy is… He actually likes cleaning." The look on George's face made it apparent that he thought cleaning for fun was the absolute worse thing in the world. Iris took a sip of her beer.
"I should invite him out some weekend. Save you from his fretting," she said, winking at George.
"Still trying to save the world, are we Iris?" George asked, grinning.
"Nah, not the world. Just you," she said. They clinked their beers together.
"Well, we heard about Oliver's day. What about you?" George asked before taking another sip. Iris shrugged.
"Just stayed around the flat. Cleaned up a bit, read a book," she said. George looked around.
"Dare I say, this is the cleanest I've ever seen Wood's place, Hogwarts or otherwise," George said. "You made the right decision taking her in," he called into the kitchen. Oliver looked up, grinning.
"I do help with the cleaning… sometimes," he retorted. Iris smiled.
"It's fine. I need something to do to keep me busy," she said. "Not much for me to do with Harry off working with the Ministry and Oliver busy with the Quidditch league."
"Didn't McGonagall offer you a position at Hogwarts?" George asked. Oliver looked up. He had been unaware that she had gotten a job offer. Iris nodded.
"When was this?" Oliver asked, momentarily stopping what he was doing. Iris looked over at him.
"Before we left. But, I turned it down, obviously. Didn't really want to be away from you guys after the last year...," she said, trailing off. She shook her head and quickly diverted away from that line of thinking. "But it's fine. I'll find something sooner or later. Bunch of shops are starting to reopen in the Alley. Sure I can get something there." Iris stared into space. Oliver watched her and sighed, returning to cooking. He did feel bad leaving her alone most of the day. At first it had been okay while she went out and discovered the neighborhood. And she had taken a certain joy in going to the shops and getting groceries. But she needed something. If anything so she wouldn't constantly try to get him to talk. He looked over at George catching his eye. George smiled and nodded.
"Well… I suppose it's about time I got the shop up and running," he said. Iris looked over at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
"That's wonderful, George!" she exclaimed. Iris had been hoping he would open up the shop again. George nodded and looked at Iris.
"But, ehm, it's a lot of work for just one bloke. I could use the help," he said, his eyes questioning her. "Think you could spare the time?" Iris grinned.
"I think I can fit it into my schedule," she said. George nodded.
"Good. I think we'll be needing some new products as well… something that says Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes is back with a bang," he said. "Think you could manage something?" Iris looked up in thought before nodding slowly.
"I think I could," she said. Oliver walked in from the kitchen, beer in hand.
"I think this deserves a toast," he said, holding his out. "To the new and improved Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."
"To new partnerships," George said, winking at Iris.
"To new beginnings," Iris responded. They clinked bottles and then drank.
Later that night, Iris was lying in bed reading when Oliver walked in and headed to the dresser, pulling out his pajamas pants. He had been in the study working on plays since George left a couple hours ago. She looked over at him, watching him with concern in her eyes.
"So… dinner was delicious," she said. Oliver looked over his shoulder at her as he pulled his shirt off.
"Thanks," he said, before turning his attention to his trousers. Iris looked back down at her book.
"Early morning tomorrow?' she asked, trying one more time. She turned a page.
"Unfortunately. We've got a meeting with the construction crew on the new stadium. They want to get some feedback on their blueprints and then I think we're taking a vote on the new team color," he said, pulling his pajama pants on. He turned and crawled into bed. He leaned over and kissed Iris' cheek. "Better get to sleep. Night, Iris." He then turned over and settled in. Iris stared at his back a moment, sighing sadly. She set a bookmark in her book and put it on the nightstand next to the bed. Settling in, she looked at the lamp and turned it off. Gradually, she started to doze off into a troubled sleep.
It seemed like minutes later though it was more like a few hours, Iris heard something that pulled her from sleep. She could feel Oliver moving around behind her. Iris sat up and looked over at him, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
"Oliver?" she asked quietly.
"Don't… don't... ," he murmured. He was still asleep, but covered in sweat as he kicked his leg. "Save her… you have to save her…" He flopped onto his back and his face was contorted in terror. Iris reached over and began stroking his arm.
"Shh, shh. It's okay, Oliver. It's just a dream," she said softly. Nearly every night since they felt his parents' house, he had woken her up, thrashing about and muttering in his sleep. He was still having nightmares. Sometimes he would settle down on his own after a bit. Some nights he woke himself up and would go to the study, working on Quidditch plays until the early morning. Or he would pass out on the couch up there. Sometimes just feeling Iris' touch and hearing her voice was enough to calm him down.
Oliver started shivering. Iris lay next to him in the hopes it would warm him up and get him to stop. She continued stroking his arm.
"It's okay, Oliver. It's over," she said softly again in his ear. Oliver flipped over, his eyes still shut tight and tightly wrapped his arms around her, nearly knocking the breath out of her, as though he was desperate to never let her go. He buried his face under her chin. She slowly wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back as he gradually began to settle.
"Don't go," he muttered.
"I'm not leaving. I'll never leave you," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. She sighed and stared ahead at the wall. "I'll never leave you again."