we'll make many storms

And she's as much apart for this broken heart, but see

Broken bones always seem to mend

You are young and you are foolish, but you feel like growing up means giving up so you don't want to. In a way, you are already grown up, though. You've tried to hold on to your childhood as much as you can, but there's nothing young and nothing innocent about the way that you've seen people die.

You can remember the day your brother tried to save his fiancee, and right then you'd wish he'd been anything but a Gryffindor when he ran into the green light for her. And as selfish and guilty as you are, you can't help but hate her for that.

You have seen your best friend fall to Death Eaters, and you had to make the funeral arrangements yourself because her family was already six feet under.

It was both a blessing and a curse when Wood came back into your life. He was reminder of your Hogwarts days, the carefree carelessness, the Quidditch, and the fun. Before you landed in St. Mungos for six months, and before your brother saved his fiancee and before your best friend turned her back for one second -

When you were with him, it was like none of that had happened. Oliver was in no way tied with any of the wars going on inside your head. The battle was over, but you couldn't help but believe the war was still raging on for you.

He didn't quite understand. For most of the war, he'd been away with Puddlemere United. His mother and father and sisters were safe up in Scotland, and he'd only seen a thestral for the first time after the Battle.

In retrospect, that was probably why you had gotten on with him so much. He was cute - almost puppy cute, the way he pouted his lips childishly when he was upset. You almost felt older than him. You'd seen more.

"It's not what it looks like!" he exclaimed cheerily, shaking the box. "Here!" He thrust the heavily-wrapped box at you. You took it from his hands and laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Thanks," you say, smiling at him. The box was wrapped in wrapping paper with stockings on it, flashing bright green and red. You open the box, and you're shocked to see that it's a red jumper.

"Not just a red jumper," Oliver corrects. "It's a mood jumper. Black for anger, yellow for happy, pink for love, purple for embarrassment… red is neutral. Put it on!"

He always got you little gifts like that, little unique things you had no idea where he'd gotten them. But it made you feel good, too, because you were never the type to go out and treat yourself on anything, really.

But he didn't understand. The nightmares and the crying and the missing your Mum, because you hadn't seen her for the longest time.

"Take a dreamless sleep potion!"

"That doesn't work!" you fire back at him.

"Of course it works," he says, confused. You don't know how to explain it without making yourself seem all sorts of crazy. The darkness and all of the black… somewhere in your subconscious, it makes you feel like the war is still on.. But the dreams, they're just as bad, your brother and Leanne and what you couldn't do to save them, and when you wake up, all you feel is guilt.

You just shake your head at him and he looks lost. You know he's trying, trying his best. And you don't blame him. You're a pretty messed up person, right?

"I don't know what to do!" he says, one day. He doesn't really complain about much so you figure it's about time he said something to you. "Katie… you… you're... you wake up because when you take the potion, you're scared, and when you don't, you scream, you're so upset… and I'm trying to help… but the nightmares, I don't know what to do, I don't, I don't know what to do -"

"You don't have to do anything, Oliver," you protest, but he continues like he hasn't heard you.

"Yes, I do!" he replies heatedly. "Because I can't just sit there and watch you pretend like you're okay. I might be really interesting in Quidditch, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything else about other things!"

"I'm fine."

"You keep saying that, Katie, but it would be better if it was true!"

For some reason, you're offended by that, but you have no idea why.

"Tell me," he continues. You've never heard him like this, except for on the Quidditch Pitch. He sounds so determined. "You aren't really just fine."

You don't know why you're trying to convince him you are, because you know that you aren't normal. But really, who's just fine anymore? You're pretty sure you're not the only one with terrifying nightmares or grieving a loved one. You could be George, or you could be Harry, and you would have it a million times worse, wouldn't you?

You are a pretty impulsive person, and maybe that's what landed you in Gryffindor. "No, I'm not, but you wouldn't really understand that, would you?"

"What?" he asks, a bit confused by your statement.

"You spent the war up and safe with Puddlemere, with nothing to worry about! Your family didn't get hurt, and neither did your friends-"

"I'd rather myself get hurt then watch my friends, and you, Katie, suffer!" Oliver exclaims. You feel a little guilty, and try to think about it his way.

He continues. "I'll always be here as long as you need me. I've always been here. And yes, I don't really understand what you're going through but I'm here for you."

How did he manage to turn an argument into a sweet conversation again? You shut your eyes and tilt your head downwards, and he catches you in a hug.

"As long as you need me," he says.

a/n - I am so sorry. For Puddlemere United in the ql. I tried to write angst, but really, with Oliver/Katie, I can't.