The room was empty. This was a living room that would normally be lively and full of light, but not today. I held Oliver's hand in my own, hoping to comfort him a little. I removed the spell from my stomach, remembering that I wasn't at school.

The house was eerily quiet. It seriously felt as if there was a hole where he'd been. I always called Oliver's parents Mr. and Mrs. Wood, out of courtesy, but I could have called him anything I liked. I wish I would've called him something else…uncle maybe. He was just more to me than 'Mr. Wood'.

Eventually we found where everyone was. When I say everyone, I mean my parents included. I knew they would be here. Mrs. Wood- no, I should start calling her something else, like I'd wanted to with Mr. Wood. I called my own mother Mom, so I think I should call her by her name, Moira.

We walked into the kitchen to find what might be the saddest scene I've ever seen. My own parents had bags under their eyes. They looked like they hadn't slept in a week. Chances were though, that they hadn't. My mother had a wrinkle or two she'd never had before and my father was a bit gray in the beard.

Moira Wood though, looked like a completely different person. Her hair was streaked with gray. Her eyes were sunken and dead looking. They had more bags than I'd ever seen any person with. She was thin, too thin. And she had to many wrinkles for a woman who was just forty.

The room was silent. Everyone was sipping on coffee. Normally we drank tea. The only time we drank coffee was when we needed something stronger. We entered silently, but when a floorboard creaked the three faces looked up to Oliver and myself.

Oliver went to his mother and pulled her to his chest. He towered over her now. She hugged him back as tears began to fall; something it appeared was not uncommon for her now.

I went to my own father and was wrapped in a hug by him and my mother. We all shared this quiet moment, each of us trying, and failing to find strength in each other. Finally my father broke the silence.

"You kids go put your things away," He directed in a very hoarse tone. He sounded as if maybe he hadn't spoken in a few days.

I followed Oliver up to his room. I knew I'd be with him, it wasn't even a question anymore, we all knew that everyone needed someone now, and Oliver was whom I needed. Unfortunately, who Moira needed was dead.

We placed our bags on the end of his bed, but made no motion to unpack. This room was so familiar, but now that so much had happened, between us, this family, and most of all, Oliver's father, the just seemed…different, even though it was identical to how it was left.

We made our way back downstairs. No one had moved so much as an inch. It seemed as if everyone were so grief-stricken that no one could bring themselves to function by any meaning of the word.

"Where's Braeden?" My mother managed.

"We left him a note explaining where we went, and told him to come if he felt the need, so he'll be here in about an hour I guess," I replied.

She nodded a numb response and we fell into the painful silence again. It was as if everyone was trying to fall out of pain, but no one could because we were all feeding off each other's pain.

There was a cracking sound of an apparating person. A moment later a woman dressed in a neat set of robes appeared. Pinned on her chest was a pin identifying her as a ministry of magic official.

"Mrs. Wood, I would like to offer you my deepest condolences. My name is Elizabeth Jenkins, I work in the Magical Law Enforcement department, and we've discovered the origin of your husband's murder," Jenkins tried to keep everything as painless as possible, but in a situation like this, there was going to be pain.

Ms. Wood couldn't seem to bring herself to speak, so someone else would need to take control of the situation. I expected my father, but it was not he.

"Oliver Wood," He took Jenkins hand after leaving my side, "The late Mr. Wood was my father. What do you know?"

"Do you know a Flint?" The woman asked. That was it. The steady control Oliver had been the one to pull blew. His eyes grew wide and he uttered a single curse before storming out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that, please excuse me," I apologized to the poor woman and hurried off after Oliver. I found him in a room that had been a favorite of everyone's. It had a large magical screen for watching quidditch matches. There were also several couches and posters on the wall.

Oliver was in the room, pacing, hitting the wall, and swearing. He didn't hear me come in. He was leaning against the wall. I put a hand on his shoulder, but said nothing first. He was completely shocked and swung around. He accidentally hit me across the face as his arm had been half raised to hit the wall. I put a hand to my face and went wide-eyed. Oliver actually did the same thing until he spoke.

"Oh god, Fallon I'm so sorry, it was an accident, I didn't mean to hit you-" He began to explain, but I stopped him.

"I'm going to chalk this up as my surprising you, your being a bit careless, and the fact that both of us are emotionally distraught, but Oliver, never lay a hand on me like that again," I informed him in a voice that wasn't angry.

"Of course, never," He murmured, then lost himself in thought for a moment, "Fallon, when will that bastard leave us alone? What did we do to him other than retaliate? Why won't he leave us alone?" He sounded desperate.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked up at him, "He's jealous that we have everything he never will, and the only was he can satisfy his unhappiness is to make others unhappy, but one day I promise that son of a bitch will get what's coming to him if I have to bloody my own wand," I vowed.

That Night

The funeral was to the next day. Braeden would be arriving late tonight. He received the note later than we anticipated and he had to pack and talk to Dumbledore before he came.

We lay in bed, barely touching. I was trying to wait until Oliver's breathing slowed to that of his slumbering state before I shed my own tears. I'd not shed one yet, and I was going insane from my own pain.

Soon enough I thought I heard the gentle slowing of breath and allowed the tears to fall. I wasn't making much noise, but it was enough to alert a nonsleeping person that I was crying. I thought Oliver was asleep, but he wasn't.

He rolled over and pulled me to his bare chest, and murmured sleepily, "What's wrong baby?"

"Nothing," I tried to lie. As if that were going to work on Oliver.

"Don't try and lie. What's wrong?" He murmured.

"I just…I've been trying to be strong for the both of us, because you were there for me, but I don't think I can handle being strong for us both," I tried again, honestly, this time.

"Oh Fallon," He murmured groggily, and gave me a little squeeze, "you don't have to do that. When I did what I did for you, I did take my time to deal with it. You have to grieve too, baby. You lost someone close to you too. Don't bottle it up again please, just let it out."

"Okay," was all I answered. It was all that we needed. He let me get it out of my system, and I wrapped my arms around him as well. Finally feeling safe and comfortable enough we both drifted off to sleep.

The Next Day

Braeden, Oliver, and I all sat in the front row. Our parents wanted us to speak. Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Fred, and George ended up showing up themselves, plus many people that I'd known since before I can properly remember. The ceremony started simply, everyone entered, and then when it stopped, it was time to Oliver, Braeden, and I to speak. Braeden went first.

"This man was like a father to me, only I had my own also. I guess what I'm saying is that thanks to him, and his family, I grew up with two sets of parents, plus a brother. He will be missed," Braeden finished. My brother was never very wordy.

He took his seat again, and then it was my turn. Great. I had the spell off, and it was apparent to everyone about my stomach, but at this point I could care less. It seemed like there were so many things more important than hiding the fact that I was pregnant, considering I was happy about it.

"Mr. Wood never wanted me to call him that. It seemed too formal. I still called him that though, out of respect. Now I wish I had called him something else. Uncle maybe, but he wouldn't want me to regret something as petty as a name, so I won't. I owe this man so much. I found the love of my life in his son. I'm finally going to officially be part of his family, just a little too late," I paused and sighed then continued, "He may be gone, but his legacy will go on," I placed a hand on my stomach, "I wish he would have had the chance to meet little Tara, but wishes don't always come true. I'd just like to say something I know he'll have wanted someone to say. Don't linger in his death too long. Daire Wood was a man who loved life, and lived it well. He wouldn't want the ones he cared for to end their lives with his." I gave Oliver's hand a little squeeze as I sat, and he made his way up.

"My father should not be dead, but one very spiteful person had someone end his life. It is sad that this person must be so unhappy that he cannot move on past others happiness. I wish he could know better, but apparently he doesn't. My father was not angry at these kinds of people, even when he is wronged by them. I wanted to be angry with my father's murderer. I wanted to be angry so bloody much, but something won't let me. My father wouldn't have been angry. He wouldn't have wanted me to be angry. I know my father is proud of me as a whole, but he would not be proud of my actions if I chose to take revenge. He wouldn't be proud if I stayed angry. He wouldn't be proud of you either. I know it's hard, because the world has lost one bloody incredible man, but don't be angry. He wouldn't like it."

Oliver sat down. People stood to pay their final respect, and Oliver pulled me to his lap. We wrapped ourselves up in one another, trying to find a comfort that wasn't there.

I glanced around to see Fred and Angelina, George and Alicia, and Braeden and Katie in similar positions. They were trying to find a way to fill a hole that was gaping painfully. The others had not been quite as close, but all of them at spent ample amount of time with the Woods. They really were in love, I thought to myself. There was at least that condolence.

Soon enough everyone left except myself, Oliver, Braeden, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Fred and George. And our parents of course. The eight of us would be taking a port key back to Hogwarts in the morning. In the mean time though, everyone was staying with the Woods. I imagine my own house must be scarce, and gathering dust.

Dinner that night was really just an affair of 'there is food in the kitchen, eat whenever you get hungry.'

The next morning leaving was a sober event. We said good-bye to my parents, and promised to see them at the rehearsal dinner for the wedding in two weeks. It was hard to believe that March was that fast approaching, but it was, the calendar can't lie after all.

At school we didn't bother to unpack. It was Monday, but we didn't go to class either. Anyone who saw us would think that someone had died. Well guess what they did.

Monday Night

I'd been particularly uncomfortable without the spells on my stomach today, so I slipped into my tigress form.

"Oliver, do you have the transfiguration notes-" Angelina was asking Oliver as they both mounted the stairs. She cut herself off, "Fallon, you are ridiculously distracting like that, because you make a pretty cat." I lazily opened one eye to look at her but did nothing.

"You know Fal," Oliver commented, "Even as a tiger you look pregnant. I wonder what would happen if you went into labor like that." He was being a little humorous. I lifted my head and looked at him, then pulled a very un-tiger like thing. I stuck my tongue out at him. This was enough to make them laugh a fair bit. It was the first time I'd heard the laugh since…the day Oliver and I read that letter.