Chapter Seven:
Third year was indeed different. Within the first few weeks of classes, Dylan began to come to her in the library for tutoring in potions. Mostly he had trouble understanding the portion and ingredients and he had trouble remembering what ingredient did what and what pairings made which reaction.
At first she tried making a chart of the different common ingredients and their pairings and outcomes. But the chart had been confusing, even to her, and there had been so many different aspects to the chart that she had gotten lost halfway through. Obviously, this had not been the right way to approach the problem.
Her second try at the tutoring was more successful. She asked Dylan how he approached his potions homework and then she compared it to how she approached it. Finally she asked him what his strengths were in his studies and developed a new plan.
Since he was exceptionally good at math, Olivia began to change the way he thought of potions. Not as a blur of information that he didn't understand, but as a math problem. Unicorn hair plus toadstool equaled the basis to a shrinking potion. And so on. He began to pick it up and start to use the tools on his own without her prompting.
After the first few sessions, Teddy began to come with him too, though he didn't often ask for help. Mostly Teddy just sat with them in the library to do his homework in quiet, away from his adoring fans.
He had been accepted onto his house's Quidditch team as keeper and was once again the center of an adoring fan club. Though in classes and in the hallways, he seemed to revel in all the attention as most boys his age would, the reality of it was he didn't necessarily enjoy the attention all the time. More often then not he would ditch the fawning girls to sit in the library with Dylan and herself.
Sometimes Victoire would make an appearance in the library as well. Olivia didn't like those days as much because Victoire often started an argument with her. She was always challenging Olivia, saying she was better at things that she really wasn't better at. When this happened, she felt it was her responsibility to prove Victiore wrong, so things were never pleasant on those days. Mostly, when Victoire waltzed into the library to hang all over Teddy, Olivia left soon after.
The absence of her library brought Olivia to a slight dilemma. Where was she to study if the library was gone? She soon became quite good at finding unoccupied classrooms and making them her own. There was one particular room on the fifth floor, underneath the astronomy tower that was hardly ever in use, mostly because of the draft that came through.
Olivia found this classroom to be ideal for her studies, and her extracurriculars. Her progress on Lumos was almost complete. She had been able to modify the spell so that not only did it light the tip of her wand, it also had the added effect of allowing her eyes to see light when there was none. It was almost like night vision goggles, but the magical version. The spell would be complete when she was able to shut off the light at the end of her wand, but keep the ability to see the light.
Professor Flitwick, who had showed her when she arrived on the first day of class her modified spell newly published, had asked after her studies and had inquired about any more modifications she had been working on. Olivia had filled him in on her Lumos idea and the progress she had made, and while he found it fascinating, he had no advice on how to help. Modifications were beyond him.
The days to Christmas were getting fewer and fewer and Olivia found herself actually excited for the holiday. She had missed her mother terribly and couldn't wait to see her again.
It was during the week before Christmas that things came to a head between herself and Victoire. At first, Olivia had argued with Victoire, proving her wrong often. But then she had seen how it distressed Teddy, for he was a friend to both of them. She hadn't wanted to cause him any unnecessary worry or force him to pick sides, so Olivia had soon switched to trying to keep the peace. But that day was different.
It started in the library like it always seemed to. Teddy was sitting across from Olivia, studying quietly from his transfiguration book, writing an essay. Olivia and Dylan were talking every now and then about random things that he asked about while she monitored his potions essay.
Things were calm and relaxed until that force of energy that was Victoire strode into the room and took a seat beside Teddy, demanding his attention. The very thought of Victoire in a library was a cause for Olivia to wince. She was loud and obnoxious, often disturbing the other occupants of the room, especially when Teddy tried his hardest to ignore her. Today was one of those days.
"Teddy! Are we going to sit together on the train ride back home?" Victoire demanded as she pushed at the stack of books Olivia had made to help Dylan with his essay, causing them to topple and lose their order. Blowing out a frustrated breath, Olivia reached for the books and began stacking them again.
"I don't know Victoire. We'll see," Teddy said grumpily, pushing at the shaggy brown hair that was falling into his eyes.
"Why don't you want to sit by me? It's not like we're getting off at different stops! We're going to the same place," Victoire huffed and slammed down her book in the newly made space. Next came her bag, shoving for more room and toppling the half stacked pile Olivia had been working on. Seeing this, Dylan began to help with the stacking too.
"I don't know if I'm going back for Christmas or not this year. I didn't the last two, I'm considering staying here again," Teddy snapped as he handed Olivia one of the toppled books with an apologetic smile.
"Well if you're staying then I'm staying too!" Victoire proclaimed as she dug through her messy book bag, looking for parchment to work on. "I'll go wherever you go Teddy, cuz we're gonna be married someday."
Teddy made a non-committal sound and went back to his writing. Her stacks once more complete, Olivia did as well. The potions essay was mostly finished, but she wanted to look up some history of the shrinking potion. She wondered if she could derive the formula for an enlargement potion by learning the history of how the shrinking was discovered. It was basically an inverse right? So if she created a formula that caused the exact opposite reaction to that of the shrinking potion, would she make the enlargement potion? It would be an interesting experiment.
Olivia was just finding the necessary information when Victoire's voice interrupted once again. "What about you Dylan? Are you staying here for Christmas also? Teddy said you stayed behind before. Are you going to again?"
"No," Dylan said gamely, wanting to prove to Teddy that he liked his cousin, since that incident on the train. "I'm going home. Have to show my mom how much I've improved in potions." At this he turned and smiled at Olivia. "Will I see you on the train Olivia? Perhaps I can introduce my mom to you at the station."
"We'll see," Olivia said, a little disconcerted by the fact that Dylan wanted his mom to meet her. She really hadn't helped that much with his potions. She had only changed the way he looked at it. He was the one that did all the work, really. "I am going home for Christmas this year, but I'm not sure how long we'll be at the station. My mother tends to be sickly this time of year."
"So you'll be going home as well?" Teddy asked with sudden interest. Olivia smiled at him, letting her excitement at seeing her mom shine through. "Are you glad for the change this year?"
"Wait…" Victoire broke in before Olivia could answer. "You stayed behind the last two years also?"
"Victoire, don't be nosey!" Teddy said with a hint of aggravation. It seemed he was always getting frustrated with her lately, Olivia noticed. But how could he not? Victoire followed him almost everywhere. She was always waiting for him outside his classrooms, she always sat next to him at meal times. Olivia guessed that in the common rooms she wasn't far behind either. Where Teddy was, Victoire was too.
"It's alright Teddy, I don't mind," Olivia said, though she did mind. What was it to her what Olivia chose to do for Christmas? Still, she too remembered the incident on the train and didn't want to put a strain on the closest thing she had to friendship. With a gentle smile the lie rolled easily off her tongue. "Like I said, my mother takes ill often during this time of year. The past two years she was unable to get to the station so I stayed here for Christmas. This year is different. And yes, Teddy, I am glad for the change."
"I would be too," Teddy said to her with a teasing smile on his face. "Your mother is pretty!"
"Is she now?" Dylan demanded, jumping back into the conversation. "Do you look anything like her Olivia?"
"Just the eyes," Teddy told Dylan, who shared the teasing smile. "They have mirror blue eyes, big and wide, that seem to see for miles. A boy could get lost in your mother's eyes."
Then it happened, the thing that sent their peaceful little library evenings exploding forever. Victoire, in her bid for attention and to be liked by the others, said rather loudly, "I bet my mom is better then yours."
Olivia watched, as if in slow motion, as the smiles dropped from the boy's faces. Both turned simultaneously to stare at Victoire as if she had crossed an invisible line, broken an unspoken rule.
"Excuse me?" Olivia whispered, feeling as if the breath had been knocked from her. What was happening here? For once in her life she couldn't see the logic in this conversation, couldn't pinpoint what the goal was for Victoire, or how she was going to come out of it unscathed.
"I said I bet my mom is better then yours. My mother is Hermoine Granger. She helped defeat the Dark Lord. She's best friends with Harry Potter, you know, the boy who lived? Who's your mom?" Victoire demanded, her face smug with supposed triumph.
"Victoire—" Teddy tried to intervene.
"No it's true! What has your mother done that's more accomplished then mine?" Victoire demanded.
Thousands of instants crossed Olivia's mind that were more important to her then helping defeat a man that had never touched her life. More important then being friends with a boy, who did indeed do extraordinary things, but not on his own, not by his own strengths. Had Victoire's mother ever given up her own happiness, her own safety so her daughter could buy school supplies? Had Hermoine ever faced a personal demon day in and day out and still managed to smile?
"I—" Olivia started but was cut off.
"Your mother is weak," Victoire began.
"Victoire!" Teddy snapped, trying to make her stop.
"No Teddy. I heard mom and your grandma talking at the lake this summer. I know what kind of home life Olivia comes from. I know about the bruises and things. If her mother was as great as mine, wouldn't she have gotten her daughter out of that situation?"
"Victoire, that is enough!" Teddy shouted, standing and slamming his hands down on the table. While the others flinched and heads turned to stare at the commotion, Olivia looked forward steadily, staring straight at Victoire.
Though her words wounded, ripped, and tore through everything that Olivia had once believed, though they raised numerous questions that Olivia couldn't even begin to comprehend or answer, she knew that letting her fear show was the number one mistake. She kept her face calm and her eyes focused and tear free.
"I want you to leave right now, Victoire. What you said is unacceptable." Teddy seethed as he began to pack away Victoire's things, shoving books and parchments violently into her pack. Quietly, Olivia began to shuffle her things into order as well.
It was as she slowly stacked her papers that she was dealt another blow. They knew. Teddy and Dylan, maybe the whole school. They knew about her home life, about the abuse. Teddy wasn't such a shock, but Dylan? And Victoire, who had a huge mouth. They all knew.
Though it hurt, she couldn't let it show. Wouldn't.
"No Teddy, it's quite alright. Though Victoire has many valid points she's missing out on just one thing." Olivia opened her scraggily book bag and began to stuff her things inside, balancing the weight to put the least amount of strain on the threads that kept it together.
"And what is that may I ask?" Victoire demanded, smiling that smug little smile, thinking she had beat Olivia at some game. How could she possibly be unaware of the fact that her words were sharper then swords? "Did I forget to mention how my mother would never be in such a position? Even if she hadn't married my father, even if she had made the same bad choices as yours and had found herself with a man that hit her, she would figure a way out. Did I mention that she is an accomplished witch, the smartest of her generation?"
More wounds. But Olivia was prepared with a single bullet that would blow a hole right through Victoire's front. "No, not that."
Calmly closing the flap of her bag and shouldering it, Olivia stood and tucked her chair gently into the table. Then, with her shoulders squared and her head held level Olivia looked Victoire square in the eye. "It's not that my mother is weak Victoire. It's that she's infinitely strong. There are things about our situation that you are unaware of, aspects that keep us where we are. But know this. Everyday my mother fights a hell deeper and darker then anything your mother could imagine. And she survives. More then that, she lives. What has your mother done lately?"
The silence that followed was an empty victory. Olivia felt hollow inside, the questions mounting. She needed to leave, needed to be alone. Needed to consider what Victoire said, for though it was done in anger and out of spite, she had been right.
"Dylan, if you need any more help, I'll be in the Ravenclaw common room for a little while longer. Goodnight."
And then she was gone, out in the hallway, scurrying away, her shoulders hunching under the weight of questions and the tears that built but didn't spill.
The return trip to King's Cross station for Christmas was uneventful. Mostly it was spent with Olivia staring vacantly out into the countryside, going over the questions in her head. Since the showdown in the library, Olivia's hurt had turned into a slow burning anger, anger like she had never felt before. She did indeed have so many questions that she needed to ask her mother.
As she stepped off the train and into her mother's arms, her happiness wasn't what she had hoped it would be. Though her mother squeezed her tight and demanded that she be informed of everything that had happened since she set foot on the train in September, Olivia had trouble reciprocating those feelings.
Victoire's voice was still in her head.
Why hadn't her mother walked away yet? If she loved Olivia as much as she said she did, as much as she seemed to show, how could she still be with her stepfather? If she really loved her, how could she let her daughter stay in an environment that was hazardous?
The holiday went by quickly, and though she tried to be her old self, she couldn't help watching her mother, calculating what she went through every day when her stepfather was here, pitting it against the amount of strength she appeared to have, and demanding of herself why they were still here. By all calculations, her mother should have escaped long ago.
Christmas day took away some of the focus. Her mother had gotten her more school supplies, something she was always grateful for, as well as a very pretty black dress. It was sophisticated, with a V-neck collar and a very tight bodice that came to her hips before flaring out slightly. The pleated skirt stopped short of her knees and when paired with knee high boots, she looked a lot older then she was. Her mother said so when she tried it on.
"You're growing into such a lovely young woman," her mother had whispered, tears in her eyes. "It's hard to imagine that in just a few months you'll be fourteen."
"It's hard to imagine a lot of things," Olivia had snapped back and watched a knowing look enter her mother's eye. She hated being this way with her mother, but she had stood by for too long.
She turned and opened her final present to get away from the awkward silence with her mother. It was another mystery gift. Inside a rather large box was a new book bag. Made of tough canvas dyed a dark brown, it had an adjustable strap and more pockets then she could imagine. It was also spelled to hold more weight then any bag she had ever owned. In a fun test, she had stuffed all her books into the bag as well as all her new supplies, something she had never been able to do with her old bag. Upon slipping it over her shoulder, it felt as if it was empty.
Christmas dinner was a fine affair, sitting in the living room before the fire, listening to carols on the radio. Her mother had made mashed potatoes and cheesecake, just as Olivia had asked for. And though they were delicious, they settled badly within her stomach.
The time for asking questions was getting closer. The longer she was with her mother, the more questions she needed to ask. But she was hesitant, because it was something she wasn't allowed to talk about. Talking about this issue was the number one thing she had forbidden herself.
Like the time at the station when she had asked, "what if it's the last time it's ever like this?" and had immediately had to back peddle to keep her mother happy. She had always tried to keep her mother happy because she did face so much hardship. But what if keeping her mother happy was hindering her? What if protecting her was only making it worse?
The day before it was time to return to Hogwarts, her mother finally got tired of Olivia's attitude. Sitting in the living room reading her transfiguration book without actually seeing the words, her mother broke the silence.
"What's wrong Livy dear?" She demanded quietly as she set down the book she had been reading and stared intently at her mother's face.
"What do you mean?" Olivia played coy, trying to push this away. She didn't want to hurt her mother, she really didn't. But it was becoming inevitable.
"You haven't been acting yourself at all since you got back from school. Did something happen in a class? With the students? You can talk to me dear. I'm your mother. I'll listen," she said it with a little smile, trying to earn her trust. And that was the trigger that opened the floodgates.
"What's gonna happen when he gets back from sea?" Olivia demanded, closing her book with a snap. It wasn't how she had planned to start, that was for sure. She had wanted to ease into, maybe give her some options to get out. Not just demand answers.
"What?" her mother whispered, devastated. That was certainly not what she had been expecting.
"He's been gone for the summer and for Christmas, and you've gotten so healthy! Look at you, you've put on weight, you're getting sleep, color. You're smiling! How can you let him come back when he's just going to take that all away?"
"You don't know what you are talking about Olivia," Her mother stammered. She began to fidget, twisting her fingers, chewing at her lip.
"Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, Mother." Olivia seethed, infuriated, throwing the book to the floor and standing. "You think I don't see what he does to you? You think I watch him hitting you and abusing you and I don't hurt too? I hate him, I hate the way he treats you, the things he does to you!"
She paced towards the fire, then away, the silence so loud between them. "I'm sick to death of coming between you and his fists. Of sneaking you into my room while the cops bang on the door. Of hiding away my bruises. Do you know what people think of me at school mother?"
"I—"
"They ask me why my mother is so weak, she can't walk away from the thing that's hurting her the most. I have to lie and say you have a sickness and that's why I can't come home for Christmas. They ask me where my bruises come from, and I lie and say things that they know aren't true. Or I say nothing at all and it's worse."
"I know that's no way to live a childhood, Livy dear, but it's for the best."
"For the best?" Olivia shouted, turned to face her mother as she stood in the middle of the room, rage striking down her body like lightening. "For the best? How is watching you fight to stay alive every day that he is here for the best? How. Why can't you just walk away from him?" Olivia pleaded.
"There are things you don't know, Olivia," now she was pulling back in her chair, trying to create a distance, from her daughter or the situation, Olivia wasn't sure.
"Then tell me! So I can understand. You said yourself, I'm growing up. I'm more intelligent then you are giving me credit for. Tell me what's going on so I can help. You don't have to leave him on your own, mother. I'm here, I'll be your support."
"But you're gone Olivia, at school."
"So?" She demanded. Stalking the few feet between them, Olivia fell to her knees before her mother, grabbing her hands and begging for understanding. "Are you really that lonely for company that a man who uses you as his punching bag is better then being alone? Why do you need him, mother?"
"There are things you don't realize Olivia. It's not as easy to walk away as you think. What about the house? I own it. I can't just leave it behind. It's our home."
"We can make a new home," she was pleading now, her voice thick with tears. "We can build a new home somewhere else, somewhere safe. Don't you see what this is doing to me? To us?"
"With what money, Olivia? I haven't had a job since before you were born. Your stepfather supports us both. How can I run from him when he keeps us afloat?"
"You can get a job. I can to!" she offered, hope in finding the solution. "Over the summer. I can help with the bills. I'm almost old enough. I can almost pass off as sixteen."
"What about when you go back to school? What if something happens to me while you are at school, something bad, and I can't support you or myself when you get back? Then what'll we do?"
"I'll quit school then. I'll—"
"No!" Her mother shouted, shaking off Olivia's clinging grasp, getting to her feet and striding towards the fire. "You will not quit school, Olivia. I forbid it. School is your one option, your one chance. I…"
She fell silent and Olivia felt the anger that had slipped from her grasp running back. How could her mother be so helpless? Victoire had been right. Her mother was weak. If she were strong like Hermoine Granger, she would have gotten away, would have escaped. Would have kept her daughter safe.
"Despite what you see when you are home, I need your stepfather. And he needs me. I will not leave him. I will not leave this house. And I will not put you in a position where you have no chance at a better life," though her voice had faltered in the beginning, it grew stronger at the end, a promise she intended to keep.
But Olivia was still so mad. None of her questions had been answered, none of her concerns had been addressed. Her mother had brushed them away as if they meant nothing, as if she meant nothing. Never before had she felt so betrayed by her mother, so hurt. The anger was nearly overwhelming.
Coming to her feet Olivia strode towards the door, but stopped before leaving the room. With her back to her mother she said quite clearly into the silence, "Any life would be better then one where a mother is too weak to walk away from the one thing that's hurting her daughter."