OLLIE found himself unable to comprehend the recent events, even if his life depended on it. Holding the unconscious witch in his arms, he felt a new, unfamiliar emotion gripping his heart, leaving him frozen in place. The moment he heard Norah Wydman's scream, he reacted instinctively, darting out of the cave and racing through the forest. When he arrived at the clearing and saw Antonin Dolohov with the lifeless centaur and Norah in his clutches, something snapped within Ollie.
Without a second thought, he let the repressed ferocity and rage of the Obscurus inside him take over.
All else faded away as an overwhelming red haze clouded his vision and darkness blinded his vision, and he allowed the monster within him to finally break free for the first time in his life. And now that the danger was averted, at the edge of the street in Spinner's End, Cokeworth, the Obscurial stood, surrounded by the pungent odor of the dirty river and the musty abandoned mill.
Despite the unpleasant smells, Ollie ignored the distractions and kept his focus solely on the witch in his arms. He didn't bother to look back and see what had happened to Antonin after Disapparating with the witch; he only knew that the man was still alive.
Ollie couldn't afford to be near Antonin when he woke up with Norah; the situation had already forced him to flee the Forest, temporarily abandoning any thoughts of convincing the rumored rogue Pack living there to join Lord Voldemort's cause. The Dark Lord would undoubtedly punish them for their failure, but right now, all Ollie cared about was carrying the injured witch to safety.
Swiftly making his way down the street of Spinner's End, Ollie's eyes returned to their normal blue hue as the Obscurus within him calmed now that the danger had passed. He searched from left to right, trying to locate the home of the capable genius he sought. Ollie's heart pounded wildly in his chest as he realized that it was the first time he had ever sought out Severus Snape for help. His hands trembled with both urgency and nerves as he hastened his pace down the street. He took great care not to jostle Norah in his arms, fully aware that he couldn't determine the extent of the injuries inflicted by the despicable man.
He worried whether any bones were broken or if she had been cursed in a way he couldn't discern. An unexpected blush crept onto his cheeks at the close and intimate contact with the beautiful witch in his arms.
Quickly, Ollie shook his head, trying to dispel the frenzied and flustered thoughts that arose. He knew they wouldn't be of any help in this critical moment as he finally arrived at Severus Snape's home. His breaths caught in his throat, but his feet seemed to possess a will of their own, carrying him swiftly up the steps of Severus Snape's home until he stood before the wizard's front door. Nervously, he scanned the door, eyeing it warily. For a moment, he hesitated, contemplating whether he should turn back.
In all his life, Ollie had never encountered a door as intimidating as the one belonging to the young Potions Master of Hogwarts. Although it appeared like any other front door on the street, there was something about Severus Snape's entrance that felt foreboding. It loomed larger, darker and seemed to be cast deeper into shadow as if trying to shield itself from the harsh rays of the sun during the day. Standing there, a sudden surge of anger welled up within Ollie. Who did Severus think he was, to intimidate and frighten his guests even before greeting them face to face by opening the door? The audacity of it all infuriated him.
Despite the simmering fury and nerves, Ollie knew he couldn't turn away now.
He had come seeking the wizard's help, and Severus Snape was one of the most skilled and knowledgeable wizards he knew.
So, with a deep breath to steady himself, he raised his hand and knocked on the imposing door.
After a few moments of hesitation, Ollie's heart seemed to pound louder than ever. He pondered whether he should turn back, taking her to his home in Doveport and entrusting his house-elf to care for her. There was a possibility that Severus might not even be home at this late hour, as he could have been called to Hogwarts to prepare for the upcoming academic year starting in a week.
Even if he was home, there was no guarantee that his friend would assist them. Severus Snape was known for his prickly nature and occasional irritability, even in good moods. Cradling Norah in his arms, Ollie decided to make his presence known.
He knocked loudly on Severus's front door and followed it up with a swift kick, urgently and insistently trying to get the wizard's attention. Ollie's frustration grew as he waited, and he was about to strike the door again when he finally heard footsteps approaching from inside. With a creak, the door slowly opened, revealing Severus Snape's shadowy figure as he opened the door enough so that half of his face could be seen. From the darkness of his home, Severus spoke to Ollie.
"Oliver, you're a long way from the Forbidden Forest. What do you want?" Severus's voice had a cold, unwelcoming tone, causing a shiver to run down Ollie's spine. As he faced the tall, pale wizard, Ollie's resolve almost wavered, and he thought about retreating and Disapparating. However, he managed to stand firm, remembering the pride and strength expected of Black wizards.
Refusing to back down, Ollie stood tall and firm, despite feeling his eye twitch with irritation.
Severus Snape's cold reception didn't deter him; he was determined to get the man's assistance.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Ollie carefully considered his words before speaking.
"Severus, I apologize for showing up unannounced like this, but I need your help. I did not know who else to trust or where else I could bring her. My partner, Norah, she's in terrible condition. Dolohov, that Merlin damned bastard, attacked her and would have killed her if I hadn't intervened... If I hadn't..." Ollie's voice trailed off, concern evident as he gazed into the slightly older man's eyes.
Ollie observed the Potions Master for a moment, detecting the signs of inner turmoil in his eyes. Severus Snape seemed preoccupied and restless as if he were about to rush off to deal with an undisclosed crisis.
Despite this, Snape maintained a composed expression as he listened to Ollie's plea, though his reluctance to assist was evident in his stiff posture and desire to retreat into the darkness of his home.
"I have my responsibilities, Oliver. I cannot involve myself in every personal matter of my...associates," Snape responded in a low voice, tinged with irritation.
Ollie's frustration grew, and a surge of fiery anger boiled within him, reminiscent of the emotions he had experienced when facing Antonin Dolohov moments ago. The parasitic Obscurus inside him stirred, threatening to resurface. Struggling to regain control, Ollie closed his eyes and attempted to calm himself. When he finally spoke, it was with a strained tone.
"I understand that you have your matters to attend to, Severus," Ollie said, trying to steady his voice. "But Norah is injured, she may be in danger, and I didn't know who else to turn to or trust to keep her safe. You were always a formidable wizard, Severus, and I believe you're the only one who can help her now."
Silence hung between them for what felt like an eternity, the tension palpable.
Severus studied Ollie intently, seemingly unaffected by his words. However, the desperation and anger in Ollie's eyes caught his attention, causing a momentary pause as if Snape were contemplating his options.
"Make no mistake, Oliver, I don't owe you or the witch in your arms anything," Severus responded coldly. "But... I suppose I could take a look at her injuries. Just to be sure, and perhaps to ensure you leave my home and never return," he added with a hint of anger.
A glimmer of hope flickered in Ollie's eyes as he nodded gratefully, despite his apprehension towards Snape. "Thank you, Severus. I know what I'm asking is a lot, but I can't let her die. Not after... not after this," Ollie said, his voice wavering, trying to hold back tears.
Though Severus Snape's features were sharp and unwavering, a slight softening was briefly noticeable, reflecting some sympathy for Ollie's genuine concern for Norah. However, the moment passed swiftly, and Snape quickly regained his stoic demeanor as he reluctantly opened the door wider, allowing Ollie to carry Norah inside.
"Make no mistake, Black, my help should not be mistaken for an act of kindness. I do this for you and her because I don't want any further disruptions, from you or anyone," Severus stated firmly, ensuring Ollie understood the motive behind his assistance.
Ollie grunted his thanks and silently followed Severus through the entryway of his home. Unconcerned by the sound of the front door locking automatically behind them, Severus directed Ollie to bring the witch into his small, dimly lit sitting room, which felt almost like a dark padded cell. The walls were adorned with books, and a worn-out, threadbare sofa was pushed against one corner, accompanied by an old armchair placed thoughtfully near the fireplace. A rickety wooden side table, in desperate need of repair, stood by the peeling armchair. The place seemed neglected, and Ollie knew it wasn't typically inhabited due to Severus's responsibilities as both Potions Master of Hogwarts and his allegiance to the Dark Lord.
Severus paused by the sofa and used his wand to light a lamp before motioning for Ollie to lay Norah on it.
Gently, as if she were the most delicate thing he had ever touched, Ollie carefully placed the blonde witch on the sofa, making sure to provide her with some comfort by resting her head on a conjured pillow.
Ollie's hands trembled, the intensity increasing as Severus knelt to examine Norah's head. A horrifying welt had formed just above her brow, and Ollie's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, his senses were overwhelmed by the urge to seek revenge on Antonin Dolohov for what he had done. The thought pumped through his veins, consuming him with anger and frustration.
Struggling to control his emotions, Ollie clenched his fists, trying to suppress the violent impulses that threatened to consume him. He knew that revenge wouldn't help Norah, and it certainly wouldn't aid his current situation.
Severus seemed to notice Ollie's internal struggle, and though he said nothing, there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
Ignoring his inner turmoil, Ollie turned his attention back to Severus, who was now carefully examining Norah's injuries. The Potions Master's expression remained inscrutable, but his actions showed a degree of concern for the injured witch.
"What happened to her, Oliver?" Severus asked in a detached tone, his fingers lightly tracing the swollen welt on Norah's forehead.
Ollie's voice trembled as he spoke, his face draining of color as he watched Severus Snape's pale and slender fingers deftly examine Norah's arms and legs, carefully checking for any injuries she might have sustained.
"Antonin, Severus, as I mentioned outside, he... he nearly...forced himself..." Ollie grimaced, unable to find the words to finish his sentence. The memory-filled him with a fierce and primal rage. In a burst of fury, he recounted the harrowing events that led him to discover Norah in such a dreadful and perilous state—her cries echoing, guiding him to the scene where Antonin Dolohov had her at his mercy, the sudden unleashing of his Obscurus, and his desperate struggle to protect his partner, culminating in his split-second decision to bring Norah here. Severus listened attentively, allowing Ollie to recount the events without interruption.
Once Ollie had finished, Severus straightened his posture and took a step back, his sallow face returning to its usual stoic expression.
"Antonin is reckless and ruthless, even by Death Eater standards," Severus mused quietly to himself, a hint of disdain lacing his words that Ollie was quick to pick up on.
"He is," Ollie agreed through gritted teeth, the anger at what the bastard had nearly done to Norah still simmering dangerously just beneath the surface. "He won't be coming anywhere near her again," he vowed, unaware his body had started to shake with rage.
Severus furrowed his brow and cast a furtive look towards Ollie before turning away to retrieve a vial of bluish potion from the nearby closest bookshelf the wizard stood next to.
He swiftly crossed the room and handed it to Ollie, saying to him quietly, "This is a potion to relieve her pain if she is experiencing any. Have her drink it, she must drink it all, it will help with the immediate discomfort."
Taking the vial from him, Ollie nodded gratefully and carefully turned to Norah to administer the potion, all the while trying to quell the shaking in his hands to not spill a drop onto her face. She stirred slightly as he turned her head but she did not wake as he poured the contents of the vial down her throat and held her mouth closed, forcing the witch to swallow the potion.
Ollie hoped it would ease her pain and allow her to rest while Severus examined her further.
"What else can you do for Norah, Severus?" Ollie heard himself asking in a nearly frantic voice, trying to keep the desperation from creeping into his voice and ultimately failing.
As Severus turned to face Ollie, his expression remained serious as he silently assessed the witch's condition, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. It took a moment before Severus spoke up.
"While the potion should help with her immediate pains, if any, I need to make sure there are no internal injuries or magical repercussions from the attack," Severus explained, his tone authoritative. With a flick of his wand, he proceeded to perform a series of diagnostic spells.
Ollie hovered near Severus's nearby sofa, worry and fret obvious in his eyes as Severus meticulously examined the witch for any injuries. The seconds felt like hours as Ollie waited for any sign of hope that his partner would be alright.
Finally, Severus straightened his gait and turned to look at Ollie, his slightly older Death Eater gaze meeting his with a mixture of determination and apathy.
"Physically, she seems relatively stable," he began, speaking slowly and carefully. "But the ordeal may have taken a toll on her mentally and physically. I would advise her not to delve into anxiety too much over the next few days as she is still recovering from her previous ordeal, by the looks of things," Severus murmured, either ignoring or oblivious to the way Ollie growled in pain and the blood drained from the man's face, sensing that Severus was keeping something from him, something the Potions Master was not telling. Regardless of the confusion and suspicions welling inside of him, Ollie could only nod, understanding perhaps better than anyone in the Dark Lord's ranks that mental and emotional scars could be just as profound as physical scars.
"Is there anything else we can do for her?" he asked earnestly, eager to do whatever he could for his partner.
Severus hesitated for a moment, then spoke with a sense of conviction.
"In cases like hers, the support of a companion can be vital to the healing process. Stay by her side, Black, reassure her and let her know she's safe. Also, she will need to take this daily next month in the weeks leading up to the full moon. She is well aware that missing even one dosage renders it ineffective, as I have told her father more than once when he sends me owls for advice," Severus coldly advised, turning at the waist and handing Ollie a small vial of thick blue liquid that emanated a foul stench, even with the vial stoppered, almost making Ollie retch.
He took it gently and held it in the flat of his palm, examining it with furrowed brows until a jolt of realization hit him, and he felt the blood drain from his face.
"Wolfsbane," he murmured, his heart in his throat, hardly daring to believe it. "Norah's... a werewolf?"
As Severus stared at Ollie, his lips formed a thin white line, and his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion, studying the wizard's shocked expression in silence. A smirk teased the corners of Severus's mouth, a sight that irritated Ollie to the point of wanting to hex it off.
"Finally catching up, are we, Oliver?" Severus murmured in a low, mocking growl. Amidst the opportunity to mock Ollie for his ignorance about his partner's curse, Severus felt a brief sense of gratitude. "Yes, Black, Norah Wydman is a werewolf. She has been since the age of six. You were kept in the dark about her condition all this time," Severus stated, his amusement not hidden. His voice dripped with condescension as he savored the moment.
Anger and confusion churned within Ollie as he clenched his fists, trying to process the revelation. Norah's secrecy and the way others spoke of her suddenly made sense, but the feeling of betrayal weighed heavily on him.
Yet, his concern for Norah's well-being overshadowed his grievances.
"Why was I not told, Severus? As one of his best, surely he would have informed you," Ollie asked, his voice tinged with hurt and anger.
Severus sighed in frustration and looked away, his amusement waning slightly.
"The Dark Lord believed your unpredictable nature and the... tempestuous Obscurus within you, which has bonded itself to you, could pose a threat during your diplomatic mission to convince the rogue Pack. He thought sending a wolf from Greyback's Pack would not bode well, that the situation required a more delicate touch, so he sent for Willas Wydman's daughter instead. He did not want to risk any complications that could arise from your presence during those more... delicate moments," Severus explained matter-of-factly.
Although hurt by being considered a mere pawn and liability by the Dark Lord, Ollie's primary concern was helping Norah. He pleaded with Severus about the Wolfsbane Potion and its effectiveness.
"Can you help her, though?" Ollie asked desperation and trembling in his voice as he pleaded with Severus. "Will this Wolfsbane Potion be enough for her?"
Severus nodded, returning to his composed demeanor as a Potion Master, his expression now indifferent. "Yes, the Wolfsbane will help your witch keep her mind when she transforms. They will help control her transformations. With proper care and support, the witch is capable of leading a relatively stable life, but she will need someone she trusts by her side, especially during the full moon."
Numbly, Ollie looked at Norah, still unconscious on Severus's sofa.
Despite the revelation, he couldn't muster the disgust and hatred he was supposed to feel. How could a kind-hearted witch like Norah, who looked at him without fear or disgust despite his disfiguring mark, be an evil creature deserving of death?
Deciding right then and there, Ollie made up his mind not to abandon her. He would do everything in his power to support Norah. He realized the importance of his role as her partner, her support, and her anchor during these turbulent times.
"I... thank you, Severus," Ollie muttered sincerely, tearing his gaze away from Norah to meet the older wizard's eyes with newfound respect. "I will do everything I can to help her through this. I'm not going to leave her, and I won't give up on her. Thank you for all you've done."
Severus nodded in acknowledgment of Ollie's commitment.
"Take a moment to collect yourself, but you cannot stay," he said, leaving the room to give Ollie some time alone with his partner.
At that moment, Ollie felt a connection with Severus Snape that went beyond their roles as capable wizards and Death Eaters as he was left to watch Severus leave the room and only tore his gaze back to the witch on the wizard's sofa when he was sure the two of them were alone. Ollie decided he wouldn't abandon Norah and vowed to be her support and anchor during challenging times.
He held the vial of Wolfsbane with determination and a newfound understanding of his role as her partner.
With unwavering determination, Ollie clutched Norah gently in his arms, his blue eyes resolute as he heard the approaching footsteps of Severus Snape. Though he felt the intense stare of the Potions Master on his back, Ollie refused to turn and face him.
In a hoarse voice, without making eye contact with Severus, Ollie spoke firmly, "I'm taking Norah to my home in Doveport to recover. I'll deal with the Dark Lord in the morning. Right now, Norah is all that matters, Severus."
Severus let out a frustrated sigh, but surprisingly, his response held no blame. His voice was quiet yet matter-of-fact as he warned, "The Dark Lord is not to be trifled with, Oliver. You care for the girl, and only a fool would fail to see it. Be cautious."
Ollie bristled at the slight against werewolves but remained steadfast. "I will handle it," he retorted, his determination tinged with irritation. The antagonism in Severus's dark eyes was evident, and it seemed he realized he couldn't dissuade Ollie.
"Very well, Black. But remember, I warned you of the consequences," Severus said sharply, with an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.
Ollie nodded, muttered a half-hearted farewell, and thanked Severus for his help before swiftly leaving his home with Norah in his arms. The lingering fear of Severus Snape's watchful gaze gnawed at his mind, but he pushed it aside, focusing solely on getting Norah to safety. Ollie's face hardened as he entered his darkened home.
He called out firmly, "Kreacher! Show yourself now!" The house-elf did not make him wait long, as within seconds of him uttering the command, with a loud "pop," the Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, materialized in front of Ollie, his hands wringing with annoyance. He glanced at Norah Wydman in Ollie's arms and his eyes filled with disdain.
"Young Master Ollie, what have you brought into your noble home? Kreacher recognizes this dog in your arms, oh, yes. The she-wolf is a disgrace of a witch, I see," the house-elf muttered, his voice dripping with hatred.
"Hold your tongue, Kreacher, or I might make you cut it out," Ollie growled, his voice tinged with anger. "This is Norah Wydman, the daughter of wandmaker Willas Wydman. She is a guest in my home indefinitely, and I will not tolerate any disrespect towards her. Have I made myself clear?"
Kreacher seemed momentarily surprised by Ollie's response but quickly regained his composure.
"A guest, you say, Master Black? Kreacher knows this witch, oh, yes, she is nothing but a filthy werewolf! Oh, Mistress Black would be rolling over in her grave if she knew you allowed such a disgusting creature inside the walls of your home, sir," he protested.
Ollie took a deep breath, trying to control his temper.
"Kreacher, Norah is not just some 'creature.' She is my partner, she is a kind and gentle witch, and she has suffered enough. I will not let you or anyone else belittle her because of something she cannot control. I will not stand for your bigotry." Kreacher's face twisted with anger, but Ollie wasn't backing down. "Now listen carefully, Kreacher. I'd like you to go to the kitchen and make a light chicken broth for Norah in case she's hungry when she wakes. Treat her with the same respect as any other guest in my home, or it's back to Sirius with you," Ollie threatened sternly.
The house-elf's eyes narrowed in horror and disgust, and he muttered something under his breath, but he nodded reluctantly. "Fine, Master Ollie, Kreacher will do as he is asked. But mark my words, Young Master, bringing this filth into your home is a mistake!"
"Enough, Kreacher!" Ollie snapped, pointing towards the kitchen. "Get to it, and do not test my patience. You will not say another word, do you understand me? Treat Norah with respect, or there will be consequences."
Kreacher shot him a withering look but shuffled off towards the kitchen, knowing better than to defy a direct order from a member of the Black family. As the house-elf disappeared, Ollie sat beside Norah, vowing to protect her at all costs, even if it meant facing the Dark Lord's wrath. Alone with Norah, Ollie watched her as she slept peacefully on the sofa.
He couldn't help but be captivated by her beauty and the warmth that he felt whenever she was near. He nervously ran a hand through his black hair, his mind racing with thoughts of the failed mission and the consequences that awaited them.
He knew he had to inform the Dark Lord about their setback, but the idea of exposing Norah to the wizard's wrath terrified him. His determination to keep her safe grew stronger, and he couldn't bear the thought of her facing any more danger.
As he sat there, grappling with his fears and emotions, he made a silent vow to himself.
He would do whatever it took to shield Norah from harm and ensure she stayed away from any further peril. He believed that with the power of the Obscurus inside him, he could protect her from external threats. However, little did he know that their troubles were far from over. The challenges ahead were daunting, and he would need to confront them head-on, standing beside Norah.
The fate of their mission, their lives, and their bond would be tested in ways he couldn't yet imagine. But for now, he focused on the present, waiting anxiously for Norah to awaken. He longed to see her eyes open and reassure himself that she was safe and unharmed. Even in the face of uncertainty and danger, he couldn't deny the profound connection he felt with her. He had only known this woman, this werewolf, a precious day at best, and already, she was leaving quite an impression on him.
As time ticked away, he steeled himself for the difficult decisions and actions that lay ahead.
It felt like an interminable wait before the sound of his family's house-elf's light footsteps could be heard coming from somewhere behind him. Ollie furrowed his brows and twisted his neck to look behind, and he was pleased to see the prickly creature had obeyed his orders and was carrying a heavily laden supper tray bearing a bowl of chicken soup.
Yet it was the house-elf's fretted expression on his wrinkled face and the way his large, bat-like ears were drooping that told Ollie something was amiss. Kreacher paused to set the tray of food down on a small wooden table beside the sofa and gave an awkward bow, the tips of his large ears gracing the floor. He spoke with utmost urgency in his warbling voice.
"Master Black, the Dark Lord calls for you. He demands that you speak with him immediately," Kreacher announced, his voice now quivering with fear.
Ollie felt the blood drain from his face as his eyes narrowed, a mix of fury and determination flashing in his gaze. He knew he could not ignore the summons, no matter how much he wanted to stay by Norah's side and have his face be the first thing she sees when she woke up. But his Dark Mark seared his forearm, intensifying the longer he lingered here and delayed showing himself at his master's side.
"Fine, Kreacher. Tell the Dark Lord I will be there," Ollie bit out irritably through gritted teeth, suppressing the anger bubbling inside of him. "But you will look after Norah while I'm gone," he commanded as he reluctantly rose to his feet.
Out of the corner of his gaze, as he currently had eyes only for Norah, he watched as Kreacher bowed low again, sensing the gravity of the situation, before scampering away to some unknown part of the house to deliver Ollie's message to the Dark Lord.
With a heavy heart, Ollie tore his gaze away from Norah and made to turn away. But something gave him pause, and before he could stop himself, he turned on his heels and walked to her side, kneeling to gently brush a lock of her blonde hair that had fallen over her forehead. He felt a deep ache in his chest at the sight of the witch's unconscious form.
"I promise, Norah, I will do everything in my power to protect you," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "Dolohov won't touch you again. This will not be the end. I will be here by your side when you wake up," Ollie promised.
With what seemed like a great exertion of willpower, the wizard reluctantly straightened his gait and turned away, making his way to the front door. He paused to glance over his shoulder for one last look at Norah before stepping outside his cottage, his resolve firm and his mind now focused on facing whatever awaited him.
As he closed the door behind him and steeled his nerves, preparing to Disapparate to appear at Lord Voldemort's side, he could not help but feel the enormous weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Norah's fate and his as well rested on his actions, and he knew there was no turning back. But even amidst the looming darkness, as he closed his eyes and forced himself to Disapparate once more to Malfoy Manor, every fiber of his being was now tethered to the blonde werewolf inside his home, sleeping on his sofa, hoping for her safety. He let himself whisper a feeble prayer that he would not be gone from her side for too long as he Disapparated.
As Ollie left, rain began to fall, matching the turmoil in his heart.