Two days later, Oliver found himself suiting up for Puddlemere United's next match. He swallowed nervously as he strapped his knee guards on and ignored some of the anxious chatter within the locker room, his thoughts wavering between his gameplan and his dad.
His stomach contorted into knots, but he was grateful that Katie had forced him to eat breakfast in the morning, even if it was just eggs and toast. The last thing he needed was to be lightheaded from not eating. His head was dizzy enough as it was.
Katie had spent the last two nights at Oliver's. It was clear to her that he wanted her company; not in a lonely or even needy manner, but Katie suspected he didn't want to be alone. And though Oliver didn't outright ask her to continue to stay, he didn't make any plea for her to go home.
He also didn't discuss his father much until the morning of the match.
It was his first match since his father's death and the press had made sure to make note of that. The Daily Prophet ran a headline pondering if Oliver was rushing back too quickly after such a tragedy, while The Quibbler wondered if wrackspurts were causing Oliver to think irrationally.
"It'll be all right," Katie tried to reassure him over breakfast. "Remember, your dad's proud of you no matter what."
Her words were soon forgotten. Oliver played terribly, allowing a season-high nine goals during the match. He was lucky that Ballycastle's defense was among the worst in the league, and that Puddlemere's Seeker managed to pull off a spectacular catch to end the match in Puddlemere's favor.
Still, despite the win, Oliver was disgusted by his performance. He trudged into the locker rooms and threw his guards on the ground, slinking into the showers without a word to his teammates.
Maybe he had returned to quidditch too quickly. He had felt fine, even though he was still hurting over his father's death. He thought he could return to business as usual, but from the first whistle of the match, his head had felt foggy and he struggled to concentrate.
Now, everyone would think he wasn't all right from his father's death. Oliver didn't typically care what the press wrote about him, but a matter so personal felt different this time.
When he dressed and returned to his locker, Angelina was waiting for him.
"You didn't try to drown yourself this time," she noted. Oliver didn't respond. "Come on, Wood. It's all right. The win is all that matters."
"Tell that to the reporters out there waiting on me," Oliver replied tersely.
"The press room's cleared out now. They've all left. Besides, forget them. Since when are you worried about the media?"
"Since they decided to run stories about my dad dying."
"All those stories are stupid, outside noise. You know that. You can't let them get to you," Angelina said, taking a seat next to Oliver on the bench. The rest of the team had cleared out, off to celebrate the victory, but Angelina had known that Oliver wasn't happy with himself.
"I just feel like they've made it so personal," Oliver noted. "They're like grindylows, just waiting to surround and attack."
"Even so, you can't let them get the best of you. You're too good for that. They'll move on to a new story within a day or two anyway."
Oliver sighed. "I know. I'm just tired of them. They come for Katie. They come for me. They bring up my dad. It's all so invasive."
"Speaking of Katie, she's outside waiting," Angelina said, hoping that would motivate Oliver to get up. "Let's get going."
Oliver shut his locker and followed after Angelina, who led him outside where they were dismayed to find reporters lingering in hopes of cornering Oliver.
"There you are!" Katie waved at the pair with George in tow. "These reporters are getting on my last nerve."
"Sorry," Oliver apologized. "I didn't realize they were waiting on me."
"Oliver!" a reporter shouted. "Oliver, do you care to comment on your performance today?"
"Oliver!" another called. "Were you thinking of your dad?"
Katie glared at them. "Absolutely disgusting," she said. "Preying on someone who's suffered a terrible loss. They're nothing but leeches."
"I don't have any comment," Oliver called out to the group of reporters. His voice was steady and firm, though he could feel the anxiety bubbling in his chest.
"Do you think you rushed back to quidditch?" the first reporter pressed.
"What do you think your dad would say?" another called. "Do you think he'd be disappointed in you?"
"Oh, you vile, evil troll!" Katie snapped. Angelina gasped as Katie whipped around toward the reporter. Before Angelina could stop her, Katie was swinging a hand at him. Her open palm made hard contact with the man, who staggered backward in shock as George hurriedly pulled Katie away by the arm.
"Katie!" he exclaimed, though his expression suggested that he was clearly enjoying the moment.
"You can't attack a reporter!" Angelina cried worriedly. Cameras flashed and she knew Katie would be in the papers the next day.
Meanwhile, the crowd remained stunned, some lingering to see what would happen next, others scattering away. Laughter could be heard in pockets among the crowd while others checked on the reporter.
The group dragged Katie away into the tunnel to head home.
"That was brilliant!" George said as the crowd noise grew faint in the distance.
"The absolute nerve of that oaf!" Katie remained heated. "What paper did he work for? I ought to write them and let them know how unprofessional and out of line he was. He-"
"Katie, calm down," Angelina said in her most soothing tone. "It's over. For now… though you really shouldn't have done that, especially in front of the cameras."
"I don't care," Katie snapped. She meant it. She didn't care if the press wrote stories about how mad or unhinged she was. "How dare they behave like that. Completely insensitive. Don't they realize Oliver's a human being?"
"I know," Angelina continued calmly. "But reacting like that – smacking a guy – they're going to run with that for days, weeks, even."
"I don't care," Katie repeated slowly. "I know you and Oliver can't react like that, but I can. Maybe I shouldn't but I don't care. They need to know they aren't going to get away with that kind of behavior."
Angelina fell silent as she realized there was no reasoning with Katie, who walked at a brisk, angry pace. George was practically skipping with glee behind her and Oliver trudged quietly at the rear of the group.
When it came time to part ways, Angelina looked warily at her friends. "Are you two going to be all right?" she asked.
"We'll be fine," Katie answered. Oliver remained silent and Angelina's gaze lingered on him briefly.
"All right," she finally said, taking George's arm. "I'll check in on you two tomorrow."
"Good night," Katie said as George bowed to her.
By the time they reached Oliver's flat, he still hadn't said a word. Katie was very aware of this, but was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to address it.
They entered the flat without word, Katie tossing her sweater on the back of a chair while Oliver sat quietly on the sofa. It wasn't until Katie took a moment to study him that her annoyed expression shifted to concern.
"Are you all right?" she asked guiltily. It suddenly dawned on her that she'd taken an already terrible moment for Oliver and made it worse by making it about herself – not that she'd meant to, but she hadn't really considered Oliver's feelings when she slapped the reporter.
"I… don't know," Oliver admitted blankly. His expression matched his tone and he heaved a sigh. "I'm tired of everyone asking me if I'm all right, because I really don't know the answer."
"I'm sorry," Katie said. "Not just for asking if you're all right but for, you know, what happened back there."
Oliver shrugged, indicating he wasn't upset by Katie's run-in with the reporter. Katie motioned him to sit on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath herself as she sat. She didn't speak, but gazed at Oliver intently to patiently encourage him to continue.
"I just feel… exhausted," Oliver finally admitted. "I feel as if the tiniest tasks are impossible."
Katie nodded. "You've been through a lot, Ol."
"I know, but people have been through worse."
"That doesn't invalidate the way you're feeling, though," Katie pointed out. "You're allowed to grieve and feel bad. It doesn't mean you're feeling sorry for yourself or disregarding others."
Oliver nodded quietly as he mulled her words over.
"I struggled with those same feelings," Katie continued. "Back when Fred died… I felt so depressed and struggled to get out of bed. Life felt unbearable. I kept thinking, 'How do I go on without one of my best friends?' But then I felt so guilty because I knew the Weasleys were feeling even worse. I felt like I should be strong for them, and for everyone else who lost someone in the war. Some people lost their entire families and I felt bad, when in reality, my grief was still valid."
"You went through a lot too back then," Oliver noted. "The necklace… then the war. No one was judging you for how you handled all that… at least no one who cared about you."
"Exactly," Katie said. "No one who cares about you is judging you for how you're feeling or handling yourself right now, Oliver. You've been through something terrible and you're trying to be strong for your family. We know that and the press is just being the insufferable trolls they are. It's not fair that you have to deal with them, but you do need to grieve in the way that's best for you."
"Do you think I should have played today?" Oliver asked suddenly.
"Yes," Katie said without hesitation. "Because even though you didn't play great, and even though you feel awful now, I think you needed to do something that felt normal to you, even if life isn't normal right now, and even if you think you need a break now."
Oliver nodded. "I don't regret playing today. I wanted to. I needed to. I needed to make an attempt at normalcy. I just… I feel like I'm living in a shell of myself right now."
"You just need time," Katie said. "Everything you're feeling is valid, but it's also overwhelming."
"So do I just push through it and keep trying to return to normal, or do I take time off?" Oliver asked.
Katie bit her lip thoughtfully. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think you have to decide that."
"I don't want to let the team down, but I guess I kind of did that today anyway," Oliver said.
"You need to do what's best for you," Katie pointed out. She thought for a moment. "What if you took a trip? Just a quick one, for a few days? Maybe a little getaway would be good for you."
Oliver was taken aback. He never would have entertained such an idea during the season with the playoffs approaching, but maybe Katie was right. Maybe he just needed a few days to clear his head and recharge.
"The press will lose their minds if they find out," Oliver said slowly. "But I suppose this isn't about them, is it?"
"Exactly."
"Some warm weather would be nice."
"Exactly."
"Will you come with me?"
"Huh?"
"Will you come with me?"
Katie blinked. She hadn't meant for them to take a trip together. She meant that Oliver could benefit from some time to himself. Not that she didn't want to go, but a couple's getaway felt too romantic for two people who were just friends.
"You want me to go with you?" Katie asked stupidly.
"Well sure, why not? It could be fun and it's not like anyone would be surprised to see us traveling together. At this point, it'd probably look more bizarre if I were alone," Oliver said.
"You're sure you wouldn't rather be alone?"
"I'm sure."
"Well, all right," Katie agreed. "Work needs me, but I suppose a few more days away won't be the end of the world."
Oliver grinned at her. "You just slapped a reporter in front of dozens of people and will undoubtedly be on the cover of The Prophet tomorrow. You're going to need a vacation, too."