Chapter Nine: Ignition Point

After Laurel went away, Oliver stayed behind until night fell as his mind replayed their conversation endlessly. He committed every shift in her expression to memory; every stare filled with conflicting emotions and every pained word exchanged. He wasn't naïve enough to think everything would resolve itself in a flash – nor did he think he deserved that much yet anyway – but it still surprised him how… cathartic the experience had been, in a sense. Finally, the guilt that had compounded year after year had some semblance of an escape valve. Laurel's attitude had also surprised him. He was sure she would've admonished him, called him every insult imaginable, and then severed their ties forever for what happened. Instead, she listened.

That meant more to Oliver than she could ever know.

The walk back to the house was somehow both a long, lonesome affair and over far too quickly for Oliver's liking. His feet led him by instinct and he only realized he had arrived when he found himself in front of the rear door to the house. He rubbed his eyes and straightened his shoulders before walking up the landing and going through the door. Oliver wasn't surprised that he'd been met in the kitchen by an overly curious Thea looking to get all the details on his reunion with Laurel. If there was one thing Thea was good for, even as a little kid, it was gossip. She had always been rooting for Oliver and Laurel to eventually get married, mostly because it meant Laurel would get to be her sister-in-law.

It wasn't Thea's fault that Oliver had destroyed the relationship, and based on the mile-wide grin plastered on the girl's face he had a feeling she was holding out hope they could work things out.

"So… how'd it go?" Thea asked, having barely even waited for him to cross the threshold before doing so. She then took a bite out of an apple in her hand as she sat in one of the wooden chairs, leaning back to balance on it precariously. He shut the door with a sigh then leaned back into it, eyes closed. "Ouch, I figured one of these days your Casanova ways would fail but I didn't think Laurel would be the one to break your streak. What happened?"

"What do you mean, what happened? What did you expect to happen?" he asked, running his hands back through his hair. "Wasn't exactly destined for a happy reunion."

"Come on, don't try to sell me on all that fatalistic nonsense. You two used to look like you were going to be the picture-perfect definition of happily-ever-after when you were together. There's no way the Ollie I know would let that go without a fight." Her eyes suddenly grew wide, her voice now laced with shock. "Oh god, what did you say?" Oliver waved his hand, cutting her off. The last thing he needed was a lecture from her, especially after seeing Laurel. He began walking towards the stairs, causing Thea to raise her arms in confusion. "Hey! Ollie!"

"What does it matter, Speedy?" Oliver said, voice heavy with resignation.

"What does it matter?" Thea echoed, incredulity dripping from her every word. "You can't be serious. Hello? Laurel Lance? The woman who billionaire Oliver Queen was head-over-heels in love with – more than any of his past flings, I might add – and was willing to marry with no strings or scandals attached to it? You were crazy about her; still are if the way your face lit up the moment you saw her was any indication!" She raced after her brother up the stairs, frustration evident in every step. "That isn't the face someone makes when they're over their ex."

Oliver paused, his steps slowing as he turned towards his sister. "I didn't say I was over her," he admitted quietly. "What part of I slept with her sister don't you get?"

"Oh, believe me, I do get that. But you seem to have forgotten that you pulled similarly stupid shit before. Remember Emma and Marina? No? Well, I do. I also remember when dad caught you stealing his Bentley so you could drive to Emma's house and run away together to prove how 'sorry you were'." Thea flexed her fingers in air-quotes before continuing, "So excuse me for thinking that you would have been jumping through hoops to win Laurel back." She rolled her eyes, her frustration mounting as Oliver shook his head and continued towards his room.

"There's nothing I can do besides give her space," Oliver explained wearily as he stepped through the threshold to his room. Thea followed closely behind, shutting the door with a decisive click. Oliver wanted to laugh at the gesture. Did she think he was trapped now and had nowhere else to go to avoid all of this?

He glanced at the window for a moment, briefly considering the idea of jumping out to avoid the rest of this conversation. But he sighed; it would only be a waste of time.

"Alright, clearly something is up with this whole thing. So, give it to me straight: you're giving up on her?" Thea asked, her eyebrow raised as she fixed her gaze on her brother as he sat down at his desk. He looked up, his expression guarded as he took in a deep breath.

"There's a difference between giving up and facing reality, Speedy…" he explained with a fluttering tap of his fingers on the oak surface. "This is me facing reality."

"Y'know, I would've been more inclined to believe you if I hadn't heard you say something similar to mom and dad nearly every time you came back after leaving a broken heart behind somewhere. So, sue me for thinking that you're saying 'fuck it' and letting her walk away cause, I don't know about you, but that sounds like you're giving up to me."

Oliver let out a tired groan; he didn't want to argue with her over this right now. As much as he wanted to fix things with Laurel, she was not ready to talk to him and quite frankly neither was he.

"Think about it from her side. The man that cheated on her with her sister and caused her death, just came back from the dead and is back in town. That opens up old wounds, and all pushing the matter right now is going to do is hurt her more; I don't want to do that to her… I can't hurt her anymore, Thea." Oliver pursed his lips, clenching his fist beneath the table out of Thea's view at the thought of the pain he'd caused her. The look on her face when she first saw him today flashed in the back of his head and only made that overwhelming sense of self-loathing that much stronger. "I'm not giving up, but I'm not enough of an idiot to think she's ready to face me. I thought I was ready, but I think it's clear we both need time before we can deal with the past."

Thea was silent as she studied him with a deep look that Oliver could admit he had hardly seen his sister wear before. He held her gaze during this impromptu staring contest and, eventually, Thea must have found something because her eyes widened as her lips finally parted to speak.

"You really believe that…" Thea said, almost in a whisper, "I– Oh my God, I can't believe you're actually serious and not just bullshitting your way out of your issues without meaning any of it." She took a moment to compose herself as her mind now whirled and the pieces from everything that happened clicked in place. When she looked at Oliver again, her eyes flashed in a mixture of emotions before they settled on affection and pride. "When did you grow up?"

"I had to do it at some point… I just wish I'd done it sooner." he replied solemnly.

"Oh Ollie…" Thea suddenly crossed what little distance was between them and pulled Oliver into a hug.

His body stiffened in response, muscles twitching into action. Oliver's breath hitched for a moment in unison to his hand clenching into a fist; this was a safe place, there was no danger here. After a moment, he exhaled softly to wrap his arms around his sister. Oliver couldn't really remember the last time he had Thea comfort him this way. He could, however, say that he'd dearly missed this. Love. Safety. Family. The flood of emotions from his conversation with Laurel coupled with this tender moment came crashing back into him once more. It made Oliver feel his eyes mist and a lump get lodged in his throat. He tried to hold it all back, but he wasn't as successful as he thought because soon Thea was stroking his back to soothe him.

"Hey, come on. Don't beat yourself so hard. Better late than never, right? Besides, I must say that I kinda like what little bit I've seen of this new and improved Oliver…" she smiled warmly at him once she pulled back. The two shared a few more moments in silence to show each appreciated the other, before Thea began walking to the door. She paused briefly in the doorway, turning back towards him. "Just give it some time, I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"Night, Speedy… and-" Oliver looked her in the eye one last time in hopes to convey everything he couldn't in simple words, "Thank you."

"Always." Thea sent him a full, tender smile. "Goodnight, Ollie."

Once Oliver made sure she was gone, he opened the book lying on his desk and turned to the bookmarked page full of names. He turned his monitor on to reveal an article about Adam Hunt and the CNRI class-action suit. Glancing down at the book, Oliver gritted his teeth at the sight of Hunt's name being on the List.

Thea was right. He would figure something out to help Laurel in the long run, but it wouldn't be Oliver Queen that did so…

Harry woke up with a gasp to find himself in the cave. He could feel the rumble of hunger in his stomach as he rolled onto his uninjured side — not that he wasn't hurting all over, but at least that side didn't feel like his arm was being torn off when he laid on it. Oliver was across from him, staring blankly at the ceiling. Wait, Oliver was here?

A litany of questions raced through his head all at once. How did Oliver get here? Where were they? Were they safe? What happened to the hooded archer that saved him? Thinking of the archer made Harry remember what happened right before he blacked out, and glanced at his shoulder to see a sticky paste covering the wound on his chest. Harry shuddered lightly, unsure if it was because he was cold or the thought he'd actually taken an arrow to the chest.

And so, he pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned his attention towards the young man lying across him. Oliver looked tired, no, downright exhausted; he looked like he hadn't slept much if at all. Harry would have sworn that Oliver was a statue if not for the occasional rise and fall of his chest.

"Oliver?" he called quietly, his voice weak and raspy. It took a second but Oliver raised his head. He gave a slight nod to the wizard as he sat up.

"Hey, are you okay?" Oliver asked. Harry shook his head yes, taking in a deep breath as he continued to examine his shirt. Half of the dull baby-blue fabric was stained with red.

"I guess."

"Looks like I wasn't the only one he used for target practice," the man chuckled dryly, adjusting his position to where he was able to reveal the similar wound on his chest. Surprisingly, the wounds were in the same location on both their persons. "Shoots us, then patches us up… what's his deal?"

"I think," Harry started, pausing momentarily with thinned lips. He was unsure whether to wager this, because the last few days have been nothing short of a whirlwind and he's not sure of anything at this point. There's this feeling in his gut that he can't quite ignore, and he'd been told before to trust that feeling. "I think he was trying to save us."

"Save us from what?" Oliver raised an eyebrow, as Harry gulped lightly and sat up.

"That's just it, I don't know. All I know is we're not the only ones on this island." the teen's voice became grim, as he pulled his sleeve down to make sure the tatau was hidden from Oliver.

"Wait, there's other people on the island?"

"Yeah, and if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't be alive right now."

Harry exhaled slowly as he washed his face in the bathroom. He'd made himself scarce once Oliver had started talking to Laurel. If there was one thing he'd learned over the last five years was that any relationship Oliver Queen was involved in tended to turn messy. When the first thing somebody finds out about their fellow castaway is that the girl he came onto the yacht with was his girlfriend's sister, that much becomes clear.

Maybe it was Oliver's relationships that had made Harry glad he'd never gotten into one. He'd fooled around with a few girls here and there when he had the opportunity, but never had it been serious. There'd only been three girls that he would have been serious with if he was given the opportunity; okay, well two girls, but the third was only excluded because it was a quasi-choice.

The first one to flash through his mind was one he knew well. Funnily enough, it wasn't her features that he focused on, even if she was beautiful and had a kind smile and a cute laugh. No, the first thing he remembered was how comfortable she made him feel. When he dove head-first into a brand-new world of magic, she was right there with him every step of the way. Through all the trials, tribulations, classes, and a million other things… there she was. Dependable and by his side. He could count on one hand the number of people that Harry could say have done half as much as she has for him and all for selfless reasons. Because she was a friend.

Now, he wouldn't lie and say it had been a seamless thing; she was a know it all and felt a compulsive need to speak her mind when those she was fond of – the few of us that we were – were being idiots but… it was endearing. Looking back, with a different perspective and a more mature mind, Harry felt nothing but fondness for all the scolding and exasperated comments she'd thrown his way; always followed by a smile and a twinkle in her eyes when he assured her it was going to be fine, and they'd come out of an adventure unscathed. Well… usually. When she was there things were never so bright, but when she was gone, he felt adrift at sea under a starless sky… which looking back at it was funny in a way, given what had happened after they last spoke to one another.

He thought about her a lot on the island, perhaps in a similar way to how Oliver thought of Laurel. He thought about what he'd say if they saw one another again, what they'd do, or how their friendship would change after such an experience. In the end, however, he vowed to himself to let her go. It hurt and he found himself dreading the thought of never seeing her again, but, in the end, he convinced himself it was for the best. Harry would never forgive himself if he dragged her into this darkness that his life had violently veered off into. Her heart was full of kindness and her caring spirit would shatter into a million pieces if she knew what he'd become.

The thought of that happening hurt far more than Harry cared to admit and suddenly… letting her go wasn't such a painful decision anymore. Ultimately, he could imagine himself having found a home with her in another life — just not this one. As he said before, it was just another promise he couldn't keep.

The second was the one who had rescued him at his most vulnerable. She had penetrated the barriers he had erected as the tatau's influence deepened. Though she managed to save him from his own fury, it was another's anger that claimed her life. Oliver mentioned, just once and carefully, that had they met when Harry was fully matured, they might have become quite the couple. Their bond was profound and complex, hinting at what might have been more under different circumstances. To this day, Harry still wore the necklace she had given him, a symbol of their connection, never intending to part with it.

Then there was the third. Just the thought of her made Harry smile. She was as ferocious as hellfire, moving in combat with the kinetic energy of a waterfall and the gracefulness of a dancer; an astute mind that challenged him in more ways than one; blunt and rough around the edges, but that was due in part to how she'd grown up. Most would find her difficult, to put it simply, but for Harry she was more than that. It wasn't often he found himself comfortable enough to let someone in and see the real him. With her, he could be himself… there were no expectations. He could sit there and relax; talking was easy. Hell, sometimes they didn't need to say a word. As far as their relationship went, she was his best friend alongside Oliver. She'd seen the monster he fought every day to hide, and rather than flinching away from it, she embraced it without a second thought. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't find it in him to fully commit — to be with her would require him to step up and take a responsibility he didn't feel ready for, not yet anyway.

Harry wiped his face off with a towel, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and began making his way to Oliver's room. They needed to talk about their next step while the rest of the household was asleep. He knocked on the door lightly, stepping through when he heard Oliver's faint 'come in.'

"Hey," Oliver smiled at him softly. Harry shut the door behind him, placing his back against the door. "What's up?"

"Just need to check on something."

"Shoot." the billionaire motioned at the chair. Harry took his seat and sighed. "What's on your mind?"

"I can get the supplies we need to get started, but I need a location to send them to; and I know you wanted us to get things set up together — but I don't see that happening right now with Moira watching you like a hawk." Harry explained. "How's the Steel Mill look? Think it'll work?"

Oliver nodded, resting his chin on his hands. "I think so. Tommy said the building's been abandoned since it shut down, and there's currently no plans on the property being acquired. If we play our cards right, we can use the building, but we'll need to get the land to be put in our name so-"

"-that way we can use it as an alibi and lessen the risk of being exposed, I remember." Harry finished. They'd talked about it in length shortly before they were picked up on the island, though their timing was altered. Originally, they wanted to settle in for at least a week or two before starting the mission, but that was out of the question now. "Are you okay with me going alone to deal with it?"

"Like I said, I'd prefer to be there to make sure it gets set up faster." the playboy rolled his eyes. "Then again, it's not like I'm going to be able to get back in without Mom interrogating me, so… it's probably for the best. You've always been quieter than I have, so it only makes sense."

Harry gave a smirk, noticing Oliver had the List open with a name being underlined. So, he finally found a target after all. Leaning forward some, he was able to discern Adam Hunt's name and pushed his tongue against his teeth. Of course it was Adam Hunt. He should've expected that once Laurel showed up.

"What?" Oliver asked, noticing Harry's judging glare at the book. "We needed a target, didn't we?"

"Ollie, is it smart to go after the guy your ex-girlfriend is currently prosecuting?" Harry asked, hoping the vigilante wouldn't take his question the wrong way. When Oliver stayed quiet for a moment longer than he would have liked, he feared it had until he was met with a shrug.

"I know it seems like a bad idea, but Adam Hunt has hurt a lot of people. We were going to go after him eventually, so I don't see a reason not to. The way I see it, it's a blessing in disguise." he explained. "Besides, I'm not letting my feelings get in the way of the mission."

"Okay," Harry held his hands up in defeat. "I get it. I just wanted to make sure. How do you want to do this?"

"I'll leave it up to you."

Harry nodded, finding Oliver's passive tone a little unnerving. Normally he was more assertive and as much as that bothered him, right now he was going to let it go and get things rolling. "Alright, I'll text you when I get there." He got up and went to the window, opening it up and taking one last look at his friend before taking that leap into the dark of night.

As far as unattainable desires went, Harry knew what kind of a toll it took on a person.

It was not the first time he'd dreamed about his parents. He couldn't remember what they'd looked like when he was a baby, but the first time he'd actually seen them he knew instantly that it was them. It was when he was hiding from Filtch and stumbled across the Mirror of Erised in one of the classrooms. To this day, he still remembered the smile his mother's image gave in the mirror.

Dumbledore had advised him to not look for the mirror again after it was moved. Harry didn't look for it, and instead found himself dreaming of his parents and what could have been. He imagined the trips they would take, the meals, the holidays, anything and everything that could come to mind. He especially dreamed of them while at the Dursleys, when he was loneliest.

Tonight, however, was different…

After waking up in the cave, Harry found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn't even remember falling asleep the last time. Opening his eyes, Harry found himself lying upon the edge of the water. It was the sensation of the early morning breeze blowing against his face that 'woke' him up. Glancing to his left, he could see the freshly made grave for Robert resting prominently on the ridge. However, to his surprise he could see the red-haired woman standing there with her hands clasped together in front of her looking his way. She smiled warmly at him as though she'd been waiting for him to wake up and made a motion with her head. Then, she began making her way towards the tree line.

"Mum?" he asked, scrambling to his feet. He rushed after her as fast as his legs would allow, leaving a rooster tail of sand in his wake. Harry felt weightless yet heavy as he followed her, the soft ethereal melody of his mother's humming echoing all along the shore. By the time he reached the tree line, she had disappeared. About five hundred feet ahead of him in the trees, however, was the Mirror of Erised. He knew what it was instantly, and his heart nearly sank into his stomach at the sight of it. What was it doing here?

Slowly approaching it, the humming was only growing stronger. He could feel it in his bones as the mirror was now only a few feet in front of him. In the pseudo-reflection, his mother was sitting close enough that Harry would almost swear he could reach out and touch her. Lily's head was pointed at the floor with the faintest hint of a smile; a twig beneath his foot broke, and she lifted her head to greet him.

"I was wondering when you'd catch up." she chuckled sweetly. Harry's eyes widened. He'd never heard her voice before, it was far more soothing than he anticipated. The sound of her voice made him feel like a kid, like he should have felt. He didn't even realize he was smiling as he crouched down and sat in front of her and the mirror.

His body moved to position himself like he had when he was eleven, legs tucked in underneath him and slightly leaned forward. "H-how is this-"

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Are you okay?" she asked, earning only a confused blink in response.

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Even as the words came out of his mouth, Harry could feel that he was lying to himself. Why did it feel like he was missing something? "Where's Dad?"

Lily didn't reply, instead continuing to look at him with worried eyes. Her lower lip curled slightly as she frowned. The visage moved a strand of her hair behind her shoulder and crossed her arms. She looked at his shoulder and her frown only deepened. "You're bleeding…" The words almost didn't reach him, but when it finally did his eyebrows furrowed.

He turned his head slowly to look at his shoulder, the color draining from his face as he caught a glimpse of the fresh blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt. It all came rushing back to him like a freight train, heralded by a burning pain rippling through his chest and the tightening of his stomach with an audible growl. His face contorted in anguish as he hunched over, falling upon the damp grass. The wizard's entire body trembled as he practically curled into a ball at the base of the mirror. No sound escaped his lips as he gasped for air.

"You need to fight…" Lily declared sternly, and Harry could only look up at his mother's image. She wasn't sporting a smile anymore, appearing frustrated. "Do you hear me, Harry? You need to fight."

The pain was becoming too much for Harry to bear as heat filled his arm. As he fell to the floor with a groan, he caught one last glimpse of his mother's image before everything went black.

She looked disappointed.