Harry nodded. At least Oliver knew what he had done. It was a little more like the boy he used to know.
"Stay away from us. Him and me. He doesn't deserve more pain right now and I-"
Across the field, Oliver looked like a shell of the person Harry had come to know over the years. Where he had once been tall and strong, now Oliver appeared stooped and haunted. Harry supposed that the guilt of Oliver's non-actions had just caught up with him. Some part of the other man must still care for Faelan, and that also reminded Harry of a younger Oliver, a person he used to look up to as more than a Quidditch captain.
"I don't want to hurt you."
With a shake of his head, Harry dissolved, Apparating away from the secluded plain in hopes of beating Faelan home and presenting his friend with a large dinner. It was all he could do for either of them.