InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "FOOL! i mean YAY!"

Oliver Wood (die__trying) wrote in snark_n_bark,
@ 2009-02-16 20:40:00

Entry tags:

faelan, oliver

He ain't heavy
Characters: Oliver and Faelan
Summary: The Wood brothers have a chat

Oliver stopped just outside the nursery and pulled the oft-refolded notes from an inside pocket. The owl post with Harry from last week. He felt like a big girl about it, rereading the notes they'd sent back and forth, but that hadn't stopped him from doing it. In the absence of actually being able to see Harry, it was the next best thing.

It was going to be fine. He'd touch base with Faelan and see if there was anything he could do to help him through what had been, undeniably, an incredibly rough few months. Then he'd get his brother's opinion on carrying on with Harry, and if it was early enough, Disapparate straight to Haven's Loft to give Harry the news in person.

On a deeply inhaled breath, Oliver tucked the notes away and made his way inside, looking around for his brother.

"Fae? You here mate?"

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runaway_cub
2009-02-16 09:19 pm UTC (link)

Faelan wasn't really sure how to admit that he'd missed Oliver too, when he still felt like he barely knew his brother. There was always, still, the deep down fear that his brother would leave him, or that Harry would, and that terror, which had sharpened substantially when Sirius left, was so agonizing now that he could hardly breathe. Padma had left too, and it felt like he was always holding onto people with invisible strings, impossibly thin, which could snap irreparably at any moment. It never occurred to him that some people could be just as desperate to hold on to the string at the other end, when others had let it go so easily.

Life was always so confusing.

"I haven't been following the scores very well. I'm sorry."

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die__trying
2009-02-16 09:25 pm UTC (link)

"Don't worry about it," Oliver said with a smile, waving his hand. "The league standings are hardly vital to the well being of anyone. Except the sports writer for the Prophet perhaps."

He felt the notes in his pocket practically burning their way through his shirt and tried to decide if he should broach the subject or not. Half of him was tempted to keep it for later, but the other half wanted answers, wanted to move forward. Still, he wasn't about to blurt it straight out.

"You do know that any time you want to come see a match all you need to do is owl me, yeah?"

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runaway_cub
2009-02-16 09:34 pm UTC (link)

"Yeah, sure," Faelan answered with a smile. It was actually funny to think of how resistant he'd been to the idea of Quidditch only a little over a year ago, when the idea of a match now seemed like a non-event.

Silence fell for a moment and Faelan looked up, feeling his brother's deep concern like a breath of air. It felt better than Faelan ever could have admitted, or imagined. Maybe he did need people more than he thought, but it was still so hard to trust anyone other than himself. How could he learn to balance such conflicting emotions?

"You sure you don't want some tea or something?" A few minutes ago, he hadn't wanted to see his brother at all, but now he found that he wasn't quite ready for him to leave.

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