chapter twenty-seven | a war is coming

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The next morning was heartbreaking for everyone.

The deaths of Albus Dumbledore and Tobias Fowler were all over the papers. No one was surprised, as news in the Wizarding world tended to spread rather fast. It was all anyone talked about, seeing their bodies on the ground, with their wands raised to the sky, even for Tobias. While he was on the wrong side of things, he was still human, as well as Mary's brother.

His body was claimed by his parents the night before, planning to have him buried in America. It made sense, according to Eliza, with him being born there. The five group of friends wondered if Mary even knew he was dead.

Oliver thought about Mary up until Dumbledore's funeral. He didn't see her anywhere last night, which he thought was odd. Then again, Draco Malfoy wasn't around, either, but that didn't surprise him, with the way he talked about Dumbledore through his snarky comments. But during the service, neither one of them showed up.

It was odd and suspicious, but there was no time to worry about that. Instead, remembering Dumbledore was on his mind. He let the words of Professor McGonagall stick into his brain, each word lingering in the air as she went on. He wondered if everything she was saying about the former headmaster stuck with the other students, too.

Once the service was over, everyone was heading back to the castle. However, Oliver remained by the shore of the Black Lake, simply standing there, looking down at his feet. He huffed a sigh, remembering how the beginning of this year was so different and how for once a normal year was all he wanted. With Harry Potter at Hogwarts, there was already a small flame, with more ready to be ignited.

Then, Mary Fowler showed up. To Oliver, she was gasoline that added fuel to the fire.

"Hey," Eliza greeted him from behind.

He turned around and gave her a nod. "Hey."

"We're leaving for the train soon, you know," she told him.

"I know," he simply replied. "Liza, my parents are moving back to Scotland."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

He nodded his head. "They also suggested that I move with them."

Eliza moved some hair behind her ear, clearing her throat. "Are you going to do it?"

Oliver scoffed in response, looking at Eliza. "How can I, especially with this war on the way? Besides, as Muggle-borns, we wouldn't be safe anywhere, and since the school is in Scotland, maybe staying in England is what's best for us."

The girl crossed her arms and nodded in agreement. "You're right, which is why the Hamiltons are offering us to go stay with them. You know, we need protection, and our parents need to be safe from all of this before it gets any worse."

The thought of their blood status making them a bigger target to You-Know-Who and Death Eaters made Oliver's blood boil and curdle at the same time. If anything, his parents became more of a concern the more he thought about it.

"If only there was a way we could protect our parents from all of this," he admitted.

"Yeah, if only..." Eliza agreed.

The two took a moment to stare out at the glistening water ahead of them. They remained quiet, taking in the beautiful day for a sad occasion. Oliver looked down and was tempted to take Eliza's hand, his fingers close to her own. The longer they stood there, the more comforting Eliza was to Oliver.

"Oliver? Eliza?"

They turned around and saw Hermione was the one to call out their names. She was walking along the shore, still in her dress from the funeral.

When Fire Meets Gasoline | Wizarding WorldOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora