Oliver Campbell just wants to have two more peaceful years at Hogwarts with his best friends before they all part ways. But that's hard to have when the Golden Trio are at Hogwarts, too, and everyone is worrying about the return of Lord Voldemort.
I...
So, after dinner one evening, Oliver managed to catch Andrew before he disappeared with the crowd of Gryffindors piling out of the Great Hall. "Can we talk?" he asked him.
Andrew shrugged. "About what?"
Oliver shot him a serious look. "You know what, Andy."
The Gryffindor boy resisted the urge to say something snarky, so he merely huffed a sigh in defeat. "Fine." He followed Oliver away from the students and to a quiet spot in the corridor. "So, what is it?"
"I just wanted to check on you," Oliver replied.
"Well, you already know how I'm doing, so what's the point in asking?" he retorted.
"Because we're all worried about you, that's why," Oliver answered. "Just talk to me, mate."
Andrew leaned back against the wall, clenching his fists. "I'm angry. I think about that night and the flashbacks of what happened just occur over and over again and it makes me angry. I was the only one there with the most knowledge about magic and I couldn't save any of them. Those Death Eaters invaded my home, murdered my family, and I still get to live?" Andrew slid down the wall and sat there, his knees up to his chest. "It's not fair, Oliver, and it never will be."
Oliver gave his friend a sad look and sat down next to him. He was silent for a moment, then sighed. "You know, I blame myself for Fiona's death. Although, I can never really explain it, since I don't know what exactly happened to her, but I feel like I had something to do with it, like it was my magic that caused her death."
A weight was lifted off of Oliver's chest. He hardly talked about Fiona. It was only in his thoughts when he wondered what she would've been like now. He imagined that if she was a witch, then she would've excelled at Hogwarts, pushing to be great at her classes and even Quidditch, if she chose to play the sport (and maybe she would have given Jacob and Andrew and run for their money). He saw her in Ravenclaw with him, having study sessions and figuring out the riddle each time they went to the Ravenclaw Tower. Oliver felt robbed of his time with Fiona, so he was angry, too.
"Does it ever go away?" Andrew asked. "The pain? The anger? Any of it?"
Oliver scoffed, even letting out a small chuckle. "If only it was that easy." He paused. "But we all have to deal with it. I know it's tough and it always will be, but you're strong, Andy. You've always been strong. We all want you to push through this, and we know you can." Oliver took a deep breath. "Sarah would want you to be strong. She'll be with you, always, just like Fiona is always with me."
Andrew began to tear up, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Yeah, she would want me to be strong." He sighed. "I miss her so much. I mean, I miss the rest of my family, too, but Sarah and I...we understood each other, you know? With Hogwarts and magic and all."
Oliver nodded. "I get it." He placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder. "You'll get through this, mate, and we're all here for you."
The Gryffindor stared at his best friend and eventually nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry that--"
"No, don't apologize for grieving," Oliver stopped him.
Andrew let a small smile creep up on his face. "Okay." The two stood up and brushed their robes from the dust and dirt that was on the cold floor. Andrew sighed. "I'm really glad we had this talk. Thanks for listening, Ollie."
Oliver gave him a weak smile. "Me, too, and you know I'm always here for you."
He nodded. "So I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said.
"Tomorrow."
With that, the boys parted ways, feeling a sense of relief that Andrew was on his way to healing. Oliver knew that everyone else would be pleased to hear that was the case.
When he got back to his dorm, he got in his pajamas and tucked himself into bed. He was staring up at the ceiling, thinking about him in another life where Fiona was thriving by his side.
He cried himself to sleep that night with the image of his sister etched in his mind.
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A/N: Well, this chapter was bittersweet.
This chapter was supposed to go in another direction, but as I got writing, I knew I had to include Andrew's grief. So I think I'll write my original idea for this chapter in the next chapter.
Sorry if you think the way I wrote his grieving in an inaccurate way, but this is how I pictured it as I was writing it.
Song above is What Hurts the Most (Rascal Flatts' version). I thought the lyrics were fitting for both Oliver and Andrew.
