OLIVER WRIGHT

Regret coursed through her in a quick flash of shame. The touch had been meant to- soothe? Comfort? Eunji wasn’t sure, but she knew it hadn’t meant to draw the look that it did. Nose crinkled - entirely at herself this time, she turned her gaze away just as he did. She’d keep her awkward attempts at caring to herself.

She’d been told only enough to create more questions, bigger questions and smaller questions - the kind that ranged from ‘What kind of food do you like?’ to ‘Why doesn’t your mother speak up?’ - but she kept quiet and her curiosities remained unspoken. It was for the best - too much and too little had been said. Perhaps some processing time was in order.

And, after all, even with these little tidbits he’d given her more information than she’d ever given him. Both of them could likely feel the imbalance, because knowledge was power, and for some reason or other Oliver had chosen to make himself vulnerable first. It was an honour of sorts and it was a burden of sorts - either way, Eunji now felt indebted.

“I’d rather you not end up in Azkaban.” I’d be bored without you, she didn’t say. Eunji would forever be thankful that her embarrassment was all but invisible in this light. “So you’ll just have to find a better way to  fix things, won’t you?”

her hand was like fire on oliver’s bare skin. it brought him back to unwanted touches, cuts and bruises hidden under the cloak of his clothing. it reminded him of the concerned gazes he’d get from his primary school teachers once his personality had begun to mellow out. “are you not feeling yourself today?” they would ask him. “where has our smiley oliver gone?”

as the slytherin watched the waves, a sense of calmness washed over him. eunji’s touch was just that. a touch. there was nothing to be wary of, but oliver had to remind himself of that. he’d been too caught up in his memories that he’d forgotten to focus on the present. he had a new life already, one without his step-father in it. 

it was almost as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders -- and it wasn’t the loss of eunji’s hand. in a way it had felt good to spill his own secrets. but this was never a side of himself that he had intended to show to others. perhaps it was just the greek sun and dehydration. maybe it was the way the moonlight reflected upon the water. oliver glanced at the girl beside him. perhaps it was eunji.

Julian sorted through the assignments he had just collected from his 7th years. It was already late and dinner would have already started, but he would rather get this done now than come back to a messy classroom. He raised his wand and flicked it gently, watching as the blinds slid closed one by one. He frowned as the last one got stuck halfway down.

With a sigh, he slipped off his robes and laid them over the back of his chair, rolling up the sleeves on his grey jumper as he walked up the stairs that lead to the student’s seating. He walked along the rows, vanishing messes and loose papers as he went. Really, 7th years were definitely the messiest. He stopped right under the blind at the end of the row, scowling up at it. It had become tangled in the cords that held it up. With a more precise swish, he untangled them and brought the blinds sailing down.

With a satisfied nod, he turned and started making his way back to his desk. He stopped mid stride, blinking to himself as he tried to decide if he was imagining things. His students sometimes forgot their bags or robes his, it was the last class of the day after all and they were all eager to get a bite to eat. The black robes he had passed, however, seemed to have a little more to them than just fabric.

He turned on his heels and frowned back at the black mass. Ah, yes. That was definitely a puff of hair sticking out from under the hood. Jules sighed to himself as he put his hands on his hips and tried to figure out which trouble maker it was as he walked forwards. He reached out and gently tugged the hood off the head, blinking in surprise when he saw the face. 

Julian was embarrassed to realize he didn’t know the student’s name. It wasn’t someone he normally caught sleeping in his class. In all honesty, Julian wasn’t even %100 sure the student was a 7th year. How long had they been sleeping there? He watched as the student’s shoulders raised and fell, the sound of soft breathing much clearer now that Julian was standing right over them. The professor cleared his throat and gentle poked one of the student’s cheeks in an attempt to rouse them. “Excuse me, my child,” Julian said, a little louder than he normally would. “Are my lessons that boring?”

oliver had never been a big fan of studying. class was just class, nothing more and nothing less. sure, he’d aim for good grades, but that could wait a few more months. he was the type to cram last minute and would avoid spending too much time in the library. he knew he was smart. he didn’t need to study on the daily. 

it was his first day of classes after the christmas holidays and oliver was clearly out of practice when it came to staying attentive while listening to professors. a couple of weeks of freedom had fucked his sleeping pattern up and the thought to try to fix it had never crossed his mind. the worst thing that could happen would have been that he’d miss the first class or three of the day. that wouldn’t have been too bad. (he still woke up though.)

he had arrived to his charms lesson with a yawn, surprisingly having made it through the day without dropping off at any point. the class started reasonably well, with oliver occasionally messing around at the back as usual, a fellow slytherin getting told off on the opposite side of the classroom.

once the initial energy in the room started to die down, that was when oliver started to feel sleepiness take over. fingertips pushed at his temples before he resorted to resting his forehead on the desk, eventually pulling his hood up to cover the back of his exposed neck. january was cold. 

the next thing that oliver knew was that there was someone speaking to him. speaking very closely. a poke to the cheek had his eye crack open, a slow realisation hitting him. he’d fallen asleep. fucking great. still, it took a moment for his body to catch up with his brain; he lifted his head, only then processing the question proposed to him. 

Nights were chillier than she’d expected apparently, and goosebumps prickled up her arms - whether she should blame that on the breeze or on his words, Eunji didn’t know. She also didn’t quite know what to do with information like this because-

It was personal. For as long as she’d known him, they’d never delved into anything beyond vague arguments over vague taunts. For him to talk - not quite openly - but without reluctance about his family at all was new, and she wondered if veering away from normal topics was a good idea at all. 

Either way, there was no going back now.

“I doubt obliviation’s the answer. But- ” Her face was blank, but the thought of squeezing his knee in comfort brought the tiniest of scowls. She made do with his shoulder instead. “It’s not a bad want to have. To forget. Can’t blame you for it. Wouldn’t fix much though. And you- I think you want things fixed instead. Right?”

there was still so much left unsaid and far too many anecdotes from the slytherin’s past that oliver barely knew what to say. it was a bad idea to let his tongue get carried away, but nothing in his mind stepped forward to stop it. 

where to begin? to begin at all? for now, eunji would be left with a few mere breadcrumbs and a puzzle piece or two. oliver had given her enough of his share already.

his breath caught at the light touch, instinct shouting at him to jerk away from the potential danger. he’d been conditioned into such reactions for years, and habits were hard to break. head snapping towards the girl, his eyes focused on the heavy hand on his shoulder, though it was light in physical weight. 

her words almost baffled him.

She wasn’t suited for this. She’d never been made to comfort, and to even consider doing so was to take a step into a new territory that didn’t seem very comfortable at all - and she thrived on the constancy and predictability of her existence. Change had always been made on her terms. This was change, however, and it was entirely unwelcome, but she was also entirely helpless to stop it.

And she was also helpless to stop listening. If Greece’s night, even in its break from the muggy humidity with a breeze that chilled, had left them with any sense, they would have both walked away from the situation entirely.

Neither had.

His eyes closed, and Eunji’s gaze drifted back to the edge of the cliff in view. Her head tilted back. “They don’t, do they?” Keep talking, she thought, I want to know what makes you tick. I want to fix it. A wave distantly crashed against a shore. Stop talking, she thought, if I get to know you it won’t end well.

one thing, however, that wasn’t like eight year-old oliver-- wasn’t like today’s oliver --was that his slytherin tongue had started to betray him. spilling secrets had never been on the agenda.

leaning forwards to rest his elbow on his knee, head placed in hand, oliver released a quiet sigh. he didn’t know what he was expecting, nor did he know what he was waiting for. strangely enough he didn’t feel tense in eunji’s presence anymore, despite the exposure of his skin and the foreign night sky.

still, his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him.

In some ways it was new - for all that Eunji had ever disliked Oliver, there had never been such a lack of dialogue between them, such terribly still silence. It was hard, she thought, to think about how she should feel about this. A few months back - even a few weeks back - she would’ve been pleased that his words had been curbed. Now she was anything but, and that was the most confusing part of this entire encounter.

The silence broke. Bitter venom coated bitter words, and Eunji would have flinched had she been even a mote more sentimental. It was good, therefore, that she wasn’t - instead, her gaze was steady as it turned back to meet his. If her heart clenched at the look in his eyes, she certainly didn’t mention. Standoffs and baiting and failed charm she could handle, hurt she wasn’t so sure of.

defence mechanisms worked in different ways. oliver’s chose to push people away more often than not and this occasion conformed as usual. his tone reflected how he felt -- how he had felt for years. it hinted at an unhappy childhood. it told a story that no one was supposed to know.  it was probably in his eyes. the sadness and self-pity that he felt in his chest was too hard to conceal under the moon of the night, while the eighteen year old was too hot, too exhausted. while eunji was sitting too close to him.

In this light (at this time of day, in this country, on this bench) Oliver looked- different. Perhaps she’d gotten so used to seeing the edge he carried that to see it absent - to see him quiet and still in the dark of the night - was jarring. More alarming than that was the realisation that for someone so shameless, she’d never quite seen him without a shirt before this trip - and for good reason, it seemed.

Ink traced its path along Oliver’s skin and it was stunning no doubt, but Eunji’s eyes focused on the - it looked purposeful - crosswork of lace-thin marks along the length of his back. Her lips pursed, and a quick glance upwards caught his gaze mid-glance. This desire to reach out, to take a hand and squeeze tight, to comfort - it was all foreign. She wasn’t sure if she liked it, even as her hand remained by her side, palm up and open.

with the silence in between them, tension could only grow further; oliver’s fists clenched as he waited, hopeful that the gryffindor wouldn’t notice. he was stripped of his day-to-day armour. the shadow of night could mask what would be shocking in the light of day. 

he wished it could.

last year’s attempt to partially cover up his imperfections was not always enough, not under close inspection. oliver waited. he waited for a comment, for some kind of remark, for even a mere gasp. he was met with nothing but a silence and the girl withdrawing her gaze. she’d seen too much. now she’d never look at him the same. oliver almost wanted to laugh now that his stomach had dropped. sympathy was the last thing he ever needed.