Catch Me, I'm Falling | Fred Weasley

Chapter 6

Olivia was a mess. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. She'd failed at practically every subject. The entire staff gave her sad, pitiful looks every time she passed them in the hallways. She had no doubt she was the talk of the staff room. The idea sickened her more than she would admit. On top of her fantastic failure in academics, she'd tripped no less than twenty times. The moving stairs did not help. Madam Pomfrey had been right. She needed to build her strength back up.

Worst of all, however, was the way Olivia felt. She was empty. A shell of a person. It was as if she was hollow. The overall idea was there, but there was no substance. She supposed that would happen if a person lost all their memories. But it still haunted her.

Over the next few weeks, Olivia poured herself into her studies. Nearly all her classes had been taken off her schedule in favor of private sessions and student tutors. She pushed away everyone who wanted to be friendly, which included her dormmates, with the feeble excuse of needing to study. It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the reason she pushed people away. The truth was that Olivia was scared. She'd lost everything once. What if it happened again? She didn't want anyone getting attached.

Instead, Olivia focused on the study of magic to fill the hole inside of her. Whether or not it worked, she didn't know. But either way, it filled her time.

On one particular Friday, Olivia was walking down the corridor towards the Ravenclaw dormitories. She'd finished her lesson with Flitwick for the day and had finally mastered the basic charms, much to the joy of her professor.

He'd even told her, "At this pace, you'll be in class with the fifth-years in no time." She'd smiled and nodded, though she couldn't help but doubt the truth of his words. After all, how could she face so many people without making a huge mess?

Despite her doubts, Olivia was still proud of herself. She even let herself smile a little as she walked, hugging her books to her chest.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from the other end of the hallway. Olivia looked up and met endless brown. Her smile slipped away. It was the ginger she'd bumped into on her first day. Fred. Just as the first time, a feeling of grief tugged at her. She had no idea why. Considering their first meeting, she certainly didn't want him near her. Olivia turned on her heel and ran in the other direction.

"Wait!" he yelled after her. She heard footsteps behind her and sped up. Turning a corner, Olivia desperately looked around for a place to hide. With her weak body, she wouldn't be able to outrun him. At the last moment. She tucked herself into a broom closet, held her breath as the footsteps slowed outside.

"Dammit," he said. There was a moment of silence, then Fred walked off. Olivia let out the breath she'd been holding, leaned her head against the door, and slid down into a sitting position. It was only when she tasted salt that she realized she was crying. Letting out a half chuckle, half sob, Olivia wiped away her tears.

She'd been experiencing visions more and more. At some point, Olivia realized that they weren't memories at all. They were visions of the future. She'd tried visiting Trelawney, the divination professor, but had ultimately decided against asking the woman for advice. To be fair, Olivia had caught her in a bad moment. The poor woman'd just discovered that someone had planted dung bombs in her classroom. The poor thing had been a mess.

So, Olivia had done her research in the library. She'd poured over books for days, searching desperately for a diagnosis. Her visions didn't really match any of the descriptions. For one, her visions seemed connected to places, people, and even smells. It felt like it unlocked a memory in her head, like a reminder of something forgotten. For another thing, she was never a part of her visions. It was as if they played out in a universe in which she didn't exist. Instead, they all centered around Harry Potter, as if he was the main character. With the way people treated him, Olivia supposed he was.

The issue was that her visions didn't change. They weren't visions of the future, but rather of a future. A possibility. After connecting this with her strange interaction with Hermione on the train (which Olivia was still wrapping her mind around), she realized that she was the variable. Her new theory was that if she did anything significant to prevent the future from happening, it would change the action. So, for now, Olivia made sure that she didn't interfere. Yet another reason to stay away from a particular Weasley.

With Fred, things were different. She felt grief when she saw him. Olivia had nearly had a panic attack when she'd seen a flash of ginger hair. Luckily, there was a whole clan of red-haired students, most of which she assumed were Weasleys. She'd likely seen someone else. Still, Olivia avoided the dining hall, instead opting to sneak to the kitchens for meals. The house-elves seemed to take a particular liking to her.

Olivia would be lying if she said she hadn't had any visions of Fred. But for now, she was ignoring them, willing them not to exist. Maybe it was self-preservation... or stupidity. She didn't care. It hurt less when she didn't think about it. But she couldn't be a coward forever. She'd have to face her feelings eventually. Why not now, sitting in a broom closet, crying for a stranger.

Olivia closed her eyes and let the vision that had been piercing her heart invade her mind. Darkness. War. A flash of green. And there he was, lying on the stone floor. Dead. Surrounded by family. But still dead. So, so... Olivia let herself cry. She didn't know why, but she cared. As if he was an old friend. She let herself hurt as her body shook with sobs.

She had no idea how long she'd been there, hugging her knees, chest racking with sobs, when an insistent knock sounded. She startled a bit and stood. The door opened to reveal a blonde boy in Slytherin robes. Malfoy. She'd heard of him. Had visions, too. The broken boy. He spied the tear streaks on her cheeks and frowned.

"You okay?" he ran a hand through his hair. "Did anyone hurt you?"

Olivia shook her head, "No. I'm alright,"

Draco raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. "You don't look it. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Jas told us all to keep an eye on you. You sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine."

Draco handed her a tissue. "Here."

"Thanks," Olivia wiped her nose. "You're not as mean as everyone says, you know."

Draco let out a halfhearted laugh and leaned against the doorway. "I know. It's... just for show. Really. I wouldn't hurt anyone, not if I had the choice."

"But you don't... have a choice?"

His mouth tightened. "No, I don't,"