He's a Keeper

He's a Keeper// Chapter 4

         "Oh yeah? Make me." Oliver's fists were clenched tight, turning red. His eyes showed anger. He was ready to boil. He grabbed Stephen and shoved him to the ground. "Violet, run!" Oliver shouted. I didn't think twice and ran as fast as I could go. "Stupefy!" The next thing I knew, I was blasted to the ground. I was in pain, my body couldn't handle spells very well, I was sensitive. Stephen blasted Oliver off of him and made his way over to me. "I told you not to run away!" he said sternly, holding me by my collar. I couldn't get the words out. He then dropped me on the cold, concrete floor, a bit of pain shocking my body. Oliver came over and knocked him out with a punch. "Violet, are you okay?" I couldn't respond, so I jumped into his arms, hugging him as hard as my frail body could. He started stroking my head, trying to calm me down. He stood up and offered a hand. I accepted it, but couldn't get up. He helped me up, putting his arm under mine. "I've got ya."

  I was laying in the common room, resting after today's events. Oliver came and sat next to me. He placed his hand over mine, which gave me instant butterflies. "Are you sure you're alright?" "Yeah, I'm fine." He sent me that signature smile. He got up slowly, so I grabbed his hand. "Oliver, could you, um, stay, please?" He smiled and lowered back down, next to me. I made room for him on the small couch. I nuzzled into him. "Good night m'lady."  I was so happy that he was my best friend.

  I woke up in Oliver's arms, his chest rising and falling, his faint snoring filled my ears. I shuffled in my spot a bit, awakening Oliver. "Good morning m'lady." My cheeks heated up, I loved when he called me that. We got up and went down to the Great Hall. I saw Stephen at the table, talking to his friends. I sat as far away as I possibly could. Stephen looked at me, hatred in his eyes. I went back to eating my food. "Hey, just ignore him. If he comes near you, I'll give him a piece of my mind." I chuckled at his comment. We went on with our day, me ignoring Stephen as much as possible. As I was walking to Transfiguration, I heard what I never wanted to hear. "Ahh!" a voice cried. I turned around to see Stephen, casting a bunch of spells on someone, the spells that could leave a mark. That voice in pain was one I didn't want to hear, a thick Scottish accent.