𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑓 | WTM

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎

Ollie's fear landscape starts in a vast, barren field that stretches endlessly in every direction. The ground beneath her feet is cracked and dry, and an overwhelming silence fills the air, the kind that makes her skin crawl. She feels the oppressive emptiness pressing in on her from all sides. The horizon is an uninterrupted stretch of nothingness, and she can't see any boundaries—no fences, no landmarks, just an infinite stretch of isolation. It's an environment that reflects her deepest terror: the feeling of being alone, lost, and forgotten, as if she's drifting in an empty world with no one to find her.

Ollie's heart pounds in her chest, her breath shallow and erratic. She looks around desperately, but there's nothing. Her mind screams for her to run, to escape, but there's nowhere to go. The silence amplifies her own thoughts, each one a harsh reminder of the loneliness she's felt her entire life. She's been pushed away, forgotten in the shadow of Harry's fame and the expectations of her family. This is her deepest fear — being left behind in a world that keeps moving on without her.

Suddenly, the wind picks up, a harsh, cold gust that sends the barren landscape swirling with dust. In the distance, a figure appears — someone familiar but distant. She recognizes it as her younger self, standing alone at the edge of the field. The version of Ollie she used to be, when she first decided to leave everything behind in search of something more.

The girl turns, looking straight at her, and for the first time, Ollie feels a spark of recognition, something in her that says, This is me. I am still me. I always have been.

Ollie steps forward, but her younger self retreats, a step further back, pulling away from her. The emptiness grows, swallowing the space between them. Panic surges through Ollie, and for a moment, she's consumed by it, feeling as though she might drown in the isolation of it all. But then, something inside her shifts. She remembers the people who have stood by her, the bonds she's made. She remembers her training, her strength. She takes a deep breath, gathering the courage that Dauntless has taught her, and calls out to the version of herself standing at the edge of the field.

"I'm not leaving you behind," Ollie says, her voice steady and firm, even as the wind howls around her.

Her younger self stops retreating and turns to face her. The girl smiles, and as Ollie steps forward, the vast emptiness of the field begins to shrink, the horizon closing in. The ground beneath her feet shifts, becoming solid, and the loneliness that has plagued her for so long begins to fade. The landscape doesn't disappear entirely, but it becomes manageable, no longer suffocating. Ollie stands tall, no longer a victim of her own fear. She has conquered the emptiness, and with it, she has conquered the isolation that has haunted her for so long.

The hall fell silent as Ollie's fear unfolded, the barren field and suffocating loneliness striking a chord even with those who weren't fond of her. Gasps rippled when it became clear — her deepest fear wasn't pain, death, or violence, but being forgotten, abandoned in the shadow of others. Some students shifted uncomfortably, seeing the raw truth of the girl beneath the sass and bravado. Lily and James looked heartbroken at the reminder of how overshadowed she had felt, while Harry sat stiff, guilt heavy in his eyes. But when Ollie stood tall, facing her younger self and declaring she wouldn't be left behind, pride swelled in the room. Four/Ollie shippers practically burst, whispering that he must have helped her find that strength, while others simply admired the quiet power of her victory over her own emptiness.

Ollie stands in the center of a dimly lit room, her heart pounding in her chest as the second fear takes hold. The landscape begins to shift around her, and she finds herself back at the Potter Manor, though everything feels wrong — twisted and distorted. The lavish home, once a symbol of family and belonging, now looms cold and empty, its grand hallways echoing with silence.