The Dark Mark (The Girl Who Lived part II)

Oliver's Ending: The Girl Who Waited

I woke in the morning to find myself alone in the bed that I shared with Oliver. There was no sign of him. Nothing but a slight indention of where he had laid and a pile of sheets. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. This had become our "normal". He'd return from something Quidditch related late in the evening. Tired and worn. I'd wash his laundry and then neatly pack it back into his bag. Who knew when he'd be called out again. Who knew when he would return. Then, I settled down into bed with him. He'd tell me of everything that had occurred in between the gap of time I hadn't heard anything from him. I'd sleep in until the chirp of the birds and the warmth of the sun woke me. But seldom was he there when I woke.

His suitcase was gone, and everything in the apartment seemed as though he hadn't been there at all. Not a single sign. Not a trace. I loved that he loved what he was doing, but it wasn't necessarily working for me. I loved him more than everything in the world. As if he were the sun and I were a plant. He brought that type of sunshine to my life. The way I saw him walk through the door, made my heart beat fast as if it were running a race. It was a new feeling every time. A rush of joy. But like most magic in all forms, it eventually wore off. Much faster than I would have had liked it to. Every night when I fixed myself a dinner for two, I expected him to walk right through that door and we would eat together. But he almost never did. I would simply pack the extra meal I had set out and give it to Ron the next day. He didn't quite fancy Hermoine's cooking. He told me that he couldn't stomach it.

I swept the apartment as usual. Occasionally glancing over at the pile of letters he had sent to me over the years. And there on the desk, lay a blank sheet of paper and a quill. I hadn't responded to his most recent letter. It's not that I didn't want to. Believe me, I did. It's just that I had nothing to say. While his life seemed to be filled with wonder, mine seemed as if it were playing on repeat, like a broken record.

I later reported to Weasley's Wizardly Wheezes. "Scarlet, would you mind stocking the shelves with the contents of that box?" George had asked me. He had already ordered Ron to do a lengthy task, so I had to do it. "Sure". I opened the box only to have blue powder explode into my face. "George!" I screamed. This was the straw that broke the camels back. I chased him around the shop. I grabbed the back of his hair. He was wearing it long these days, so it was something to grab on to. I yanked it back. I dragged him over to the box of blue powder. "Clean this up. Now!" I watched as George cleaned up the mess of blue. When the work was done, I headed over to Harry's house for a gathering that we had weekly. I was surrounded by couples. Harry and Ginny. After the war, we had realized that we weren't meant to be, and mutually separated. He'd had some lingering feelings for Ginny, and I'd had some for Oliver. Hermoine and Ron were married, but they fought like the dickens. There wasn't a moment when they weren't fighting. I was often the facilitator for their fights. Neville and Luna, an unlikely couple, attended the gathering as well. I sat at one of the ends of the table. Alone.

All was going well until Harry's youngest child, who couldn't be more than five, tugged on my shirt. "Why are you alone?" She asked me. I stumbled on my words. I did not have an answer. "Lily. Why don't you go on and play?" Ginny shooed her away.

seeing my discomfort. "How is that Oliver, anyway? Have you broken up yet? I'd say that it's about time. I never liked the bloke anywa-" Hermoine quickly shoved a Ron mouthful of potatoes into Ron's mouth before he could say anything more. Ron continued talking, knowing that all of us could translate what he mumbled with a mouthful of potatoes. I chose not to listen. "No, it's okay. Oliver hasn't been around very often. I never see him anymore. I do love him, and I want to support him to the best of my ability, but it doesn't seem to be working for me". Ron continued to speak. Hermoine yanked him by the ear, pulling him into the kitchen. Luna followed close behind, possibly to distract him. Neville gently rubbed my back. "Tell him how you feel. He'll understand". He said. "But that's not what I want. For him to understand. If I tell him, then he's going to quit his dream for me. I don't want that. I'd much rather him hate me for a time period than have him resent me in the future".

"If you love each other, then you'll find a way". Ginny said, wrapping her fingers around Harry's. We continued talking until dawn. They made me feel reassured. When I returned home, I sat down at my desk. As heavy as my eyelids felt, I did not sleep. I stretched my back, and began to write on that blank sheet of paper. "Dear Oliver, I hope this letter finds you well. I'm sorry that I haven't written to you lately. Hearing of your adventures, I feel as though my life is rather repetitive. As usual, things aren't the same without you. I miss the days that you're here with me. But I know that this is your dream, and I don't want to be the thing that holds you back. The thing that you'll grow to resent later on down the road. And as much as I miss you, I know that it's nothing but selfish to wish that you were here with me right now. So I urge you not to give up. And when you're tired, to return home. Because, I love you Oliver Wood. And forever, I will wait for you".