Catch Me, I'm Falling | Fred Weasley

Chapter 8

Olivia was stunned. Jasper always seemed so... irritating. He'd given no hints at what their relationship used to be. Her parents had at least been transparent with her. But Jasper? He'd been anything but.

Throughout the entire Summer before school, Jasper had taunted her, teased her, and annoyed her to no end. Olivia had thought he was just an idiot, but... Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe Jasper put on a mask. Maybe he wasn't an absolute arsehole. Maybe he cared.

Still, it didn't excuse his actions. Olivia would have to find a way to get him off her back. She didn't want those snakes following her around. Jasper was mad if he thought he could do that to her. There was no good reason for it, anyway. She spent the vast majority of her time in the library. What could be dangerous about that?

The thing that angered her most, however, was how it took away her anonymity. No one knew who Olivia Sparks was. She didn't have any classes with others and her dormmates had all but given up on her. For all intents and purposes, Olivia Sparks didn't exist.

It made it easier, it did. Not to involve herself in the lives of others. This way, she wouldn't interfere with the timeline. Voldemort would die and all would be well. At least, that's what Olivia told herself.

Some small, insistent part of her fought against this idea. She still longed for comfort, love, friendship. She wanted to be seen, to be the hero of her own story. But that wasn't possible, because the hero of this story was Harry, not Olivia.

Jasper's stupid move had put her plans in jeopardy. He'd put her directly into the line of fire. Draco Malfoy now knew her name, which was dangerous, considering he was one of the key players. She'd have to steer clear of him.

Olivia sighed, mentally cleaning her slate. If she dwelled on this for too long, she'd drive herself mad. She supposed she'd have to drop by the kitchens for breakfast. There was no way she was going back into the great hall. In all her anger at Jasper, she'd done a bit of damage herself. Jasper was... well... popular. People liked him. Especially the Slytherins. So, when a girl came stomping up to him and dragged him across the room, it didn't go unnoticed. Olivia could only hope that few had noticed. And hopefully, those who had would soon forget.

She ran a hand through her messy curls in exasperation. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Merlin's beard, she was an idiot. She needed to get away. Exasperated, Olivia made her way to the kitchens. The house-elves didn't bat an eye, used to seeing her there. At first, they'd protested, saying that no students were allowed in the kitchens. But eventually, they'd caved, sympathizing with her.

She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter, then made her way to the fridge. Humming to herself, she surveyed her options. Ahh, there it was. Treacle tart, leftover from dinner the day before, no doubt. Olivia swiftly grabbed the plate and made her way to a stool in the corner, perching on it as she dug into her feast.

As she ate, Olivia watched the house-elves work. They were all so kind, skilled too. It made her sad to think about the way they were treated in the wizarding world. They deserved so much better. At least the ones at Hogwarts were treated with decency. Although, decency could never truly amount to freedom.

When her breakfast was done, Olivia returned to her dorm to get some work done. Snape had assigned her another Potions essay, much to her dismay. Most of the work he gave her was paperwork. He wouldn't let her touch any actual potion ingredients after the disaster at the beginning of the school year. Unlike Flitwick, he didn't give her actual lessons. Instead, he just assigned mountains of work.

When she'd mentioned it to Phebe, she'd been appalled.

"You should speak to Madam Pomfrey. She's very skilled at potions. I'm sure she'd be willing to actually teach you."

"Are you sure? She always seems so busy. I just-"

"Positive. She may be intimidating, but trust me, she's the greatest asset Hogwarts has got."

"You think so?"

"Mmm. She brews a healing potion like it's the easiest thing in the world. Besides, she's truly sweet if you get to know her."

"I'm not sure. I don't want to bother her."

"Nonsense. She'd be glad to help. You might have to help her out in return, but what's the harm in that?"

"I suppose I'll pay her a visit, then."

"Good. You know, every year someone breaks an arm. The amount of students I've had to bring to the hospital wing is astonishing. I mean, can you believe..." Phebe had gone on and on, retelling stories of her adventures.

She had been right. So, Olivia made her way to the hospital wing. It wasn't busy, exactly. But since there were no nurses to assist Madam Pomfrey, there was still a fair bit of work for the matron.

Olivia stood there, unsure of what to do. Pomfrey looked up.

"You alright, dear?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well then, what are you doing just standing there? You might as well help." The woman motioned her to where a little boy was sitting, knees scraped. Madam Pomfrey handed Olivia a washcloth.

"Clean the wound, then disinfect it with that," she pointed to a clear bottle on the side table. "When that's done, seal it with some healing balm," she directed, handing Olivia a jar.

Olivia got to work. She cleaned up the scrapes, all the while chatting with the boy. He'd fallen down the stairs. Olivia assured him that the same had happened to her many times and that it was nothing to worry about. That seemed to reassure him. When she applied the balm, Olivia watched in awe as the skin magically knit together.

"There you are, all done." The boy smiled up at her words, then scampered off.

She assisted Madam Pomfrey for the rest of the day, diligently following orders. The woman was firm but kind and Olivia liked having something to do. A purpose.

"Have you been exercising?" the woman asked midday.

"I-um. No. I haven't gotten to it yet," Olivia admitted, embarrassed.

"You should, lest you end up falling down the stairs like that poor boy. Your body needs to be strengthened."

"I know. I will, I promise."

"Good." the matron said, cleaning up the space as Olivia hovered behind her.

"Um, Madam Pomfrey. I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could teach me potions. I haven't been able to get much practice done and I heard you're the one to see."

Madam Pomfrey was silent for a moment. "I would be happy to... under one condition: come help every week or so. I've been quite busy and could use the help."

Olivia nodded. "I'd love that."

"Good. I'll send for you when I need your help and we can practice when the hospital wing is empty."

Visiting Madam Pomfrey became a part of Olivia's routine. She would clean the hospital wing, occasionally helping out with patients. In return, Madam Pomfrey helped her practice potions. The woman truly was a wonder at the subject and Olivia's skills improved immensely.

One day, Olivia was sweeping when a familiar voice echoed down the hall. She put the broom down, gave the matron a little wave, and skittered away as quickly as she could. She passed a group of Gryffindors heading towards the hospital wing. Her eyes met endless brown for a second, but she hurried past.

Olivia could have sworn that she felt Fred's eyes on her. She didn't care. She just had to... get away. Her distraction, however, did her no good. One wrong step and she was tumbling down the stairs.

Bloody Hell.