servant and master shall be reunited once more.
father and son shall meet again.
elio black just has to survive the year first.
oliver wood / male oc
started 2020 | ongoing
prisoner of azkaban
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11. Deck the Halls
WARNING: lil bit of blood and vomit. It's only brief, but still there. Elio gives verbal warning when he's going to be sick so just skip the following paragraph and you'll be alright
THE portkey drops Oliver onto slippery, wet grass with little warning. His shoes struggle to find purchase, almost toppling from underneath him. He barely remembers to drop the little coin before it returns to its home. As all hands release the small coin, it drops to the ground where it trembles and then vanishes. The only sign that it was ever even there is the slight rustle of disturbed grass.
Oliver stands in a wide, empty field on the edge of a cliff. A thick expanse of trees circles the clearing, a silhouette against the darkening sky. Drifting lazily in the air, white specks of snow disappear before they can hit the ground. The snow is thick enough that it should really be coating the ground. Some enchantment must be stopping it. One small protection against the winter weather. It's still cold, though. Every breath comes out white cold. The grass is wet and muddy. Oliver doesn't know how Elio is wearing sandals.
A large bonfire burns in the centre of the field. The small gathering flocks to it like moths to a light. Everyone is dressed up, disguised in some manner. Their costumes create inhuman shapes, with feathers sprouting from heads and shoulders, fur replacing skin as if they were beasts. It's like Oliver has walked into a trap. Dread settles heavily in his stomach like some unfounded premonition of doom. And yet, at the same time, he's enchanted. His feet move unbiddenly toward the group and he's no longer sure if he's following Elio's lead or simply the allurement of the crowd.
As they approach, the fire's heat melts away the cold that had seeped into Oliver's bones. It burns against his cheeks, no doubt turning them red. The indiscernible murmur of the crowd's chatter floats peacefully over the quiet of the night. Somewhere nearby, waves crash against rock.
A loud crack from wood splitting in the bonfire breaks the spell. Oliver blinks. Both Elio and Remus have disappeared.
"I don't know. I blinked and they were gone." Percy answers the question that rests on Oliver's lips. He scans the crowd. There can't be that many places the pair have disappeared to. They seem to have arrived early, as the crowd gathered is only small. Most of the clearing is void of any adornments, save the bonfire, an empty stage, and a series of tables containing a sparse assortment of food.
It's by the food where a certain statuesque boy stands. By the time Oliver spots him, Elio is already heading back to them. His arms are full of goblets, precariously sloshing around with every step. One is passed to Oliver. Percy declines his as it's offered.
"I would rather keep a clear head." He says as he pushes the goblet away.
"Boo, you're no fun." Elio frowns, scrunching up his nose. Percy is a stronger man than Oliver. The disappointed expression alone would have had Oliver accepting.
