A Life Worth Living

Mask of Normalcy

Oliver rushed down the street towards the flat, knowing he was running late. It had another busy day at the Quidditch League's offices and the last meeting of the day had run over. The sports minister was keen on getting the League up and running as quickly as possible, declaring that the wizarding world needed a morale booster.

And, according to him, there was no better morale booster than Quidditch.

As one of three players returning to Puddlemere United, the new coach had tapped Oliver to help rebuild the team. They had spent nearly all day going through possible recruits before the head of the League had called everyone in for a League-wide meeting.

As tedious as his day had been, Oliver was happy for the distraction. Time spent focusing on Quidditch was less time dwelling on the past year and all the grief it had brought.

It was also less time spent with Iris and her soul-piercing eyes that begged him to open up. Though he couldn't read her mind, he knew that she was hurting. That she was worried. He didn't fault her and Oliver wasn't helping by refusing to even address anything remotely related to their year apart or the war.

Oliver couldn't bring himself to discuss it, the guilt and pain too much. It was easier to push it aside. Pretend it wasn't there. Which wouldn't be so hard if it weren't for the damn nightmares he still got on a nearly nightly basis. Oliver knew he woke Iris up with his thrashing and shouts – and she did her best to calm him down.

She never complained, which only made Oliver feel even guiltier.

Merlin, he wished he could turn back time. While he sometimes wished he could go back and not walk into the trap that had landed Iris in a coma, he wasn't much sure he wanted her to live through the hell that had been the war after that point either.

At the very least, he wished they could have stayed in Scotland. At least there, he could pretend that nothing had happened. That he was a normal man introducing the love of his life to his family.

But they couldn't stay forever. They had to come back. Help fix up Hogwarts. Try to return to life - or at least forge a new life. And once again, he was faced with the constant reminders of those he had failed to protect.

And the fact that he had survived while they did not.

Oliver clenched his jaw as thoughts of Lupin, Tonks, and Fred shoved their way to the forefront of his mind. All the faces of the lost, really. He had carried Colin Creevy into the Great Hall. Found Katie Bell half-buried under some rubble. Saw the faces of others who had either taught him or attended school with him laid out in the Great Hall.

He went to every single memorial service, hating that he hadn't done a single, damn thing to save any of them. If only he had been quicker. Or been there sooner. Or that he had been stronger. Smarter.

That he hadn't gone to meet Brom that night. Walked into a trap that resulted in Iris falling into a coma for over a year.

It only made it worse that she didn't seem to blame him for any of it. She would have never been in that position - pushed herself too far too soon - if it weren't for him. She told him it was in the past and they could now move forward together. That they had a future together.

Did they?

Oliver certainly hoped they did, but part of him couldn't help but think now that she was free to go out into the world as Iris Evans – that she no longer needed to hide who she was or what she could do – that she would choose to have a life of her own.

One that didn't include a broken man of a Quidditch player who failed to help his closest friends during the war.

Even if Oliver couldn't imagine the idea of a life without Iris. He clung to her just as much as he pushed her away.