Oliver Would

Oliver Would

He stood silently in the shadows, unnoticed by the large group of people milling about before him. Dark naked trees obscured him from view, hiding him from view, but allowing him to view the extensive family. Patiently he waited for the rest of the people to move on, allowing him some time to himself for personal reflection. Scanning the faces once more he noticed one missing, but dismissed the disappearance as the start of the natural breaking up of the gathering. Sure enough the group of people soon began to move away. The weather was not exactly conducive for lingering out of doors, clouds mostly obscured the sun, casting a gloomy pall on the already somber landscape. Jealously he watched parents and grandparents scoop children up and away, little bursts of laughter could be heard relieving the serious silence. He started slightly as he realized just how jealous he really was of these people. Compared to them, he had everything, and yet he somehow had nothing. Quietly he reflected on this point, while waiting for the rest of the people to disappear from sight.

When he was certain that everyone had left, he slowly made his way out of the shadows of the trees and to the area in which the group of people had once been standing. The freshly turned earth flattened easily under his feet, as he carefully placed a beater’s bat on the ground amidst the flowers and trinkets placed there before him.

"Well Weasley, you’ve had a good run. Things will never be the same without you around to make them interesting." He sighed, "although, then again . . . They never were the same after your brother died . . ." he glanced at the fairly new stone next to the one he was contemplating, where another weather worn beater’s bat had also been placed. "That’s the trouble with twins as close as you two, one never outlives the other by very much." He looked up and scanned the sky, "Now that you’re all reunited, I’m sure you and your wives are having a great time somewhere up there."

He sighed again as he straightened up and absently patted the stone in front of him. Realization slowly and painfully dawned on him, it was something he had always known, but had only just been able to actually admit to himself. The owner of the stone in front of him, though not nearly as wealthy as he was, had everything all the same. Everything he would have liked to have had for himself, sure he had plenty of material wealth, his parents had seen to that, but what he didn’t have was what money couldn’t buy. Family. Being an only child, the product of two only children, with no extended family left him alone after both of his parents had died.

Marriage had never occurred to him, nor had he ever really been in a long term relationship. It wasn’t that he was disinterested in women, he just had more important things to be doing. He’d simply never taken the time. Later, he had kept telling himself, he’d have time for women and a family later. Well now it was later, much later, his expiration date was long past due, and he was still on the shelf. Just about all of his friends had long since settled down with their families, and now it was more than likely that he would be sitting there alone on that shelf until the day he died.

Sadly he realized how willingly he had just let his life pass him by, and he had little to show for it other than material wealth. He had outlived what little family he had, and most of his friends. What few friends he had among the living were all quite involved with their families, and he felt like an outsider intruding on their lives whenever he paid them a visit.

If he were the bitter type he could have blamed his parents for endlessly pushing him to achieve more and more and to become better and better at Quidditch, good enough to play in the big leagues. Or he could have blamed society, for encouraging him to become the perfect athlete, to spend all his time obsessing over being better than everyone else at a game that won him the adoration of the wizarding world. He could have blamed lots of other people, for driving him to achieve and focus so narrowly on becoming the world’s best keeper, that he missed out on living his own life. Fortunately he was not the bitter type, he knew whom he could blame for this, it was all his own fault. He had loved his parents dearly, and was genuinely grief stricken when they had each passed, even though they had not given him the proper childhood he had deserved.

While all the other children had been out playing together he had been sequestered to his back yard. Being pushed to achieve more and more, to play harder, and win. Winning had been everything to his father, and how he had craved his father’s approval. How those last few years at Hogwarts had rankled him! Victory had been so close, and yet so very far! And when they had finally won, he was so proud when he wrote home about the match. His father had been so proud of him! Even more proud than the day he had first shown the potential talent as a Quidditch player. He could curse that day he had picked up his father’s broomstick and pretended to be a keeper, just like his daddy had been for his house team. But he didn’t, he didn’t blame anyone for his mistakes. They belonged to only one person, himself, and he accepted this.

"Oliver Wood," he muttered sourly to himself, "Oliver Would is more like it . . . Yes I now see the dark humor in that particular version of my nomenclature. I now know why Anne found that so bitterly funny." Anne had been a long time female friend, who had taken care of Oliver’s domestic needs while he played Quidditch. He had found out too late, the day of her wedding, that she had been in love with him. That day she had exploded at him and let loose what she had thought of as hurtful remarks, calculated to open his eyes and shock him out of his little Quidditch centered world. Oliver true to form, too centered on Quidditch, didn’t even notice, and lost her forever. Bitterly he had realized that after the fact and now he understood what she had been saying about him. "One day Oliver would make a great boyfriend, Oliver would be a wonderful husband, Oliver would make an excellent father. Oliver would do great things. Now it was, Oliver could have done great things . . . Had he not focused on one thing that is . . . Quidditch," he spat the word, even though it was the source of his fame and wealth, it was also the source of his unhappiness. "When did the thing I loved so much become the thing I now loathe? When did the would, turn into could, and when did that could turn into would have been? Why didn’t someone tell me that success is no good unless you have someone to share it with?"

Oliver stood there for quite some time, contemplating his long and lonely life. Quietly he cursed himself for allowing his life to pass him by, leaving him stranded all alone in his old age. It was now far too late for him to start living, it was too late for anything but regrets. He heaved a great sigh, ready to move on, the light that had been dwindling was now gone and an evening chill had settled over the wizarding cemetery.

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. Oliver turned to see a faded, but familiar face, looking kindly at him.

"I’m so sorry Perce . . . I . . . " He started, he hadn’t seen Percy in years. He had been avoiding the Weasley family, always feeling like an intruder at their family functions. But of all the people he had known during his life, Oliver knew that Percy would be the one to best understand. Percy had also never married, focusing, as had Oliver, on his career. Percy had risen in the Ministry like a rocket, and spent years at the top as Minister. But what separated the two wizards was the small fact that Percy had the safety of a large family to keep him company during his success and subsequent retirement.

He smiled at the dejected ex-keeper, "C’mon Oliver, lets get you home. The rest of the family is waiting." Percy knew the pains of realizing that life has passed you by, too late to do anything about it, and had been waiting for Oliver to realize it too. In fact the whole Weasley family had been waiting, ready to welcome Oliver into their number.