Nothing to Lose: Oliver's Story

Nothing to Lose: Oliver's Story

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Company

Moments after Madam Pomfrey delivered those totally despairing news, there was a knock on the door.

"Here, for Wood?" Madam P said.

Company? For me? They couldn't be much more welcome. I was bored outta my mind. Not to mention miserable and in pain!

I wondered who it could possibly be and expected to see one of my teammates--but Hermione Granger stepped through the doorway.

"Hi..." she said softly, taking a seat next to my bed.

"Hey," I said weakly.

"Just wanted to--to thank you. For yesterday, I mean," Hermione said quietly, not looking at me. When she finally did, she said, "And I figured you needed some sort of company here."

"How'd you know I was in here?" I asked.

"Certainly not from Harry or Ron. Word gets around here at Hogwarts, remember?"

"So, the two are still pretty steamed?"

"That just may be the understatement of the century."

She seemed to not have gotten any more cheerful than she was yesterday.

"They'll bounce back, Hermione. They always do. Potter and Weasley are your friends. Best friends, for that matter," I replied.

She didn't answer for a while. And when she did, tears were welling up in her honey eyes again. "But I feel--so alone!" she blurted out.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry. If anyone is to cry, that person should be me," I whispered soothingly to her, moving my left arm the slightest inch and showing her the many bandages that were wrapped around my torso.

Her tear-stained face broke into a small smile. "Here I am, visiting you to keep you company and here I am, bawling like... like a little girl."

"It's no big deal. In a way, we're keeping each other company. Just--don't cry." I reached for her hand and squeezed it with my right.

Hermione nodded and wiped her tears with the back of her sleeves.

"So, how bad is it?" she asked me after some time.

"Bad. I blacked out three times."

"Wow... And I heard you scream too," Hermione told me, a grin on her face.

"So you did hear me?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. Can't say I'm surprised. "You and a thousand others."

"That's how I knew you were in the Hospital Wing," she teased, laughter in her eyes. "Though my suspicions weren't confirmed until Fred and George said loudly, 'that must be good ol' Captain Wood!'"

I laughed a little bit then forced myself to stop as an explosion of pain surged through my body again.

Hermione seemed to have noticed since she reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out what appeared to be a small potion bottle.

"It's a sort of Muggle medicine to help chest pain and soreness," she told me, uncapping it. Even from where she was I caught a whiff of something that was supposed to be cherry flavored, but really wasn't. Don't ask me how I knew.

"Wanna give it a try?" she asked me, grabbing a glass from a cabinet behind her.

Oh, what the heck, it wouldn't hurt to try... Would it?

I merely nodded.

I watched with bated breath, anticipation flooding me, as she poured the nasty smelling stuff into the cup so only one-fourth of it was filled. She handed the cup to me and I peered in at its contents skeptically. If it tasted as bad as it smelt, did it really have a chance in easing the pain?

"Bottoms up," Hermione said, egging me on to drink the medicine.

"Here goes nothing; and cheers," I said, toasting to her and draining the cup.

It tasted... hot, but not as hot as the Pepper-Up potion. It burned my throat just the same and I coughed and sputtered.

"Oh come one, it's not that bad!" she said, taking the glass from me and pouring more into it.

What was she doing?

"Going to try some yourself?" I asked her, though knowing and dreading the real answer.

"No, silly, it's for you," Hermione laughed, handing me the cup again.

"Ugh, please no," I moaned, pushing the cup away.

"It'll help!" she said earnestly.

"No."

"Take it."

"No."

"Take it."

"No.

"Take it!"

"No!"

"Take it," she said forcefully.

"Noooo," I said. If I were able to, I would've folded my arms stubbornly.

"Stop being such a baby Ollie and drink it!" Hermione retorted, bopping me on my left arm--hard.

"OOOOWWWW!!" I howled, but she silenced me by placing a hand over my mouth.

"Shhhh!" she hissed, her hand still on my mouth. "Sorry! I didn't know it'd hurt that bad!"

"Gimme that bloody cup," I said through clenched teeth. The pain was like torture.

I drank it and passed the cup back to her. The medicine tasted just as bad as before, but I could care less. If it was going to help the pain, so be it.

To my surprise, she capped the uncapped bottle and tucked it away.

"That's all I have to take? And it'll get better?" I asked. I had to admit that I was pretty doubtful.

"Yes. But it'll take a while for it to get into effect."

Then something she had said earlier made me ask her a question.

"Baby Ollie?" I said, and then burst out laughing.

"Did I say that?" she said, blushing a bit.

Oh wait; I'm a guy, so I'm not supposed to notice things like that.

"Yes. And it's weird because--because that's what me mum called me."

Entirely truthful. That was no lie.

When I was little, oh say, about two, my mum would call me Baby Ollie whenever I did something cute or when I was upset. She'd say to her friends, "Oh! Look at Baby Ollie! He's chewing on his plastic keys!" or "Hush, now, Baby Ollie, it's not so bad! It's just a shot. Now hold Mummy's hand and let the doctor give it to you."

I noticed Hermione's eyes grow wide. Betcha she didn't see that coming.

"Really?" she asked me.

I nodded and was about to tell her what I just told you when Madam Pomfrey burst in.

"What is it? I heard screams!" she said worriedly.

"Ohh--nothing," I said quickly.

Madam P stared at me in disbelief, but said, "Well, Miss Granger, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave as Mr. Wood needs bed rest!"

I watched sadly as Hermione was steered out of the room and before the door was shut in her face, she looked meaningfully at me, pointed to the glass I had drunk out of, and then grinned at the nurse.

Of course, I didn't catch on but sure enough, when I looked at my glass, there was a folded piece of parchment beneath it.

Seeing that Mad Pom (I call her that sometimes) still had her back turned to me, I pulled it out with my right hand and shoved it into the pocket of my Quidditch robes--I still had them on for some reason.

The nurse bustled back to her office after she had checked to see if I was okay and it was only then that I brought out the note and unfolded it. It read:

Hello, Oliver.

I know this it totally out of the blue, but, do you think you could teach me how

to fly? It's just, I've wanted to lately, but by the looks of it, Harry's not going to

be very eager in teaching me how. Do you think you could find time to? I'd

understand if you can't; you guys have been busy with practices and all!

Hermione

I smiled. It was almost involuntary. How could I not teach her? After all, flying was something I loved to do, and I wouldn't mind sharing something I'm passionate about. Of course I'll teach her! If she wants to fly, why not give her the wings?

Aye, and if you haven't guessed it yet, Hermione Granger is that girl I was referring to earlier. But, I s'pose you knew from the start, eh?

Now with Quidditch practice and flying lessons to look forward to, I was just about ready to take as much of that red liquid medicine if it would give me a speedy recovery!