Narrative

[bright_lisa]

Who: Oliver, Lisa and an unexpected guest
When: Feb. 3
Where: Abingdon, Oxfordshire Co.
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A better forgotten part of Lisa's past comes back to haunt her

Seven years had gone by since he last had seen Lisa, and thirteen since he first laid eyes on her. She had always been beautiful, even in her school robes. Her

Comments

[woodatdawn]

"Deoghail am fallus bhàrr duine mharbh siadha tiadhan," Oliver growled, but Vladimir wouldnt have been able to hear the end of the sentence, even if he'd been able to understand the Gaelic for Suck the sweat off of a dead man's balls. It was the worst he could think of in his state. Oliver was shaking with rage and adrenaline - he had just punched Vladimir solidly, in the square of his face, breaking his nose with ease. A quick body bind and Vladimir Berbatov was unconscious, bound and bleeding on his carpet. He wanted to give Vladimir the chance to leave, too scared of his own urge to hex the man. He didn't want to get the authorities involved, but now it seemed like he had little choice. He wanted this documented, properly, with no chance of Vladimir twisting it to suit his own needs. Oliver wanted to make sure, very sure, that Berbatov was out of Lisa's life for good.

"I thin' ye should floo for some Aurors, Lisa," Oliver said shakily, his wand quivering to match his voice. He wanted to rush over to her and put her to bed, like a child who'd just had a nightmare, and curl around her and hold her and reassure her that it was over, but he could only imagine what she must be feeling. Whatever it was, he was sure it didn't involve his glomping on her and kissing her senseless. He could imagine she probably didn't want to be touched, after being groped by that slime Berbatov. Besides, Oliver wanted to make sure the 'situation' was entirely over before comforting her. He didn't think he was capable of providing much comfort while he still felt so uneasy. Best to get the Bulgarian out of the house first. They'd both feel better then. Still, Oliver stepped close to her, but didn't touch her. He tried to give her his most reassuring gaze.

"Let's get him gone, yeah?"

[bright_lisa]

Lisa had backed herself against the wall and was just staring, glaring, watching Vladimir's body as if he might jump up and come after the two of them. She finally looked up at Oliver. She looked like a scared, vulnerable little child. She just nodded at him, but made no move to go. She looked over at Vladimir once more, glaring again.

"Look who got blood on the carpet this time." she muttered. She looked back over at Oliver for a moment. She pushed away from the wall and went to do as he said, calling the Aurors over. Within a few minutes, they were there, three of them, two men and a woman. She knew them, but she hardly cared enough to feel embarrassed. In any case, this would probably be all over the Daily Prophet the next morning.

Once they were gone, Lisa curled up on the sofa, bringing her knees to her chest. She rested her chin between her knees and stared at the floor for a long while, waiting for Oliver to come sit with her.

[woodatdawn]

Oliver went to the wine cabinet and removed the small bottle of whisky he kept there. He grabbed two glasses, setting them on the coffee table. He sat beside her before pouring a large portion for himself and a mouthful for Lisa. He held it up to her, smoothing one hand over the small of her back.

"I ken ye dinna like tae drink, but it will ease yer body and make ye feel warm. It's no enough tae get ye drunk, just tae ease yer nerves." He said softly, though he truly didn't expect her to drink any of it. He stood then and walked to the large patio doors and windows, locking them firmly and pulling the curtain to over them. He dimmed the lights in the room, magicked up the stain of Vladimir's blood on the carpet and at the very last, he lit a fire in their fireplace.

He turned and gazed at her for a long moment, his own whisky still in his hand. Seeing her sitting there, curled in upon herself, left him feeling guilty for letting the man even get near the house. He downed his whisky then and began circling the house, enhancing the wards, adjusting their signature to now specifically keep out Berbatov. A bit lucky that the bastard bled on the carpet, it was easier to perform the magic with a blood signature. Too bad he couldn't pop Skeeter in the nose, too. It would have made the wards against her easier.

When he was finished making sure the wards would recognise friends and family still, Oliver turned back to Lisa, feeling worse still. He wasn't sure how to comfort her, what to say. He finally felt as if she was safe, the wards boosted, Berbatov arrested, and the whisky sitting warm in his belly made him feel a bit more at ease. He sat down next to her once more and was glad to see Francie sitting dutifully at Lisa's feet, at point, back straight, looking fierce and determined for a dog her age.

"Go rest now, my white poppy. I'll see her through." Oliver said to Francie in Gaelic and Francie lifted a paw to Lisa's lap before making a small nose of comfort and padding out of the room and into the hallway, where she laid down between their bedroom and the front door, silently guarding her master and his mistress. Oliver couldn't help but smile. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. He still didn't kiss her, for fear it was too soon and he'd bring up some still fresh memories of Berbatov. He simply placed a kiss to her temple, right above her scar, letting her know he was there - he was there, not Vladimir.

"I've got ye now, lovely. I have you now."

[bright_lisa]

At first, Lisa refused the drink, shaking her head and turning away. But she hesitated after a moment and took the glass from him. When he turned from her, she downed it quickly, and promptly began to cough. That stuff was disgusting. She couldn't believe he drank it. She moved and set it down and then curled back up, reaching to pet Francie for a moment. She was grateful for Francie. She wasn't sure if she had helped much, but she had felt safer with her there, standing between them and growling.

As soon as Oliver pulled her into his arms, she moved her arms around him and hugged him loosely. She was soon clinging to him, though, and shaking. It didn't take much to realize that she was crying- something she hated to do in front of anyone but her father. Even Oliver. That didn't seem to matter to her, though. She laid her head against his chest and just let go. She'd never been so vulnerable in front of him before, and she was sure he noticed. She hoped he didn't think less of her. Lisa cried for a long time, not saying a word. She just clung to him and got his shirt nice and wet, something she'd be embarrassed for later.

[woodatdawn]

"Och," Oliver murmured, a bit startled to find her so suddenly crying and clutching to him. He hated to see her crying and he held her close. He let go of her only once, with his left hand, and pulled her afghan from Gram down and around her shoulders. He pulled her closer once more, sure if anything that the warmth of the fire, whisky and afghan might help calm her, like a bairn, in a cocoon, safe in the arms of someone who loved her, warm and taken care of.

"Shh," he said into her ear, tender and gently, his hand still smoothing over her back. "Shh, darlin', I've got ye safe now. I've got ye."

[bright_lisa]

His comfort was good. It made her feel a little better, but didn't stop her tears. Not yet. After he spoke, she pulled her head up, but avoided looking at him. She didn't want him to see her crying. It was bad enough that she was. She sat up a bit and wiped at her face, but it didn't do much but allow the fresh tears to create new tracks down her cheeks. She fell against Oliver again, hugging him tightly.

"Ollie," she choked. "I'm sorry."

[woodatdawn]

"Wha'?" he murmured, confused. "Why? Ye didna do anythin' wrong. Och, mo nighean donn, dinna cry, sweetheart, I've got ye, for now and for always. Shh," he murmured, again and again, cradling her close and rubbing her back. He never hated a man more in his life. He felt sorry for a split second, sorry that he hadn't hexed Vladimir to Kingdom Come. Still, he knew he'd never jeopardize his relationship with Lisa with the chance of Azkaban. Berbatov wasn't worth prison.

[bright_lisa]

She hardly heard him, though. After he finished, she continued. "Aren't you mad at me? I thought you were, for finding me with him like that. I didn't want him to kiss me, though, I want you to know that. I hope you know that." She hugged him tight again. "I don't want him."

[woodatdawn]

"Lisa," he said softly, tilting up her head so that she faced him. "Darlin', look at me. I'd have tae be a fool and piss poor boyfriend tae think for one wee hair of a second ye'd want tae take him back." He kissed her forehead and sighed heavily. "Aye, when I first came back, I didna ken wha' tae think. I didna ken who he was and I coulda hexed him on the spot - but then Francie growled and lookin' as she did, and you lookin' as you did, and then, fuck, the moment I heard him speak. Merlin! If he hadna be clutchin' on ye so tight, I might have killed him on the spot. After all ye've tol' me, I'd be a fool not tae know ye hated him."

[bright_lisa]

"Good," she said softly, staring up at him for a moment. She pulled her head away and hid her face from him, though. "Don't look at me." she murmured. Her face, she was sure, was red and splotchy and very unattractive. "I felt better with Francie there. I love her." she turned her head and kissed Oliver's shirt lightly. "I love you. Thank you. I'm just grateful that you came back early."

[woodatdawn]

He ignored her and reached out a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. He smiled softly at her before shrugging softly. "Yer beautiful and I love ye - and trust me when I say I've never been so glad tae have a twisted ankle in my whole life. I suppose I should put some ice on it though," he murmured and lifted his sneaker clad foot onto the table. He frowned - in all his anger and rushing adrenaline, he'd ignored the dull throb of his ankle, which was now an unsightly shade of black and blue from not having been properly dealt with.

[bright_lisa]

The moment she saw his ankle, she gasped a bit, then got up. She forgot all about her own troubles. "Oliver, bloody hell..." she rushed off and got her wand, then grabbed her books and lugged them in. "I can't believe you went all this time... That looks terrible, Oliver, really." She sat down and carefully took his shoe off, then his sock. Gently, she pulled his leg over into her lap and she gently touched the skin, shaking her head and looking down at his leg worriedly. "And you were more worried about me, Oliver. You really are a Gryffindor. They should add completely daft to the list of qualities, though." she looked up at him and smiled weakly to let him know she was kidding.

[woodatdawn]

"Wha'd ye have me do? Och, hullo there, Lisa! Bein' man-handled, I see. Let me get some ice, ye've got it for a bit, do ye?" Oliver rolled his eyes, his tongue more sarcastic than he really meant due to the pain he felt when she'd pulled his shoe off. He'd been joking of course, and was in no way mad at her. He smiled at her though, despite his sarcasm, and reached out a hand to her. "Yer worth more than a thousand ankles, ye ken. I dinna mind so much. Wha's a sprain and a few bruises compared tae losin' you?" He squeezed her hand gently. "But, if ye're tha' torn up over it, I'll no stop ye from dotin' on me and maybe wrappin' it for me," he said, giving her a cheeky half grin.

[bright_lisa]

She smiled and turned to open a book, flipping through it to find anything on sprained ankles. "I'll dote on you, all right, you big Scottish baby." She worked on his ankle for about ten minutes, casting spells to get the bruises to fade and to help his ankle a little. Her work wasn't perfect, though, and though it took away most of the pain, it probably still hurt a bit. She got some ice for him and pulled his leg back onto her lap. She placed the bag of ice over his ankle lightly and held it there, leaning her head back against the sofa.

[woodatdawn]

"Ye tired? It's been a hell of a day already. I could get some lunch delivered." He said quietly, watching her profile. He hated to see her so tired and worn out and just barely twelve, he noted, glancing down at his watch. "Draw ye a nice bath? Light the fire in the bedroom and maybe let ye have yer lunch there?" He leaned forward and took her hand in his. "Come on," he said sweetly. "I'll even paint yer toenails, or wha'ever it is girls want their men tae do for them." He laughed softly and gave her a smile.

[bright_lisa]

"No, I'm not too tired." She said. She opened her eyes and looked over at him as if to prove it. "And I'm definitely not sloshed enough to let you paint my toenails." She smiled and reached out to touch him, gliding her hand along his.