You Just Run
By Evilevergreen

Summary: They weren't actually blood, but they once called each other, "Brother." So what do you do, when the world you once knew starts to fall and there's no where else to run? You do it anyway – You Just Run. (Oliver and Marcus)

Posted: May 15, 2005

Chapter One: Remembering Yesteryear

Oliver Wood was stressed as he sat in his office within the Gryffindor locker room. He was preparing for his upcoming game against Slytherin. This game was crucial - vital even - mostly because it was Oliver's last year at Hogwarts, which meant that this was his last chance to win the cup for his House. And he wanted that cup more than he wanted air to breathe, and he knew he would do anything to get it.

As he worked on new plays, designed especially to best outwit the opposing team, he could hear the rain as it violently pounded on the roof outside the locker room. He could see the flashes of lightning that for a moment made his small dark office bright as day.

He sighed, he didn't want to admit it, but this was all starting to be too much for him. Oliver placed down his quill before running his hand through his short brown hair as he leaned back in his chair to take a rare moment to relax. He had to stop worrying. Sure the Slytherins would be tough to beat, especially if this weather kept up, but Oliver had faith in his team. He had trained them to play in all kinds of weather. Yes, there was no need to worry. But just as Oliver was in the process of actually starting to feel good about the upcoming game, there came a knock at his door.

He sat up and picked up his quill, mostly out of habit. "Come in," he ordered as he kept his brown eyes on the door. And as it opened, his state of relaxation went flying out of it. "Flint," he greeted the boy with the ear length black hair and ocean blue eyes. "Why are you here?" Oliver got straight to the point.

"Thought I'd find you here. We need to talk," Marcus simply stated as he walked into the office and sat on the opposite side of Oliver.

Oliver gave the boy in front of him a questioning look. "About what?" he asked slowly.

"Quidditch, of course," Marcus answered. "Why else would I seek you out?"

"Just get on with it, Flint." Oliver once again leaned back in his seat as he crossed his arms over his wide chest.

"As you know my seeker was injured awhile back," Marcus began and Oliver nodded. "He has still not recovered from his wounds, so my team is unable to play in the next game." One side of Marcus' mouth curled up. "A shame really, we were having such lovely weather."

Oliver stifled back a yawn before speaking, it was getting late."Understandable. So what date has our match been rescheduled for?" he asked thinking that this was good news, his team would have more time to prepare.

"Oh no, no dear Wood. I think you misunderstood me," Marcus began playfully. "We can't just simply cancel a match because of one injured player." The smile on his face widened. "You'll still be playing at the same time, it'll just now be against Hufflepuff."

Oliver's mouth dropped opened at the news. "What? No, that's not possible. I've been preparing my team to play against you, not Hufflepuff. We should have been told about this change up sooner."

"Aw, yes. That would have been nice for you, huh?" Marcus relaxed in his seat as he crossed his ankle over his knee. "Actually, I was suppose to tell you last week that there would be a change in the lineup if my seeker wasn't better," he shrugged his shoulders, "I guess it just slipped my mind." His smile never faltered. "My apologies."

"You son of a bitch," Oliver seethed as he slowly shook his head.

"Hey!" Marcus stood up quickly, knocking his chair down in the process as his fists slammed into the desk. "Watch what you say, Wood."

Oliver looked a bit ashamed as he lowered his head. "You're right, I'm sorry. Your mum's a saint." He then stood up and was eye to eye with Marcus. "But that sure didn't stop her from raising a piece of shit like you."

"Fine, I can deal with that, but I better never hear you put down the woman who practically raised you. You understand me? Because of the two of us in this room, if anyone's mum was a bitch, we sure to hell know it wasn't mine," Marcus explained before turning around to walk out.

"Flint, wait," Oliver called after him and he stopped. "How- how is she?"

Marcus snorted as he turned back to face Oliver. "If you really cared, you would have asked me that a long time ago."

Oliver looked distraught. "Marcus," he said softly. "What happened to us? We used to be so close."

"No the fuck you didn't," Marcus yelled in a burst of anger. "How dare you ask me that? Things aren't the way they were before because you. I mean, I don't even recognize you anymore." He marched back over to Oliver's desk. "Dammit! Look at this shit!" He tossed all of Oliver's papers to the floor and then a few at him. "Look at it!" Oliver took a step back; surprised at the force Marcus threw the pieces of parchment. "This wasn't you!" Marcus pointed back and forth between the two. "This wasn't us!"

Marcus looked angrily at Oliver as he said slowly, "You betrayed me, Wood." Marcus held his head high, but Oliver could see his face turning red, he knew this was only the tip of Marcus' anger. "I told you to stay away from her and you just couldn't," he explained. "Then there's this." He lifted his arms and made a circle indicating their surroundings. "You love this bloody game, more than anyone who ever loved or cared about you. We were brothers once, but that didn't matter to you, did it?"

"Mar-mar," Oliver began softly.

"Don't! You don't get to call me that anymore," He told him.

"You didn't love her," Oliver told him as he looked into Marcus' blue eyes.

"And you did? Because you did nothing more than use her and then you destroyed her!" Marcus took a deep breath as he calmed himself down. He wasn't going to let Oliver get to him, not today. He then smirked. "You know what? Sometimes I wonder if the Sorting Hat made a mistake when it sorted us."

"Why? What's wrong Mar-mar, afraid the other Slytherins will find out you have a heart?" Oliver asked bitterly.

Marcus slowly leaned over the desk towards the brown-headed boy, his breath was hot against Oliver's skin. "Only as much as you fear that your fellow Gryffindors will find out you don't have one at all. But don't you worry, dear Wood, you'll get yours soon enough," he then straightened back up and started walking backwards out of the room. "Because I hear payback is a bitch and you're long overdue." Lightning then flashed through the windows showing Oliver the exact intensity behind Marcus' eyes before he slipped out the door, leaving Oliver once again alone in his office.

Oliver sighed as he began to pick up the mess that Marcus had made. As he did this, he began to wonder, was this his fault? Was he really the one that had begun the rip that tore him and his 'brother' apart? Was it his fault that he, himself, didn't know how to care, as Marcus had once put it? No, of course not, Oliver's closed heart, was the fault of one person and one person alone. And her name was Siliva, the woman who had given life to Oliver and nothing more.


Oliver was seven years old as he walked through the flat of his home that he shared with his mother. "Mum!" he called for her, but got no answer. He set his backpack by the door and started to walk over to the stairs, which wasn't as easy as it sounded. The floor was litter with trash, dirty dishes, and clothing that hadn't been washed in weeks. Oliver had to maneuver his away around the mess.

He then finally reached the bottom of the stairs and began his way up. He traveled down the hall and towards his mother's bedroom. The door was closed and he gently knocked on it before letting himself in. "Mum?" he called, but again there was no response. He sighed heavily as he realized that his mother wasn't home. . . again. She had been gone since he left for school the day before, but Oliver wasn't worry because, for him, this was normal. She would often leave him alone for days on end.

Oliver made his way back down stairs. He looked at the mess around him and thought that maybe if the place was clean when she came back home that maybe she wouldn't leave him alone anymore. So the little boy with the big brown eyes set off to work. He first picked up the dishes and piled them in the sink to get them out of the way. He then grabbed a couple of garbage bags from under the sink and began picking up the mess in the living room. Placing the trash in one garbage bag and the dirty clothes in the other.

When the garbage bag was full Oliver began to drag it out into the hallway towards the elevator, so that he could take it down to the curve. He pressed the elevator button and waited. When it opened the tallest man Oliver had ever seen stood there. "Going down?" The man asked. Oliver simply nodded and the man held the elevator open as Oliver dragged the bag inside. "Well, aren't you a big boy, already doing chores around the house," he said nothing more as he noticed the little stood with his head down and waited for the door to open.

When they got to the ground floor, the man let Oliver out first and watched as he dragged the bag across the lobby. The man walked up to him. "Would you like some help?" The man offered. Oliver finally looked up at the man and smiled sweetly as nodded.

The man then helped Oliver out to the curve with the trash. "Thank you," Oliver said quickly and began to walk away.

The man looked at the little boy strangely and then called out for him, "Hold on, wait a moment." And Oliver turned back to him. The man squatted to be eye level with the boy. "What's your name?" he asked him.

"Oliver." he said simply.

"Well, it's nice to met you, Oliver," he stuck out his hand for the boy to shake. "I'm Alvin, Alvin Flint." He smiled at him. "I have a little boy about your age. Eight, right?"

"Seven," he corrected him.

"Aw, seven, that's good age." Alvin nooded his head as he rose back up to his feet. He stuck his hands in his robe pockets and looked up at the structure they had just left from. "I'm thinking about moving into this building with my family, but tell me, how do you like it here?" he asked the small boy.

Oliver shrugged. "It's okay. I guess."

Alvin smiled at the little boy before looking at his watch. "Well, it seems that I'm late for an appointment, but it was nice to meet you, Oliver."

Oliver only nodded before rushing back into the building and heading back up to his flat. He closed the door behind him and then headed towards the kitchen where he took one of the chairs from the kitchen table and pushed it over to the sink. He climbed up the chair carefully before running some dishwater to finish cleaning up.

When all the dishes were dried and put away, to the best of his ability, he grabbed his backpack by the door and brought it back to the kitchen table. He sat down and pulled out his work as he tried to ignore the hunger pains in his stomach. It would be no use to look around the flat for food, there was none. So he would have to wait to eat lunch at school, the only meal he usually ate when his mother would leave him on his own for days.

As he was finishing up his homework he realized there was still the laundry to do. He looked at it, stashed away in a garbage bag, curiously. When his mother did see fit to have them clean, she usually used magic. Sure, Oliver could do magic, but he had only done it on rare occasions and usually on accident.

Oliver smiled as he remembered the first time he had accidentally performed magic. It was about a year back and his mother had been so proud of him. She had picked him up in her arms and spun him around as she laughed joyfully. But then she grew sad as she placed him back on the floor and said as she held him close. "What am I going to do with you, Oliver, hmm? What the hell am I going to do?"

Siliva Wood, wasn't dealt the best hand in life, for it was a life she had dealt herself. She had come from a very respected, pureblood family and she had everything she wanted growing up as child. She was spoiled to say the least. When she was eighteen years old, her parents had told her about the arranged marriage they had set up for her, but had she told them she would not go through with it. That she was already in love with a man named Oliver Card. A man who was seven years older than her, whom she had met the summer after barely graduating from school. She then told them that she was already pregnant with his child.

Her parents were outraged and ordered her to secretly get rid of the child and marry the man they had chosen for her, but she still refused. Her father then gave her an ultimatum, saying that if she didn't do what she was told that she would be disown. Her mother looked at him like he a was fool and told him to take it back, but he was sure that his daughter would give in to him. She always gave a good fight before she did. So he was completely shocked and heartbroken when she once again refused before rushing out of the room in tears to pack her bags and leave the Wood home.

With everything she now owned packed in several suitcases, Siliva went to Oliver Card's flat, the same flat she would share with her son. She told him what happened with her parents and Oliver comforted her. He told her that everything was going to be fine; that he was going to take care of her and their unborn child.

The couple had planned to marry and for a time they were happy, but dark times were brewing as Voldemort was starting to come into his own, gaining powers along with followers with each passing day.

Siliva was seven months pregnant, alone in the flat, when she received an owl that told her Oliver had been found dead. Unknown to her and many others, Voldemort had been after him for recruitment for a long time. When Oliver refused once again, Voldemort finally lost his patience and had Oliver Card killed.

Siliva mourned for many months before her son was born. She named him 'Oliver' after the only man she had ever loved, but Siliva was lost. She was only nineteen, unwed, and had a new baby to support. She didn't know what she was doing. She thought of going back to her family, but she refused to give her two younger sisters the satisfaction of seeing her begging to come home.

Siliva had always been their father's favorite and never once had he tried to hide that fact. So when Siliva fell off the high pedestal she had been placed upon, her sisters were more than eager to take her place. No, she would not give them the satisfaction.

She would take care of her son on her own. No matter what she had to do.


"Merlin!" Siliva yelled at seven o'clock in the morning as she finally came through the doors of her home carrying, with great difficulty, three bags of groceries. She looked around the flat in surprise as she saw how clean it was. It's not that she saw herself as a bad housekeeper; it's just that some days, she honestly didn't have the time.

"Whoa, let me help you there." Came a man from behind Siliva as one of her bags were slipping.

"Thank you, John." She beamed at him as she continued to the kitchen to set the rest of the bags down.

After John laid his bags to rest he took Siliva in his arms. "So I'll see you in a couple of weeks?" he asked as they swayed back and forth.

"Like always," she told him before placing a kiss on his nose.

"Mama?" Came little Oliver's voice as he rubbed the sleep out of his eye. "Who's he?"

Siliva quickly pulled herself from John and went over to her son. She squatted before him before saying. "He's just one on mama's friends, okay?" Then with both hands she ran her fingers through Oliver's hair. "Boy, we need to do something about this hair of yours."

John then walked up beside the pair. "I have to go, but I'll see later."

Siliva rose back up to meet him. "Of course. You have a good day, okay?" John leant in to kiss her bye, but she pulled away slightly, looking down at Oliver for a moment, before shaking her head. John only nodded and then went on his way. "Are you hungry?" she asked her son.

Oliver held his stomach. "Yes."

"Alright. You go get ready for school and I'll put away these groceries and make you something to eat. How does that sound?" Oliver nodded his head happily, he loved it when his mother was home. "Well, then go on now," she told him and he went running back up the stairs. "Hey! What have I said about running?" She smiled as she knew he wasn't listening.

Siliva then reached for her purse that she had placed on the kitchen table with the groceries She walked over to the counter near the sink as she pulled out her wand. She said a small spell and the cupboard above her head opened and a blue plastic container settled it self on the counter. It was labeled, 'Oliver's Schooling' as she took off the lid and dumped the money from her purse into it before closing it up and putting it back into its proper place until she had time to drop it off at Gringotts. Because Siliva Wood would be damned, if her son got into a Wizarding school and she couldn't afford for him to go.

She sighed heavily as she quickly put away the rest of the food and prepared Oliver a couple of eggs and some pancakes. "Oliver, hurry up or you'll be late!"

To Be Continued. . .

A/N: Yeah, decided not to wait until the fall. Because I'm impatient like that and I need feedback.