Dreams of Tantalus solo

"Gryffindor!" A distant voice called out, A table of blurry faces erupted into cheers. Aaron was the only one that stood out. Cheering louder then the rest. He watched himself, steeping off the stool and walking to the Gryffindor table. Taking a seat, but then he fell. Fell through the bench and ended up landing at his desk in History of Magic. "Okay, Ollie, picture this." The red headed girl began, @Novalie Moon*, A loud and somewhat annoying Ravenclaw.

This had all happened before. She asked to share his book, Oliver looked at her, her eyes looking back at his, she had forgotten. Oliver told her it was a one time thing, and to not forget her own next time. This was all there before. He didn't know what, but something wasn't right. He felt, numb, off, His hands shook as he pushed the book between them, but he didn't feel it being pushed.

Oliver looked away from the book, and back at the board, but he blinked and it was gone. He was in the library, nails painted,** He didn't know how he got there, but knew Noavlie had been there as well, he got out of the chair he knew he favored. And looked for her, "Novalie?" The voice was his, but sounded as if it was an echo on the other side of a cave. "Novalie where have you gone?" He walked through the library, clothing changing from his hoodie and jacket combo to a Black suit with red accents.

He felt like he was floating as he walked through the library, vines growing over the mess of books, hard stone floors transitioning into a dirt path. The ceiling had opened up, golden sun filtering through leaves that had branched off from the bookshelves. The Hogwarts library had become overgrown. The books returning the tree shapes they had come from. Oliver wandered through the forest, looking for the girl. He was sure he saw something dart behind that tree over there, a small orange-red creature.

So Oliver ran, gave chase, running after it. "Novalie!" Or was it Otis? His beloved cat. "Otis? Please wait for me!" He cried out in a desperate gasp, pushing past the leaves that had almost been trying to stop Oliver from following. And he tripped over a root in the forest. "Don't leave me behind!" A plea for whatever it had been to come back to him, to come help him. But the words died in his throat.

Oliver sat up on his knees, any shape of the library had disappeared, Oliver had never been, but there was a pull in his gut that he knew. He was in the forbidden forest. And Oliver felt fear, he didn't know what was going on. Normally he was able to use logic to overrule anything that would cause normal people to be afraid, but he was lost, and didn't understand. He got up, breath quick, leaning on a tree to help him stand, He looked around. The light was a small comfort here. But he followed it, climbing up a tree, hand reaching up for the light.

Oliver hadn't noticed the red ribbon tie that had been around his neck, representing his house, snag on a tree. It didn't choke him, just slipped off. Left behind. Even though he didn't notice it, he felt a weight off his shoulders. Oliver kept climbing up, and up, squinting at the sun. Reaching the tree tops. He looked out, and there was only one tree, when below the boy there was a entire forest. Above the tree, nothing, a blank white slate. "Oliver."

He looked for the voice, heart pounding, the forest didn't feel safe, but he knew what the forest was, the forest had the security of knowing what exactly to expect. "Oliver." Again, it was coming from the nothing. The unknown, what was it? Who was calling him? Why would he follow something he couldn't trust to take him somewhere where he had no idea of what could happen? Oliver shrunk into the tree. "Come to me Oliver, fly freely."


No, he didn't want to, he wasn't ready, He wanted to stay in the forest. Oliver climbed back down, climbing past the red ribbon that to followed him down. The voice calling him was fading, that same echoing sound that he had made in the library. "Are you happy Oliver?" He ignored it, till his feet, n0w bare where on the ground. And again, he ran from the voice, from what he didn't know. He needed something that was right. Oliver ran and ran, until he ran into the back of his father.

He turned to look at Oliver, looking down at him, Oliver stood up and tried to hug him, his father who he loved. Finally, something he knew, this is what he'd been running to. But his father pushed him away, back onto the ground, and scoffed. "Father? What's wrong? I- It's me?" Oliver's voice was small and quiet. "Your never going to be Gryffindor." A weight was heavy in his chest. And again he was falling.

He landed under a tree, And Novalie was again there*** looking at him, she was writing something. "It's ok Ollie." Her voice sounded just as it always did, still she had that smile on her face, he could make out the writing, the letter she had written his parents. It was all clicking. "Your alright."
~~~~~~~~~~
He woke up in a sweat, hands shaking breathing heavy, a dream. All of it a stupid dream. He grumbled to himself. "stupid..." he sat up in bed, looked around, a the Gryffindor banner that he had hung in his room so many years ago. He got out, feeling angry at himself, at the stupid hat, at Novalie for haunting him in his dreams. And he tore down the flag. A stupid reminder, and shit. He had to go to a party didn't he? Balling up the flag, Oliver threw it in the corner where he could forget about it. Forget about how wrong this was.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the wall. Everything was so- messed up. This wasn't how it was meant to be. He wasn't Slytherin, but as his dream father had said, he will never be Gryffindor either. How did it all go so wrong? Why was he placed in this stupid house. In stupid green. Stupid boy. There was nothing he could do about it. And he hated that fact more then anything.

Growing up was a strange thing, watching someone grow up was even stranger.

Oliver Armani had finished his first year. He had really begun his education. Was he happy with how his first year went? No. Not even a little bit. It had started with him being placed into Slytherin. He was not a Slytherin. No way in hell could he have been one. His family was all in Gryffindors. He found out he was less then good at casting spells. His stupid wand didn't work. The classes they- they were harder then he liked to admit. The ones that were 'wand heavy' and needed spellcasting. Such as charms. God did he hate that one.

Now, He wished he could say he was happy to be home again. He thought he would be, during that last month of school all he was able to think about was getting home. Home back to his mother, and father, and younger siblings, able to hang out with Aaron whenever he had wanted to. No house separating them, no classes stopping them from hanging out. It could just be like old times. Like the summers before Oliver started, when Aaron had been the only one at school. When he could spend time running around in the woods, not having to worry about this nonsense.

That had been at least until Aaron had given him the worst news he could have. "I'm moving further into Hogsmeade, to be closer to my job." Aaron, his best friend. He was leaving Oliver. "I'm packing now, if you want to come and help." Oliver had been siting on the couch in one of the lounges in the house. His heart had dropped into his stomach. He was leaving now? Oliver clenched his fists. Standing up and walking away from the traitor. He couldn't believe this. Aaron didn't even try to stop him.

Oliver stormed up to his own room, the Gryffindor banner still balled up in the corner from when he tore it down during winter break. He started to pace, Aaron, he was leaving. Oliver didn't understand why he needed to. They were close enough to Hogsmeade right here, with his family. Besides there was no way he would be a simple bartender for long. He was Aaron after all, Aaron could have any job he wanted. Why. Why the hell would he leave Oliver like that? Now, was he really? No. Not a whole lot. Oliver could walk down there at any time. But, what if he just needed someone late at night to talk to? What if he wanted Aaron to taste test his newest baked good? Who could he show his newest painting to?

It was all- wrong. Things where changing and he didn't like it. Didn't like it one bit. He took a deep breath, and looked down at his leg, where his cat had rubbed against it. Then watched as Otis walked over to the closed door and pawed at it. He sighed and shook his head, letting the feline out. And then looked up as Aaron moved his boxes out of the room. Aaron's room, old one, Would become Oliver's. There was not a doubt to his mind. Aaron's room was bigger then Oliver's one right now.

Aaron was weak. He couldn't lift a box, with a roll of his eyes, and ignoring that sting Oliver walked into Aaron's room. Taking the box from him with ease. Pulling it was more likely the better words for it. "Move," He grumbled out, not making eye contact with the elder Armani. "Let me." With much ease Oliver carried it out, watching as Aaron picked up a much lighter box with the word 'clothing' written on the side in his messy handwriting. He let out a huff, not at the weight, but at the action. Having to move his things.

The t-shirts Oliver had 'borrowed' all the time when Aaron had been at school, the memorabilia that he'd been so sure would belong to him one day. Never. It was all Gryffindor. And Oliver was not. The things he'd laid claim to so many years ago, would now likely be going to his younger siblings. He walked through the halls, even with eight people in the house it felt to large. Carrying it to a spare room, one dubbed storage. Used like a basement, filled with boxes upon boxes of crap they had no use for. Never to be donated, as 'the lesser folk didn't deserve there things' so his father had said when Oliver inquired about it some time ago.

He set the box on one of the tables, and for a while Oliver just stood. Biting his lip, griping the edge of the box hard, cracking the cardboard. Hardly noticing as Aaron ruffled his hair. "Damn Ollie, you didn't even break a sweat." Aaron was the only one that was able to get away with this, without Oliver getting pissed off. Calling him nicknames, touching him. It was rare for Oliver's shitty moods to have been caused by Aaron. But today it was all Aaron's fault. And he didn't want to look at the stupid man's stupid face. So he tried to walk away from him, walk past to gather another box. Only being stopped when Aaron put his hands on Oliver's shoulders. Spinning him to look him in the eye. "Hey, is something going on? Your not as snarky as you normally are? You know you can talk to me."

Damn him, damn him to hell for leaving. Talking to him like there was no issue, like he wasn't abandoning Oliver alone like this. Aaron may as well have been the only one not looking at him like he ruined the whole family tradition, even though he had. Aaron had been treating Oliver just like always. Like he was Gryffindor, and really, it felt like he was the only one. And now he was leaving. He shrugged, and pushed Aaron's hands off his shoulders, maybe a little harder then he needed to. Taking a step back, trying to play it off like it was nothing. Like he was indifferent to this whole thing. "I just don't know why you need to go." He had spat it out with all the venom as a snake, real fitting. Not how he meant to say it. But he had. Before Aaron could answer, protest, even blink, Oliver had turned on his heals and walked out of the room. The one no one thought of, the one that had been cleaned once a month if that. The one all of Aaron's crap was going in.

He needed to get out, get away from Aaron, out of that room before he cried. He was already holding back the tears. He had made a promise to himself that he wouldn't cry in front of another person, not again. It was a stupid thing. A stupid, stupid thing to cry about. He should be happy for Aaron, happy for his brother who was going onto bigger and better things. But he wasn't. He was being selfish, wanting Aaron to stay so he could feel a little better about himself. But there was no time to dwell on that. He just wanted a friend that wasn't his cat. And Aaron was the best person for that role. Was that bad? Was it wrong to want that?

He didn't care, he was helping. Running back up to Aaron's room, stubbornly lifting the bare mattress off his bed. All by himself, See. He could do things himself. He didn't need Aaron. He was strong enough to lift it all alone. He could do things alone, he had to do things alone now. Now that one of the only people Oliver actually liked was leaving. It was just a few blocks away, but it may as well be an ocean. He pushed the mattress into the hall. "Ollie..." Aaron called out to him, having caught up with the younger boy. "Come on Ollie let me help." He hated it, this whole thing, this day. That tone Aaron talked to him in, like he was some scared animal. Oliver glared at him.

It wasn't scary, not with the tears that threatened to fall from Oliver's eyes. The way his hands shook as he pushed the mattress though the hall, leaning it on the wall. "I don't need your help." He hissed at him. Going into his own room, his old room he should say. Going to his bed, with his made sheets, picking that up, the bedding falling onto the floor, he pushed that out to. Pausing only to wipe at his eyes. "Oliver please, it's heavy. Let me help you." Oliver. Aaron almost never called him that, it wasn't heavy. It was all light compared to that weight that his brother was growing up and leaving him behind.

He pushed the mattress onto the now empty bed frame in the near empty room. And then climbed onto in, holding his knees close to his chest. Aaron walked closer, looking at him with, the hell was that look? Was it pity? He glared at him. Action void with the tears quietly falling down his cheeks. "Come on Oliver," Aaron sat on the foot of the bed, Giving Oliver his space. "You can come down any time you want, you can spend a few nights there." He huffed and looked away, holding his legs tighter. His grip was near bruising.

Oliver wasn't looking at him, but he could hear Aaron sigh, move closer to him, He let out a huff. Ignoring him. "And if you want, you can sneak to Hogsmeade to see me. And I won't tell mom or dad." Oliver looked up at that, he was going to be a second year, he wasn't allowed to be there. He had already gotten enough detentions this year, he didn't need anymore. Damn. But if that wasn't enticing. He took a deep breath, and then let it out. "We can do whatever you need, hang out, talk, whatever. I'm not leaving, I'm just moving for a little bit."

"You better keep your pantry stocked." He grumbled still not looking at him, Aaron shifted to sit right next to Oliver. Pulling his shoulder so he was leaning on him now, again, Aaron was likely the only person that could get away with this. He ruffled Oliver's hair again, and again Oliver didn't push him away. "I'm staying with you for summer." Of course he didn't ask, there was no need to, he just wanted one more summer with his brother. And damnit he would be getting it. Aaron simply nodded.

"I already have a spare room for you."

Winter, A season Oliver was less then partial to. The winter winds were harsh, snow untouched sparkled under the sun. A blinding white, for some reason, Otis was infatuated with the crystalline compound. "Otis, can you give it a break?" He shouted across the yard, holding his jacket closer to himself. Dressed in his pajamas, having not planed on going outside. Otis of course, ignored Oliver. He huffed, a puff of white escaping his lips. "Damn cat..." An angry mutter, though hollow. Oliver knew he would do anything for Otis, and Otis seamed to know that as well. Rolling in the snow, the white coating the top part of his fur.

He was going to have to chase Otis down. The cat seamed to do near nothing but sleep. A lazy, lazy cat. Didn't even chase the other students pet rats in Hogwarts because he didn't want to get up. It had been part of the reason Oliver choose him when Aaron offed to buy a pet for his first year. And yet, now here they were. Otis, only getting off his ass to run in the snow.

It crunched beneath his feet, as he walked to where Otis laid on his back. A hiss escaping his lips at the cold. "Damn-! Damn-! Agh Damn it-!" He swore as the cold melted in through his slippers. He rushed to grasp Otis around his mid sector, holding the cat close. "I have half a mind to leave you out here." A clear empty threat, both knew it. Otis just meowed and tried to squirm his way out of Oliver's arms. But he held firm, until they were both inside, nice and warm with the door closed tightly. Only then did he put Otis down, who promptly jumped onto a window, looking outside as if a princess trapped by a dragon.

Oliver tossed his jacket onto a coat rack, and half hardly kicked his slippers off by the door. He rubbed his arms up and down in a frugal attempt to warm himself. He sunk into the couch wrapping a red blanket with Gryffindor's house crest on it around himself. Near all the Armani's throw items in there sitting room had dawned red and gold. Proud of there house. Now it made him want to scoff. How stupidly blind they had been. Maybe he was just telling himself that. It didn't mater now. He hoped so at least.

With a sigh he looked around, no one was in the room. Just himself, and the fire. Of course, just his luck, it was getting low just as he got comfortable. Pushing himself up, he walked near it, felling the fading warmth on his cold skin. He picked up a log from a small pile and carefully placed it onto the flames. Squatting to watch it. It provided more comfort then the blanket. Not dawned in colors he couldn't wear.

"what next Mom?" A voice asked followed by a laugh, Oliver looked from where the sound had come from, standing up. He knew that voice, his younger sister. Would be starting Hogwarts next year. His curiosity was peaked. Following the sound of his mother's instructions. Hardly hearing Otis leap from where he was perched. He kept walking, the noises leading him to the family's kitchen. The site he was met with left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Cookies, the two were making cookies. Otis rubbed against Oliver's leg and meowed once more. "Hush." He snapped at the cat. Such a trivial activity. He clenched his fists, seeing an open book on the counter. One with all Armani recipes in it. Oliver had it known by heart at this point. They were making special cookies, ones that melted in his mouth, chocolate goodness that appeared to warm him right to the core.

At one point, not many years ago, Oliver had asked his mother if he could make them with her every year. Where she had replied by putting flower on the boys nose. Telling him 'they'd done it together so long, it was already tradition.' Then she had hugged him, promising they would do it every holiday when he went to Hogwarts. He took a shuttering breath."Mother..?" He asked, maybe it was an accusation. He wasn't sure.

His sister turned to look at him, from over her shoulder. She had a smug look. "Ollie!" Her tone was deceptive, a fake smile on her lips. "were making cookies!" Oliver's eyes looked around the kitchen, it was a mess. Flower and sugar on the counter, on there clothing, looking like the snow that was outside. He took another deep breath. Clenching and unclenching his fists, such a small thing. Causing him this much distress.

Mother rolled her eyes, "Oliver, calm yourself. I simply thought you were asleep." Her voice was relaxed as she cracked an egg into the bowl, not looking up from the book. "Your sister wanted these cookies, it's not that big of a deal sweetheart." Not that big a deal? He nodded, and turned on his heal, walking out.

"Of course, I- I apologize." Not that big a deal. She had only promised him that they would do it each year on break, a promise that had clearly meant nothing. He could hear his sister laughing, asking what that was about. Causing him to freeze in his tracks. Holding his breath to hear how his mother would reply, if she had forgotten what she'd told him. 'nothing important dear, you know how your brother loves to bake.'

He closed his eyes and stormed up stairs, unsure weather the winds outside or his mother's dismissive words were colder. Just about confirming what he'd known all along. Things were not the same anymore, He was Slytherin and everything had changed. Like he wasn't part of the family, just someone that lived in there home. He passed Aaron on the way to his room. "Oliver?" He asked, placing his hands on the younger's shoulders. "slow down man, what's going on?"

The one person Oliver could trust in this world. He sniffled for a moment, a hint of weakness. "Everything has changed and I don't like it." Aaron said nothing, no reprimands, no shame, but nothing comforting either. Just pulled the younger into a hug, letting him know that he was there. "It'll get better Oliver, just trust me."

He wanted to, he really did. He just didn't know how it would.