I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. I own Lialy McGonagall/Black, and all other characters and plot points that aren’t from the books/movies, and yes I use information from both mediums. The fic is rated for language and some mildly sexual content as well as some violence, but nothing of consequence because, you know, they do most of their fighting with wands.

Behind Those Eyes
Chapter Two: Letters

Lialy spent most of the next day editing her notes from Oliver’s Quidditch game into another of her quote-unquote wonderful articles. When she was writing, usually nothing could intrude on her solitude, but as she reread her notes, images of Oliver kept flying unbidden back into her mind’s eye, and she found herself half-smiling in a dreamy state. When she caught herself doing this though, she would shake her head and grumble angrily at herself. She knew she was falling, but she didn’t want to reach that place where all she could think about was Oliver, not again.

At five o’clock, after a quick dinner of leftover roast beef and vegetables, Lialy went about gathering her things for an overnight bag. Her parents, Logan and Aislyn Black, had found out she was going to be in London, and they hadn’t let up until she’d agreed to stay with them. Her mother had pleaded that it’d been ages since they’d seen their daughter. Her impassioned pleas had guilted Lialy into saying yes. Once her bag was packed, Lialy moved onto the task of what to wear to the practice. Now, she wasn’t one to normally pay that much attention to her clothing – as long as it matched and was clean, it was fine – but the prospect of seeing Oliver again and all the old memories that had started to flood back had brought an overwhelming desire to look good. So, she stood in front of the mirror in her favourite slightly baggy, light-washed jeans and a thick, black turtleneck and debated whether or not it was suitable. After several overly long minutes of deliberation, Lialy decided it was and she pulled her dark brown-black hair back into a high ponytail and applied a bit of mascara to her eyelashes to make herself look that little bit more put together. It was five-thirty when she finally headed out the door to the curb of the narrow Hogsmeade street.

There was a loud BANG as soon as she stuck out her wand and a violently purple bus thundered into view. The Knight Bus came to a wobbly stop directly in front of her and a small, black-haired witch appeared at the doorway, a strange-looking ticket machine hanging around her slender neck. She smiled broadly at Lialy and, with more strength than Lialy or anyone would have thought possible from the small frame, heaved the bag onto one of the brass beds chained rather flimsily to the wall.

“Where will you be off to today, Miss Black?” Elizabeth Higgins, the small witch asked and Lialy sat down on one of the beds.

“The Puddlemere United practice field… I think it’s just outside London.”

“That’ll be twelve sickles.”

Lialy paid the woman from a moneybag tucked in the bag-like purse on her lap. Elizabeth gave Lialy her ticket and then proceeded to the bed at the front of the bus where she waited to greet the riders at the next stop. Now, Lialy was quite capable of Apparating to the field, but she wasn’t too fond of the feeling of having your body squeezed through something that was far too thin that came along with the teleportation. No, she much preferred the rocking, rollercoaster like ride of the Knight Bus; she also quite enjoyed watching the people wobble on an off, their faces varying shades of green.

At six o’clock, the bus lurched to a stop outside the pitch. Lialy climbed off the bus, her face not even slightly green – she had a very strong stomach – and headed for the stands. The players of Puddlemere United were already in the air, flying around in circles, warming up and waiting for the stragglers in the change rooms. Lialy seated herself at mid-level, which was the best place to see everything from without craning your neck uncomfortably, and pulled out her notebook and quill. You never knew when something you observed would come in handy later on.

When Oliver saw her, he came flying down and gracefully landed on the seats below her. He’d always seemed more comfortable on a broomstick in the air then on the ground. “Hey Lialy,” he said cheerfully. “I’m glad you came.”

Lialy beamed in response and nodded. “Me too. I’m looking forward to watching. You’re… sure it’s OK that I’m here?” Her green eyes briefly scanned the players behind Oliver, looking for any signs of displeasure at her presence. “No one’s going to mind, are they?”

He scoffed and waved a hand in the air, dismissing the notion. “Not at all. It’s not like you’re going to be flying around, disrupting the practice or anything. Besides, the Captain always brings his wife and kids to watch and some of the other players bring their families occasionally. You’ll be fine.” Oliver smiled reassuringly and wrapped his hands tightly around the handle of his broom.

“All right.”

“WOOD! Get back on this field. Right now!”

Oliver winced. “That’s the Captain. I’ll see you after the practice?”

Lialy nodded and smiled brightly as Oliver leapt onto his broom and swept into the air. She turned her gaze to the rest of the team, now standing in a small mob on the grass of the pitch. The Captain was tall and broad shouldered with dark blonde hair, graying at the temples. His face was well-worn from years of playing Quidditch, and he looked to be the oldest member of the team. He held his state-of-the-art broom in one hand and was holding a bat over one of his shoulders with the other. Obviously, he was a Beater. After he said a few words to the assembled players, the large group split into two smaller groups and one moved to the other end of the pitch. This, Lialy realized, was a practice for both the main and reserve teams – two years ago, Oliver had been on the reserve team and had only moved up when the previous Keeper had retired.

The two groups lifted into the air and slid into their positions to play a mock game.

This is going to be fun, Lialy thought with a grin. Luckily for her, she had picked the right end of the pitch to sit at, as Oliver started flying around the hoops closest to her. He waved when she caught his eye. That made Lialy giggle. He never would have seen me at a Hogwarts game.

“WOOD! Are you paying attention?” the Captain bellowed.

Lialy laughed out loud, but covered her mouth with her hand to try and muffle the noise. And he would have never let anyone get away with looking at someone in the stands. Actually… Her eyes drifted to the Captain. He reminds me a lot of Oliver. Both so obsessed with the game.

A memory came flooding back to her then.

She’d been sitting in the stands for the past fifteen minutes, watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team flying around the pitch and toss the balls back and forth as they warmed up. The Captain, who just happened to be Oliver Wood, was currently instructing his three Chasers in a new drill for complicated passes while the rest of the team sat in another one of the stands, chatting amongst themselves. Lialy didn’t know anyone else on the team, except one of the Chasers. She was tall and wispy with a shock of bright brown hair cut short and spiky and commanding red-brown eyes. She was a year older than Oliver, and was the sister of Lialy’s fellow first year, Lynn Hathaway. Her name was Vickery. She also happened to be bossy and self-absorbed and she did not like Oliver because he had become the Captain instead of her.

Lialy wasn’t too fond of Vickery, but she just avoided her instead of initiating anything.

After a few more minutes of jabbering, Oliver flew towards the stands where Lialy was sitting, as the Chasers began the drill behind him. His eyes were obviously glued to the pitch and not on the stands, because as he landed and went to sit down, he sat on Lialy.

She yelped in surprise. “Oi! Watch it!” she said without thinking. As soon as the words left her mouth, she blushed.

Oliver leapt to his feet and turned around. “Oh! Sorry! I, uh… didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously.”

He sat back down on the bench, this time beside her. “You’re McGonagall’s daughter, right? Lialy?” When she nodded, he smiled, pleased that he’d remembered. Or something. “I didn’t know you liked Quidditch.”

“I don’t. I’m just out here to watch the grass grow,” she jibed sarcastically. Oliver laughed a bit. That made Lialy grin widely and brought more red to her cheeks. “I love Quidditch, actually. I’ve never missed a game since I started living at Hogwarts and I’ve read most of the books about it,” she said proudly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I know everything about the history of Quidditch.” Lialy was bragging.

“You’re bragging.”

“I know.”

“Have you ever played?” Oliver asked.

“No. McGonagall isn’t too keen on letting me try out either. Says it’s too dangerous. She’s basing it on the fact that she had a major accident when she played and she doesn’t want me to miss a lot of school if I have an accident and she keeps using the old excuse: ‘people have died playing Quidditch!’ She won’t even give me a chance.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Lialy nodded, her eyes wandering back towards the field. The rest of the team had joined the Chasers and they were playing an exuberant game of catch while they waited for Oliver. Well, everyone except for Vickery, that is. She was hovering close to the stands where Oliver and Lialy were talking, her arms crossed and her mouth set in a scowl. Lialy wanted to laugh, because the look made the older girl look like she had something unpleasant shoved under her nose and was being forced to smell it.

“Oliver!” she snapped.

He turned his head. “I’m coming Vickery.”

“Well, we’re waiting.”

Ignoring her, Oliver turned back to Lialy. “If you really want to play, I’ll talk to McGonagall and see if I get her to let you try out next year. I’m always looking for good players.” He half-smiled as Lialy beamed up at him. “See you.”

“Bye.”

Coming out of her reverie, Lialy found herself smiling. That was a fond memory. How often do you meet someone by having them squash you? It also happened to be her first glance at just how obsessed Oliver was with Quidditch and how completely oblivious he could become to everything else when there was a game going on. At the time, Lialy didn’t know how important that information would become to her, or how devastating. At the time, she had just been glad he was talking to her, and she was overly enthused that he wanted to help her try out to play. Even if it was just because of the possibility of finding a new player.

She turned her attention back to the air in front of her. While she’d been daydreaming, the players had moved into smaller groups to run through drills and maneuvers. The lead Chasers were practicing scoring while Oliver flew around the hoops, and the reserve Chasers ran through a series of complicated maneuvers involving all three of them flying in unison. The reserve Keeper was watching Oliver from the ground and seemed to be committing his moves to memory for when it was his turn. The Beaters were practicing by two of them batting softer, immobile balls at the other two and trying to hit them. At the other end of the pitch, the Seekers were taking turns hunting down the small golden ball after it was released by the other. Oliver was totally focused on the game now, and Lialy had to admit, she was happy to see things hadn’t changed much at all.

When the players hit the ground and headed for the showers, Lialy looked at her watch. It was nine o’clock. Have three hours really passed? It didn’t feel like any time at all… Lialy had passed the time by naming the moves she recognized in her head. Doublebeater Defense, Starfish and Stick, Hawkshead Attack Formation, Reverse Pass, Sloth Roll Grip… Hm. I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun, she thought, drawing on the old cliché.

Lialy gathered up her things and headed down to the change room entrance where she took up residence on the ground to wait for Oliver. She leaned against the wall and thumbed through her notebook while she waited.

“Ready to go?” Oliver asked, stepping out of the change room.

She got to her feet and nodded, brushing herself off. “Knight Bus?”

Oliver nodded and they headed outside to the nearest street, which just happened to be more of a dirt path; there were only two lines of dirt in the grass to show where cars had driven, trying to get to wherever. Lialy stuck out her wand and there was another loud BANG and the triple-decker, purple bus appeared again. Elizabeth greeted them and took their coins and they climbed the spiral staircase up to the middle level, where there was only one other rider: a particularly green-faced witch who had her cheek pressed against the cool class of the window. Lialy and Oliver sat down on two beds across from each other, at the very front of the bus, where they could look out the large window.

“Where are you headed in London?” Oliver asked once they’d settled.

“My parents. When they heard I was going to be in the area, my mom pretty much forced me to come.”

“You would have gone anyway.”

Lialy rolled her eyes and nodded. Oliver was right. “I know, I know. But still. My mom’s got this way of… guilting you into doing whatever she wants. It’s a real bugger sometimes.”

“Lialy, you spent a long time not even knowing where your parents were or how they were doing. You and I both know you’d go see them whenever they asked without any pleading on their part. I would too. Anyone would if they’d been separated from their parents for as long as you had.” Oliver’s voiced dropped. “I remember you telling me you thought you’d never see them again.”

“You remember that?” She was genuinely surprised. She had only told Oliver those things because she’d needed someone to talk to, but she didn’t want to spend a lot of time listening to lectures about what everyone else thought she should do, and it had been the middle of Quidditch season. Oliver’s attention had been on coming up with new moves for the upcoming games, and Lialy had thought she could get everything off her chest sans any feedback. Not in a million years had she thought he’d remember. As Oliver looked at her, surprised by her outburst, she said, “I just… didn’t think you would, that’s all. It was a long time ago.”

Lialy stepped into McGonagall office for about the millionth time in her short life. It was a practical office, much like the woman it belonged to, and was devoid of any decoration save a large Gryffindor flag handing on the wall behind her chair and a vase of dark flowers on one corner of her desk. McGonagall currently sat in her large comfortable chair, a mug of steaming tea clasped in her hands, and a thin parchment envelope sitting on the desk surface in front of her. As Lialy walked it, McGonagall straightened slightly.

“What did you want to see me for?” Lialy asked, taking the mug of tea McGonagall handed her from the silver tray Lialy just noticed.

“This.” She slid the letter towards her charge with two long fingers. “It’s from your parents.”

Lialy almost spit her tea out. “What?” The eleven year old hadn’t ever received a letter from her parents – she hadn’t even known if they were alive for certain. “When did you get this?” She just stared at the thing on the desk.

“The middle of last night.”

A long minute passed as Lialy sipped her tea and stared at the letter. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to open it. She didn’t know her parents. She knew they had left her with Minerva as they ran from Death Eaters, and that the only reason she had been able to stay in England was no one on the Dark Lord’s side knew she existed. She knew their names were Logan and Aislyn Black, and she knew her father was the older brother of Sirius Black, the apparent mass murderer currently locked in Azkaban, and that her mother’s maiden name was McGonagall and she was the daughter of Minerva McGonagall’s brother. She knew she had her father’s eyes and her mother’s hair and face, and she knew she had the stubbornness and smarts of a McGonagall and the cunning and wit of a Black. But she didn’t know anything about how her parents sounded or looked or behaved. All of the things children took for granted were some of the things Lialy wanted most. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t happy living with McGonagall and that she didn’t love her great aunt, because she was and she did. But she wanted to know her parents.

Finally, she set her tea down and slid the parchment from the envelope.

Minerva,

This is just a quick update to say we are still alive and
well and that we’re on our way back to England. We’ve
got our eye on a house for sell in London – Aislyn’s
friend has been sending us newspaper clippings – and
once everything is set up and we’re settled in, we’re
coming to get Lialy. Of course, if she’d rather stay with
you for a while at that time, we’d understand, but
we’ll see.

This won’t be for a while of course, as we’re still a long
ways off, and there is still a lot to be done. But, please
let Lialy know that this is the plan. And be sure to let
her know that we miss her terribly and can not wait
to see how she’s grown.

Lots of love for the both of you,
Logan and Aislyn

Lialy read and re-read the letter, savouring each word. She couldn’t even guess where they were. Their location for the past nine and a half years was unknown except to two people – they’re two secret keepers: Sirius Black and the friend of Aislyn’s mentioned in the letter. Lialy didn’t know her name; just another thing to add to the ever-growing list of questions.

“They’re coming to get me?” She couldn’t believe it.

“Eventually. But don’t get your hopes up that it’ll be soon, because I doubt that.”

“I know, but still…” Lialy’s face finally broke into a smile. She got up from the chair and, clutching the letter to her chest, she ascended the many stairs to the Gryffindor common room. It was the middle of a Saturday afternoon in the spring, so many of the students were outside. The one student she wanted to see however, was sitting in one of the dilapidated arm chairs, a model of the Quidditch pitch on his lap. “Oliver,” she said, announcing her presence. He didn’t look up, just grunted, just like she had expected him to; just like when she had divulged her fears of never seeing her parents again. Then, she started pacing. And rambling.

“McGonagall just got this letter from my parents.” Here she paused to frantically wave the letter around for a brief second. “It says they’re on their way to London and once they get everything settled, they’re coming to get me. But I have no idea when that will be. It could be days, weeks, months, years, DECADES. I don’t know. I want it to be soon, but McGonagall told me not to get my hopes up because she doesn’t think it will be soon, and I can’t even make a guess because I have NO idea where they are and I never have! The only people who do know can not be reached, mostly because I don’t know where they are or where they… uh, are living?” She paused in her talking and walking, trying to see if that was a reasonable sounding excuse. “But I’m back to thinking I might never see them again, because what if something happens on their way here? What if they don’t make it back? And what if, when they DO make it back and I meet them for the first time since I was one and a half, and I hate them? What if they’re horrid? What if they want to keep moving and they take me away from Hogwarts? OK, that one was kind of ridiculous. I don’t think they’d ever take me away from here, but still. What if they DO? What if living with them is a nightmare? What if-”

“Shut your face, Lialy.”

She looked up, startled by the voice. Oliver was indeed staring at her, impressed by her rant, but it wasn’t he who had spoken. Standing behind his chair was Raelyn. Lialy blushed, embarrassed that he words had been heard by someone else and how foolish they might have sounded.

“You’re being a little bit paranoid.”

That was Oliver. Lialy blushed more. After giving the older teenager a look, Raelyn walked around the furniture and wrapped her arms around her friend.

“It’s OK Lialy. No matter what happens when your parents come, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks.” In a rush of emotion, tears started pouring down Lialy’s cheeks.

“You’ll be fine, Lialy.” Oliver had risen to his feet, the model of the pitch tucked under one arm. He placed his free hand briefly on Lialy’s arm and offered her a smile before ducking through the portrait hole.

Lialy watched him go as she leaned heavily on Raelyn’s shoulder. She sobbed once, loudly, and her friend hugged her tighter.

Lialy sighed and leaned farther back on the bed. Across from her, Oliver shifted forward so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was being a little bit paranoid,” Lialy confessed. “But can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not.” Oliver smiled.

The Knight Bus lurched to a stop, sending Lialy and Oliver’s beds colliding with the wall. Elizabeth yelled their location up the stairs, and Lialy climbed off the bed. This was her stop. “Night Oliver,” she said over her shoulder as she gathered up her bags. “I’ll talk to you soon?” When he nodded, she gave him a bright smile and disappeared down the stairs.

Oliver looked out the window, his forehead against the glass, a movement he regretted as the bus started moving again and his head bounced painfully. It was only about five more minutes before the bus came to a halt outside Oliver’s small London apartment. He slung his bag over his shoulder, descended the stairs and stepped, rather shakily onto the dark street; he could do any sort of trick on a broomstick, but when it came to riding the Knight Bus, his stomach did not agree. He had only obliged to ride it because he knew Lialy wasn’t fond of Apparating.

As soon as Oliver entered his kitchen where he dropped his bag on the chair in the corner, a dark brown owl flew into the window. He rolled his eyes and opened it so the owl could hop onto the counter and stick out its leg, a small roll of parchment tied there. His mood sort of deflated as he saw the white ribbon holding the parchment to the bird’s leg. It was from Lynn.

With a sigh, he unrolled the letter and read the neat, loopy writing.

Ollie,

Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a
couple days. Just wanted to hear how the Quidditch
is going and to let you know that I’ll be coming to
your game in Edinburgh. I was able to get the day
off work, so I’ll see you soon!

Lots of love,
Lynn

Oliver rather viciously crumpled up the paper and threw it in the garbage. He wanted to tell Lialy that he was seeing Lynn, but the history between the girls was keeping him from doing so. All through their time at Hogwarts, Lialy and Lynn had been rivals at everything: marks, friends, Quidditch… He closed his eyes and leaned against the counter. He would have to tell Lialy at some point. He’d just have to figure out how first. And then he’d have to tell Lynn that he and Lialy were friends again. He didn’t know how that would turn out because, where Lialy had realized she’d never have to see Lynn again and had moved past her hatred for the most part, Lynn had not. Lynn had always been jealous of Lialy at Hogwarts and still hated her deeply.

Oliver laughed at his friend’s imitation of McGonagall as he walked down the hallway with Tyler and Mark on either side of him. They had just come from Transfiguration class and Professor McGonagall had spent a good portion of the class yelling animatedly at one of the Slytherin students who had insisted on transfiguring his mouse into anything but the goblets they were supposed to be turning into.

“Did you see her face? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone turn that shade of red ever!”

Oliver laughed harder as Tyler held his breath, trying to produce the same results. The three of them continued to laugh as they rounded the corner towards the Charms classroom. Oliver didn’t make it all the way around the corner though, as he collided with something solid and about chest-high. There was a familiar yelp of surprise as what-who-ever toppled over and several heavy thuds as what Oliver guessed were books hit the floor. As his senses came back to him, he saw that he had collided with that girl… Lialy McGonagall, and a veritable library of books had littered the floor around her.

She looked up at him and blushed. “Oh. Uhm. Sorry, Oliver.”

Ahead of them, Tyler and Mark were laughing heartily and making rather nasty comments about the younger girl.

Ignoring them, Oliver started helping Lialy pick up her books. “It’s all right Lialy. You OK?” She nodded, keeping her eyes on the ground as she pushed her books back into a stack she could carry. Oliver picked up a thick tome with a dark green cover – one he recognized well. “Quidditch Through The Ages?”

“For about the hundredth time, yeah.”

He smiled and placed it on top of the other books and then he lifted the pile into her arms as they stood up. She mumbled a “see you later” and hurried on her way. Oliver rejoined his friends.

“Who was she Oliver? Your girlfriend?” Tyler jibed.

“Shut it Tyler.”

“Nah, Ty, that was McGonagall’s kid!” Mark snorted a laugh.

The continued on their way to Charms, Tyler and Mark making jokes about Lialy’s long-limbed and awkward appearance while Oliver kept quiet because he didn’t know what he could say to make them stop. Repeatedly telling them to “shut it” hadn’t worked so far and he had a feeling it wouldn’t no matter how many times he said it.

Later that night, after dinner, and when most everyone had gone up to bed, Oliver found Lialy sitting in her favourite chair and apologized.

“It’s fine, Oliver. I’m used to that sort of thing. It wasn’t just your friends that were bothering me, anyway.” She pushed her nose back into her Transfiguration textbook.

Oliver saw the hint and didn’t take it. “What else was bothering you?”

Lialy rolled her eyes and put the closed book on her lap. “Do you know the other first year Lynn Hathaway? Vickery’s sister?”

“I’ve seen her around.”

“She found out that I’m not allowed to try out for Quidditch and she wouldn’t let up on it all day. Her parents practically insist that their kids play Quidditch, you know.” Lialy paused a minute to grumble. “And then I showed her up in Potions and Charms and she keeps telling people that I get treated better because I’m McGonagall’s daughter and…” Lialy sighed heavily. “It’s just frustrating.”

Oliver took a minute to marvel at the complexity of this eleven year old’s drama unfolding in front of him. He didn’t really know what to say. “Uh…”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s just stupid stuff anyway.”

“Well, can I ask why you had all those books earlier? You looked like you were carrying half the library around with you.”

Lialy laughed softly. “Yeah… Well, Raelyn, Angelina and I were doing our Transfiguration homework in the library and after that, I was helping Ced-uhm, another student with his Potions work. And I checked out some books to read. I guess it was a lot of books. I never really thought about it.”

It wasn’t the fact that Lialy was helping an older student with schoolwork that surprised him – Lialy was very smart, and over the course of the year, he had come to realize that – it was the name she had almost said. Surely she couldn’t be talking about Cedric Diggory? He was a year younger than Oliver, and a very good Quidditch player, but he had heard that he was also quite smart. But he shook the thoughts from his head and smiled at Lialy.

That had been his first glimpse at what the rivalry between Lialy and Lynn would become, and also at the student Lialy was going to turn into.

Oliver sighed and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He was going to have to think on how to tell Lialy and Lynn about each other’s involvement in his life.

Author’s Note… OK! It’s been a while, but here’s chapter two. I know things seem a little slow compared to what I usually write, and that’s because this fic, as I have said before, is mostly romance, and something this strictly romance is kind of difficult for me to write, but I’m trying to expand my writing ability here.

Anyways, I tried to set up some drama and stuff in this chapter, so I hope that got across OK.

Oh, and a note. Lialy’s name is pronounced Lie-ale-y. Just in case you were wondering.

Next Chapter: Curiosity Killed The Cat. Oo, sounds exciting. But no, no one actually dies.