NONA
After a couple days of laying on Jake's
brother's floor, Ollie came to terms with the fact that he had to return home or else his sister would aggressively plaster his face all over the Daily Prophet until a burly hit-wizard banged down the door and dragged him back. So, it was with burdened feet and a heavy head that he returned home... and an hour later found himself walking out the door dressed in full costume
regalia.
Melania had been home, of course, and immediately upon his return, burst into tears, emotionally declaring she was so relieved he had finally come back home, and that they could spend the whole night talking about what had happened, because wouldn't that help him feel better? And
not to worry, they were going to take care of everything! She was going to get more information from Max, Bruno would
definitely know what to do and-- he had let Melania go, only quietly stating after she had finished that he was fine, and actually wished to spend halloween out with a few friends.
Which was a complete lie, but at that point, his desire to escape the touching concern of his sister, even if just for one more night, was paramount. So here he was, feeling muddled at a party he had no intention in ever attending because---
Ollie choked on the fag he was smoking, having breathed in too quickly and too deeply at the sight of Nona Pepper just a ways off with her housemates. And select others. Arista? He stood up abruptly, knocking over something beside him. What, he couldn't tell, didn't think to look because his gaze could not be torn from her. An unsettled, and complex, mix of emotions left uncapped easily brewed over within him as he thought... how could she not have
told him? Was that the reason why she had disappeared? It pained him to think...
angered him to think... he could have, after all these years...
Ollie had quickly realized that
that had been why she rebuked his advances now, refused to see him, or speak with him at random. Because... a tender ache in his chest throbbed, and without thinking much else of it, and hurried toward her. He didn't think about discretion, wasn't concerned with curious eyes, could care less what the others may think; his gaze, his focus, was only on her.
Appearing all of the sudden before her, he spoke with surprising coherence. And, perhaps, with a bit of poignance, too. Turning his back to their peers, he watched her sadly. "I know about Ethiopia."
