Nobody's gonna hold your hand

"I'll be home in a few hours."

"Don't go doing something stupid."

"When do I?"

"Don't even -"

Olivia ran into Honeydukes before her mother could finish her sentence. She hadn't exactly been the most willing person to let her daughter go off alone anymore. Not after what happened the year before. Olivia couldn't help but feel cooped up and over protected by her mother. She could go somewhere on her own, she wasn't stupid and she wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She wouldn't even let any guy near her now. Tyler was pretty much the only exception and she was even cold toward him sometimes. It's not like she could help it, but sometimes she felt she shouldn't act that way toward her own little brother. What harm could he do to her?

Liv waited until her mother was gone to come out of Honeydukes. While she waited, she bought a few sweets for herself. She came out of the shop with a chocolate wand in her mouth and she looked around for her mother. After making sure that the woman wasn't there, Olivia walked down the street wondering what she should do. There wasn't really much for her to do int he small village and she quickly found herself wandering around bored. She glanced down the path that would take her to the Shrieking Shack and shrugged. "Nah, I'll go there some other time." she said to herself, waving passively and walking away.

The Ravenclaw quickly decided the best place to go was the Three Broomsticks. At least she could get a drink there. Maybe something entertaining will actually happen while she was there. After walking into the pub she sat neat the window and ordered a butterbeer. Looking out the window the girl sighed and thought about her daughter. She wondered what she was doing right now. Olivia knew that she was happy with her new family, but she wished she could see her right now. Lily would be turning one in the next month and she knew she probably wouldn't be able to see her on her birthday, but she really wished she could.

The waiter came back with her butterbeer and Liv sat there staring down at the drink, blinking back tears as she thought of her soon to be one year old daughter.

Teenage girls adored chocolate. It was a way of coping with all of the angst and drama such a tender age ensured.

Werewolves liked it too; for a similar reason, naturally.

It wasn’t Gracelyn Llewellyn’s belief that she was welcome at her home. Her mother’s frostiness was expected and her step-father’s indifference, an inevitability. Her sister was enveloped in a tight embrace on the platform at King’s Cross. Without so much as a word to Grace, her mother whisked Lillian away and left her husband to pick up her youngest daughter’s bags. He acknowledged Grace - he did that much - but didn’t bother helping her with her trunk.

It was very un-Grace-like. In hindsight, perhaps she shouldn’t have done it. Something had possessed her though, something which had made her feet move with robotic, one-track directness - an automatic stretch of the legs which she did not feel as though she herself was instructing.

Grace got back on the train. She found a quiet compartment away from those boarding to go to Hogsmeade station and rode up back into the little Scottish village, arriving a little after six o’clock in the evening with very little money and no idea as to how best to proceed from there on in.

Thankfully, a branch of Gringott’s was still open in the village and after withdrawing some money, Grace took a room in the Three Broomsticks where she got a warm bed, a blazing fire and breakfast in the morning for a handful of galleons - and for that money she could have the room all summer.

By candlelight, Grace began her summer homework as a way to stave off her anger. After taking a vial of Wolfsbane with a mouthful of Butterbeer, she stripped down and put on her pyjamas, her head hitting the pillow just as she fell into slumber-land.

The Full Moon came and went in the Shrieking Shack as it always did while at Hogwarts and when Grace trooped in the following morning weary and hungry, the barmaid took pity on her and found out a leftover steak and ale pie for her to sink her teeth into and fill her stomach with.

The hurt of the Full Moon was still something she was trying to overcome that mid-morning when she returned to the pub with a mind to pick up a jumper to ward off the cold. She’d taken a job in the textiles shop with a talented dress maker who saw no promise in Grace in terms of making clothes but certainly trusted her abilities as a cashier.

A Quidditch game was being showcased on one of the Muggle televisions hooked up to the Quidditch cameras and Grace squinted, satisfied to find the Catapults playing the Tornadoes. Even if she wasn’t home, she could still watch her team.

Grace took a detour and picked up a Butterbeer from the bar before making her way amongst the people that had gathered and took a seat next to a girl one table over whose tearful eyes distracted Grace just as the Tornadoes scored - something she was mentally quite grateful for.

“Are you alright?” Grace asked, her facial expression screwing up with worry. “Is there something wrong with your Butterbeer?”

It was hard for Olivia to get her mind off of Lily. She wished her parents hadn't made her give the little girl up. She might have been young but she could have taken care of her daughter. She wouldn't have been alone after all. If she didn't know how to do something, she would have asked someone to help her. But she hadn't even been given the chance to do anything with her daughter. She couldn't prove she could take care of her.

It actually made her a bit angry. Sure she'd made a mistake, and she was probably really stupid for even allowing it to happen, but that didn't mean she wasn't responsible enough to care for her own child. It wasn't fair, but if she said that she would probably just be told that she was being childish, which was probably true.

A voice got her attention and Liv looked up from the butterbeer. "No, no I'm fine." she said softly. The girl took a sip of the butterbeer, looking at the girl and said, "There's nothing wrong with the butterbeer either." she tried to smile at the girl who had spoken to make it seem like nothing was wrong.

She turned in her seat a bit to look at the Quidditch game that was on and she sighed softly. Maybe this would work to distract herself from Lily. Quidditch usually distracted her from any problems she had. Although, she was usually playing instead of watching. This would just have to do for now, she supposed. Maybe later she'd be able to do something else Quidditch related.

Liv pulled her legs up onto her seat and hugged them close to her. She placed her head in between her knees and tried to focus on the game, squinting a bit as she tried to see what was going on. Suddenly she remembered the girl was still there and she turned her attention away from the television and looked at her.

"Er... Do you like Quidditch?" she asked the girl somewhat timidly.

It was a friendly, this game, it being the off season but that didn’t make it any less exciting and just thinking about it made Grace wriggle in her seat, eager to get closer, eager to be there in the stadium screaming her own encouragements.

She was a Llewellyn - Quidditch was in her blood.

Part of her was desperate to be a semi-professional or even a professional Quidditch player but the federation was even more racist and discriminatory than the Ministry - no Werewolves allowed. It was an impossibility until opinions changed but still, Gracie could dream.

Smiling a little at the girl, Grace held out her hand for her to shake.

“I’m Grace,” she introduced herself. “I’m a Hufflepuff. You’re in Hogwarts, right? You’re in my year, aren’t you?”

She looked back at the screen when the girl spoke and she nodded enthusiastically.

“My dad played Quidditch. He was amazing. Well, I think so.” She felt her cheeks warm a little. “It kind of runs in the family - the love of Quidditch. I watch it as much as I can. I’m a Catapults girl. What about you?”

Olivia had always had a strange love for Quidditch that didn't seem to run in her family. Her father played before but didn't really like it. Her mother barely knew anything about it. Tyler just hated the sport and her older brother, well she didn't know about that. He seemed to hate everything she liked, so she assumed he hated Quidditch too.

Liv always wanted to play on the Ravenclaw team, but she never tried out. She doubted her skills as a Quidditch player, though she wanted to be at least a semi-professional player some day. It was probably time for her to stop doubting herself and play while she still had a chance to.

She extended her hand out and shook Grace's hand as she introduced herself, smiling back slightly.

"I am - for both things. But I'm a Ravenclaw." she answered, nodding slightly. "My name's Olivia." she added, letting go of Grace's hand and looked at the television as the girl spoke.

"You like the Catapults?" she asked, her smile growing. "So do I!" she exclaimed happily before looking down quickly, her cheeks getting warm. "I don't know where my love of Quidditch comes from. No one in my family really likes it that much." Olivia said, glancing at Grace.

Dogs do this thing where the wag their tail and jump around excitedly when they’re, well, excited.

Werewolves weren’t exempt from that.

Tail or not, Grace was really feeling the need to jump around excitedly.

Her mother didn’t share her late father’s love for Quidditch but certainly admired the fame that came with being with a Quidditch player. There was also a certain amount of fame to be had being the woman whose husband was eaten by a Chimera. That’s all Jasmine had ever wanted, really - fame. Grace didn’t share her sentiment and hated it when the Prophet dug out old pictures of her father around the anniversary of his death - it was unnecessary but always a big boost for her mother’s business.

Olivia liked the Catapults, though. That was massive. Immediately, they were friends - or, at least in Grace’s mind, but she wasn’t nearly brave enough to exclaim such a thing. Perhaps she’d buy Olivia a Butterbeer, though, to add to the camaraderie.

“Who’s your favourite player?” Grace asked eagerly. “I really like the Seeker - Richards... he’s ... uh...” Grace’s cheeks coloured pink. “Well, pretty dreamy.”

She laughed awkwardly and swallowed a mouthful of Butterbeer, stifling her embarrassment before the evidence of it swept down her neck and down towards her toes.

Putting the glass down, Grace wiped her mouth with the cuff of her shirt before turning to Olivia again.

“I’ll never make prof.” The redhead confided. “But I’d love to teach kids if nothing else. They do camps during the summer for kids. It’s really sweet. My dad used to make me go. I loved it. Well, half the time it was me insisting I go. I was never made to. Have you ever been?”

She knew there had to be lots of people who liked the Catapults. It was only natural. But she didn't know anyone else who liked them. Whenever someone she knew talked about Quidditch, the only names she heard were usually the Falcons and Harpies. She admitted, it made her a little bit sad but she always stuck by her team.

She froze at Grace's question and looked at the television, tilting her head to the side. "Hm..." Choose one to be her favorite? That was impossible! Well, maybe not totally impossible. "I like Andrews." she nodded. "I love the way he plays. And beater's my position." she added with a smile. "That is... If I'd actually play on a team." she laughed sheepishly.

"I know how you feel." Olivia said. She stopped to take a drink of the butterbeer and continued. "I'll probably never make prof either. I'm not that good." she added. Their reasons were probably totally different, but Olivia wouldn't know if she never tried.

"That'd be fun!" she exclaimed once more. "I've been once. I had lots of fun and just loved it. My parents wouldn't let me go again after that time though." she sighed. "I'd love to go again some time." she said with a shrug.

It was a rarity, indeed, to find someone who liked the Catapults and though at first, Grace’s belly twisted and turned nervously in her gut, she soon gained enough confidence to press for preferences. Her inner angel and devil, both, were very pleased with her - shocked by her ability to form sensible, coherent sentences around another person. Grace hastened to mentally correct them, reminding them that Olivia was a girl - she wasn’t nearly as scary as boys. Of course, Grace’s fear was quite different to her new found friend’s.

Still, Quidditch was, as ever, a decent and sizeable distraction.

Beaters were a particular breed. Grace herself had tried it out at one point in time but hadn’t ever gotten very far with it, preferring instead the Chaser position in which she did have a certain amount of skill. She knew the Beater though - not personally but she’d watched him, though granted she was a lot more impressed with the Beater on the reserve team.

“I heard some talk that Quality Quidditch Supplies were sponsoring some sort of Quidditch day for students out of Hoggies with nothing to do. It sounds pretty good. There are so prof players going apparently to help train and stuff. Then we’ll play some games, apparently.”

Grace shrugged. At the moment, it was all hearsay.

“Andrews is good though.” Grace conceded as an afterthought. “Did your dad teach you - about Quidditch, I mean?”

Olivia was suddenly excited that there might be a Quidditch day of sorts. She hoped it was true, since she was dying to play. This year would be the year she tried out for the team. But she needed practice, and lots of it at that. Mostly she needed confidence. No one really thought she could make it on the team, except Tyler, but he was always the one who cheered her on even if he knew she was going to fail.

Liv looked excitedly to Grace. "If that's true, we should go!" she said happily. Though she'd only just met the girl, well was actually acquainted with her, Olivia had already decided they were friends. She probably wouldn't say anything outloud - yet, but it was already decided.

"It'll be fun!" she added with a giggle. Maybe she was a little too excited now.

"Er... Sort of." she answered. "My dad isn't all that into Quidditch. I learned more from watching games and friends play." she admitted.

Taking a swig of her Butterbeer, Grace’s eyes watched as the Quaffle was tossed between her team’s Chasers, only to be beaten away mid-air by one of the opponent’s Beaters. Grace grumbled into her glass but said nothing, resolving to not complain unless absolutely necessary - though such an act did ruffle a few fears down the front by those who saw it first, before the images reached them at the back.

“We so should!” Grace enthused with a bright grin. “I trimmed my broom-sticks and everything the other week so I’m so ready for this. I hope there is going to be some sort of tournament involved as well. That’d be amazing. Wouldn’t it be cool as well if they had some professionals there like ... to scout? That would be bloody spectacular!”

Grace tilted her head to the side and grinned. “There’s always the weird one in the family that loves Quidditch with a burning passion, isn’t there? Personally, I think it’s great. We should have a game, maybe. Find some other people and have a game out on the green! Then we’ll be all warmed up for the day.”