The end of the line [Oberon]

[Oliver Russell Blishwick]

21 April 2029

Ollie was Not Okay (TM). His study schedule hadn’t panned out the way he’d planned – apparently you couldn’t just cut out sleep and hope for the best. The closer he got to his NEWTs, the more he’d realized that a change of plan was necessary. So Oliver had written off a couple of subjects in which he’d likely get good marks without putting in too much effort, and he’d doubled down on the rest. To that end, Easter break hadn’t been much fun so far. He’d shut himself in his room with his textbooks and his spreadsheets, since he was never going to find this much quiet time in the halls of Hogwarts. His mum wasn’t a bother – working overtime at the bank – but Ollie had warned his dad off from entering his room…unless he was bringing snacks, of course.

He'd warded off the usual questions (did he really intend to spend his whole break like this, was he really so worried about his exams) and shut the door in his dad’s concerned face. Oliver had figured that would have consequences, but he should have known that his dad wouldn’t choose a usual means of punishment. No, he wouldn’t give him extra chores or tell him off. He’d call for reinforcements. He wasn’t sure which Blishwick would be called in to handle the situation, but Ollie could at least make some educated guesses. It wouldn’t be one of the cousins his age, if only because Lulu was somewhat flighty, and Jimmie had absolutely no bedside manner. And it probably wouldn’t be one of his uncles, who likely weren’t in London anyway (their holidays were always spent abroad or working, no in-between at all).

Until then, he’d enjoy every last moment of quiet. Oliver was sprawled out on the couch, nose in his textbook and reading glasses perched precariously on his nose (he despised those glasses, but he’d surpassed his ability to squint today). Even so, the words were beginning to blur slightly on the page and he crinkled his forehead as he tried to blink away the exhaustion. Not that he found potions to be a particularly fascinating subject, but it wasn’t one of his best. He excelled in the theory classes, where he could memorize and then spout off a whole bunch of information. The practical exams were going to kill him if he didn’t focus. There was a knock at the door, but Oliver ignored it and eventually the problem solved itself when someone opened it anyway. “Mum’s at work and Dad’s out,” he said distractedly, figuring he could guess and address whatever they wanted so they’d go away faster and he could keep reading.

oberon anteros blishwick

[oberon anteros blishwick]

breathe a little deeper

should you need to come undone

April 21, 2029
Oliver Russell Blishwick

Oberon had not expected the call from his Uncle Oliver. Truth be told, they didn’t speak often. Not that Oberon was on bad terms with any of his family members on this side of the world. Well, one might argue Jimmie permanently placed most of her family on her bad side, but no family was perfect, right? But his younger cousin, also named Oliver, was a good kid. A few times Obie had discussed various topics with him as they both reached into their various wells of knowledge. Naturally, Obie was aware with his age and experience, he knew more than his baby cousin but never pushed the matter too far.

Oliver Sr had asked Oberon to drop by and check on his son. Apparently, he had holed himself up like a stubborn gnome in a garden as NEWT exams approached. Obie remembered those days and the stress of wanting to do well. Many opportunities relied on the results of those exams. So, as he happened to have a day off work coming up—Obie used that day to find his cousin. Knocking, he awaited someone to open it. But nobody arrived. Instead, he only heard a loud voice from inside.

Well, they were off to a good start, weren’t they? Oliver Sr had warned his son might not willingly answer the door. So, Oberon at least had permission to let himself in, which he did easily. With a few large strides, Oberon found Oliver with a very large book on the couch. ”That’s alright, I’m not here for them.” A smile crept onto his face as he announced himself.

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[Oliver Russell Blishwick]

Oliver was vaguely aware that someone had opened the door, but he didn’t look up to confirm. Nobody would be giving him good marks at security troll school, that was for sure – someone could’ve come to rob them blind, and Ollie wouldn’t care as long as they didn’t disrupt his reading. Instead, he crinkled his forehead and tried to memorize the ingredients list for this potion. The professor had warned them it was likely to come up on the exam and if he didn’t have to glance at the list again then he could skip it and go straight to brewing…but the voice that answered him was familiar and also didn’t go away like he'd just sort of hoped would happen. Ollie frowned a little and glanced up, taking the first opportunity to swipe his glasses off and look at Oberon.

“Oh,” Ollie said, a little put-off that he hadn’t guessed it on the first try. He squinted at Oberon suspiciously – because his older distant cousin was by far one of the coolest members of the Blishwick clan and Oliver couldn’t figure why he was here. Oliver did like Oberon a lot more than most of the extended family. He’d even thought about joining the Ministry for a while after graduation, because Oberon barely talked about his work but that made the whole mystery exciting and he’d said a few times that Unspeakables had to be persistent, curious, and willing to unravel mysteries (which Ollie fancied he could excel at). But he’d quickly reconsidered, because did Oliver really want to purposefully put himself in a sort of competition where he’d be constantly compared to the older Blishwick?

He cautiously lowered his book a fraction and stared hard at Oberon like he could read his mind. “What did Dad borrow from you?” he finally asked, taking his second guess as to why Oberon was here. His dad was a little absentminded and Ollie had grown up having his keys or glasses or wallet ready for whenever his dad finally started to look around for them. But this wasn’t unfixable. A quick Accio spell, and Oberon could be on his way. Then Ollie could finish the chapter, pass his exams, and avoid diving into the unspeakably horrific black abyss where formerly gifted children who burnt out went to die.

oberon anteros blishwick

[oberon anteros blishwick]

breathe a little deeper

should you need to come undone

April 21, 2029
Oliver Russell Blishwick

Finally, Oberon’s entrance seemed to catch the attention of his younger cousin. A quizzical look in the boy’s eye but one Obie was familiar with. All of his younger distant cousins were growing up and going off into the world as young adults. Wasn’t it only yesterday Obie chased them around as toddlers or kids as he told them fake stories of his work in the scary Department of Mysteries or with Area 51 ½? At least the boy lowered his Potions book. For a moment, Obie felt a sense of déjà vu. He probably had that same potions book somewhere at his parent's house.

”Nothing.” He responded brightly. That was a good guess and a reasonable one. Oliver’s father had a tendency to become a bit forgetful, but nothing that couldn’t be handled with a bit of a gentle reminder. Sometimes, it was a fun excuse to come and visit the family. ”I did have a question for you, actually.” Taking a few steps forward, Obie leaned in the doorframe with his arms loosely crossed. ”When was the last time you had a proper meal?” If Obie’s memory was correct, those weeks before NEWTs were filled with hastily eaten breakfasts, skipped lunches, and multiple bags of Doritos for dinner along with whatever one could get from the kitchens late at night.

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[Oliver Russell Blishwick]

Ollie let the Potions book rest on his lap but didn’t completely close it yet. He left it half-up like some kind of shield, just in case Oberon decided to start using his eerily spot-on ability to guess things about you. It made Oliver wonder if he really was a Legilimens, even though he’d said he wasn’t in the past, because nobody was just that good. He tossed his reading glasses carelessly onto the couch, though. As far as he was concerned, they could disappear into the extra dimension that must be accessible via the crack between cushions, since little things always seemed to disappear through there. A pocket Sneakoscope, loose knuts, even a right sock from the one time his mum had asked him to fold the laundry (and then didn’t buy his story that a niffler must’ve snuck in and stolen random socks because he swore they’d been there a moment ago). His eyes drifted down to the thick brick of text he hadn’t finished scanning, but they shot back up as Oberon once again shot down his guess for why he was here.

And his knuckles whitened as he gripped the Potions book tightly and narrowed his eyes suspiciously towards his older cousin. “How do you define a proper meal?” he asked quizzically. Because fine, Obie might be right but Oliver wasn’t going to just give him that victory. He knew the living room scene would incriminate him, though. There was an empty bag of Chocolate Cauldrons on the floor by the couch (his mum would kill him if she saw that), and Chocolate Frog cards scattered everywhere. Not to mention the endless pile of empty energy drink cans in the kitchen, if Oberon decided to take his investigation one step further. “I’m doing great,” Ollie said defensively, already predicting the next thing he might hear. Besides, the dark bags under his eyes didn’t tell the whole story. “I’ve just got three more chapters of this and my Transfiguration essay for today. It’s all in the spreadsheet.” Ollie pointed over at the dining room table, where he’d meticulously copied out his study schedule in different colored ink. He didn’t use a magicked computer, since that way he could take it all with him to class and look over his planner while the professors droned on.

oberon anteros blishwick

[oberon anteros blishwick]

breathe a little deeper

should you need to come undone

April 21, 2029
Oliver Russell Blishwick

Oberon watched Ollie fidget at his question. There was something to be gained from so many years working in the Department of Mysteries and simply observing. Not to mention, his best friend was a highly suspicious Auror and leader of all of them. Between the pair, surely nobody could get anything past them, right? Well, unless that was a charming smile and pretty eyes. Nobody was perfect. But in this case, the suspect today was one of Obie’s baby cousins. And one walking down a path Obie remembered with mixed emotions. Did anyone ever really get over the stress of NEWTs and studying?

”Something other than chocolate?” Oberon guessed. Aside from a cavity, a sugar high would not help him study further. Glancing at wherever Ollie pointed, Oberon casually walked over to the dining table. Arms crossed loosely. Peering over, his eyes crossed, attempting to decipher this monstrous attempt at control. ”Oh my, this is worse than I thought…” He mumbled. Thinking for a moment, Oberon decided it was desperate times. ”Alright, I’ll hold on to this for now.” Rolling up the spreadsheet, Oberon stuck it in an inside pocket that magically held the giant paper roll. ”I’ve decided you need a break.”

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[Oliver Russell Blishwick]

“Yes I did,” Oliver said automatically in response to Obie's pointed question, eager to prove that he had in fact eaten something besides chocolate today. It was a hollow victory though, since the only other food he’d actually eaten was half a pack of Jelly Slugs that he'd been snacking on while reading his textbook. But he was determined, one thousand percent devoted to his new mission, to ensure that Oberon never learned the truth. Not only because Oliver liked winning arguments, of course, no matter how petty the point. No, Oberon might keep secrets for a living, but his older cousin hadn’t signed a contract with him to keep those secrets from his mum. Ollie couldn’t afford the high cost that would come with her discovering how he ate while he was alone. He wanted everybody to see that he could be a Cool Mature Adult, and that meant hiding his most shameful secrets. Oliver finally set the book aside so it casually rested over the remaining Jelly Slugs, which were super incriminating and had been half-nestled in the couch cushions.

His mouth dropped at the sheer audacity of Oberon pocketing his spreadsheets like they weren’t holy artifacts. “Oi! You can’t pinch those!” He jumped up from the couch in outrage as if he had some ability to stop the darkest timeline from unfolding right in front of him. Oliver's tone sounded a bit whinier than he would’ve liked, so he cleared his throat and tried again. Deep in the negotiation phase to get them back at all costs. “I need my spreadsheets…I won’t get good marks without them,” he said in an appeasing tone, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. He was entering this negotiation at a severe disadvantage, but he eyed Oberon warily and tried to see how he could convince his cousin to return to the Ministry’s basement and leave him to his intense study regimen. “I’ll schedule a break after I finish Potions. Stretches and everything!” he promised, lying through his teeth as he kept his eyes focused on Oberon’s pocket. He might've had generally positive emotions towards his older cousin, but in this moment? He was enemy number two (number one was always his parents, obviously).

oberon anteros blishwick