By Emelinee

"Bring your own beverage"

Oliver Wood has changed. He is no longer the sweet innocent Scottie that we all grew to love. Here, Oliver has faced more than one hardships. Watch him as he struggles loosing battles with his mother, his best mate and the love of his life. Will anyone be able to help him? Warning for use of drugs, mild swearing and adult content. No sexual activity.

Disclaimer: The idea of the main characters parents were a creation of Hovizi of Oliver Wood, Katie Bell and all other Harry Potter characters and plots belong to J.K. Rowling and unfortunately… not me.

A/N: This is just an idea that popped into my head. Oliver Wood is a little bit hard core. Don't worry, it'll get better. This is just the first chapter that introduces the character, Oliver, and what he's gone through and you should have no idea as to what will happen in this story. Oh, P.S., sorry, I'm going through a little System of a Down streak here so bear with me. ;) Please enjoy! R & R

This story is a little hard to deal with in the beginning. It is KBOW fo' SHOW and I would please ask that you keep reading and review because it does get better. It just starts out slow. Thank you for understanding!

Honestly, for all you starting out, I encourage you to KEEP READING! Who's good at first chapters anyway? Honestly, just ask my reviewers! They love me! Just do it -- go ahead and skip to chapter 23! I dare you! Haha. Please! Thanks!

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I swore loudly as I squinted open my hazel eyes to be greeted by the dreaded sunlight. Regretfully, I noticed that I had overslept and that I needed to hurry. Throwing the sheets back, I clambered out of my bed with nothing except for my worn boxers on and left for the kitchen. Preparing the usual meal, I set up a tray and grab a few more necessary items and headed for the large room in the back.

Well, it might have been just about the smaller room ever to exist, but it was the biggest room in this two bedrooms flat on the fourth floor in Muggle London. In that room lay my mother Adeline who had been laying there for almost the past twelve years.

One must understand that when I had turned five, Death Eaters attacked my home, killed my father and tortured my dear mother until she had become insane. Of course, we were on financial aid then and we had no money to put her in the hospital. My three summer jobs and job that I kept at Hogwarts were still not enough to pay for my mother and the house especially while I was away. A nanny kept her while I was gone, though she forced me to leave for school, and was the best thing that came to this family.

I was greeted by nothing except for her dreamy expression and glazed over, glassy brown eyes. My heart was saddened for a moment before I remembered that this wasn't any different than the day before and that I had to just get used it; but getting used to it is something that you never get used to.

"Sit up, mum," I commanded quietly, sliding my hand under her head and propping up her torso even more. She never slept. Well, at least I think she didn't. I used to sit up and wait beside her bed in worry because she would never lay her head down. She simply sat there the whole time. We had to move her ourselves and roll her in a wheelchair when times were necessary.

I sighed as I spoon fed my mother once again the creamy oatmeal that she once told me that she hated. Unfortunately, this was the only thing that we could afford. I feel as if she had grown to enjoy oatmeal because it was my favorite breakfast item.

Once she had finished all of her breakfast, I cleaned her up, opened the shades and made her comfortable. I left the room then to clean up the dishes and the rest of the house that I had neglected. The house contains absolutely nothing of personal value. Our living room and kitchen were the same room. There was a worn out, beat, green striped couch, a squashy pink armchair that had a few broken springs, a small wooden coffee table and a few other miscellaneous items surrounding a completely charcoal-black fireplace. The kitchen was possessed with horribly light green tile—the fake kind—and some sort of brown countertops. The oven worked only on the eleventh try and we hadn't even bothered with keeping a fridge, seeing as it took up too much electrical. The cupboard and rats were all that looked normal in this god-forbidden hellhole. Our doorbell sounded much like a dead whale and I wondered whether the old grandfather clock that I had come across in an alley a few months back was going to explode anytime soon. I shouldn't get my hopes up.

Nonetheless, it was my home. I don't know whether mum liked what I had done with the place or what. Nothing had been refurbished, to her disappointment, and a few of her favorite items had been confiscated.

Oh yes, how could I forget, the bird droppings on the floor were amazing accents. I shook my head as our skinny tabby cat, Dipstick, scurried across the sickening brown carpet and slid up to his miniature food bowl to eat. Dipstick sure could be a dipstick sometimes. My mum let me name him when I was five.

Suddenly, a loud, ominous groan echoed throughout the small flat and I was worried that I had suddenly Apparated to a large sandy beach and behind me was the sound of a near-death whale. I chuckled softly to myself and shuffled over to the brown wooden door.

To my delight, I had opened the door to one of my closest friends that lived in the Muggle world. His name was Dreyus and he lived in the flat beside mine. He, like me, just turned seventeen and lived with a single mother who often enjoyed smoking, becoming severely drunk and then proceeding to bring home different types of the male species. Let's just say that Dreyus enjoyed my dingy dump over his. Every once in a while, Dreyus and I left both our mothers with their caretakers and headed off to the local club down the street to go clubbing. I had made up fake I.D. (I had done it through the use of magic but Dreyus was not aware of that) and we always ended up completely wasted, stoned and snogging some random girl in the bathroom. These occurrences were rare. We only did them every night, or so.

"Hey Drey," I greeted, grabbing the milk carton and downing the small amount that was left. I grabbed an apple, shoved my feet into a pair of my old checkerboard vans, collected my wallet and keys, and we left the flat.

"Anything new?" his rough, worn voice came through, breaking the silence.

"Nah, you know, the usual," I responded as my rich Scottish accent perked up. We took a left around one of the boring street corners.

"Any girls?" he asked, grinning, knowing what the answer would be.

I grinned back, kicking a small rock onto the dark paved road, "What do you think?"

"Just seeing," he said, shrugging, shoving his hands into his worn pockets. "You never know."

We took a quick stop in the local corner liquor store and Dreyus bought us a six back of Buds and made our way down to the park.

"I met a girl," he said delightfully. I actually laughed, doubting whether he would actually know the poor girl's name. I raised a thick Scottish eyebrow at him as he continued. "Her name is Daisy. She's a doll."

A hiss of breath came out between my teeth. I remembered Daisy. Trust me, no matter how wasted and stoned I become some nights, I will always remember the littlest details and almost everything that we had done that night. Daisy was a cute girl. She had been into me when we met her. It had been Daisy and her taller friend Tasha who was into football and such. Daisy was such a small town girl with nothing but chickens and love at first site. Oh, Daisy was nice.

My faded jeans dragged on the cement, trailing my vans as we walked through the park, a bud in our hands. My pants, luckily, still fit, but had decided to start sagging more than necessary. In other words, my belt wasn't really working and my boxers were the main item now.

I had on my favorite black T-shirt that had System of a Down written on it. Dreyus had gotten it for me because they were his favorite band. The shirt had shrunk, or my muscles had grown, either one, so now the two tattoos, one of my stomach and the other on my triceps, were now clearly visible. They were almost identical to Dreyus'. We hadn't meant to copy each other. It just happened that way.

On the front of my right pelvis was a rather graphic image of skull that was pierced with a sword and a snake slithered around it all. It had been Dreyus' idea and I liked it. On my right triceps there lay a coiled up snake, like a rattlesnake, and a long sword going straight through it. He hadn't understood why I got it, but he thought it was sweet anyway.

Dreyus was a little bit more hardcore than I was. Sure, I had gone to my share of heavy metal concerts where stoners were everywhere and knives go flying. We usually end up seeing two or three guys on speed when we are there, if we're lucky. Dreyus had dyed his wavy, beach blonde hair black two years ago and has about three piercings on his ears. I forcefully told him not to get any other body part done. Apparently, he had ignored me there, but I still don't know for sure. He pretty much wears the same clothes that I wear, or visa versa. Most girls go after him because of his chiseled features and deep blue eyes. He has gone around the block a few times, that's for sure.

So this is usually what my free time in the summer looked like. Just my best mate Dreyus and me, drinking a Bud and hanging out in the park. I seldom get time off with my mate, seeing as we both are working three jobs and have to tend to our own mothers. But I always happen to squeeze in time for him.

Once our Buds were clean and noon was closer then it had been an hour ago, I decided that it was time to get ready for work. We both then headed back to what we call home and split ways at our side-by-side doors. Frowning, I turned to him as we both put the key in the door.

"Uh, Drey?" I asked, stopping him short of entering his flat. "Why did you ring the doorbell?"

He shrugged and we part our ways, not bothering to think about anything at all. Slowly, I slipped off my vans and headed straight for the bathroom, conveniently forgetting that the door had been unlocked when I arrived here.

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Please review! I need critique. Anyone want to BETA? I'm not so good at BETAing my own work. Thank you so much!

Emelie