A/N: I'm Ba-acckkkk! Well, kind of. I'm trying to get in touch with my inner author once again, so I've been going through my previous fan fictions to gain some insight and inspiration, and I have found it! So this one is written as a bit of a one-shot prequel to 'Yes, Hermione'.

I know, I know, I've got plenty of unfinished works that need tending to, (including Yes, Hermione) but that may have to wait, until I can really get my creative juices flowing.

And here we go again. Enjoy, and please review! xx

Ginny Weasley couldn't help but be baffled. Who on earth was that? She wondered, watching from the second story window of the Burrow. Who was the handsome man on Luna Lovegood's arm? "Hermione!" She hissed, beckoning her to stand at the window and participate in the sight-seeing.

"What? What's going on, Ginny?" Hermione asked, taking her place at Ginny's side. "Oh, who is that?"

They were both watching as Luna trudged her way up the hill to The Burrow, dressed in an odd looking yellow gown, which made her look rather like a giant yellow bird. Luna, however was not alone. He was quite tall, very broad across the shoulders and had slicked back brown hair. From what Hermione and Ginny could tell, he was in fact, very handsome… with exception of the yellow suit, which was obviously tailored to match Luna's oddity of a dress.

As Luna got closer, both of them quickly disbanded from the window, not wanting to be caught spying. "I was wondering if she was going to bring a date." Ginny mused out loud, dropping her robe. "Hermione, help me with this darn dress, will you?" She asked, exasperated, as she stepped into the heavy white dress. "I can never manage to put it on by myself."

Hermione giggled a little. "You're not supposed to, Gin. It's your wedding dress, you're only going to wear it once – of course they're going to make it difficult." She said, positioning it correctly on her body from behind. She pulled the zip up abruptly, causing Ginny to flinch. "There! Oh! You look beautiful, Ginny!" She exclaimed with excitement, grabbing Ginny and twirling her around the room.

Ginny laughed, a grin adorning her face. "It'll be your turn soon!" She teased, steadying herself once more in front of the mirror.

Hermione sighed and plonked down onto the nearby bed. "I doubt it. I haven't been on a date in two years, Ginny." She reasoned. "Not since Ron and I broke it off. I'm just so- so…" She trailed off, looking down at her folded hands.

"So, what, Hermione?" Ginny asked, concerned, sitting down next to her friend and placing a hand on hers.

"So… undesirable." She cringed at the use of those words. She and most of her friends had been labelled as 'Undesirable' during the war, when they were being hunted by Voldemort himself.

Ginny scoffed, "You listen to me, Hermione Granger, you are not in any way an undesirable woman! You are beautiful and smart, and the right man, wizard or muggle will come along! You just have to be open to it, remember."

Hermione snorted and smiled. "You sound so much like your mother!" She teased, jumping up, and waving her wand at Ginny's long red hair. It began to twirl itself in all different directions, and Ginny watched it in the mirror with a grin. "Now, we'll do your hair and, hey presto! You'll be ready." Hermione smiled, concentrating on the task at hand.

"Presto? What or who on earth is 'Presto'?" Ginny was once more baffled.

Hermione laughed. "It's just a muggle term – never mind." She said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Oh, Ginny, Harry is going to DIE when he sees you!"

Harry Potter sat, nervously twiddling his thumbs in the kitchen as Ron paced in front of him. They both looked up as a familiar figure entered the kitchen in a blur of yellow. "Hello, Harry; hello Ronald." She said in her dream-like voice.

"Hey Luna," They both said in unison, their eyes darting to the person that trailed behind her shyly.

"Oh, hello." He said, coming to stand at Luna's side. "I'm Rolf – Rolf Scamander." He introduced himself, holding out a hand.

Both men stood abruptly, each in turn introducing themselves and shaking his hands. "Rolf is my date for the wedding." Luna said happily, glancing up at the handsome face. "He's really lovely." She said bluntly.

Harry smiled. "I'm sure he is, Luna, and I must say, you look… very nice today, Luna." Harry complimented.

"Thank you, Harry, as do you." She smiled. "We'll see you out there, I suppose," Luna began to lead Rolf out into the garden, but before she was out of ear shot, she turned to Harry; "Don't worry, Harry, it's good luck for it to rain on your wedding day." And with that said, she left a puzzled groom and best man behind.

"Wonder what she meant by that?" Harry pondered briefly.

"Dunno, mate," Ron said, "But I thought my suit was ugly. Did you see what that poor bloke was wearing?" He snickered, and Harry went silent as he stared out of the window. Sure enough, it was starting to rain.

Oliver Wood was thoroughly annoyed. His date, Gwen had not stopped complaining. "This stupid rain! Oh, Ollie, look at my hair! It's ruined! Why did I even agree to come to this stupid wedding?" She whined.

"Gwen, I'm sorry that your hair is ruined, but can yeh please, please, please, stop callin' this wedding stupid? These people are my good friends!" He replied, exasperated. He had just arrived as they were erecting a tent, and of course, Gwen had been left to find her own shelter as Oliver jumped in to help.

She huffed and pulled out a compact mirror, assessing the damage. She finally pulled out her wand, and with a wave, it was back to perfection. Oliver rolled his eyes and sat down in one of the rows of white chairs just as the music started. He watched with a smile as Harry straightened up nervously, and Ron cleared his throat, nodding to his brothers to open the doors and allow the bridal party through.

Out came a little girl with blonde hair – one of Bill and Fleur's, he guessed, followed by a little boy, whose hair kept changing colour. He wasn't sure who that one belonged to. The music got louder, and out stepped a gorgeous figure. She seemed so familiar with her long, curly brown hair and fair skin. She was pretty short, and very lean, but not too lean, and her silver dress complimented her perfectly. He just couldn't put his finger on it, but he definitely knew her somehow.

And finally, out stepped the bride and Oliver could feel his chest swell with pride as he watched Ginny, now a young woman, walk elegantly down the aisle in a beautifully hung wedding gown, a glowing smile planted on her face.

The ceremony was simple and to the point – Harry and Ginny weren't very into formalities. Although the happy couple was such a beautiful sight, Oliver couldn't help but stare at the brunette, brows furrowed with thought as he searched the dusty depths of his mind to figure out who she was. It finally came to him. Granger!

The little book worm – Potter's third friend. How she had changed, he thought. She was so… so elegant and, well, feminine, and just – WOW! He really couldn't believe it. That was when he decided he had to talk to her. It was an urge that not even the Great Oliver Wood, Superstar Quidditch player, could resist.

"Hello, Oliver." A dreamy voice said from next to him. The chairs had been placed around some round tables, which had been spaced out around the tent, leaving room for a dance floor in the middle.

He turned to find Luna Lovegood staring at him, dressed in… well, some kind of yellow thing, and someone he assumed to be her date. "Oh, hello Luna. How are you?" He asked, his eyes searching the background for any sign of Hermione.

"I'm wonderful. I just love weddings, don't you? Oh, and Hermione, doesn't she look beautiful. Of course, not as beautiful as Ginny." She said in a hushed tone. "I'm sure her parents are very proud." She smiled and wandered off, her date trailing behind.

Oliver shook his head. That girl was so very strange. Mr and Mrs Weasley had been killed a little over a year ago, by one of the rogue death eaters they were trying to round up. But of course, he had heard never to doubt the Lovegood girl.

He saw Gwen briefly, swooning over Ron, and rolled his eyes at the tall blonde once more. No doubt she had noticed his short attention span towards her, and was trying to make him jealous. He quickly found Charlie Weasley, standing by the champagne.

"Ah, Wood!" He said, clapping Oliver on the back. "There you are. I can't believe you brought your bimbo with you." He chuckled. "Of course, you had to; she might run off with the next rich man she finds." Charlie laughed at his own joke, and Oliver gave him a light punch to the chest.

"Very funny, Weasley. You're a real comedian." He said sarcastically, and then lowered his voice. "Oi, question; is that Hermione Granger?" He said pointing at the mop of brown hair in a silver dress.

Charlie chuckled again, "Sure is, Wood. What's it to you?" He gave Oliver a devilish look that made him nervous. "She's definitely changed, hasn't she?"

"Aye, that she has…" He trailed off as Charlie staggered away; off to make sure the twins weren't trying anything stupid.

Hermione giggled as Ron blushed under the showers of compliments he was receiving for his hair cut. The very same hair cut Hermione had given him hours earlier, which he had not stopped complaining about. "I told you so, Ron." She said and he shot her a withering look.

Just as she sipped at her glass of champagne, Ginny grabbed her by the arm. "Hermione!" She said in a hushed, yet excited voice. "Someone can't stop staring at you." She said, pointing her finger to a figure standing by the champagne stand. "Go! Talk to him!"

Hermione blushed as Ginny gave her a shove. It was true, the man was staring at her, and now that she saw him, she was wondering why. He was very good looking; dark brown eyes, tall in stature, broad in the shoulders, and very fit. She suddenly got hot and flustered. But then, there was something familiar about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Granger? Hermione Granger?" He sounded surprised as she reached him. "Is that you?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I – well, yes… But I'm sorry, I'm not who you –" He cut her off.

"It's Oliver, Oliver Wood." Ah, there it was. Wood. The Quidditch star. That was how she knew him. "You look – wow, you look fantastic!" He exclaimed, gesturing to her.

"Oh," She giggled, "Thank you." She smiled and took a nice long gulp of her champagne, hoping to calm her nerves. There was a short announcement for the Bride and Groom to take to the dance floor for their first married dance. Hermione smiled to herself – it would be entertaining to see if Harry had actually learnt anything from his dancing lessons.

To her surprise he had, and he was dancing wonderfully, twirling Ginny around and making her laugh. There was a pang of jealousy that hit her – a yearning to have someone to make her feel the way she could only imagine Ginny was feeling.

Oliver cleared his throat, bringing Hermione out of her stupor. "Err," He began awkwardly. "Would you like ta dance? They've called everyone else, so I figure…"

"I don't see why not." She smiled and took his hand awkwardly and he led her to the dance floor. Gingerly, Oliver placed his hand on her hip, and took the other in his own, making sure to keep a bit of distance between them.

"So, uh, what have you been up to these days? I've heard that you're writing for the Daily Prophet?" He asked. Small talk, yes, small talk was good.

Hermione grinned. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Wood?"

He snorted abruptly. "Well if I had, it wouldn't have taken me forever to figure out why I recognised you, I'm sure." He said smoothly. "But I'll take that as a yes to working for the Daily Prophet." He said, grinning down at her as they moved together to the music.

Hermione was about to say something, when someone tapped her on the shoulder lightly. "Ahem," A tall, leggy blonde woman stood string between her and Oliver. "May I cut in?" She asked innocently.

"Oh, yes…" She let go of Wood quickly. "I'm Hermione Granger… And you are?" She stuck out her hand.

The blonde woman looked at her hand with a scowl, which turned into a fake smile. "Oh, of course, I'm Ollie's girlfriend," She gestured to Oliver. "Gwen Portly…" She said, shaking Hermione's hand very quickly.

"Oh, of course you are," Hermione smiled through her teeth. Of course Oliver Wood had a girlfriend. She shot him a glare and he looked confused.

"I do love your dress, it is beautiful." This compliment seemed genuine, coming from a world famous model.

"Thank you, the Bride herself designed and made it. It is really a talent." She said, smoothing out the fabric. "Well, if you'll excuse me." She said politely inclining her head towards the two. "Oliver, it was lovely to see you again." Her words dripped with sarcasm.

What was she thinking, flirting with a man like that? She was seething. More so at herself – for being an absolute idiot… he did have a reputation of being a player, after all. What on earth was she thinking?

But wait, he was flirting, too! What an absolutely, big headed, moronic JERK! Flirting with her when he had a girlfriend! What a horrid –

"Hermione? Are you okay?"

The voice pulled her out of her rage, and she hadn't realised she'd been standing in the corner, frowning to herself. She must have looked like a lunatic. "Oh, Charlie, sorry, didn't realise you were there." She said breathlessly. "I'm fine." She smiled.

Charlie grinned, "Sure you are. But, I believe now is the perfect time for me to test out your dancing skills!" He said, and she barely had a chance to protest before he pulled her onto the dance floor.

She grinned as Charlie threw her around the floor, the world spinning and her laughter getting out of control. She finally came to a halt when the music slowed once more. "Oh my goodness, my head is spinning, Charlie!" She said, pushing her hair back into place.

"It's probably the champagne, Hermione, love." He joked. "Or could it be the handsome chap you were dancing with earlier?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively and winked.

She flushed in anger. "Oliver Wood has a girlfriend. And he's a player. Typical Quidditch star, fooling women into all sorts of things. I want nothing to do with it." She stated matter-of-factly.

Charlie grinned down at her devilishly. "I never said you did." He chuckled and spun her around slowly, drawing her back into him. "But you know, he really isn't like that, and Gwen isn't his girlfriend. She hasn't got that far."

"Have you and Ginny been scheming or something?" Her cheeks were a furious shade of pink, and Charlie had to laugh. "Because she seems hell-bent on fixing me up with just about anyone!" She exclaimed.

"Maybe I have, and maybe I haven't." He said, simply. "But for now, I think I need a break from the dancing." He said, bowing as he exited the dance floor.

She sat down in a huff, sipping at yet another glass of champagne, she let out a long breath, slumping back into her chair. She closed her eyes briefly, only to open them to a very alarming sight: Fred and George, sitting right next to her.

"Hello there, Granger." Fred grinned.

"Yes, 'allo there, Granger." George leant in closer. "We," He pointed between himself and George. "Have a proposition for you." An evil grin adorned both of their faces.

"Oh?" She queried. "And what would that be?"

They looked at each other and in an instant, both had grabbed her by an arm, and she was being marched away. They moved outside of the tent and sat her down on a wet bench. The rain had disappeared, but the bench was still very much wet. She yelped in shock, and quickly cast a drying spell, glaring at the twins.

"Well?" She prompted sharply.

"Oh, alright. If you must know…" George joked.

Before she could protest that they were the ones who wanted her involved, Fred relayed their plan. "We want to turn everyone green!" He announced.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Surely you don't need my help to do it, do you?"

"Well," Fred said, looking down bashfully. "Charlie and Bill are watching us like hawks. We need a distraction…"

"Besides," George added, "You clearly need something to distract you from, well… Wood's wood." They laughed and high fived.

"Excuse me!" She said. "I am not –"

"Never mind that now, Granger." Fred hushed. "Drink up, you're going to make a speech."

"You do realise that your sister will not be happy with this, don't you?" She said, eyeing them both for any form of morals. Clearly they had none. As soon as she'd downed two more glasses of champagne, and was feeling rather light headed, she was tapping her glass, smack bang in the middle of the room.

"Excuse me! Everyone!" She shouted. When the majority ignored her she shouted, "OI! EVERYONE SHUSH!" She had learnt that from Ginny, who was currently watching, amused, from her seat. "I would like…" She hiccupped, "… to make a speech!" She promptly held her wand to her throat.

"Ginny, first of all, you look marvellous. And second of all, as do I!" She exclaimed and laughter filled the tent. "Harry, you have been one of my best friends for many, many, many, long years – I adore you like a brother, and I am so, so, so happy that you pair have finally decided to tie the knot!" She said with another hiccup. Harry was grinning at her.

"You are so," Hiccup! "Wonderfully perfect for one another, that I –" She began to choke up. "That I can only hope to find myself what you two have, one day. And it may not be soon," Her eyes wandered the crowd, searching for the twins, wising they would hurry up, as she was running out of words. "But when it happens, I fully expect you pair to get up here and make a fool out of yourselves, exactly as I am on my 'special day'." She said the last part with sarcasm, and everyone laughed. "So a toast! To Ginny and Harry Potter; may your babies be very cute!" She giggled as everyone in the tent toasted with a laugh.

And finally, before she had to say more, she saw Fred and George, hidden behind the enormous tower of a cake – levitating what looked to be water balloons. That was her queue, and with that, she headed for the exit, and ran smack-bang into Oliver Wood. "Quickly! Outside!" She said, grabbing his arm and dragging him with her. No sooner had they made it out, there was a loud chorus of POP noises from inside the tent, followed by some screams and exclamations of 'EW', which was of course followed by Ginny's howl of rage.

"FRED! GEORGE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Hermione kept running, her laughter spilling out of her, until she turned back to see she was still holding onto Oliver, and – CRASH! She fell into the grass, pulling one very confused Oliver with her.

They both groaned and rolled onto their sides, coming face-face with each other. Oliver could feel her breath on his face as she stared at him, oddly amused. "What's so funny, Granger? You've been acting odd all night." He stated.

She laughed. "Me? Acting odd? Ha! What a laugh that is." She retorted. "You couldn't even recognise me, let alone know what my behaviour is like." She said snottily, sitting up quickly. That was a bad idea. Her head began to spin. She placed a hand over her eyes. "Why is everything spinning?" She groaned, lying back down on her back.

Oliver laughed. "That's called alcohol, Granger. Don't tell me you've not been drunk before!" He exclaimed and she blindly whacked him on the chest. "Ouch!" He said, although it didn't hurt at all. Granger couldn't hurt a fly… well, unless that fly was a death eater or if that fly was attacking the house elves.

"Shut it, Wood." She retorted. "Of course I have been. What do you think I'm some kind of prude?" Who was she kidding? Of course he did. But what did he know? What right does he have to pass judgment on her? He only knew her from school! And of course the great battle. But that didn't matter. She wasn't that person anymore! Well, most of the time, anyway.

"I didn't mean to insinuate that, Granger." He sighed loudly. "I just – I've never seen you like this before, is all." She was silent. "But I do have to admit, you look magnificent tonight." He said smoothly.

"Listen, if you think your smooth talking and – and good looks are going to word on me, Oliver Wood, you have another thing coming. I am not a silly little girl, who you can just – just chat up, when your girlfriend is in that tent, no doubt turning green!"

"Turning Green - ?" He shook his head, he didn't want to know – he didn't really care. "And hey! She isn't my girlfriend. She's just a friend." He retorted.

Hermione snorted. "Oh please, she's sex on legs, attached to your arm, introducing herself as your girlfriend, what else could she be?"

"I don't know. I just don't see it going anywhere with her. She's superficial, she's needy." She's not you, he wanted to add. "I really don't think we're suited to each other. I just brought her with me to impress people. I didn't think I'd be so… furiously attracted to you." He blurted it out before he could stop himself.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked snappily. "Am I not worth being attracted to?"

"Well, to be honest, you've done nothing but be rude and throw my compliments back into my face, so no." They both rose from the ground to stare at each other. "You have it in your head that I'm nothing but a playboy who's going to use you. So maybe you're NOT worth being furiously attracted to!" He ranted at her.

"How dare you –" As she began her own tirade of words, he cut her off, his lips clashing into hers with such an impact, it drove her backwards and she clutched onto him for dear life. A fire ignited in her chest and she found herself wanting more as he pulled away reluctantly.

"Hermione," He whispered huskily, his hands still on her face, his eyes locked with hers. "I'm sorry." He suddenly said, backing away from her. "I don't know what came over me. I just –"

Damn this champagne! She thought to herself, looking at him, her chest heaving. "Oliver, just shut up and do that again." She said taking a step closer. She launched at him, her lips meeting his once more, his hands sliding to her hips, and with his strength, he lifted her off the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a pop they were gone.

And in the morning, so was she.