A/N This is my first story ever that's not a Dramione. I've written a couple that I never posted, but I've decided to post this one. I'm sorry that it's so short, but this is all I could type up and decided that it would do as an entrance into the story. I will continue with "Time just Doesn't Matter," and hopefully try to do, "Love's got nothing to do with it." Thank you all for being so patient. Love x

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PROLOGUE

The last of the sun's rays disappeared from view, coating the grounds in darkness. The wind picked up, leaves and dust fluttering around, dropping on the grass to give it an even dirtier look. However, the blood on the floor seemed to do that already. Hermione sighed quietly, shifting her gaze on the Black Lake towards the mountain. It had been two months since the war had ended, exactly two months. The date for today was July 8, 1998. She worried her lip, her fingers wrapping the jacket tighter around her waist. It felt terrible, knowing that where she stood, bodies had littered the floor. There were teenagers, adults who would never see the break of day again and she, Hermione Jean Granger, would. She would see the upcoming Puddlemere United match against Bulgaria. She would see Hogwarts rebuilt and she would see everyone heal. Most importantly, however, she would see the man standing behind her after she turned around.

Hermione froze, looking at the figure, her hand moving to her wand immediately. His hands shot up in surrender and Oliver Wood moved out of the darkness and into the moonlight, his chestnut hair glinting softly. Hermione's hand did not waver as she lifted the wand, pointing it at his chest.

"The last words you spoke to me," she muttered, "…before you entered the war."

Oliver's hazel eyes searched her face as he realized what she was doing. "The las' time I checked, Lassie, ye and I didnae speak since yer fifth year. When we met in Flourish an' Bott's." He noted her gaze softening and smiled slightly. "The las' time we were in contact, was when I sent ye a letter durin' Christmas. Ye didnae reply. But we didnae see each other until two months ago. In the Great Hall."

"Oliver." His name came out in a breathy whisper as she dropped her wand back into her back pocket and ran to him, her arms wrapping around his middle to give him a hug. His own strong arms hugged her, but to her surprise, gently. "I'm sorry I didn't reply to you. I couldn't. It- it was too dan-"

His shook his head, making a dishing noise. "It's quite alrigh', lassy. I understand. I'm jest so glad ye all are alrigh'."

Hermione nodded, smiling, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "Oliver….Fred, he- and- and Tonks. They didn't…" She willed herself to move the lump from her throat and his eyes looked at her sadly.

"I know. George, he told me." His voice was sad, soft and Hermione thought she could sleep to just the sound of it. And it sounded heavenly. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in a really long time. "We're havin' a tribute at the game tomorrow. Fer everyone who passed." Hermione's chocolate eyes sought his hazel ones and she nodded. She remembered Harry telling her that Oliver was best mates with Fred and George, the three always spending time together, coming up with new pranks. She frowned, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry about Fred." She whispered and she felt him stiffen. "And about your brother…" Yes, Oliver had a brother, Caeser Wood. Only one of the two brothers he had. Caeser had fought with them at the Battle. He had also lost his life two hours into it. She blinked back tears remembering that as she entered the Great Hall, Oliver lay over his brother's body, sobbing. His cries echoed around the building, intermingling with George's, Padma's, and Molly's. Hermione had wrapped her arms around him, allowing him to cry, but before they could speak, she had been taken away with Ron and Harry, heading to the stairs to wait until the raven-haired boy found the pensieve.

"Thank ye, lass." He muttered and they broke apart.

The two walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence. The first three floors and the quidditch pitch had already been finished and Hermione couldn't help but smile as everyone bustled around cheerfully. Her eyes swept the tables, but she didn't have to search long before her eyes found the family of gingers. Ginny waved her over and she smiled, moving over, Oliver trailing close behind. She sat beside the younger girl as the hazel-eyed boy moved to sit between George and Percy. As the food appeared on the table, the chatter got louder, people were happy. Hermione was happy. Things were finally looking up. They were nearly halfway done with the school, and the people were excited for the first quidditch game of the season.

As she took a spoonful of soup, her eyes moved up catching those of Oliver Wood's and he smiled, nodding his head at her. A flush spread over her cheeks and she looked back down at her soup. George gave her a knowing smirk, looking at his best mate. "So, Hermione…you're going to the match tomorrow, right?" Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice before shrugging.

"Oh, I don't know, George. You know quidditch isn't really my thing." She worried her lip and Ginny shook her head, looking at her.

"But you have to go! It's the first game of the season! Come on, Hermione." The ginger girl pleaded. Hermione looked to Harry for help, her eyes begging him to get her out of the situation. George spoke up, however, killing those chances.

"But, 'Mione….Ollie-kins, here, he's playing." George smiled, putting his arm around his friend. "And I'm sure he'd appreciate a little support. Aren't I right, Ollie?" He nudged him in the ribs, an act Hermione didn't catch as she was now looking into her soup, praying to drown in it.

Oliver jumped, shaking his head. His friend and himelf having a muted conversation. George nodded his head in the direction of the brunette and Oliver shook his head again, but the boy wouldn't have any of it and slapped the quidditch player on the back. Very hard. Oliver coughed, getting Hermione's attention. He looked to George. "Well, I mean…if Hermione doesnae like quidditch, I dinnae see the point in making 'er go." This made the girl smile and Ginny shook her head.

"Nonsense. The girl is going. Besides, what is she going to do all day? Read?" Hermione opened her mouth to protest when Ginny's hand shot up. "Hermione so help me, if you say that's what you were planning on doing, I will personally burn all your books."

"Actually, Ginevera, that wasn't what I was planning on doing at all." Hermione lied and she looked at Oliver, smiling. "I'd love to go to the game, Oliver, but I'm afraid I haven't got a ticket." She shrugged and George grinned.

"It's funny you mention it, Miss Hermione, because I happen to have an extra ticket!" He took the ticket out of his pocket and shook it in front of Hermione's face. "See? Now you can go! And better yet, you can sit beside me!" George lay his head on Ron's shoulder, smiling. "It'll be wonderful, won't it, Ronny?" The boy rolled his eyes playfully.

"Okay, off, off." He muttered, pushing George away. The elder Weasley grinned as Hermione took the ticket, worrying her lip.

"Okay, then. It looks like I'm going to the match tomorrow." Her eyes caught Oliver's and she nodded. "Thank you, Oliver."

"It's nothing, Lass." He assured her and stood, taking his plate. "If ye'll excuse mae, 've got some plannin' tae do fer tomorrow." He smiled and walked from the Hall, heading towards the temporary dorms.

Ginny whistled, looking after him, Hermione following suit. Their eyes on him until his bum disappeared around the corner. Ginny smirked, looking at her best mate and muttered, "Go Puddlemere," which caused Hermione to flush from ear to ear.

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A/N I don't want to make this long, so anyways, Caesar Wood's name is pronounced: Say-zer Wood. Just a bit of a Fun Fact for y'all. He is my own creation. Thank you all.