29/12/15: Currently in the process of re-editing this story; it has been a long time since i have read it i can't remember a thing! Fortunately i don't have any children, else this might be a reflection of the kind of mother i'd be. Not much will have changed, some grammatical and spelling errors; dialogue too. My creative flair has been lost to me over the years as I've studied science, so bear with me and hopefully this edit-around i'll have this finished. Look for SouredSweetie Remastered 2015 for the updated chapters; and for any further errors, my heartfelt apologies; it is again a reflection of my incompetence and neglect. As such, i wager Ms. Rowling herself would not warrant me with ownership of her characters and her world, thus i pledge now that i don't have it.

The Playboy's Pursuit

CHAPTER 1:

Shrews and Neanderthals

"Okay hold it! Stop shoving and get into a straight line… No Jayden, don't pull Cassandra's hair, come on… oh it wasn't that hard Cassandra! Good Heaven's…" Hermione sighed. She didn't think that taking four children under the age of ten on a Portkey would prove to be so difficult. All right, well she knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park, but come on…" For goodness sake! If you don't cut it out right now, you all won't get any more chocolate frogs for a treat! Instead I'll tell Nurse to give you boogie flavoured Bertie Botts Every Flavour beans!"

Hermione smirked in satisfaction; that would shut them up. Well, all but Charlie who occasionally liked a side treat from his nose. Last time she had threatened them she had stood by her word, much to the dismay the children, who had a rather unpleasant dirt and mushroom aftertaste. "That's better. Now remember what we must do; we all have to push the Portkey together so we don't get lost…"

Hermione was head Paediatrician- in Muggle terms- at St Mungo's ward for Diseased and Injured Children. She was taking her recovering patients to a Quidditch signing, as the Christmas Cup was just weeks away. This year, the National Quidditch organisation had organised one child from each children's ward to spend a whole week with their favourite team.

That child from her ward was Jayden, a cherub little blond eight-year-old, with epilepsy who fortunately had yet to have a fit in six months. He was a dedicated Puddlemere supporter just like his father, who had passed away from a seizure the previous year. Dom, Jayden's uncle, was going to accompany him should he suddenly relapse and to provide moral support. Considering how immoral he was, the irony was not lost on Hermione.

"Could you follow through with one of your threats for once? I'm still waiting for you to charm their underwear into permanent wedgie mode," Dom, the nurse that was accompanying her and about as buff as a wet dog, sighed and lowered his voice to add "you could me to practice, Merlin knows I don't mind things up the-"

He didn't finish, Hermione having swung her bag into his crutch. He had a rather farfetched and deliciously decadent sense of humour though highly inappropriate at time; but he adored her patients as much as she. Though there was that one time that he bought a Tasty Tangler from Fred and George's joke shop and gave it to the kids. He swore to Cher that he didn't know it would coil around the victims tongue and turn into superglue-chewing gum. As it happens neither did the twins; Hermione begged to differ.

"Okay kids are you all ready, Jenny take my hand…" Hermione warned, "It's going to get a little…bumpy."

As they all put their little hands on the Quaffle shaped Portkey, they were consumed in a whirlwind of colours as a powerful force pulled them towards the centre, before they landed at their destination: Pottersfield Quidditch stadium.

Pottersfield stadium was one of the largest in England and the most commonly played field in the league. Muggles saw it as an old Nuclear Generator emanating radiation emitting from its centre; but to the Wizards, it was a resort- well, if you were a man who liked Quidditch. Surrounded by green fields, caravan sites, lodgings and lakes, Pottersfield was well accustomed to tourism. Hundreds flocked to the site, which was packed with young and old alike partaking in activities full of wizard gadgetry and even more were on broomsticks zooming through the skies.

Good advertising for the game, thought Oliver Wood, as he stared around the field. This was the stadium that he made his debut as Keeper with Puddlemere United as a Rookie; but now, now he was Captain of the number one side in the competition and captain for Ireland's Quidditch team- but he was never one to gloat. Quidditch was his number one priority- it was his life, his love. The only thing he knew and perfected out of his 32 years was this game: and age wasn't going to set him back, heck neither was his bossy-family-orientated-possibly-Dementor mother, Oliver mused.

'I don't understand why you haven't found yourself a nice witch to settle down with! Heaven knows you're handsome enough', she always nagged, but he had to agree with her: as well being politely arrogant, age had been his friend- even the whole female population thought so. Standing at around 6'4 with his dishevelled dark hair and moody hazel eyes, Oliver was one of the main lookers in the game: or so he thought, he was an optimist.

"Not checking yourself out are you Wood? Merlin knows you've already got a big enough head," taunted his best friend the Beater for Puddlemere United: Bobby Rice, who came to stand with Oliver by the window. "See anything besides yourself, that's interesting?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, "As long as my head is in proportion to the rest of my body, I don't care what size it is." Bobby was almost like another Fred and George, a prankster: except he wouldn't dare blow a Troll-fart stink bomb in a teachers face. He'd rather throw it at them or hide it in their desk, waiting for it to burst, and then run away from the scene: unfortunately leaning behind a trail of evidence which always ensured his capture. "Depends on what you mean by 'interesting'."

"Hmm," Bobby pretended to think for a moment, and then answered before it hurt too much. "Well what would really be entertaining is seeing your face when your ex-girlfriend storms through the door, ready to hex you to oblivion or murder you: whichever way is more painful, and then seeing you attempt to escape from her demonic clutch."

Oliver face blanched, "That would not be as interesting as it would be terrifying. Especially if you were talking about Maggie…" but by the wickedly large Cheshire grin that crept up on Bobby's face, he knew he had spoken too soon.

"I heard that Oliver Wood," yelled Magdalene Carrie storming through the door, causing his teammates to turn his way and smirk. They knew how much of a (according to Oliver) 'Unrelenting Piss-arsed Skanking Titmouse and Recremental Termagant: 'Upstart' she was, though Oliver, bless him, had been far into his cups to relay an effective insult. However she was apart of the Puddlemere United board so they really couldn't do anything about it…well legally, that is.

"So I hear," winced Oliver, trying to get as far away as possible to her and as close to the next escape route as possible. "So Lilith what brings you out of your coffin?"

She pulled down her ever-shrinking skirt, that started to ride up her thigh and flicked her blonde hair back, "Ever think that when you get over your childish fetish for Quidditch, you'll become a comedian?"

"Now who's hil-" Oliver was interrupted.

"Who Oliver?" joked Bobby, who was trying to block the way from the door marked for Oliver's escape. "Darling' he'd be dead before he ever gives up the bloody game- it's his shameful life. Ouch," that earned him a painful nudge in the ribs by Oliver. "But me, you know Madge, I think I could make it. I've got the potential-"

Maggie sat herself down, much to the dismay of Joe and Grace (Puddlemere's Chaser and Seeker respectively). "Puh-lease Rice, don't fill up the room with more hot air: Wood's is enough. Now let's get down to business," she started.

Bobby stepped forward, hands raised as if to stop the action around him. "Okay you've got me, I confess. It was I who put the full-fat milk into your cappuccino last week. I guess that's why we can't see a few ribs from your anorexic figure."

She almost fell off her chair- had she done so the players behind her would have gotten a bony view of her bottom. Luckily for them, she composed herself. "Excuse me, FULL fat? Oh you had better be bullshitting, or I swear I'll sideline you all season! You know how much of a strict diet I'm on!"

"Oh please," Oliver piped in. He knew he wasn't getting out of there, no thanks to Bobby: better get her out ASAP, he pondered. "Like you've got anything but bone to lose."

He was right she was a stick. Thanks to the new pressure of being sickly thin, almost every witch was on some stupid Muggle diet.

"Whatever Wood. Listen, I've just got back from the Quidditch conference in Ireland, with the usual boring crap like: new jerseys, latest rookies, how much we were going to pay players and how we were going to keep them from entering the Southern leagues, blablah- silly really. Anyway a little birdie told me Viktor Krum wasn't going to be playing for Bulgaria in the World Cup! So really Wood, the door opens up for you to take the Number One Player of the Year! Now that competition flew away!"

Oliver stopped shoving Bobby out of the door. Krum wasn't playing? His number one nemesis: the rival with whom he tied with in competitions wasn't playing? Strange, he thought, Krum had at least another few years before he should retire, heck they were the same age! - Even though Krum had been playing years before Wood- and gloat on that the Bulgarian would. For him to miss such an event as the Word Cup was unusual… and unexpected to say the least. "So what are you getting at? I'm not good enough to get it when Krum's playing?"

"Well no," she retorted. "But it does give you the upper hand. Oh stop being difficult Wood; I thought you'd be slightly relieved! Now your only competition is England."

That's beside the point, he thought. Awards meant nothing to him and the fact that his main competition wasn't competing made it less of a priority. His awards were dust collectors sitting in his den, partly because the snitch would keep zooming about the room hitting Oliver in the head. He was constantly under pressure from fans, the club and mainly his conscience to keep striving for the top; when he'd rather just feint a couple of Starfish and Stick manoeuvres around the goals.

"Why assume the award would only be between Krum and I? I'm sure the new talents such as Geoff Mosley would be a likely vote."

"Oh please Wood, stop being modest," exclaimed Marcus James, the teams Chaser who until now was losing quite frightfully to Beater Terra Flews at exploding snap. Throwing the cards on the table, he looked out the window. "Looks like we're a bit late. Crowds growing, you reckon we should go out and mingle? Not that playing Exploding Snap was not worth the Portkey here and all."

"Oh yeah I forgot," said Maggie calmly filing her nails. "You should've been out there like ten minutes ago. Oops."

They groaned restricting themselves to hex her and headed down the stairs; Bobby and Oliver were the last to leave.

"Oh Wood, by the way, have you seen the latest gossip?" she whipped out her wand and conjured The Daily Prophet. "Skeeter's got a snap-shot with you and Parkinson getting cosy at Dra'mal's last night."

Wood took the paper out of Maggie's hand and cursed. Under the scandalous article about Wood's suitors and lover's was an image of Oliver with the Homowizds lead singer: Pansy Parkinson-Malfoy; in a corner booth at one of Diagon Alley's new hot-spots owned by her husband. Oliver, of course, was used to the press and gossip, most of which hid the truth behind the images. Pansy had been throwing herself at him the whole night with her husband's well wishes. She hadn't been successful, so in her final bid threw herself into his lap- just as the photo was taken, and he had calmly pushed her off: he'd had a lover waiting for him at a hotel.

Well, he was a man after all and he'd rather have sex with someone he knew than some pick up on the corner who he wouldn't remember in the morning: he had morals after all- loose of course, but there nonetheless.

"So what's your point Drusilla?" Oliver looked bored, "she was good, I was great, and that's that."

Bobby rolled his eyes, knowing how his friend had really spent the night.

"Fine," Maggie said, though her external composure would challenge the Snow Queen herself, internally she was fuming at his blasé attitude. "Just watch out Wood, one day your chauvinism will bite you on the arse. Now head outside and mingle like the club pays your Scottish arse 2,000,000 galleons a season to do."

"My pleasure and as you know, I give better than I get." Oliver threw down the paper and stalked away, Bobby hurrying up behind him.

"I don't know how, why or what possessed you to ever go out with that praying mantis look-alike."

"Neither do I mate," he sighed but at one stage, he did: before the bitch cheated on him with Krum. "Come on let's go." He spared a glance at Maggie, who blew a kiss his way.

The scene splayed before them was wild, chaotic and exciting. Hundreds hovered in the air and field duelling, pulling pranks and all round enjoying themselves at the carnival. Hermione wondered if it was the right choice to take four children to such an event: but they needed this, her optimistic side said.

She glanced down at them; faces full of excitement and eagerness, ready for the day's adventure. Jayden th was the most enticed, tugging Dom's hand with a strong force that belied his little frame, "Come on Uncle Dom, let's got over here, I wanna see the new brooms!"

"Man the kids got worms, what a devil! Lets knock them out and get smashed on some bubbly," Dom muttered when they had finally settled the kids down.

She smiled. "I'm sure their parents will appreciate it when they come to collect them."

They showed the kids around and eventually their parents came and took them away for a little while; all but Jayden's mother was there, she was in hospital, too ill with Pneumonia.

"Doc, could we please go over to the Quidditch signings? I wanna see Puddlemere, so they can sign my jersey. Puh-lease doc?" Jayden begged, putting on a fake pout. But slowly he frowned, as Hermione shook her head.

"Not yet, now stand still before I turn you into a rabbit and summon a Bald Eagle."

Hermione looked around, searching for a glimpse of shock-red hair around the Cannons camp. Ron would surely be there and a heavily pregnant Lavender too. Then she spotted them, and dragged the boys with her.

Ron saw her and smiled, hugging her with a little red-haired boy in his arms. She picked him up and messed up his hair, as Ron did to Jayden. "Hey mate, how's it going?" Ron had met most of the kids Hermione looked after at the hospital and was well acquainted with Jayden.

The child fixed his hair and stubbornly folded his arms, causing Dom to chuckle. ""Little Arse. He's just upset because we haven't visited Puddlemere. I haven't met Madonna yet and you don't see me whining…"

"I should be insulted. Here I am, all glorious and God-like and yet you still would rather see Puddlemere," Ron cried. "I haven't seen any of them out yet. But I'll tell you what, when you hear some girls shrieking, you'll know Wood's out. How are you going Mione?" he asked, interrupting the conversation she was having with Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley, I was just having an important conversation with your wife!" she scolded but smiled. "I'm fine, just working very long shifts, but I love it. My, you're looking rather…bulgy!"

Ron flexed his muscles causing a hit on the head from Lavender, "Serves you right Ron. Stop gloating about your body, when you've made mine balloon."

"Oh Lav, you dag," he smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "At least one of us has a good one."

"I'll pretend it didn't hear that Ron," Hermione mused and waved to some of Ron's teammates. Hermione mused and waved to some of Ron's teammates. "So anything specific happening today?"

"No not really," he answered. "A few signings, competitions and flying lessons. Later on tonight there'll probably be a few fireworks- wizard style mind you. None of those puny Muggle 'pops' that you've got. Other than that, there're just a few things for the kids, and there wouldn't be a Quidditch atmosphere if there's not a pub about, to get plastered-"

Lavender sent him a dirty look halting his response, "Don't even think about it Ronald Weasley. I'll not have you drunk when I'm due any time now with your daughters."

"Oh? So you know what sex it's going to be?"

"Gah, it's just Lavender's stupid old wives tail." Ron replied. "Passed down from mother to daughter-"

Hermione interrupted. "Wait-you're having twins! But the ultra sounds showed…"

Lavender smiled. "Well the ultrasounds showed I was having one; maybe they're matching heartbeats! But this test I do says different."

Hermione looked sceptical, "What test? I'm sure it's rubbish-"

"No no, here give me your left hand," Hermione reluctantly gave Lavender her hand. "Right, well since you don't have a wedding ring, I'll just leave this charm on. Now, I'm going to place my necklace over your palm…"

Lavender pulled the chain up and down three times in the backward L-shaped gap between Hermione's thumb and pointer. She then raised it over her left palm and waited for it to move. "This I swear to you never lies. However in some circumstances it counts miscarriages so that's where some oddities come about."

Hermione watched as the chain moved up and down then circled around her hand about four times before it suddenly stopped. "Um Lavender, according to this, I'm having an army of children…"

She rolled her eyes, "No silly. You saw it start and stop right, well that's obviously when the new child, er, 'starts'- I guess." She sighed at Hermione's puzzled look. "Ok, then it started to go back and forth, and it slowed down right? Well there's one child: a boy and then it repeated: another boy. Straight after it slowed it went around in a circle: that was a girl. Ms Granger, you are having two sons and a daughter, in that order."

Hermione laughed, poor Lavender. She was into astrology and divination; most things Hermione didn't believe in. Hey, it wasn't her fault she was sceptical; she just believed in logic. Truth was, Hermione didn't really want children, but if she did fall pregnant she'd be satisfied. It just wasn't much of a priority for her, to the dismay of her mother.

She became a paediatrician so she would be around kids a lot. Most children she'd healed had been her patients since they were babies. After seeing so much pain they had gone through she didn't think she could bring a baby into the world in the unfortunate chance it would have to suffer with some incurable illness. She wasn't selfish but rather scared. Maybe it wasn't professional to keep such personal contact with her patients and their families but hell, they were children.

"Oh I see. So a circle is a girl and a line a boy eh? Sorry Lav, but I don't believe it. Out of sheer curiosity, what did yours do" She suddenly heard screams and shriek of 'Oliver Wood' and 'Bobby Rice's' throughout the female population – though if one listened carefully, or stood next to the source, Dom's falsetto could too be heard. "Ouch! Bloody D-"

"Well I had a line, then two circles, going one way then the other continually spinning until the end. That's how I knew I'd have a boy and twin girls. I did it too Ron too with the same results. It's never lied before Mione; I doubt you'll be an exception: despite how much of an Antichrist you are. You'll find your match eventually."

"Hmm, maybe one day; but I heavily doubt it. I'm going to be a spinster my whole life," Hermione laughed, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"And she's proud of it too, the shrew. Come on Hermione let's go before Jayden wets himself," said Dom, whom Hermione suspected was using Jayden as an excuse to see two of his crushes, Wood and Rice.

Smiling, Hermione and Dom waved bye to the Wesley's, promising to meet up with them later. Before they could make their way over to the teams, they suddenly stopped and looked around panicking: where the hell was Jayden?

Oliver Wood took a detour and escaped his teammates, even the inquisitive Bobby, in hope to elude the crowd. He winced when he heard his name being chanted from the throng of fans, waiting for him to emerge. He loved the attentiveness of the fans, but being dubbed a 'God' was embarrassing.

He continued to walk unnoticed around all the other club's areas casually waving to a few players he knew, silently warning them that if they so much as made his presence known, he would fling them off the broom next time they played.

Walking about he glanced at the fans enjoying themselves on this glorious day, until he saw a young boy wandering helplessly around looking animatedly at everything taking place around him.

The boys' eyes widened as Oliver approached, and almost jumped a metre high when he spoke in his husky brogue accent. "You lost mate?"

Excitedly the boy answered, "Well not really. I just walked away from Doc and Uncle Dom to come see Puddlemere, but when I didn't see you I walked away and came back to where they was all standing. But then they was gone."

Lifting a brow Oliver glanced at the mischievous blond, "I'll take that as a round about way of saying that you're lost but don't want to admit it," the boy looked at him confused. "You know you shouldn't leave your family's side."

"They're not my mama and papa. Mama's in hospital and papa he went where the angels are," the boy said carelessly. "You speak funny."

Oliver realised he must be with his carers, and had to take him back to them. Even if that meant venturing into the hoard of animals. "That's because I come from Scotland, mate. And you speak funny to me. Come on let's go and find your ah…Doc and Uncle Dom."

They began walking, the boy full of energy and talk. "Doc's a nut case, but I like her. She's funny, but not when she gives us earwax flavoured Bertie Beans; Uncle Dom says it's a violation of our most basic rights and to call social services. Whatever that means."

It wasn't long before he heard a few curses and high-pitched shrieks Oliver assumed had to be from the Doctor, though he hid his surprise at the male source.

"You little arse why did you leave us?!" scolded Dom, who until now hadn't recognised the kid's saviour. "Well spank my cheeks and make me blush, Mr Wood!"

Oliver wasn't quite sure if it was an order or not. "Please, it's Oliver. You must be Dom, I've heard quite a bit about you in our adventure together."

Dom blushed, "Hope it was all good, because if it wasn't, you Jayden will be in a lot more trouble than what Doc will threaten you with. Ah here she is now…"

Oliver heard the loud voice of a woman scolding a male fan of hers, 'what are you staring at? These? Take a video so that your friends can rewind to the part where I tell you I'd never be desperate enough to have a go with you' and was suddenly curious by the woman named 'Doc'.

She came thundering to where they stood. "There you are! Why did you run off! My god, if we had lost you…I told you to wait, but no, you had to be…" she sighed, and bent to his level brushing his forehead. "Jayden please don't do that again, we were really worried about you." She then glanced up at the boy's saviour and stared.

Oliver looked down at her. He was used to the looks from both male and female admirers: he wasn't the Prophet's Wizardelor of the Year for the past six years for no reason. Though unlike the others, he didn't think she was assessing his package. She looked familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it. Brown eyes: common. Long curly brown hair: relatively common. Pale olive skin: common, it was the UK and winter for Merlin's sake. Average 5'6 height: common. Slim hourglass figure: uncommon but he would not have forgotten those 36C's, tiny waist and 40" hips- according to his calculations. Haughtily upturned chin: familiar. He tried to imagine her lying naked in bed beneath him, her hair a wild tangle of curls, maybe she'd been a bad lay? Then she spoke.

"Oliver Wood, I didn't think I'd be seeing you this soon…"

Hermione Granger, the bookworm and Gryffindor brain; the lass that saved them a game by enchanting Harry's glasses…the attractive Doctor Hermione Granger? How had he missed that figure under those robes? And she'd gotten her teeth fixed. Age had been kind to her too.

"Hermione Granger? I'd never thought I'd see you again," Oliver held out his hand that she firmly shook.

"Sorry to disappoint you. Listen I'm sorry if he was a pain, he usually is-," this earned her a protruding tongue from the child. If you're not careful I'll rip that tongue out, with permission from Dom of course."

"Oh, would you let me do it instead?" Dom asked, teasingly.

"Now I know what Jayden was talking about. He said you were a Shrewesque Philistine."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and casually smiled, "You almost had me believe you, but eve I know Jayden is too smart to make up words."

Before he could reply, the crowd turned to the scene displayed and came running like a bunch of madmen towards the quartet. "Good God," Oliver muttered. "You guys might want to get away while you still can, or you'll get trampled."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione responded, "Well don't we have a little ego? What makes you think they're here for you?"

He looked at her in disbelief, "what you think they're all running to Ebenezer Scrooge to relay the joys of Christmas?" he said pointing to the petulant old man, who appeared to be scolding life itself.

If she were impressed by his knowledge of Muggle culture, she didn't show it. She folded her arms, "Are you implying that I am stupid?"

"To imply means to suggest," Oliver challenged, and then pulled her towards him as the crowd formed around them.

"What are you doing?" Strong, muscled arms surrounded her in a secured embrace, but when she tried to push him away he just held on tighter. Her blood heated and alarm bells rang in her head warning her about playboy Quidditch players, reminding her of her promise to stay far away from them. Therefore, she pushed even harder.

Irritated, Oliver held on tighter; only for her benefit, he assured himself, "Gee lass, you're not giving me much confidence in your intelligence." He politely brushed off a fan's grabbing arm; "your friends were smart; they got out of here before you did."

Hermione shut up, as she knew he was right. What had come over her? She was never provoked and lost for words as she was now. She had gotten over her bossiness and innocence during the war; no one listened or respected it, so she might as well try being direct and challenging.

Hermione shut up as she new he was right but struggled to remain calm as the crowd pushed around them. She glanced over at Oliver, who was too used to this enthusiasm and hastily signing posters and paper. She usually wasn't attracted to stubble, but one look at Wood changed her mind completely. Stupid Wood. He had changed since Hogwarts- of course everyone did, but Oliver, was different. He dwarfed her 5'6 height, those cheekbones of his could slice marble, and his dishevelled hair, ah, a sable brown with a hint of auburn highlights. Though from the gossip rags Lavender read, she knew he probably put in a lot of effort to make his hair just that level of unkempt. She groaned; she was going to have to kill herself for romanticizing about his hair. Suddenly he eyes glanced her way.

"You know, it's rude to stare. I'd tell you to take a picture but I know you like recordings instead," he teased.

The Rat Bastard had heard her earlier. She glared and turned away but didn't miss his knowing smirk as he continued to sign autographs. He obviously wasn't concentrating on the job because an eager female fan gave him a marriage certificate to sign. Hermione grabbed the paper just in time, before Oliver signed away his bachelorhood and fortune. He turned to her and gave her a questioning look and she just flashed the paper in his face. He gave her a dumbfounded stare causing her mutter, "now who's the stupid one."

He heard her and read the paper. "Hmm, looks as if there was going to be a Mrs Wood sometime." He then signed the back of the paper and gave it back to the woman shooting Hermione death stares. "Sorry ah, Lucy was it? It just wouldn't work out, you're far too pretty for me!" This earned him a smile and blush Lucy.

"You're lucky I picked that out for you," Hermione muttered, while Oliver was pushing them out of the growing crowd. "Next time you taunt me, I'll make sure you marry a badger."

Oliver quirked a brow, but said nothing, too busy trying not to run his hand down the curve of her side. He had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate the subtle manoeuver of seduction, especially with the flash of a camera at their direction. "Expect to see yourself in a gossip column tomorrow." His lips quirked, "I can see the headline now. Hermione Granger: Wood's Next Woman is a Keeper."

She rolled her eyes and detached herself from Oliver's now wandering grasp. "What an honour."

Before Oliver could respond, the Puddlemere team, Dom and Jayden, joined them.

"Thank Merlin you made it out of there! I've never seen such animals in a crowd except when I was at a Village People concert, all those queens there- though adorable, were on acid…well not really…I thought you were going to be squashed to death by a bunch of female rhinos," said Dom, who was too excited for his own good.

"Yes, painfully terrible. Thanks for leaving me there alone, shows how brave you are you turnip," scolded Hermione.

"Sweetie have you ever heard of a gay Hero? Outside of Bert and Ernie that is. Anyway, I was um, protecting Jayden over here," lied Dom, who actually ran for his life. He searched around for Jayden who found himself with Bobby and Terra. "Come over here you runt."

"Oh," he whined and went to Hermione and Dom.

"I don't know what would be more exciting: colonic irrigation or getting trampled by a hoard of over-stimulated hedonists," Hermione sighed and turned around to face an amused Wood. "Bet you like that sort of thing don't you."

"Yes and both at the same time." He restrained himself from laughing at her flushed face, as did the rest of the group. If looks could kill, he would be six feet under by now.

"I forgot I was dealing with a man-child. How do you manage bipedalism with that large, thick head on your shoulders?"

He leaned toward her and breathed in her vanilla scent and whispered in her ear. "It's balanced by the large, thick head in my-"

Hermione elbowed him but could not hold back a shuddered at his warm breath over her sensitive shoulders, damned flirt! However, before she could settle her flaring nerves and plan his impending castration, Maggie Carrie waltzed toward them unimpressed by their display

"Wood keep your privates in your pants in public," she shot Bobby a glare as he commented on the cleverness of her alliteration. She turned to Hermione, "Magdalene Carrie, Puddlemere United's PR. And you're Hermione Granger," she extended her arm at Hermione.

"Ah hello-" Hermione added lamely, slightly affronted by the pretty, yet painfully thin woman in front of her who obviously felt some animosity to her.

Putting on one of her most stressed smiles, she responded. "Well you are friends with Harry Potter and I remember your face from a few articles a couple of years back with Krum." She didn't miss Hermione wince. "And we've been corresponding regarding next week's clinic," she then looked down at the little boy at Hermione's side. "Oh, you must be Jobe."

Jayden bared a toothy smile and then frowned, "It's Jayden", earning a glare from his uncle.

"Charming child," Maggie lied. "So I assume somebody will accompany him to the clinic? For medical interest? Would that be you Ms Granger?"

When Hermione responded no, Oliver was irrationally disappointed. He didn't know why but Hermione's plucky exterior intrigued him and her apparent disinterest in him was baffling.

"Oh, shame. Well, would you look who it is?" Maggie smiled as Viktor Krum and his cronies made their way towards the group, his large frame and dark looks made him an easy stand out.

"Herm-own-ninny," he acknowledged patronisingly.

Hermione scowled, it didn't bother her in fourth year, and she'd be damned if it got to her now. "Krummy. What a surprise."

"No, not really," he said bored, "We are at a Quidditch event after all."

"Really," Hermione exclaimed and looked around at her company, "so this is not the idiot convention?"

Oliver was far too interested what brought about the animosity between the two than to be insulted. He turned to Maggie, "what brings you out here? Come out to feed Akasha? Don't your kind turn to ash in the light?"

She glared at the Scot, ignoring the Queen of the Damned comment. She was far used to his love of Muggle popular culture "The press are waiting, probably very eager to know what you were doing with Parkinson yesterday. Should be interesting, stay to see it won't you Hermione? Let's go Viktor; the press will no doubt want you too." She grabbed Krum and headed off.

Oliver glared at her head and almost took out his wand to curse Krum. Man he hated being around that prick. He sighed, he hated the press; fortunately he was charismatic enough to make up some bull, "well Granger, after a pleasant interlude we must part ways. If there's anything you need, you know a good time, amusement- fortunately for you I can multi-task- you know where to find me."

"Highly doubtful," Hermione glared, and started to round up her men. " Let's go before I start developing Homo erectus tendencies. Goodbye Wood." She ended with a finality she had a feeling wouldn't be the case.

"Prat," Hermione mumbled. "Egotistical, big headed…"

Smirking Ron added, "Imagine what he's saying about you. Oh come on Hermione, I've never seen you so riled up since you punched Malfoy in the face. What did he do?"

She watched as Dom rounded up all the kids, checking how they measured up, muttering silent curses their way. What did they do? "Nothing actually, I just can't believe what a prat he's become. Womaniser…"

"Ah he just needs a real woman to fix him up."

Why bother? A leopard can't change its spots; a playboy can't think with his head when he's fiddling with his…

"So who is going on Monday with Jay?"

Ron snapped his finger in her face to get her out of a trance, "What oh, um I think Dom is. Actually I'm sure Dom is, because if he's not, then and all hell will break loose."

"Or…you could go anyway!" he added. "It wouldn't be too bad. You'd get a week off- although I guess it's not much of a holiday with Jay around…"

Hermione smiled and looked at Jayden, who was about to give Casey a bewitched Screaming Zoë lolly. "You're not wrong there." She hugged Ron. "Well I'd better go before the kids tarnish his 'fashionable Armani' shoes'. Tell Lav I said bye."

"No worries," Seriously, he added, "Hermione, just in general take a few weeks off. You're always working, we never get to see you anymore."

"I'll see how it is over Christmas and we can catch up," she added before saying her goodbyes and walked over to the Portkey to go home.

"So what was that all about?" teased Bobby.

Oliver played dumb, "Hmm, about what?"

Taking a seat at their signing table Bobby smirked, "You know what I mean dumbass. Gorgeous Granger, what connections do you two have? Is she single?"

Oliver got annoyed at that. "I don't know. We just went to school together; she was four years below me. Harry Potter's best friend…" Oliver tried to think little of it, but she was plastered in his mind and he didn't know why.

Maggie heard part of the conversation and decided to add her two cents, "Wood, I hope nothing is going to come of this. You shouldn't sully your reputation by adding another slut to the belt."

He wasn't saint by any means, but to attack a woman she didn't even know pissed him off. "Nothing happened and is going to happen Nurse Ratched. And if it did, it would be none of your bloody business."

Defensive, Maggie put up a fight, "Listen Wood. I personally don't care who you fuck be it half the female population of the UK and some islands in the Adriatic. It had better not affect your game understand? Puddlemere United needs to be your primary focus. We have sponsors to think of."

" When have I ever let the club down?" Oliver retorted anger seeping through his pores. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to do my job, you should try doing yours- whatever that is. We're not a couple anymore Carrie, so stop acting like the overbearing girlfriend you're not anymore." He said and moved away from her to the Captain's seat.

"Ouch Oliver," winced Bobby. "Why the change of character? You know she could get you off the team."

"No she couldn't. The team would be nothing without me," which earned a quill to the head by Marcus and he started signing his name on the flocking fans' jerseys.

"Ah there's the Oliver we know," Bobby added relieved and started signing autographs. "Welcome back."

But Oliver's mind was not there on the job, even when a well-endowed female asked him to sign her cleavage, his mind wandering to a curly brunette who wanted to kill him.

Remastered '15: The Playboy's Pursuit