The Playboy's Pursuit
CHAPTER 2:
Concerts and Consequences
It wasn't enough that her alarm was going off like a man sitting on a toilet having just eaten a can of beans and chilli, but an owl was incessantly tapping on her window with her mail in its beak. Damn.
Grudgingly, she stalked toward it and untied The Prophet from its claws. And winced. On the front page of the paper was a picture of she and Oliver from Saturday's carnival as well as a photo of Pansy Parkinson straddling Oliver in a booth. The article was not at all complementary for Wood, and she did not appreciate being called his new flame; nor did she like the assumption of a ménage a trios between the three. Her thoughts of murdering Rita Skeeter were interrupted by the ringing of her phone.
"Speak."
"Someone woken on the wrong side of the bed this morning! Or are you tired from your shag with Wood and Parkinson hmm?"
She shot up, "Oh shut it unless you can help me kill Skeeter."
"Tempting but no. Listen..."
Hermione threw the paper on the table and groaned. "Dom, you never call me unless you want a favour..."
"Well..."
Bingo.
"What?"
By the end of the conversation she knew there'd be a lot more funerals she'd be attending.
"Dammit!"
"Men and their bloody needs…stupid Homowizds and Parkinson, as if I'd break my heterosexual seal with her, not that there's anything wrong with homosexuality, but I have standards and like Dom says, her thighs could crack walnuts and not that I'm a seed of a deciduous tree- though I do have a bit of a hard shell, which really is not my fault, but years of unfortunate circumstances and the badger incident of 1998…" she'd been silently cursing the whole way to the stadium with Jayden at her heels. Unknown to her, he could hear every word she said.
After an abrupt change of plans, she was now the one to accompany Jayden to Puddlemere stadium, while Dom rushed to the final Homowizds concert featuring Pansy Parkinson.
"Come on Hermione, it's the last one ever and I got tickets! Homowizds and Pansy Parkinson, oh come on is the ultimate gay wizards concert. Deny me this and I'll just have to Avada Kedavra myself. You know I love my nephew but not as much as Homowizds. Yes I said it. Oh thanks sweetie I owe you a shopping spree. And don't worry I've already taken care of everything, the hospital knows." Dom had said only a few hours before on phone. He didn't have enough balls to confront her face to face, he was all for self-preservation.
So here she was only a few metres from the entrance of Puddlemere's building verbalising her stream of consciousness unconsciously.
"I always got into trouble when I used some of those words. Dad used to put the silence jinx on me and then lock me up in a room with Bogart's. It was scary, but I didna say those words anymore," Jayden said, speeding ahead of an irritated Hermione. He stopped and looked at her before entering the office, "Maybe we should lock you in a room too!" he ran inside, and Hermione was left red-faced with horror over what the little devil had heard.
"I wouldn't mind locking you up," a seductive voice teased behind her. "Of course, I'd have to check with Pansy, we missed you last night."
She turned to glare at Oliver Wood, who was wearing dark jeans a black singlet and holding a brand new Nimbus 3000X broom in his hand. "Sorry had another affair to attend to. You're not the only one with multiple lovers," she sighed and waited for him to reach her. "You're training in that?" Hermione noticed how his muscles bludged from his top and gawked.
"The girls like it," he smiled and added teasingly, "unless you'd rather me in something less?"
"Nightmares Wood," she glared at him and sped into Puddlemere's building, leaving Oliver chuckling behind her.
She saw Jayden standing impatiently next to Magdalene Carrie, Puddlemere's Rep who was tapping her foot in annoyance. She had read todays feature and did not like that they entered together. "About time Wood. The world doesn't revolve around you." She turned to Hermione and her look changed from annoyance to disdain. "Oh Ms Granger, hello. I thought Mr Vetrovski would be accompanying Jehovah."
Hermione saw the loathing look in those blue eyes and was taken aback. She had done nothing to deserve that menacing look and realised that this woman wasn't somebody she would be befriending any time soon. "It's Jayden. Yes, as you can tell there was a change in plans. Mr Vetrovski couldn't make it; an unforeseen circumstance which required his presence arose."
Stressing another fake smile Carrie shook her hand "Wonderful. Well let's get to business. Wood stop standing there and look like you're busy. Go and train."
Oliver gave himself a once over and glanced at Maggie with all innocence. "Oh I'm ready Maleficent. What's the problem?"
"Who trains in jeans? Go and put your robes on! And then go take-" she paused trying hard to remember the darn kids' name "-Jason to the rest of the team."
Jayden got up, eager to leave the crazed woman with the foot problem, and stood near Hermione. "Ms Granger if you'd follow me you have some things to sign. Then you can be on your way outside with the rest of the team, doing whatever you have to with the kid." She snarled and went down the corridor.
"She's our very own Demoness," Oliver stated in his rich Scottish accent, "A wee bit temperamental lately since it's colder up here than in hell. But the bitchiness, well none of that's for show."
"And to think I was getting the special treatment…bloody Dominic..." Hermione sighed and followed her.
Smiling sweetly, Oliver said, "Well, I hope he has fun at the concert."
Hermione stopped short and turned around but Oliver and Jayden were making their way outside already. Anybody could've known about that concert, it was being publicised over clubs, the papers, posters; hell the man was supposedly shagging the lead singer. Dom said he was eager to go, but tickets were sold out…
She almost bumped into the wall, as her mind wandered; but shook her head and went on her way.
Oliver had many questions to ask the fiery brunette, but every time he wanted to talk with her, there was someone interrupting or keeping them away. He wanted to know her relationship with the kid, why they were so close, how and what was she doing and why the sudden change of character; from the bushy haired bookworm with almost no personality, to the sharp, witty, yet cautious witch that she was now.
"Well let's head off shall we Jayden? Oh look there's Bobby."
He was casually leaning over one of the female office workers, obviously and unsuccessfully trying to chat her up, Oliver mused.
Smiling sweetly the young girl pushed Bobby aside and strode off blushing slightly as she passed Oliver. "Hi," she said and practically ran off.
Rice turned and sent Oliver a scathing look, "Lucky bastard. You just look at a chick and she's melting. I have to practically corner her before she makes a move, and it's usually to push me away," he gave Oliver a playful punch.
"Word of advice: lower the arm or use a better deodorant." Oliver said.
It took a while for Bobby to register, "Huh? Oh you're a freggin comedian aren't you, har bloody har. I use Links you moron-"
"Hey not in front of the children," he pointed down at Jayden.
"Oh right, whoops. Jayden right? How ya going?"
"Good," Jayden replied and shook Bobby's hand.
"Ready for some Quidditch? Yeah? Well let's meet the team first shall we?" and the three of them started out to the field. Bobby turned to Oliver, "So I hear Hermione's here. How'd she take the article in the paper? Does she want to kill you? Where'd you lock her up?" he trailed on.
Oliver's brow shot up at the onslaught of questions. "Actually she asked about you; whether you were single; what you actually do for a living since you have such small skill set, whether you wanted to go out..."
"Really?" he sounded almost cheerful.
Oliver rolled his eyes, "No. Come on kid; let's go and meet the coach and team."
An annoyed Magdalene Carrie was walking down the long corridor in a childish fit.
She shot Hermione a glare that could freeze Medusa, but Hermione was too absorbed in all the zooming pictures they were passing to even acknowledge the animosity radiating from Maggie, which annoyed her more.
She and Oliver had been going out for about three years before Maggie had broken it off. It was going nowhere and she wanted a huge diamond on her finger and a large portion of his galleons, but Oliver was too absorbed in his Quidditch to even notice.
She truly loved him in her own way, though he thought that she was more interested in his bank account than him personally, and she only cheated on him from neglect and depression; that it hadn't been her fault… that he should be lucky to have her. That he shouldn't have blamed her for…she didn't want to think of it.
"What do you want me to say? Don't leave, I want you? You're the fool Carrie, you cheated, and I say good riddance. You should be happy, now you can suck off some other man of his money and time."
It had stung.
"You wasted three years of my life. I thought we had something you asshole…we shared a life! It's all about Quidditch for you and one day, you'll find someone you love and they won't love you, because of who you are. Without Quidditch you're nothing Wood, and even then you're a lowly Keeper."
Surprisingly he took it well, only one wall had a hole through it. "I cared about you Maggie, but we both know what you were really after in this relationship and I'll be damned if I give you it. I could forgive you for cheating, but your irresponsibility during those months…and what happened afterward- that I can never forgive you for. I should have ended it then. I don't want anything to do with you anymore."
And that was it, well simplified anyway. She had been so mad after that breakup, hell he deserved it for acting like an arrogant ass, and to think she thought she'd purposefully put in danger their -. Son of a bitch, she was not revisiting this again.
"We're here," Maggie snapped and stomped into her office and poured herself some Muggle Vodka.
"Let's cut to the chase shall we? Because I really don't want to talk to you for too long and I'm sure you want nothing to do with me…"
"No shit," Maggie replied. She hated Hermione Granger; she'd had the world at her feet and been engaged to Krum...well that was before Maggie came along and seduced him; of course Hermione had never known it was her...or any of the other women after her for that matter until Maggie herself set up an incident in which she sent a letter to Hermione informing her that Krum was having an affair and the details of the whereabouts, in the hopes that the demise of their relationship would pave way for hers and Krum's. She had gone, of course, and Maggie had watched in the background, along with Rita Skeeter, thinking she had secured the now-single Krum. It hadn't work, and she was still working on it until this day.
Too bad Krum still felt something for Hermione, even if it was guilt. Heck she'd probably have more of a shot with Wood. So she'd try for both.
"Right," Hermione muttered, unaffected by Maggie's hostility. "So, these forms?"
"What's with you and Wood?"
So that's what this is about, Hermione thought. Not that she hadn't known, even a blind man could see the tension between them two. "Nothing."
Maggie sighed and stood up, don't play dumb with me, she thought. "You seem close. Drink?"
Hermione shook her head. She was a good judge of character and in the little while she'd known Maggie, she had an idea that if she accepted Carrie's drink, she'd be poisoned.
"It doesn't take a genius to know you have an issue with this situation." Hermione put up her hand to silence Maggie's retort. "But before you make an idiot out of yourself- no matter how amusing I would find it- Oliver and I used to go to school together. I hadn't seen him in years until Saturday, at a Quidditch carnival funnily enough-" she ended sarcastically, but Maggie didn't see the humour in it, and handed over the finished forms. "Is that all?"
Maggie was back leaning in her leather black chair, "Let's make it clear so that this week goes smoother than a Hippogriffs ass."
"I am not entirely sure that's the correct adjective to use considering the noun does not possesses that property in this simile…"
"Don't be smart. Just do what you have to do and less of it with Oliver. Watch that kid, Bruce, Boris or what-"
"Rupert?" Hermione added unhelpfully.
"Sure. Do what you have to and leave. I know you don't see it this way but I'm helping you out. Wood's playing around with you, so don't get your hopes up, he does that with women, you know. Lures them in and throws them back out, heartbroken, and by the sound and look of you, you already know what its like."
"I don't need advice from you Ms Carrie," Hermione stood up and if she could, she'd have thrown the chair at the insect, and left.
"A shame since it's rarely freely given and well-meaning," she sighed.
"Yes well you get what you pay for," Hermione threw back and excited the room.
"Just stay away from my Oliver," Maggie sneered at her retreating form and playing with her wand and decided to give Hermione a little headache. "I'll make sure of it."
Hermione, seething with anger, thundered down the long corridor, paying no mind to the images that had once caught her attention.
Wasn't it bad enough that she had lost a whole week's worth of work and woke to the world thinking she was a slut, that she was now competing against a woman for a man she knew nothing about and had no interest for, well that was a lie, but she was in too bad a mood to argue.
Maggot Crapface, she fumed childishly, what bloody nerve did that stick have? What's it to her about Wood and I? Not that anything is- God forbid- not that it would be terrible but a Quidditch player, me? Not that it hadn't happened before, but… WHO THE HELL DESIGNED THIS PLACE?
Yet again her mind wandered as it usually did, unawares that she was just about to slam headfirst into a glass door. "Ouch!" she hit her head with her hand an automatic reaction to where the door hit it. "Merlin, ouch!"
Hermione heard a faint giggle and turned to see a tiny woman with short mousy hair and elfin features, she recognised as Grace Macintosh, Puddlemere's seeker.
"Don't worry," Grace smiled, "anybody who's just come from a meeting with the Lilith, as Oliver calls her, would want to pound on something."
"I thought they were automatic?"
"Guess it's jammed." She extended a hand, "Grace Macintosh, Puddlemere's-"
"Seeker, I know." Hermione smiled reaching out for the hand. "Hermione-"
"Granger. You're here with Jayden right?"
Hermione nodded, "the very same. I was just about to join them but I can't find…"
"Oh you're flying too then?" Grace asked.
She blanched, "Flying? No what…they're in the air?" Hermione forgot the throbbing pain in her head and the dizziness and followed Grace outside.
She wasn't sure how Jayden would react to the high altitudes with his condition but at first sight she knew he was fine; but she on the other hand felt faint, very faint.
While Jayden was sharing a broom with Bobby, who was teaching him how to steer Hermione staggered to the nearest bench to take a seat, she missed began to fall, hitting her head against the metal seat. She thought she heard Grace asked if she was all right and then saw black.
From the skies Oliver saw Hermione and Grace talking before parting ways, and then turned his attention to the training session. The team was taking turns to teach Jayden how to fly and tutor him on each position. At the moment Bobby was being steered by the boy, who was being taught how to hit the Bludger with the club.
"I usually pretend I'm smacking the head of an ex-girlfriend's father, I find that works best," Bobby had said, "but in your case, just pretend you're hammering your teacher."
Jayden was good at it too. Bobby commented that he felt sorry for the poor bugger whom Jayden was smacking the hell out of: he never missed. Well except for that time the ball hit Bobby's that left him talking about marrying Dolores Umbridge…
Then he saw Grace run over to Hermione, who had fallen and, what Oliver could only imagine, hit her head painfully hard against the metal table. Nobody else had seen the incident; they were all feet higher than him in the air, so Oliver hurriedly zoomed down toward them.
"What happened?" he asked and looked for any blood coming from her head.
"Well she just came back from Maggie's Office and smacked her head really hard on the glass door and-" she looked at Oliver and saw straight through him. "Oh you don't think she did anything do you?"
He fumed; that was the door they had just walked through an hour before, it automatically opened at sense of a solid figure: a device they had stolen from the Muggles. The door was incredibly thick: magic proof, anybody hitting into it could be concussed for days. "I'll take her to the healer; just make sure Jayden's alright when the sessions finished ok? Keep this quiet for now, I'm sure she'd kill us if the kid found out." He picked her up and carried her away.
Grace smirked; he could've just levitated her or summoned the Healer: it's what he should've done, but Grace sensed there was something else going in that mischievous Scottish mind and hoped Hermione was tough enough to take the heat.
Because, when he was done, she would be left hurt, angry, used and alone and Oliver would've have signed another one of his own death certificates.
Carrie felt very satisfied with herself, Granger was probably going to go home concussed and they'd just get somebody else to fill in her shoes. It wasn't much retribution but it worked so far…
She heard a pounding at the door. "Come in. Oh Oliver, you should've told me you were coming…"
"Don't you start Carrie; you've gone too far." Oliver came to her desk and leaned over her, "You're sick in the head you know that."
She leaned into him seductively, noses almost touching, "I don't know what you're talking about."
He stood firm, recognising the tone she used to distract him. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You put a spell on the doors; concussed her. And then she fell and hit her head again on the seats"
Maggie pulled away, inwardly filled with glee at her luck! "She hit into a door? Ever thought the Muggle technology is screwing up? How's it my fault if she's a klutz? Probably like that in bed too...Now," she sighed moving around the desk and pressed herself against him, "I can think of more constructive things to do…"
He pulled away as she leaned into kiss him, "Well you are in your own self-obsessed world…"
"Another thing we share in common. Come join me," she thrust into him and put her lips to his.
Oliver didn't respond at first, he didn't know whether to be repulsed or give into her. This was the way she got men, he knew. Maggie charmed them and pulled them in for the kill, hook line and sinker. She mainly seduced rich men, and always got away with it and their money; she was a clever bitch but had yet to ensnare him totally in her shell. What she'd had of him was enough.
Getting impatient Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him even closer to her slim figure. When he finally gave in, in a battle of tongues and hands, she chuckled softly against him and pulled away. "I knew you still wanted me, so why deny it?"
"Because you're a thieving cow, that's why. Fuck, what am I doing?" he groaned running a hand through his thick hair.
Maggie stroked his face, brushing her fingers over his full lips and stubbly cheeks. If she could get him back, maybe they'd still have a chance and she could then have the rich, stable future she always wanted and maybe that little thing he wanted: she just needed him first. Heck if it didn't work, she could always go back to Krum.
"You're here to see me, Oliver. You're alone; you want me despite what you said before."
Oliver didn't know whether to laugh at her or break those fragile bones. He would've preferred the latter, but the former seemed less physical. She was so desperate to get back together with him, her eagerness made him sick. Maggie was just what he didn't need, a clinging, money sucking anorexic that would just use him for his galleons, fame and sex. He had enough of them already.
"I'm alone so there are no witnesses when I strangle you Maggie, so don't get your hopes up," he started to the door. "Leave Hermione alone. I know you did it, jealousy and revenge- you get off on that shit."
Maggie laughed, "Jealous, me? Of her? Don't make me throw up."
"No you do that after every meal. Look Hermione's just an old housemate in school, that's it. As for us… well, when dogs fly."
"Well if you cared for her so much, why've you spent the last ten minutes with me, Casanova?"
"Well it's not because I want you, Carrie. I'd rather a feral hog."
"Well Granger's perfect for you then."
Maggie cringed as Oliver slammed the door. She felt nauseated and light headed, probably because she drank before she ate anything. It wasn't her fault she was so thin, in this day and age size 6 was fat and fat meant unpopular, unloved, unsuccessful and unwanted. She'd do anything to get Oliver back, even if it meant starving herself: that's what he wanted right? What any man wanted?
So she picked up her salad, giving her body what it craved yet knowing that when she was finished she'd throw it up anyway.
He was fuming. That cow, how dare she?
He was on his way to the healers to check if Hermione had woken up yet. He wouldn't tell her about Maggie and her devious plots, honestly he didn't want to think about her anymore.
He thought about the kiss and cringed, remembering the feeling when Maggie was a voluptuous beauty and before she sold her soul to the devil. Ten years ago he thought she was the one, the goosebumps at each touch, the light-headedness with each kiss: he had never had that experience before, but now years later, he saw it for what it was, loneliness and likely a repercussion of his small stint with Muggle recreational drugs.
He entered the ward and saw Hermione looking slightly dazed, yet fully aware of her surroundings. She was arguing with Bobby, who also had a bandaged head.
"Pringles taste better with French Onion dip," Bobby was saying.
Hermione shook her head, "No wonder your cholesterol is high. You can't dip Pringles, Bobby, that's what crackers are for. Crackers would be out of business if Pringles were the new dipping sensation."
"They're the same thing with flavour Hermione. You can even dip bread in dip…"
Oliver was annoyed, how come Bobby-the least romantic man he knew-could have a conversation with an intelligent woman about a stupid topic and not yet reprimanded and yet when he spoke to her she sliced him at every opportunity?
The Healer rolled her eyes and strode up to him. "They're been going on like this for the last 20 minutes. First it was: what's the best sandwich, cucumber or cheese and onion chips, just take a guess who's was which; then it was mustard and now Pringles. It's enough to make anyone off their food."
"They must've smacked their heads harder than we thought." Oliver said, glaring at Bobby's bandaged head. "How's the Doctor?"
The Healer shrugged her shoulders, "She's fine, at first she was a little restless; but then she took out her wand and zapped herself better. Typical medi-wizard's, think they're better than Healers."
She walked over to Bobby and took off the bandages, "You're fine Rice, out you go."
Bobby scrunched up his nose, "This healing balm smells Evie. Why couldn't you just zap me a spell like Hermione did?"
She hit him on the head, "Out you go now Rice. Shoo."
Bobby got out of bed and made a face to Oliver, "nuts that one," and left. Oliver wondered if he was talking about Hermione or the Healer.
Oliver walked over to Hermione who was shaking her head at Bobby, "That man is something I'll tell you now. I heard you ferried me over here, thanks." Though she looked a little uneasy and wouldn't look him in the eye.
"It was nothing," Oliver shrugged and decided to ignore it. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've got a migraine for ten, but it's going away…slowly." She looked up at him, "thanks for watching Jayden when I was with Maggie, I didn't know I'd take so long."
"Ah, it was nothing, really. But I didn't do it for free."
She froze and Oliver could just imagine her train of thought. Probably something to do with sex and his reputation. He didn't bother to ease her conscience, that's what her superior type thought: they judged before they knew. A long pause filled the room and he couldn't stand it. "Look I'm jok-"
She cut him off. "Well I'd better be going then, I have to drop by the hospital to see how they all are; one of the nurses came by and took Jayden."
Deciding to get her back for annoying him, with a booming voice, so that Evie could hear, Oliver cried, "you can't apparate in your state…"
The Healer heard, outcome successful, and interrupted, "Oh no you don't Ms Granger, you're in here for at least another hour. I don't care how much magic you put on yourself."
"What? I'm fine, I…" She gave Oliver a dirty look; he pretended to not look affected, "I'm not talking to you anymore…"
"Great start," he smiled for the first time and made himself comfortable in one of the chairs near her bed. Hermione had folded her arms and was glaring at the Healer who fixed up her bandage. He thought she looked like petulant young child with her wrappings and pout, he chuckled. "Doctors are the worst patients."
"I don't see what's so amusing; and this is a waste of time when I can treat myself- ouch!" the Healer had tightened the wrappings. "I guess I deserved that."
The doors slammed open and Bobby emerged, holding a sandwich. Oliver looked at the clock realising it was 2:00pm, just after lunch.
"Hermione this cucumber sandwich is disgusting, seriously. It's even worse than the time I mix anchovies and olives with jelly."
"Did you put some sauce on it?" Oliver asked.
"Sauce? Did you smack your head too Wood?" Bobby asked, and stood next to him. "Oh by the way Wood, Coach wants to see you now. Something about Keepering, I don't know, I was too busy trying not to puke from this horrifying creation." He turned to Hermione.
"Well I never told you to eat it Bobby," she saw Oliver stand, "you're leaving now?"
"Yeah, can't argue with the coach." Damn it.
Bobby shook his head, "Always putting Quidditch before the mentally ill aren't you?"
"Sorry, you lower my IQ..." Oliver shook his head in and went to the door, listening to Hermione and Bobby gossiping about him now.
"Hey Oliver," Hermione called, chuckling after a remark Bobby said, "How did you know Dominic went to the concert?"
He smiled mischievously and turned, "Well, I gave him the tickets."
SouredSweetie Remastered 2015