Disclaimer: I don't own or make any money off of Harry Potter.
Big Thanks to Rosie for being my beta!
Thank you to:
Nynaeve80- Thank you! I couldn't give too much away and Harry and Ron we're good school friends but everyone needs to branch out at some point or another.
LaNaHwAnNa- I would say butt head is too strong of words lol. Heres a new chapter!
Gueneviere- Thank you, I like Pucey/Granger fics but couldn't find it in me to write a multi chapter fic bout them, had to sneak it in lol.
Pyra Sanada- It's a great ship to love!
MmeFleiss- Don't worry, family interaction is coming soon.
Tu lo sai inc.- I'm glad you like my writing style and character picking, I hope you continue those feelings.
votehermione- Thanks!
FredWeasleyLover1126- I'm updating...granted later rather than sooner but you'll have that, I guess.
Dirtybutbeautiful- Here's part of the rest lol.
Like Hermione had predicted, lunch was canceled the next week after they'd agreed upon a day. It seemed that a play that both the girls had been waiting to see for months had come to town, and they had demanded that their significant others cancel all plans for that day. The boys, never ones to stand up for themselves, had dutifully owled Hermione and asked for a postponement, something she granted easily.
"I can't believe they canceled on you again," Adrian said as he sat across from her in the cafeteria at the Ministry. "What kind of show is short enough to be seen during a lunch hour?" he asked with a snort before biting into a ketchup-soaked chicken strip, giving her a smile when she wrinkled her nose at his choice of lunch.
"Just let it go, Adrian. I have."
He rolled his eyes at her then let his gaze wander around the cafeteria. She had asked him to lunch with her today when she'd received the owl from Harry apologizing, and hadn't felt like going down alone and risking the chance of seeing the foursome walk in to eat.
"That is the exact problem with you Gryffindors. Let someone else cross you or yours and you come out baring teeth and growling like a mama lion, but let a housemate cross you, you let it roll off your back. Your house animal should have been a duck, you know," he said with a disgusted sigh before returning to his meal, something he'd picked up from his nephew, or so he'd claimed.
"Adrian, a Slytherin can't lecture anyone about double standards. I'm sure I've heard somewhere that if it were to occur, the world would implode," she teased before tossing her napkin onto her plate and pushing it to the side to allow room for her arms to rest comfortably in front of her. "I've got tickets to the game this Thursday, if you want to go."
"I've got a lunch date with my mum that I can't postpone again," he said darkly, picking up the bottle of ketchup and squeezing a large amount of the red sauce onto his chicken.
"Again?" she asked, although she knew very well what he meant.
Adrian had been putting off having any form of meal with his mother for the past three months and bragged about it to anyone who would listen when the subject of parents was brought up. She hid a smile at the black look he gave her and leaned back to enjoy the show that was 'upset Adrian Pucey'.
"The old woman seems to think that because she gave birth to me she needs to see me every week. Who on earth, apart from you, has time to go traipsing around with their parents?" he asked around a mouthful of chicken.
"It's not that ba-"
"You've met the woman, Hermione. Don't tell me it's not that bad. She owled me yesterday and told me she'd show up here, at my job, if I didn't agree to have lunch with her, and then asked when I was going to give her grandchildren to spoil."
He sounded so scandalized at the thought of having children that Hermione couldn't help but let a peal of laughter escape, snickering when he glared. Very few things could get under his skin so it was rather funny to watch him get himself into a froth over something.
"Then I guess I'll just have an extra ticket," she said with a shrug, smiling when his mouth moved but sounds appeared to be beyond him.
"Have your jokes, Hermione. Let me know how Oliver's mum is," he said when he'd regained the ability to talk, a smirk on his lips at the reminder of Hermione being stuck with a Quidditch nut's mother for a few hours.
"It's not until tomorrow. Maybe she'll back out."
His only response was to laugh at her.
"That's like saying you wouldn't go to a book signing when one of your books finally gets published," he said before finishing his meal and standing up to offer her his hand.
She stuck her tongue out at him before taking his hand. They split up to go to their separate offices and she almost made it back before she was stopped by Harry and Ron, who both shuffled their feet before offering their hellos.
"Hey, 'Mione," they said in unison before looking at each other like one had taken the other's line.
"Hello," she said with a tight smile, nodding to both boys before looking past them both and down the hallway that led to her office.
"Can we talk?" Harry asked softly as Ron nodded his agreement.
"I've just gotten out of lunch; I'm on my way back to my office. If you want to talk, follow me," she said before walking between them and down the corridor, not having to look back to see if they were following her. She could hear Ron's feet dragging on the carpet.
"Sorry we canceled," Harry said when they'd made it to the office and the door was closed behind them.
"Yeah, the stupid show was canceled anyway," Ron finished with a scoff before sitting down in one of the two chairs she had placed in front of her desk.
She settled into her own chair and shrugged in answer. "I had lunch with Adrian."
"Oh."
"Is the offer still open for Thursday, Hermione?" Harry asked after a short silence. "We haven't been able to spend time with you for ages and now that you finally understand Quidditch, it could be fun to go to a game together."
She thought about the question and sighed before answering him. "He only sent two tickets, Harry."
"Oh."
"We can get together after the game, though," she offered, smiling, genuinely happy that they were making an effort to spend time with her.
"That sounds great. Owl us when the game's over," Ron said with an easy smile before standing up and rounding the desk to lean down and draw her into a hug. "Love you, 'Mione."
"Love you too, Ron," she answered before Harry gave her a hug and kissed her temple.
"See you tomorrow, Hermione."
She waved to them both as they left and sat a few seconds after they were gone to smile at the scene that had just taken place before getting back to her work. She'd just put the finishing touches to a rejection letter for a proposed time-reversing potion when a throat was cleared in her doorway and a muffled tapping sound began to drift through her office. Looking up, she was startled to see Oliver Wood standing in her office, leaning against the doorframe.
"Hello, Oliver. I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," she said politely, trying to remember whether she'd received an owl from him saying he'd be coming.
"It's fine. I didn't tell you I would be dropping by," he answered with a shrug before slipping his hands into his pockets and returning to tapping his foot.
Feeling slightly relieved that she hadn't forgotten a letter, she smiled at him, motioning for him to take a seat. She glanced over to the clock on her wall and saw that she only had a few minutes left of her day.
"So what brings you to the Potions department?" she asked as she wondered how he'd gotten past the guards.
Because of the potential risks of some proposals that came through her office on a daily basis, the Potions wing was guarded to anyone not on the Ministry payroll or on a list given to the Ministry by her at the beginning of the month; he wasn't on the list.
"I wanted to take you out to dinner tonight and prepare you for tomorrow," he said, looking a bit nervous.
"Why would you have to prepare me for tomorrow?" she asked as she began to clear her desk.
"My mother can be a bit…aggressive," he explained as she bent to place the proposals that were still pending in her bottom drawer, causing her head to snap up.
She saw his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink and gritted her teeth when he offered her an almost apologetic smile.
"Aggressive how?" she asked, breathing in for a ten count then letting it out slowly.
He'd opened his mouth to answer when Percy Weasley stuck his head in her office to tell her she wasn't going to be paid overtime because she was entertaining and felt it necessary to stay over until it suited her to leave.
"Still have that wand firmly up your arse, don't you, Weasley?" Oliver asked with a snort before pushing himself up and offering Hermione his hand. "Come on, Hermione, I've already sent ahead for a table. Wouldn't want to be late."
She hid a smirk as he helped her up and grabbed her coat before they walked past the open-mouthed redhead still in her doorway. She let him lead her to the Floo and raised a questioning brow when the guard at the doors of the wing that held her office thanked Oliver and gave him a wink as they passed.
"I signed a paper for his boys," the Keeper explained, picking up a pinch of Floo powder and throwing it into the fire. "Tranders Eating."
She stepped into the fireplace and closed her eyes then waited for the spinning to stop.
"Hello, ma'am. Can I take your cloak?" a voice asked as a steadying hand landed on her shoulder.
Smiling at the man she shook her head slightly and slipped her cloak off, only to be pushed by one Oliver Wood as he came through the Floo.
"Sorry, Hermione," he mumbled as he helped her with her cloak and handed it to the man.
Not waiting for a return slip, he led her to the host's station and informed him that the Wood party had arrived. He rested a hand on the small of her back as he followed her to the table and pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat himself, surprising her with his before now non-existent manners.
"May I take your drink orders?" a young witch asked with what Hermione assumed was her seductive smile, her eyes resting on Oliver.
"I'd like a water with lemon."
"I'd like a lemonade," Oliver ordered with a nod before turning to Hermione and clearing his throat. "Is Adrian going with you tomorrow?" he asked, playing with the salt shaker that was in the middle of the table.
"No, he had a prior engagement he couldn't cancel," she explained, barely suppressing a smile. She would hear all about the lunch on Saturday night – Friday if it were truly horrible.
"Oh. Then you'll have to be on your toes. Mum likes to talk during the games but she'll still expect you to know what's going on," he started, moving his arms to the armrests of his chair when their drinks were delivered. "Not just Puddlemere, either."
Hermione fought the urge to mutter 'great' and instead opted to prepare her water before taking a sip.
"Who are you playing?"
"Wigtown Wanderers. Their Keeper is Slanders; he's a dolt if I've ever seen one. They have a rookie Seeker that hasn't seen the Snitch, much less caught it, and a replacement Chaser 'cause Minder couldn't keep his eyes away from the girl in his box long enough to see the Bludger coming at his face…"
She watched, and listened, as he seemed to go into a debate about the Wanderers' biggest weakness. He was just making a decision between Slanders and Cagon – who that was, she didn't know – when the wait witch came back for their orders. Hermione ordered a salad, still full from lunch, and listened as Oliver ordered enough food to last her a week.
"You're going to eat all of that?" she asked when the witch left (not without giving him another once over).
"I have a game tomorrow. You don't want me falling out of the sky from starvation, do you?" he asked with a wicked smile before continuing to prep her for his mother.
Some time later, after the dishes had been brought out and cleared away again, they sat and talked about the upcoming game as well as her day at the Ministry.
"Someone really wants to make a potion that would make them gain twice their body weight?" he asked with a snort, sending her a look of disbelief.
"I know, I thought the same thing – why?"
During the course of the evening, they had gotten off topic but neither was willing to stop the current conversation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to talk to a non-Ministry employee about her work and it put her at ease to know she had a new ear to fill.
"They don't have to explain why they want to make certain things?"
"There is a questionnaire that must be filled out but the answers don't have to be specific. They can be as vague or specific as they want," she answered with a shrug, a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth when he shook his head and chuckled at her story. "I can't be the only one with work-related stories," she said, nudging his leg with her foot under the table, encouraging him to open up.
"Where to start?"
She rolled her eyes when he took his time, giving a mock thoughtful look until she laughed.
"You remember Erin, right? The Seeker." She nodded and he continued. "His first few games on first string we had him convinced that if he spun in a circle and spit on his broom he'd have good luck for the game."
"You didn't!" she said, folding her arms on the table and leaning onto them, wanting to know the outcome of that nasty little trick.
"Yes, we did. We did three-a-days for a week when coach found out but it was worth it," he said with a wink and a smile, almost making her snort with laughter.
"Did they-" she started, only to be interrupted by the waitress, who had given up on the sultry looks she'd thrown Oliver at the beginning of the meal.
"Would I be able to interest either of you in one of the fine desserts we have to offer?" she asked before waving her wand towards Hermione's glass to re-fill it.
"No, still in training," Oliver said, patting his stomach and smiling when both women sent him odd looks. "I can't eat any sweets until the end of the season," he explained.
"Oh. Well, none for me either, I'm not one for eating sweets late at night," Hermione answered, looking at her watch and seeing it was half past ten.
"Late? What time is it?" Oliver asked, the smile on his face dimming as he sat forward in his chair to look at Hermione's wrist intently.
"Ten-thirty, why?" she asked, giving a nod to the waitress as she walked off to greet a new table.
"Damn, curfew was ten. Coach is going to kill me," he said quietly, more to himself than her.
"Curfew?" she asked, automatically thinking of her parents scolding her when she'd returned late one night during a summer break from Hogwarts.
"Yes….fuck. If I'm late for curfew, I'm benched. Damn it, how did it get so late?" he asked, throwing a few Galleons on the table before standing and helping her up then leading her to the cloakroom. "The money is on the table," he said as they passed the waitress.
"You could be benched?" Hermione asked as they waited for their cloaks at the Floo entrance.
"It depends on how Coach is feeling when he catches you, but yes," he said, sighing in relief when the cloakroom assistant handed them their cloaks. "We'll Floo to mine and then you can Floo to your house," he said as he quickly helped her put her cloak on before throwing a pinch of Floo powder in the fire and saying, "Oliver Wood's flat."
She walked through, with a none too gentle nudge from the Puddlemere Keeper, and was still righting herself when he appeared and looked around his living room, something she'd neglected to do when she'd arrived.
"Wood, what the hell time is it?" a gravelly voice asked from her right, causing her to spin around to see a large man sitting on a couch that looked as if it protested his weight.
"Sorry, Coach," the younger man apologized, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her close to him. "It won't happen again."
The man looked her up and down and she barely repressed the urge to shudder in disgust when he grinned. "I can see why you're late, Wood. Tell me how she is tomorrow but don't let it happen again."
The man pounded Oliver on the back and gave him a wink before smiling at Hermione and Disapparating with a crack, leaving a mortified Hermione Granger behind him.
"He…he thinks I'm…oh my god," she groaned.
"Sorry," he attempted, looking every bit as embarrassed as she felt, his cheeks red and his eyes darting around his living room. "I'll um…I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Oh my god," she said again, replaying the last few moments in her mind and feeling her face flame. "He thought I was some streetwalker you picked up."
She looked at Oliver, who met her eyes for a fleeting second before offering her a small smile, which turned into a grin then a laugh. She stared at him for what seemed like an hour before clearing her throat and folding her arms across her chest as she waited for him to answer for his random act of hysteric laughter.
"Sorry, Hermione, but you should have seen your face…it was just…" He trailed off with a laugh before trying to calm himself, though he still smiled like a Cheshire cat.
She stared at him in disbelief before reaching to hit him in the arm. "It is not funny, Oliver. He thought you picked me up!" she tried to explain, her face flaming at the thought.
"I know, I know, sorry." He didn't look a lick sorry from where she stood. "I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to straighten it out."
"You'd better."
He smiled then grabbed at handful of Floo powder, threw it in the fireplace and called, "Hermione Granger's flat" loudly.
"I'll see you tomorrow after the match," he said, giving her a hug. "And just think on the bright side," he said just before she stepped in, causing her to stop and turn around to look at him.
"What possible bright side could there be to this?" she asked with a scoff (though she waited for the answer).
"No one on the team can talk to anyone before so my mum won't find out until after the match."
Hermione paled at the mention of his mother and sent him a look that she wished shot daggers before stepping into the Floo and disappearing, mumbling about boys and their bloody friends.
