All right, so, I honestly don't have any excuses that are good enough for you guys. I'm so freaking sorry for the extreme lateness of this chapter. My summer was super busy, but now that school's back and rolling I think I'll be back on track. Please forgive me. I love you all.


Hermione gazed up at Oliver as she fell into step with him as they walked to Flitwick's classroom. "So," she began calmly, "what seems to be the trouble when you run detention? Do the students not like you, not listen to you, you can't control them, or something along those lines?"

Oliver shrugged and quickly ran his hand through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. "How about all of the above? They all seem to hate me except for this creepy sixth yeah Hufflepuff who seems to be obsessed with me." Oliver faked a dramatic shiver.

Hermione chuckled. "It's probably just a school girl crush. It's no big deal, we've all had them."

Oliver's eyebrows rose. "Oh? And would you happen to be a part of this 'we'?"

Hermione huffed and looked at Oliver uncomfortably. "I suppose I do…." Hermione said, not knowing where the conversation was heading and not knowing whether she wanted it to head there or not.

"Hmm, and who, may I ask, was your 'school girl crush'?" Oliver questioned, his voice spiked with curiosity.

Hermione looked away quickly. "You know what, that really doesn't matter. It was so long ago, I don't even know if I remember who it was," Hermione stated plainly while quickening her pace.

Oliver wasn't convinced. "I think you do. Plus, you said that it doesn't matter much so it shouldn't bother you to share. Come on, who was it?" He grabbed her arm, stopping her and turning her to face him.

Hermione wiggled out of Oliver's grip before stammering, "Hey, aren't we going to be late?" She then quickly rushed away without waiting for an answer.

Oliver frowned to himself before shouting, "I'll get you to tell me eventually," while dashing after her.

Oliver and Hermione walked in on many teens spread across the room speaking loudly to each other. Oliver huffed in frustration before announcing roughly, "Shut up and sit down," his Scottish accented voice laced with anger and impatience.

The students shuffled over to the desks and reluctantly sat down while mumbling miscellaneous and sometimes inappropriate things in response.

"This, students, is Hermione Granger. She has come to help me control you children," Oliver explained.

He heard a few rude things murmured like, "Merlin knows that he needs the help" and "Children? I'm 16! He's only a few years older than me!". But the one that stuck out most was: "Is she your girlfriend?" It was the annoying Hufflepuff from the last detention. Her face was red, her blonde hair mussed, and her voice coated with jealousy.

"Wha—Hermoine? No. We're just really good friends, that's all. Right, Hermione?" Oliver said, trying to stay as calm as possible.

"Uh—yeah, sure. We're friends. Nothing more." Hermione nodded in confirmation.

"You see? Now, this detention is going to be a bit different the last one. There will be no leaving, no fighting, no leaving your seat, and absolutely no talking. For those of you who weren't in the last session of detention, I'm sorry, but these are the rules for everyone. All right? Does everyone understand me?" When he saw the nods, Oliver announced, "Excellent. Detention officially commences now. And remember, I don't want to hear a peep out of any of you," he finished with an accusing finger scanning the students. Unlike last time, there was complete silence. Oliver nodded happily, glad that he was listened to for once, while Hermione shook her head.

"I can tell why they like you so much," Hermione muttered so that only Oliver could hear with a smirk on her face.

Oliver turned slightly towards Hermione and whispered in response, "I wasn't like this last time. I learned my lesson, though. No more 'Mister Nice Guy'."

Hermione snorted. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Stop it. You're almost as bad as them."

Hermione shook her head again, moving over to Flitwick's desk with Oliver in tow, and sat down in Flitwick's chair. "They're just teenagers. Some are even my age. They shouldn't be too hard to control."

Oliver leaned against the desk and shook his head in response. "They just don't seem to respect me. I think it's because I'm so much closer to their age than any of the other teachers."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the desk in thought. "That would make sense. They're all used to teachers who are practically old enough to be their grandparents. Maybe since you only graduated a few years ago, they don't see you as a figure of authority, more like a friend."

Oliver chortled bitterly. "Friend? More like enemy. Hermione, these kids hate me. I've tried to be their friend, it didn't work out very well," he said while gazing at the bored, angry, frustrated teens.

Hermione looked up at Oliver suddenly with a look of realization. "That's it. You're a teacher, Oliver, you shouldn't be trying to be their friend, that's not what you're here for. You're here as an instructor, someone who helps, a guide to their future. You're not here to be their mate, you're here to lead them," she finished with satisfaction.

Oliver grunted in anger, positive that what Hermione said didn't resolve any of his qualms. "Hermione, I teach first years how to fly a broom. I don't teach most of the kids in this class. Hell, I'm only a few years older than most of the students in this class. I don't know how to handle them like the rest of the teachers do. I don't even feel like I fit in with the teachers. They treat me like a student still and they don't trust me enough with responsibilities. Frankly, I was shocked when McGonagall gave me this job, as were most of the other teachers. They don't trust me enough. I don't even trust myself." Oliver hung his head in frustration. He was glad that he found someone who he could talk to and finally let his worries and insecurities out. Oliver was glad that he could confide in her.

Hermione slowly rose from her chair and took Oliver's hand, causing him to look up at her. "I had no idea that you felt that way. Most of the teachers who made you feel this way probably had no idea, either. You should tell them."

Oliver looked away again. "Yeah, and make me sound like a little school girl feeling like she doesn't fit in. I don't think so. You know, telling people how you feel doesn't solve everything, Hermione," Oliver said aggressively in a way that Hermione had never heard him speak, especially to her. "Do you tell everyone how you feel all the time?"

Hermione closed her eyes, looking unsettled, while saying in a small voice, "Not always."

Oliver nodded in satisfaction. "Exactly. Sometimes the situation isn't right for a clear confession. Plus, sometimes when you do confess how you feel, you turn out looking like an idiot and you regret that you ever said anything," Oliver said, his voice still angry.

Hermione slowly looked up at Oliver without fully raising her head. "But you can never know if it will turn out well. Sometimes you just need to confide in someone and see what happens, like you just did with me."

Oliver's eyes softened as well as his voice. "You're right. I've always had issues with learning to trust someone easily. For me, it takes a while for me to be able to confide in someone like I just did with you. It's strange how quickly I've come to trust you. I feel like I can tell you anything."

Hermione smiled sweetly, squeezing the hand that she still held. "You can. I'm happy that you trust me that much because I feel the same way about you."

Oliver smirked as an idea arose. "Oh, really? If you can tell me anything, how about you share who your school girl crush was?"

Hermione frowned. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

Oliver's eyebrows kneaded together in confusion. "I honestly don't know. I suppose I'm just curious who little Hermione Granger had her eyes on when she peeped up at him while pretending to read her many books in the library." Oliver grinned.

Hermione made a slight noise of disbelief. "I did not peep, as you say, I was truly reading."

"All right, then who was the lad who caught your eye across the dining hall where whenever he caught you looking you would suddenly be captivated by whatever was on your plate in front of you?" Oliver asked, chuckling throughout the question.

Hermione folded her arms. "I most certainly did not stare at boys while dining."

Oliver sighed, still smiling. "Fine, who was the strapping you fellow where at Quiddich games you honestly didn't care about the outcome, you only cared about the one player who captured your attention?"

Hermione froze. He unknowingly was right. He caught her, but she did her best to make sure that he didn't notice. "I hardly ever went to Quiddich games. The only one's I went to were Harry's," Hermione said shakily.

Oliver raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You didn't deny it, though. So, was it someone on the Gryffindor team, then?"

Hermione's eyes averted from Oliver. "Uh, no?" she answered, making her insecurity obvious to Oliver.

"I think it was. Who was it, then? One of the twins? Harry, himself?" Oliver continued, pushing the matter further.

Hermione shook her head repeatedly. "No, none of those. Why do you want to know so badly, anyway?" Hermione asked, this time putting Oliver on the spot.

"I don't; I'm simply curious."

Hermione smirked. "You know, curiosity's what killed the cat. I think that you actually care about who I used to crush on in the old days."

Oliver cackled. "The 'old days'? What are you, fifty? And, I don't know why, but I really would like to know."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Fine. If you'd really like to know, it was Marcus Flint. I could never take my eyes off his luscious unibrow or his uneven, gaping teeth, and his deep, harsh, cruel voice just made me swoon."

Oliver's expression began rough but soon became an expression of disproving when he realized that she was merely joking.

"Hermione…." he began.

"Fine, fine. I'll tell you." Hermione lowered her voice even more from her previous whisper. "It was you."

Oliver opened and closed his mouth several times before finally sputtering, "Me? What? When? How? Why?"

Hermione blushed and nodded slightly while fixing her gaze on just about anything but Oliver. "Yeah, I just… When I was younger I always—"

"Um, excuse me, but I thought this was supposed to be a silent detention, and with other teachers, the rule applies to them, too," a snobby seventh year Slitherin announced loudly.

Hermione and Oliver looked at the students for the first time since their conversation began.

Oliver nodded in affirmation and conjured up a chair to sit next Hermione. "Right you are. Carry on with your silence."

Hermione looked down at her hands, playing with her fingers and didn't even bother to look up when Oliver leaned over to her and muttered, "Don't think you're off the hook with this. We'll finish this conversation later." She was having difficulties hiding the blush and she couldn't help but feel like she was in trouble when Oliver said that to her in that way.

Throughout the remainder of the detention, Hermione hardly ever acknowledged Oliver, whereas Oliver examined Hermione and didn't even bother hiding it. He couldn't make sense of the feeling of happiness and relief that, of all the people in Hogwarts, when Hermione was younger, and still utterly brilliant, she had a crush on him. School girl crush or not, it still counted. He inwardly smiled to himself at the thought.

As soon as the bell rang, everyone in the room shot up and bolted towards the door, including Hermione. Oliver was left in Flitwick's classroom alone, confused, and sad, yet happy. He couldn't wait to interrogate her at their next lesson and finally get some answers.


Please review!

Love you!