A/N: Hello all! Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! I'm shocked and elated to see you guys posting multiple reviews so thank you so very much :)

Seriously though, so many others are alerting whereas only a handful of you (for which I am eternally grateful) are reviewing! Although I'm grateful for the alerts, it'd be brilliant if some of you could review! Does this fanfic really suck that badly?! What am I doing wrong here?! xP

Anyway, I apologize for not having time to work on this piece…life has been rather hectic. Hopefully this doesn't disappoint! I might as well let you know that Oliver won't show his gorgeous self until next chapter! Sorry!

I

Hermione had apparated into Diagon Alley with a loud crack, startling a group of adolescents that had been peering into the window of a nearby broom shop. "Excuse me…" she murmured as she walked past them, tucking her wand back into the pocket of the traveling cloak she had slipped on before leaving. She ignored their excited whispers as their group drew closer together murmuring things along the lines of "Its Hermione Granger!". The idea of fame and the problems it would pose were she to become officially involved with a certain quidditch star was entirely unappealing at the moment and she increased her pace, longing desperately to be far from their enthusiastic jeers and apparent recognition of who she was.

The morning sun filtered through the multicolored awnings that hung over the shop windows, casting brilliantly hued shadows upon Hermione's face as she reached for the door that read, in neat engraved handwriting upon a beveled plaque, "The Daily Prophet". She could barely believe it had been a mere three days since she had last entered the office and grudgingly accepted what she had seen then as a rather boring job. How wrong she had been. How dreadfully clueless to the fact that the assignment was one that would monumentally shift the course of her life.

"Ms. Granger?" A surprised Mr. Cuffe exclaimed from his office as he sighted her curly brown haired head through his doorway. She turned in time to see him fumbling out of his chair and rising to his feet, walking rapidly towards her and shaking her hand vigorously. "Your article was an absolute hit. Whether thats a result of your brilliant writing or your name…well," Barnabus chuckled, "I suppose we'll never know. But no matter, you're in demand and we've got loads of letters from some of your fans." He motioned towards a ludicrously tall stack of letters that were piled precariously on the edge of a table adjacent to his desk."I think it'd be good to respond to a few, don't you?" He added.

Hermione grimaced as her eyes raked the pile. She entered his office and slipped her finger under the wax seal of the first envelope she picked up. A large black and white picture of Harry Potter, which she recognized from the front page of the newspaper that had been released the day after he had defeated Voldemort, fell out onto the floor. Attached to the picture was a short note scribbled in messy cursive:

Hermione Granger!

So glad to see you back in the wizarding community.

Does that mean you're still in contact with THE Harry Potter?

If so, please extend my utmost gratitude and if you'd be so kind,

please have him sign this picture. I'd really appreci--

Hermione had stopped reading it, tucking the note and picture back into the envelope. "Mr. Cuffe, I really don't mean to offend but I'm quite positive that most of these letters are related to my celebrity, or rather, Harry's, rather than my article."

"Exactly!" Barnabus responded enthusiastically as he shot a hovering spell at the pile of letters, directing them neatly into a canvas sack. "So if you'd be so kind, Mr. Granger, to compose a short, general response to all the letters, I'd be much obliged."

"Sir…I came to work here as a reporter, not simply 'Harry Potter's best friend'" she traced quotation marks in the air with the last phrase, trying with all her might to guise the annoyance in her voice and she wished unexplainably to be back at Oliver's flat, where life was easier and the name "Hermione" was only her name and not a title.

Her editor's face fell and his eyebrows knit together, "Ms. Granger, if you so wish to work here as an employee rather than a celebrity you will do what you are told." His last few words were delivered with undisguised menace and, realizing that this was her source of income and that she had rent to pay at the Leaky Cauldron, she angrily yanked the sack of letters into her arms. She spat out an clipped "Fine" then rushed out the door, pushing it so violently away from her that it swung back and forth after she had left for a solid minute, as if it were waving goodbye to her retreating figure.

…

II

"That little rat!" Hermione huffed to herself as she entered the Leaky Cauldron, dumping the sack of letters next to the coat rack.

"Threatening me with my job? Really, you think he'd be more of a professional!"

To her surprise, Harry and Ron were seated comfortably at one of the booths, each with a foaming cup of butterbeer in his hand. "Hello to you too, Hermione!" Ron stated with a slight laugh. Shock flitted across her face for a moment before a wide smile took its place, "Oh Ron! and Harry!" She rushed over to their table and gave them both small hugs before seating herself beside Harry. "How did you guys know I'd be back?" "Well we asked that Cuffe bloke when you'd be back." Ron began, "We were under the impression that you'd be gone for an hour or so… We were right surprised when it dragged on for two days." Hermione fought back a blush and sighed lightly, "Yes… well, I'm sorry to have kept you two waiting. I really should have owled…"

She bit her lip and averted her gaze from the two men, before Harry broke the ice stating a short, "Don't worry about it Hermione. How'd it go?" Hermione paused before responding, choosing her words carefully so as not to immediately give the fact that she was potentially in love with Harry's former captain away. "It went well, actually. Less boring than I'd expected…"

Tom, the barkeeper and landlord of the Leaky Cauldron had dropped a glass of butter beer off for Hermoine without a word and tottered off, "Thank you" Hermione called out, and he simple nodded his head in response. She took a small sip from the glass. Might as well say it…she told herself and considered how to approach the subject. "Harry, I'm not sure if you read the article, but your former quidditch captain was there. My article was on him and another up and coming player," she mentioned off-handedly, avoiding Oliver's name for fear of blushing.

"Oliver Wood?" Harry said, surprised. His reaction made it evident that he had not read the article and, seeing that he had given himself away he stated, "Sorry, Hermione, I…I'll make sure to read it as soon as possible. But blimey! Oliver! How is he? What's he been up to?"

Hermione instantly regretted mentioning it as she felt herself blush deeply. "Erm, yes. Wood."

Ron noted her sudden wariness with suspicion. "What happened?" He asked in a tone that was verging on protective.

"Nothing happened, Ronald. I was simply mentioning to Harry that--"

"Nothing doesn't take three days, now, does it?" Ron said with a satisfied smirk, knowing he had her cornered.

"Well good writing does, Ron. Sadly you never realized that at Hogwarts!"

He ran a hand through his red hair and shrugged, now addressing Harry. "I dunno, mate. She seems suspicious to me."

Harry eyed her now brilliantly red cheeks and nodded in agreement, "Alright Hermione, let it out. Whats going on between you and Oliver?"

"Nothing!" She repeated, her eyes obviously regretful for having brought it up.

Harry sighed, "So if I go down to the Puddlemere pitch and ask dear Oliver about the witch that came by and interviewed him he'll have nothing to say on the topic?"

Hermione's eyes turned to slits, "You wouldn't."

Ron laughed, "You've basically admitted it 'Mione. Just tell us or we'll assume the absolute worst."

She shot a disgusted look at Ron, knowing his definition of the 'absolute worst' was probably loads worse than anything she could concoct.

"Fine." she repeated for the second time that day and said in a rushed tone that made it barely understandable, "Oliver Wood and I may or may not fancy one another but I refuse to say anything more on the subject."

Ron and Harry stared at her for a moment then began laughing, surprised at her having confirmed their suspicions. "Blimey Hermione! Whats up you with you and quidditch players?!" Ron said between laughs as her blush grew a deeper shade of red. "What do you mean?" she asked angrily. "Well think about it. First Krum, then Wood? You do seem a bit predictable."

Hermione's heart fell, "I--I hadn't thought of that."

Harry laughed, "Wait till the Prophet hears about this."

"I WORK for the Prophet!" She retorted.

"Even more of a scandal!" Ron laughed, taking a swig of butter beer, "To put it crudely, you two are in deep dragon dung." Ron added, still chuckling.

The three of them fell into silence after Harry and Ron stopped laughing at the idea of the tabloid storm about to hit Hermione and Oliver and then Harry's true shock became apparent. "Well…I never saw that coming."

Ron nodded in agreement, "You'd think their obsessions with quidditch and books would sort of clash, no?"

Hermione shot him a look then simply said "Maybe we're passionate people?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Don't let anyone at the office hear you saying that Hermione."

Hermione groaned and leaned back in her chair, "Merlin's pants, what have I got myself into."

And as Tom came around to collect their now empty glasses, Hermione requested the Leaky Cauldron's largest glass of FireWhiskey.

__________

R&R loves!