Email: parsleynsage@hotmail.com


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Summary: Oliver Wood.  Who the hell is Oliver Wood? No one in the wizarding community hasn't heard of this man since his surprising graduation from Hogwarts in 1996, much to the dismay of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.  He needs to be found, but why? and who can handle the task?   

AN: So now that you've been introduced to Charlie and Wills I want to welcome you to Chapter two! did you like chapter one? did you review? if you didn't get your booty back there and do so!

look for: Hermione, why harry is gone, Arthur weasley, and ron

Chapter Two

we'll make tomorrow a sick day

            "Hello?" Hermione whispered into her cell phone.  The line had gone dead.  She'd been hung up on again.  That made the third time in two hours, definitely a record for the curly-haired girl.

            "That was rude," muttered the wizard that was sitting next to her.  His long twisted mustaches hung below his bushy muttonchops.

            Hermione smiled, touched that someone was willing to defend her against the mean caller, "I guess they just weren't expecting my call."

            The old man turned to her with a dark expression, "I was talking about you, young lady.  You have the audacity to use that Muggle inspired contraption in the presence of a classically trained wizard."

            Not sure what to do with herself, Hermione shoved her phone back into her purse and jumped out of her seat as her name was called.  She approached the small desk cluttered with important scrolls and parchments. 

            The woman behind the desk perched on the edge of the overstuffed leather chair.  Her hands flew over the Muggle looking computer, and her eyes flickered to  Hermione's face before she broke into a smile.

            "Good afternoon, Agnes."

            The secretary grimaced, "No good afternoons for me this week, Miss Granger.  But thanks anyways.  How's Ron been doing since the last time he came into visit his father?"

            Hermione smiled, the mention of Ron always brought a curious look to Agnes' face.  She couldn't help but love the boy, but ws disappointed that he didn't come into see his 'poor overworked, underpaid and underappreciated father' more often. 

            "Ron was good when I saw him digging into a huge bowl of Sugar Crispiness and the most chocolate chip pancakes I have ever seen."

            Agnes nodded, and looked as if she'd forgotten what she was going to say next, "Oh, right.  The Minister wanted to see you immediately."

            Hermione nodded and as she stepped through the door she could hear the old wizard saying, "I've been waiting for a good hour!"

            "Calm down," Agnes responded, "That's Hermione Granger."

            She shut the door before she heard the old man's response.  No one over the age of sixty knew who she was, but that didn't matter to her.  Fame hadn't gotten to her head in the last three years and now wasn't any time to start.

            "Sit down," the Minister said without turning around.

            The young witch did as she was told, and looked about the room while waiting for the Minister to finish doing whatever it was he was busy with.  The room was busting full photos of the Minister's children, all of who had a stunning resemblance to him.  The largest and most animated picture was that of his son's graduation, taken some two years earlier.  The young wizard's hair and Gryffindor robes were wiping about him in a strong wind.  His best friends stood on either side of him, the girl shielding her eyes against the sun, and the slightly shorter boy staring intently in her direction.

            "Take it," came the soft voice of Arthur Weasley.

            "What?" Hermione asked, her concentration on the photograph broken.  In the last year everything associated the Trio had been offered to her, photographs, articles, yearbooks, letters, and even very personal belongings. 

            Arthur looked at the young woman across the desk.  From his position of Minister, which he had received shortly after Ron's graduation, he had been able to keep a watchful eye on Hermione.  But there were few opportunities for their schedules to work out so that they could speak outside the stipulations of boss to worker.

            "I've tried to give that to you every time you've entered my office in last few months.  It would do more use in the apartment than it is on my desk, besides look how many pictures of the three of you I am surrounded by already," the Minister said chuckling.

            Hermione managed a weak laugh though she didn't find it all that funny, "Are you sure you don't mind?"

            As soon as Arthur had nodded the picture was already in Hermione's bulging brief case.  The older man smiled and folded his hands in preparation in the serious words he was getting ready to say.

            "Would you like some water?" he asked her.

            She shook her head.

            He made another futile attempt at stalling and continued when Hermione explained she was pressed for time as it was, "As you most likely have assumed, I have asked you here to discuss a serious matter."

            Hermione continued nodding and looked at her watch.

            "It's about Harry."

            Ron searched his pockets once again for his keys, cursing quite loudly when he had to resort to finding the hidden key.  He and Harry had stupidly placed Hermione in charge of hiding the key when they'd all moved in, and the only one he'd ever been able to find was under the fern pot.  He was desperate and lifted the pot to find the very thing he'd been searching for.

            The key slipped into the lock he'd greased himself a few days before but was stubborn to turn.  Slamming his whole bulk behind the key he managed to turn it enough to shove the door open.  He slipped in and immediately emptied his pockets, threw his keys onto the foyer table and proceeded to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes.

            Ron tugged at his tie and dress shit collar.  Most of his Hogwarts classmates would have paid money to ever see him or his brothers in a coat and tie once in their lives, much less day in and day out.  The success of Fred and George's prank business had done so well since their graduation, that Ron was now the managing director of the London branch.  The other two Weasley boys had taken out an early pension and were traveling somewhere in Europe at the moment, putting more pressure on Ron and Ginny (who was using company to pay her way through a medical program in South Kensington) than there had ever been before.

            Before he made it to his room, Ron heard the sniffles of his roommate.  He had soon crossed the space between them and was sitting on the floor beside Hermione's body wracked with sobs.

            "I was wondering how long you were going to hold up," Ron said as she pried the picture frame out of her hands and offered her a clean pressed handkerchief.

            "He'd laugh if he could see us like this," she mumbled through sobs, "You in a suit and me crying on the floor."

            Ron tried to laugh, "Harry wouldn't expect any less."

            Hermione looked at him sideways, "I think we'd best get on with it.  I already called the newspaper with the ad for tomorrow's edition."

            "I thought you were going to think about it longer."          

            "I've decided that we should at least have another roommate in the house,  to keep us from falling into a disastrous heap a few days out of the year."

            Ron nodded, "You know that we'll have people crawling through the window to get a chance at that flat space, don't you?"

            She nodded, "That's what scares me.  I'm afraid that we'll end up living with some clepto or someone—"

            "Someone, what?"

            "Someone who reminds me of Harry."

            "Me, too."

            Hermione moved closer to Ron and hugged him fiercely about the waist, "You don't think Ginny would want to move in with us do you?"

            Ron shook his head, "She's just now got her life back, you know that.  Dragging her in here with us would be torture."

            Hermione clung tighter about his middle.  The audible sobs had stopped but she was still crying and soon the tears had made a small trail down the front of his dark shirt.

            "I say we order some Greek food, watch any chick film you want to, and call in sick tomorrow," Ron suggested as he helped Hermione onto the couch and covered her with a blanket.

            She smiled in agreement, "If you promise to fill my glass with the best bottle of whatever you brought home."

            "I never forget."

            "Sick day tomorrow?" Hermione yelled at Ron who'd gone in search of the wine he'd brought home the day before.

            "Of course. Have you seen the bottle I bought this week?" he called back.

            "Was it a cognac?"

            "I think so."

            "I already made my way through that and the last bit of Jack Daniels."

            "But the cognac was unopened and we'd only had a glass of the Daniels."

            "I know."

            Ron sighed and picked up his keys again, "I'll have to go out for more then."

            "Whatever you need to do, just get something to me!"

            Ron laughed, "Tomorrow will definitely be a sick day."

Author's Note

            Maybe that's a little confusing, but: Mr. Weasley is the minister (he deserves it after all his years of service), Ron, Harry, and Hermione lived together but they're now looking for a roommate to replace mr. potter, and Hermione hasn't told ron about her conversation with his dad.

            DUN FUN DUN!

            rightio, review as usual and I'll get the third chapter up tomorrow, I promise! love and kisses to all my sparkle city gals! Rachel, kudos to my raja and dean-hating buddy!

                                                annie