Chapter Six… 'Hermione's House'

Hermione arrived home in her fireplace, panting for air and covered in all the Floo powder gone wrong. She had practically thrown herself into the fire place at the Grand Hall and nearly ended up in a completely different house.

She raced out of the chimney and straight into the first room, the lounge area. Hermione froze in shock.

Every single item she owned was either lying on the floor, shattered or gone. Hermione vaguely recorded that Harry and Ron were standing in the corner just watching her reaction but the rest of her was thrown into a cycle of devastation.

"Oh my…" she breathed heavily, trying to take it all in.

Hermione had never had a whole lot of stuff, living off the wages she got from the Nicholsons but she had had a number of special heirlooms and favourite possessions. Whoever had done this however hadn't left much behind. As she paced through each room of the house she found that everything from her mother's pearls to her set of gold writing quills had been stolen.

Finally, she turned around and faced Harry and Ron who had till this moment been standing there in silence not really knowing what to say.

"Why?" was all she said before running towards them and grabbing them both in a huge bear hug where she couldn't even find the emotions for tears.

"It's okay," whispered Harry as he stroked her hair and Ron nervously tried to pat her on the back.

After awhile she let go and sunk in a pile in the middle of the lounge room floor. "Thanks Harry, Ron… would you mind if you left? I just need to be alone."

"Sure," they replied, gathering their jackets and leaving through the fireplace. "Take care Herms and send us an owl if you need anything…"

All she could do was nod before the realisation of it all hit her and she became overwhelmed by tears.

* * * * *

Oliver meanwhile had gone home to his empty, dark house still clutching onto Hermione's shoe. For some reason this night had really captured him and Hermione was all he could think about. He considered sending her an owl but decided against it as he didn't want to intervene in her already very hectic life.

He ran his fingers up and down the point of the shoe. It was a pretty shoe, he really liked it. However he liked it more when Hermione had been wearing it. Oliver sighed. There was really no use thinking about her now. He could pretty much bet on the fact that she wasn't thinking about him right now… she would be far more concerned with more important things, like her home for example.

He continued to fight off the urge to contact her. Trying to take his mind off their awkward dancing and her pretty smile, he went to his cupboard and sorted through a pile of clothes until he placed his hand on his broomstick. Pulling it out and waving away all the dust, he sighed. It had been a very long time since he'd ridden it.

* * * * *

It was dark outside but Oliver had always enjoyed the thrill of riding at night time. It gave him a buzz of adrenalin just knowing that he was taking a risk and living dangerously.

He slid up onto the broom handle like a pro and shifted his weight until he found his riding stance again. He wondered how long it had been since the broomstick had seen air? Maybe two years? Three even?

Oliver tried not to drudge up the memories but eventually, as he lifted off the soft ground he couldn't help but think about Tasha and all the things she did.

The feeling of soaring through the air felt similar to drinking water after being parched for days. His body felt complete and rejuvenated. Oliver began to wonder why he had forced himself to stop. However deep down inside, he knew exactly why.

Tasha had been the first girl Oliver had really been in love with. He remembered the first time they met, at a local Quidditch game in Devon. Oliver had been visiting relatives and he had asked a stunning looking girl for directions to their house. She not only given him directions but taken him there too. Along the short walk, he had fallen in love right away with her.

Since then he had visited Tasha every two weeks. It was exhausting but in Oliver's eyes, worth every second. He couldn't stand being away from her and he believed she felt the same. He loved every single piece of her from a long, dark hair to her big brown eyes and perfect smile.

The more he thought about her as he soared through the clouds, the more it hurt him.

Tasha had been a mad Quidditch fan too and definitely good on a broomstick. She always gave Oliver a run for his money though she was more a Chaser than a Keeper.

Everything had been perfect until one day… they'd been flying and a sudden storm emerged. Well not even Tasha could have predicted the lightning that shot down nearby, shaking the entire area, making her lose her concentration until she… fell.

Oliver winced remembering. The doctors said she died on impact but he couldn't take their word. He just hoped she hadn't felt any pain.

Since that day, he hadn't set a foot near his broom. It was just too horrible to remember.

Now, however, he felt free. He felt her presence constantly but he knew she would want him to move on and be happy. He had lived in pain for three years now and he knew it was time to say good bye to Tasha. She'd always be in his memories but he couldn't let her run his life any more. He was still so young and now, perhaps this was a chance for him to start over.

"Good bye Tasha," Oliver said out loud, as he flew over the apple orchards that they'd always enjoyed hovering over.

Somewhere, inside of him, he heard her say 'good bye'.