Title: Save Me

Summary: Oliver needs help. Who better to ask than the once smartest witch? Futurefic.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, just the plot and any characters that you don't recognise.

A/N: there's no excuse, I know, I haven't updated in forever. Thing is, I've been having trouble with my wrist (deterioration) and well basically it just sucks because I can't type for a long time. Plus I've been on the couch for about three months, something to do with my ankle. And no, I didn't have a laptop. Sigh. Well, that actually IS an excuse. Anyway I'm back now and today is all about the updates so please review!

"You're what? Great...just great...now who will help me!"

"Help you? You were sent here so I could help you?"

Oliver nodded.

"Can I come in? It's a long story..."

Hermione sighed. If her mother would find out Oliver was a wizard –and by the look of his clothes she certainly would – she'd be grounded forever.

"Of course...but you'll need to wear Muggle clothing...if my mom finds you like this..."

Oliver nodded again, before waving his wand and making the doorstep disappear so he could wheel himself into the room.

"What happened?"

Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Blackmail. People wanted me to forge the games. I wouldn't. They smashed my knees..."

"Couldn't the healers at St. Mungo's heal it?"

Hermione walked towards her room, grabbing some clothes that had once belonged to her father and she couldn't let go off. She walked back into the livingroom and saw Oliver trying to pull his shirt over his head. Obviously he was in pain, because he winced and barely was able to suppress a moan. Hermione could see why. There was a big gash in his upper arm that had been clumsily bandaged. She stepped towards him, slowly pulling his shirt over the wound.

Damn, did Oliver Wood have a nice body. Quidditch sure was good exercise. She had always found him attractive, but seeing him without his shirt on, whoah. She blushed slightly, pulling her fathers' sweater over his head.

"No they couldn't"

Oliver finally answered after he had done a resizingspell on the clothing. He sat himself down on the couch and magically shrunk his wheelchair.

"Or rather...they wouldn't..."

He looked at Hermione.

"The point is, whoever bashed in my knees and crucio'ed me...it was just a warning. They sent me another letter after that, saying that I better cooperate and make someone else forge the games...or else..."

He swallowed.

"Or else they'll kill you"

Hermione simply stated. Oliver nodded once again.

"Dumbledore said I needed protection. Good protection. He knows about you. I mean, he knows you left Hogwarts and he assumed you were living as a Muggle. For both our sakes he said it was best if I went to you. People won't know where I am."

"Why can't you stay with other people? Like...Ron or Harry? The twins? They're all very good at magic...at least they were when I was still at Hogwarts..."

"Oh"

Hermione looked up at Olivers' soft gasp.

"What?"

"Harry is in St Mungo's now. Killing Voldemort made him go insane."

"And Ron and the twins? Ginny? Neville?"

Oliver shook his head.

"All dead. The battle was gigantic. Huge losses on both sides. We eventually won, though Harry's sanity went with Voldemort."

"So...I am the only one who can protect you?"

Hermione's voice trembled. It barely registered. Her friends. All dead.

"Yea"

Review please!

A/N: Sorry short chapter but my wrist hurts like hell!