Chapter 1.
Hermione entered her dorm room and smiled softly at the sight of the two cats curled up together on her bed. Her huge ginger tom Crookshanks finally had a girlfriend it seemed. This was the third day on the trot that she had found him snuggled up against the smaller female cat.
She was a sleek shorthaired white cat with faint, light grey stripes across her back, grey paws and grey ears. Her eyes were bright blue, she was altogether gorgeous and Hermione had no idea who she belonged to. She wasn't sure how she had missed this beautiful feline before because she was truly striking.
She really didn't want to disturb the slumbering pair but she needed to find her owner. Hermione fervently prayed that whoever the owner was had had the pretty cat spayed because they seemed extremely cozy and Crookshanks was still perfectly capable of becoming a Daddy.
She sat down on the bed hoping that the cat would allow her to pick her up. To her surprise both cats immediately made their way onto her lap, butting their heads against her hands in an attempt to get her to stroke them.
"You are a lovely little thing aren't you?" she told the female as she scratched her ears.
A little later she picked her up and headed out of her dorm room with Crookshanks hot on her heels. She entered the Gryffindor common room with the cat still in her arms to find it relatively peaceful for a change. The Weasley twins were obviously still at Quidditch practice.
She headed over to Head Boy Percy Weasley who was helping his little sister Ginny with her History of Magic homework.
"Hello Percy. Hi Ginny. Do either of you know who this gorgeous cat belongs to?" she asked them.
"She's Oliver's" Percy replied without preamble, and then he looked down and spotted Crookshanks circling Hermione's legs and his eyes lit up in understanding.
"I'm not surprised that she and Crookshanks have hooked up you know, she's half Kneazle too. I don't know whether she's been spayed or not though. Oliver should still be down on the Quidditch pitch if you wanted a word with him about her." He continued.
'Bugger' Hermione thought. The last person she wanted to deal with was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Not only had she had a crush on the gorgeous seventh year for a long while, but she'd also had a huge row with him not two days before.
Two days before
Hermione stood on the Quidditch pitch and watched the stretcher with Harry on it until it was out of sight and sat down heavily on the bench outside the Gryffindor changing rooms, her shaky legs no longer able to hold her upright.
Harry had fallen a massive forty feet from his broom and had been hit once again half way to the floor by the Bludger that had knocked him off of his broom in the first place. It had only been thanks to Hermione's quick thinking and mastery of the levitation spell that had her best friend hadn't hit the floor with a sickening crunch.
She was entirely sure that Draco Malfoy was yet again responsible for the rogue Bludger. Honestly, for all that the Slytherins were sneaky they obviously weren't very imaginative.
She was still sitting, shaken up by the afternoon's events when the Weasley twins emerged form the changing rooms. She didn't notice them and continued to stare sightlessly out onto the pitch that Harry had nearly died on not half an hour before.
The twins shared a look of concern before Fred sat down beside her while George crouched down in front of her.
"You alright there Hermione?" George asked her softly. Her vision refocused and she was shocked to find that the twins had settled beside and in front of her without her even noticing.
"Oh hi, sorry I didn't even notice you there." She confessed.
"Where is the rest of the team?" she asked.
"The girls have already gone up to the infirmary to check on Harry and Wood's trying to drown himself in the showers again. We tried to get him to come out and see Harry with us but he's not budging." Fred explained.
All of a sudden all of Hermione's lingering fear vanished and she was left with a raging fury. She rose from the bench and to the twin's utter shock stormed straight into the changing rooms! The twins took one shocked look at each other and ran after her.
The hiss of the shower told her that Oliver was still in there and she stomped straight into the boy's showers without a second thought.
Oliver was leaning his forehead against the wall with the water from the showerhead streaming down his well muscled bare back when Hermione found him. She stopped short for a moment at the very enticing sight before her, but her anger soon overrode her lustful thoughts.
"I'd like a word when you've finished feeling sorry for yourself." She told him calmly, not noticing or caring that the twins had caught up with her and were trying to get her attention.
She was far too calm as far as Fred and George were concerned. Especially considering the sixteen-year-old girl they thought of as their sister was talking to their butt naked captain who was two years her senior and something of a Hogwarts heartthrob.
Both of them were wondering just what Hermione had been up to that allowed their little brother's bookworm best friend to be so comfortable around naked men. It was a worrying thought.
The only thing that could have stunned Oliver more than finding a very pissed off Hermione Granger standing just outside of the showers reach, demanding to speak to him was if Snape had entered the showers wearing a thong bikini and declared his undying love for him. In his embarrassment he scrambled to cover himself with a towel and regain some of his dignity.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh please. It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before."
Oliver gaped almost comically before finally exclaiming; "But you're barely sixteen!"
Hermione was unfortunately too angry to appreciate what a humorous picture he made. The twins however were not, chuckling none too discreetly George and Fred both noticed the odd expression he wore upon hearing what Hermione said.
His face was contorted in a mixture of disbelief and what appeared to be fury. George could only wonder as to why Oliver would appear so angry at the idea of Hermione being experienced enough to have seen naked men before.
"Ginny isn't the only one with male siblings you know. Well technically Nate isn't my brother because he's adopted, not that that makes any difference and Daniel isn't my brother he's my uncle, but he's only eight years older than me and he's so immature you'd think he was younger. And I mean honestly how hard is to wrap a towel around yourself tight enough to stop it falling off half way down the hall anyway?" she rambled.
"Huh?" was pretty much all Oliver could manage; he was still too stunned at what Hermione had first told him about having seen more than one naked man.
All he'd picked up from her more recent ramblings was something about an adopted brother, a really immature uncle and towels that kept falling off. Truthfully he wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore.
"What I was trying to say was that you need to get your backside out of that shower and get up to the infirmary to see Harry right now. You know I've bitten my tongue so many times over the last four years that I'm surprised that I haven't bitten it off.
Harry was just a first year when he joined the team and he had no idea of what he was doing but you let him play anyway. Then in the second year he broke his arm after you told him to 'get the snitch or die trying'.
Third year you let him carry on playing even after his brush with the Dementors and this isn't the first time you've stayed down here drowning your sorrows over a lost match while Harry sits in the infirmary getting his injuries tended to and thinking that you blame him for the loss of the match.
Now get dressed and get up there and tell him that it's not his fault before I find a curse that will render you incapable of ever playing Quidditch again." She yelled at him before turning around and storming back out of the changing rooms.
Oliver, Fred and George stood staring after her in stunned silence for a good five minutes after she was gone, too shocked to do anything but gape at the doorway she'd left through.
Finally Fred said; "I think you'd better do as she said mate. Knowing her she probably really does know a curse that could stop you playing Quidditch."
Oliver nodded dumbly and a short while later he was dried, dressed and on his way to the infirmary.
When he got there Hermione was sat on the edge of Harry's bed laughing along with him at some joke Ron had just told them both. The rest of the team having been and gone, it was just Hermione, Ron and Harry's girlfriend Ginny left in the infirmary with him.
When she spotted the three older boys heading towards Harry's bed, Hermione quickly said her goodbyes and got up to leave.
As she and Oliver crossed paths he grabbed her arm to pull her closer and whispered something in her ear. Harry, Ron and Ginny could only gawp at them in confusion as Hermione looked up into the handsome seventh years face before nodding hesitantly and carrying on out of the infirmary after Oliver reluctantly released her.
"What was that all about?" Harry asked him as he finally reached his bed.
"Nothing much" Oliver grinned, "I was just asking Hermione if we could continue the discussion we were having earlier now that I'm a little better prepared for it."
Harry nodded though he was still confused, a confusion that was made no better when Fred and George started to snicker uncontrollably.
A while later after Ron and the twins had helped Harry finish off the chocolate frogs they had brought him and Oliver had assured him that the loss of the match was by no means his fault, Madam Pomfrey shooed them all out to let Harry get some rest.
They all headed back to Gryffindor tower and as he had insisted Hermione was waiting for Oliver in the common room, though she was unaware of his return thanks to the massive book she was reading.
He snatched the book out of her hands and unceremoniously tossed it onto the couch, eliciting an indignant squeak from her before hauling her up out of her seat and dragging her back out of the portrait hole with him.
"What exactly is going on between those two?" Ginny asked, turning to her older brothers.
"I think I'd like an answer to that too." Percy said as he approached them after witnessing Oliver's uncharacteristically aggressive behavior.
In all the years he had known the other seventh year he had never known him to be anything other than laid back about everything besides his Quidditch.
Fred and George exchanged a look before George said; "You'd need to ask them that, 'cause I'm not too sure myself."
Whilst their friends were still discussing his odd behavior Oliver was dragging Hermione through the corridors of Hogwarts, looking for an empty, unlocked classroom. As he rattled yet another handle Hermione finally lost her temper.
"If you'd kindly unhand me maybe I could help." She snapped. He let go of her arm and she tapped the door handle with her wand, whispering "Alohamora."
"I can't believe I didn't think of that." He said shaking his head as he pushed her into the classroom and shut the door behind him.
She crossed to the other side of the room and sat on the window ledge waiting for him to talk. He leaned on the classroom door, effectively blocking her escape and surveyed the little spitfire sat across from him.
Not many things made him lose his cool the way she had.
Normally he was one of the most calm, collected people going off of the Quidditch pitch, but something about Hermione just destroyed his normal composure, had done ever since she had saved their hides by charming Harry's glasses to repel the rain during a match in his fifth year and saved their hides if he were honest.
"Not only do I not appreciate being walked in on in the shower, but I don't think you're criticism was entirely fair." He told her finally.
"I apologize for barging in you." She replied. "I was angry and worried about Harry and I wasn't thinking, but you were being stupid and selfish." She finished crossly.
"I was not! I just happen to take Quidditch seriously." He replied.
"You don't say." She muttered sarcastically.
"There's nothing wrong with being focused on something. I would have thought that you of all people would have understood that. Besides Percy I've never met anyone as psycho about their school work as you are." He argued.
"Did you just call me psycho?" she asked, totally missing the point. "That's rich coming from someone as fanatical about Quidditch as you are!" she shouted at him as she tried to move him out of the way so she could get out of the door he was leaning against.
To her chagrin he wasn't budging and she was far too small in comparison to be able to force him to.
"Could you please move!" she demanded.
"No we're not done here." He responded, refusing to get out of her way.
"I have nothing more to say to you. I think I was right, you think I was wrong and I apologized for barging in on you in the shower, so let's just agree to disagree and end this pointless conversation." she insisted.
"Fine." He snapped as he moved to open the door for her. Just as she was about to walk through it he pulled her close and whispered in her ear once more.
"You really ought to be grateful though Hermione, because if I were any less of a gentleman like most of the blokes at this school I could insist that it would be only fair for me to see you in the same state of undress."
She looked up at him with her mouth hanging open in shock and he felt a vicious sense of satisfaction at the soft pink flush of embarrassment that was spreading across her face. Eventually though she composed herself.
"That will never happen." She told him hotly as she yanked her arm out of his grip and stomped away back to the common room he had dragged her out of.
Oliver leaned against the doorframe and watched her go, wondering why he felt so disappointed by her response.
Hermione rushed straight up to her dorm room when she reached Gryffindor tower, brushing off Ron and Ginny's questions to escape to the relative solitude of her curtained bed. She flung herself down on it, fervently hoping that Ginny would get the hint and not follow her up. She really didn't want to have to relate the conversation she had just had with Oliver to her.
The problem wasn't so much what he had said as the images it had conjured up in her head. Well that and the way his deep, baritone voice with its soft Scottish burr always affected her. Between the two she had been immediately assaulted with intentions very contradictory to the homicidal ones she had had earlier when she'd been so freaked out about Harry falling off of his broom.
She groaned softly into her pillow wondering just why it was that Harry's maniacal Quidditch captain managed to affect her in ways that no other guy had ever managed to before and just how she was going to face him at breakfast the next morning. Hopefully he would call an early practice and she wouldn't have to, but with his Seeker still in the infirmary she highly doubted it.