Author's Note: nothing out of the ordinary. It should be pretty easy to follow.
Summary: O/H one-shot! The librarian hated him and he needed help. But there was only one other person in the library during Christmas break... Hermione Granger.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot…
"Mr. Wood, I do not have the time for you foolishness! I am busy and I will not go gallivanting around the library on a wild goose chase for you. Holidays or not, I do not do charity work for fully capable people. If you truly need that book then ask one of your fellow students to assist you."
The librarian was such an annoying woman. She had a rule for just about every thing and she seemed to have it out for Oliver Wood. Whenever he went into the library she would watch him like a hawk and if he needed help finding a specific book she would refuse to help him.
All he wanted was to finish up this last quidditch play before Christmas, because after that he would be studying for his NEWTS nonstop till the end of the year. And, of course, since it was the holidays, he thought that maybe the old bat behind the big desk, would have helped him out just a little bit... apparently not.
Sighing in defeat, Oliver turned away for the librarian's desk, quidditch play folder in hand, in search of someone that would know how to find what he was looking for. At this point he would be lucky to find anyone in the library, seeing as most people were either back at home with their families, or participating in the snowball war going on outside. But there was always the chance that one person was still here… and there she was curled up in a plush reading chair by the fire place, surrounded by stacks of books and parchment.
If anyone knew where he could find and easy to understand Arithmetic text, it would be Hermione Granger. The girl probably knew the library better than the old bat that ran the massive thing. He swore that he had never seen her with out at least one book near by. Of course, he knew she had to let go of them at some point, or else Potter and Weasley would go mad.
He stood and watched her for a moment. Her hair was no longer 'bushy', but it still had volume and her curls were loosening into waves. Her lips were slightly open as she read and her finger grazed the page as she turned it. She was sitting on her feet and her back was straight. She had obviously matured, for now she was beginning to develop feminine curves. But one thing about her physical appearance that had not changed was her eyes. They were still as chocolate as ever and although they showed extreme focus on whatever she was reading they showed innocence as well.
He walked up to her slowly, almost nervous in a sense. He waited by her chair for a moment, before realizing that she was not going to notice him. He placed his hand in the top of her book. She looked up at him just a tiny bit startled.
"Hello Hermione. I was just wondering if you would mind helping me find a book. I need a math book that I can understand completely. None of that technical mumbo jumbo, or gibberish professional math lingo. Have you happened to cross something like that in here?" as he spoke, he could see the wheels in her head turn as she tried to rack he brain for a book that held his description. When she had thought of the perfect book, he could tell… it was written all over her face.
"Well, Oliver, you're in luck." She said as she stood and began to walk down the rows of books. "It just so happens that there is an old math text book that is quite useful. I get the vague impression that its muggle." He followed her as they made countless turns between the shelves and he felt the need to ask her a question that she usually found annoying.
"How much time do you spend in the library, Hermione? On a daily average, that is…"
She stopped and turned to look at him. The curious look in his eyes showed her that he truly was interested and not just making fun. Thus she found her self smiling at his question, instead of frowning and stomping off… maybe it was the holiday spirit making her this cheerful.
"Not as much as most people assume. Contrary to popular belief, I do not live in here. Madame Pince does not have a bed and bath set up for me in one of the back corners and there are other people who leave after me on a regular basis." She said, with a teasing stance in her features.
"I'm sorry to have misjudged you Miss Granger. I could have sworn that you had slippers and spare toothbrush stored in this treasury of knowledge." As he said this, the two of them started laughing, and since they were in the deeper parts of the library no one, not that there was anyone in the library during Christmas other than Madame Pince and Hermione anyway, would hear them.
"It seems that I too have previously made assumptions about you. I thought you saved a seat in every one of you classes for your broom and there are rumors that you might even sleep next to it at night." Oliver smirked at her statement.
"Now Miss Granger, play nice." As he playfully reprimanded her, she got a bothered look, which had obviously been faked.
"I'll try Mr. Wood, but I can't promise a thing." He smiled at her attitude. When he smiled she smiled back at him.
"How about we start over?" he asked with a bit of hope in his voice.
"Clean slates?'
"Yep… No presumptions or rumors, just you and me, getting to know one another from scratch."
"Sure. Hello, my name is Hermione Granger and I'm a third year. What about you?" she said with an outstretched hand. He took her hand and shook it.
"I'm Oliver Wood and I'm a seventh year. I wonder…would you mind helping me solve a problem I'm having?" Hermione raised her eyebrow.
"What sort of problem, Oliver?" he grinned, knowing full well that he was living up to his stereotype as a quidditch nutter.
"Well, Mia, I'm having Quidditch play problems and since you seem like the type of person who is absolutely brilliant and could therefore help me, it would be greatly appreciated if you did just that."
He watched as Hermione started to laugh and shake her head muttering something along the lines of 'I should have known'. Before he could retaliate to her statement, she had grabbed his hand and dragged him back to her spot by fire, with out having found the old math text. She sat down in her seat and he pulled up a chair next to hers and cleared away some of the books so he could see her.
He barely registered the fact that she had stolen his quidditch plays from him or that she was marking them up with red ink and fixing every little glitch in his mathematical calculations. What he did notice was that she didn't mind holding his hand, and she hadn't corrected him when he called her 'Mia', and she, a woman who disliked quidditch with a passion, was fixing all his quidditch problems. He also noticed that when he leaned close to see what she was doing, she blushed but didn't move away.
Three hours later found them in the same spot. Hermione had finished correcting everything and now the two were inventing new plays. Suddenly he couldn't help himself; he just had to know.
"Mia… do you mind me calling you that?" he watched as she pondered the new name and sort of tested it out in her head.
"No actually. It's a right side better than 'Herms'. That makes me sound boyish. I wouldn't want you calling me 'Mione', because only Harry can call me that. But… well in all honesty, I really like it when you call me that." She said with a shy smile and blush. Oliver beamed, simply because this was the exact response he had wanted.
"Good, Mia, because I plan to keep calling you that. It will be my special nickname for you." He watched as her blush deepened but she kept eye contact with him.
"I'm liking it better as the seconds go by." She sounded like a child confessing to having stolen cookies out of the cookie jar.
"Mia, do you want to get a good luck butter beer with me before my next quidditch game this up coming Saturday? I know it's not your thing but…"
"Sure. I might like that Oliver. But do you think we could head to the great hall? The Christmas feast should be starting soon." Oliver nodded. They both grinned. Oliver and Hermione exited the library together.
Madame Pince, and any other random soul that was in the library, failed to notice their shy smiles and no one in the great hall noticed how close they sat together or how intently they listened to one another, except one; Professor Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled brightly as he gazed at their conjoined hands, envisioning a wedding that he would play minister to being held in the great hall. He looked forward to the day that he would have more quidditch fanatics and bookworms, with the last name of Wood, gracing the Hogwart halls.
End comments: So... I really like this one. Tell me what you think and if I get good responses I might make a few more... Okay so I'll make them whether you like them or not, but whatever. Happy Holidays!