A/N: A special thanks on my birthday to these people for reviewing and making me feel even more special: dolphinz87,
imakeeper, shadieladie, Kari-Hermione, Emi-Bum, PapayaCrazy,
aznqudditchchick, vagrantben, nehimasgift, melodicmoonstar89,
sexyirishBeep, tofuubeaver, san01, Kuroumo, untamedspiral, CareBearErin, and pottersgirl91. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter and the next one! And a congrats to dolphinz87, nehimasgift, tofuubeaver, and CareBearErin for getting the correct meaning out of the Tarot Cards! Anyways, on with the chapter...
Chapter 13 – Solution to the Flashes
Hermione, Oliver, and Kirsten sat at lunch, contentedly talking about Quidditch with Harry, Ron, Luna, and Ginny. The Burrow was full once more and everyone seemed to enjoy it. All were laughing and Hermione kept stealing quick, tearful smiles at Ginny who knew everything that Hermione thought, and even felt the same.
The longer they sat there talking about Quidditch, the more Hermione saw that Kirsten truly was like her father, Oliver. 'But how do I tell her that her idol on the pitch – her best friend – is her father?' Hermione pondered to herself as she helped Ginny and Luna clear away the dishes.
"When do you plan on telling her?" Ginny whispered to Hermione as they stood at the kitchen sink watching Harry, Ron, Oliver, and Kirsten go out to the pitch again.
"I'm not sure, but I know I'll have to," Hermione sighed, turning away from the window to start the dishes.
"Do you think he'll stay after you tell them? Or are you going to even tell him, too?" Ginny quizzed.
"Of course I'm going to tell him... sometime," Hermione admitted uncertainly. "But it's hard to say if he'll stay around after that. I mean, he seems changed and I don't think he would run out on me ag-"
"Don't say again, Hermione, like he ran out on you and Kirsten both the first time," Ginny scolded lightly. "He didn't know about her... not even you did for that matter."
"I'm sorry, you're right," Hermione sighed. "I'm getting ahead of myself and forgetting the facts here."
"Take it one day at a time," Ginny advised. "Just not today," she added as she too turned away from the window and charmed the broom to sweep the kitchen.
It was eight o'clock that evening before Hermione went back outside to the pitch. She walked up slowly, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, trying to break some of the breeze that was coming on. 'Storm' Hermione thought as she turned her eyes to the sky and smelt the breeze that was blowing.
There was a faint hint of a coppery, wet smell. Rain. She passed through the trees on a well beaten path and soon came to the clearing that was the Weasley pitch. She looked up and saw Oliver playing Keeper with Kirsten on his broom, and Ron and Harry doing tricky maneuvers in the air to try and get the Quaffle from one another.
Normally, Kirsten would be cheering one of them on, whichever team she belonged to, but she wasn't right now. Instead, she was chattering animatedly to Oliver who, even in the dark, still had that brilliant gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face. He looked on Kirsten with such pride and love that it almost broke Hermione's heart to call things to an end.
"Oliver! Kirsten!" Hermione yelled up to them. "It's time to go!"
"Aw, Mum, just ten more minutes," Kirsten pleaded.
"This isn't like sleeping in, Kirsten, dear. We have to be getting Oliver back to St. Mungo's," Hermione bellowed back, her voice shaking a little.
"Your mother is right," Oliver told the little girl as they landed.
'Will you think that later?' Hermione wondered as she took Kirsten's hand and led her toward the house as the wind picked up.
Lightning struck somewhere in the distance and thunder followed soon after. Another flash lit up the clearing and Hermione saw the bolt that time. 'That wasn't lightning earlier today' she thought to herself as the bluish glow of the lightning reminded her of the flashes that afternoon.
"Better hurry," Harry pointed out as rain started to dot his glasses and their clothes.
They all raced back to the house, Ron shaking his head like a dog once they were inside the door. Kirsten laughed and Harry and Hermione, who had been standing closest to him, glared as he flung water onto them.
"Well, we need to get going," Hermione said, looking to the clock on the wall. "I told Miriam and Padma in my note that I would have you back by eight and it's already quarter after."
Oliver, Hermione, and Kirsten walked over to the fireplace where Ginny had a fire lit, knitting pink and blue baby booties as she sat curled up on the couch in front of it. Hermione bid everyone goodbye, but Kirsten was too busy clinging to Oliver's neck and laughing as he tickled her to join her mother in the farewells. Oliver waved and then turned to Hermione as she grabbed some Floo Powder and the three of them quickly stepped into the fire.
"St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward!" Hermione shouted as she grabbed onto Oliver.
The three of them went spinning out of sight of the living room of The Burrow, and soon were passing lit fireplace after lit fireplace. Finally, they came tumbling out onto the floor of Miriam's office. Miriam was sitting in her chair and jumped up as they stood, dusting themselves of soot.
"What were you thinking?" Miriam hissed at Hermione. "You've got some real explaining to d-"
"Kirsten, take Oliver back to his room," Hermione interjected quietly.
The little girl nodded and grabbed Oliver's hand, pulling him from Miriam's office.
"Miss Granger! I can't believe you!" Miriam snapped in disbelief. "Do you know what could have happ-"
"It's not like I was taking him somewhere dangerous. We just went to a friend's house so I could get him back on a broom-"
"Back on a broom?" Miriam gasped. "Are you feeling ill!"
"No! For Merlin's sake, Miriam, I think you should know me well enough to know that Oliver was in good hands," Hermione pointed out in a rather offended way.
"Good hands or not, what were you thinking letting him back on a broom?" Miriam questioned in outrage at Hermione's ill regard for the rules.
"I was thinking that it just might help... Which – I'll have you know – it did!"
Miriam opened her mouth and pointed her finger at Hermione, but seemed to be unable to say anything as Hermione crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.
"At least your taking him saved us some trouble today," Miriam sighed as she sat down.
"Trouble?" Hermione repeated. "Saved you from what kind of trouble?"
"There was a reporter here today," Miriam answered. "Or rather a photographer, whatever he was, it doesn't matter. He managed to get into the room Oliver's staying in and was going to take pictures, but all that was there was an empty bed."
"I bet it was Lawrence Bewells," Hermione growled.
"No, this man wasn't him," Miriam assured her. "But he was probably working for him. He gave Padma a real scare either way."
"What happened?"
"Well, Padma was going into the room to get the dirty clothes from the bathroom hamper when she spotted him. He had that note of yours in his hand and he was reading it. He looked rather alarmed when Padma came in there, so he flashed the camera in her face and ran out," Miriam explained. "It just so happened, when he ran out, he ran into the cart Padma had been pushing and caused quite a ruckus. I came out to see what was happening, figuring Padma had dropped something and now needed my help, but I got rather a shock when I ran into him."
"What did you guys do with him?" Hermione inquired.
"Turned him in to security," Miriam answered. "What else."
"Did they take his camera?" Hermione asked.
"I wish," Miriam sighed. "They couldn't."
"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned, bewildered.
"He did away with it," Miriam responded.
"Did away with it?"
"He shrunk it and swallowed it," Miriam said in disappointment. "There was nothing we could do. It wasn't like we could force him to spit it up... we would need a written form of permission from the Minister to do so, and seeing as the Minister is in Bulgaria on business, we weren't getting it."
"So, they let him go," Hermione guessed in anger.
"There was no way we could hold him," Miriam admitted.
"What are we going to do?" Hermione pondered.
"Nothing we can do really... I mean, I don't think he got away with any kind of photo because Padma said he didn't take a picture of the note and with Oliver gone, well, there was no picture to take. The most he has is a rather shocked picture of Padma."
"True," Hermione agreed while taking a seat across from Miriam.
"But this doesn't change that you broke the rules and took Oliver out with permission," Miriam reminded.
"Oh, Miriam, can't you let it slide this once? I mean, I did save us some troub- Oh. My. Dear. Lord," Hermione gasped in midsentence.
"What?" Miriam asked sounding concerned.
"About what time of the day was this that you let him go?" Hermione asked with a rather panicked expression.
"Around one o'clock. Why?"
"Oh no," Hermione muttered, sinking back into her chair.
"What is it?" Miriam asked frantically.
"I think they might have got their pictures anyways," Hermione groaned.
Kirsten sat on Oliver's bed as she waited for him to change back into his hospital gown. She spotted the book her mother always read to her, the one she had started reading to Oliver, and picked it up. Wood emerged from the bathroom just as Kirsten opened it to the bookmarked place. He walked over and sat down in a chair, Kirsten clambering into his lap.
"Can I read some to you?" she begged.
"Sure," Wood nodded.
"Okay, where did you leave off?" Kirsten questioned as she scanned the page.
"How about I read to you?" he offered as he helped hold the book.
She nodded and he found the spot where he had been, and began reading.
"He had smiled at me like that and hugged me in a bone crushing hug before giving me what Angelina Johnson had deemed a "victory butt pat". That was the first time I got nervous around any other guy student who wasn't Ron. But here I was now," Oliver read.
"That's my uncle Ron they're talking about. I think this story is about Aunt Luna, but Mum says I'm wrong," Kirsten interrupted.
"I think you are, too," Oliver joked in a whisper as he recalled all the memories, made up or not, that he had while reading this.
"Keep reading," Kirsten urged, paying no attention to his remark.
"But here I was now, facing him as he smiled at me in that same way, yet there was something different. It wasn't that there weren't screaming Gryffindors around us, or that he wasn't covered in sweat, but the look in his eyes and just the atmosphere."
"Eeeww," Kirsten murmured.
"What?" Oliver laughed.
"This is the part where they kiss," Kirsten informed.
"Oh? And have you never kissed a little boy?" Oliver teased.
"I should say not!" Kirsten gasped; scandalized.
"He took a step closer and my breathing picked up. My nerves had been on fire, and there had been a shiver hiding somewhere in my spine, I could feel it. He reached up and I turned my head to watch his hand come to rest on the back of my neck. The shiver came out of hiding and when I turned to look at him-"
"Kirsten," Hermione beckoned softly from the doorway. "It's t-time to go home n-now."
"What's wrong, Mum?" Kirsten asked as she stared at her mother in wonder.
'Why is Momma stuttering? She isn't in trouble, is she? She looks pale' Kirsten thought in concerned panic.
"I'm just cold," Hermione lied. "Come now... let's leave Oliver to take his potion and go to bed himself. We'll talk another day."
"See ya, Oliver," Kirsten said as she hugged his neck and kissed his cheek.
He stood and ruffled her hair, earning a playful glare from her as she turned and ran to her mother.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Wood," Hermione bid before turning with Kirsten and leaving, her stomach positively churning within her.
Something was wrong, seriously wrong, and she had a feeling that things were about to go bad again real soon.
The next morning, Hermione awoke early and went downstairs to start a pot of coffee. She stood at the sink washing a cup, yawning and cursing the early morning sun which wasn't really that bright because clouds from last night's stood still hung about, but it was bright to her seeing as she wasn't used to the light yet. She turned to the coffee pot and was about to pour herself some of the steaming black energy into a cup when there was a scratching noise at the kitchen window above the sink.
Hermione cringed at the chill giving noise and turned with a glare to the window. There was a large barn owl sitting there, a paper tied with a sting in its beak. It flapped its great wings impatiently and Hermione groaned. 'Sometimes I wonder why they can't move my delivery to a later time on the list' she thought grouchily.
She opened the window and grabbed the paper from the owl who screeched loudly. It stuck out its leg, jingling the drawstring bag that was tied there.
"Yes, yes, all right," Hermione grumbled. "Hold your feathers on."
Hermione turned to a drawer on the end of the counter and pulled out a little coin box. She took out a some Sickles and dropped them into the coin pouch, the owl barely giving her time to close it again before it took off.
"Paper's getting rather expensive these days," she hissed as she realized that she didn't get her change back.
Putting the box back and sighing, she poured her coffee and grabbed the paper before heading over to the table. She sat down, shivering as the cold wood touched her thighs. She lifted her cup up to her face and basked in the warm steam that was issuing from it. She breathed it deeply and felt a little refreshed. She opened her eyes and they landed on the paper before her.
Taking a sip of coffee, Hermione sat her cup back down and began to untie the paper. She unrolled it and spread it upon the table picking up her cup once more. She took a sip as she scanned the front page, but spit it right back out onto the pictures she saw there.
There on the front page, under the headline 'Hospital Affair: Oliver Wood Really Injured, Or Just On Vacation?', there was four pictures. One of Oliver's empty hospital bed with the note laying on it, the words of the note changed to say 'Went out. Be back later. - Oliver Wood'. Another picture was of Oliver laying in bed while Hermione was bent over the bed hugging him. The third of Hermione and Oliver laying on the ground, Wood on top of her while her arms were around his neck.
And lastly, the fourth was of Hermione, Oliver, and Kirsten. They were holding hands, all three of them, with Kirsten in the middle, and above this picture was the another headline. 'Oliver Wood... A Father?'
Hermione groaned and dropped her head onto the table in despair. This was not good.
