A/N: Do we have to go thru this again? Not mine. You Know Who owns it. Not HIM! Sheesh!


"Mum! We're here!" Oliver's voice rang out, as he set their luggage down in the foyer.

Hermione's eyes widened as she took in the entrance to the Wood home. The large wood doors they had just entered through were similar to the ones at Hogwarts, old wood that creaked when opened. The wood floors were buffed to a gleam, but looked well-used and loved. Eyes scanning around, the soft yellow walls enveloped her in a cozy feeling as her eyes fell upon the staircase. Two separate sets of stairs wound around the edges of the room up to a landing that led to a balcony of sorts and the second floor. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, gleaming in the sunshine.

"Hello there. I am so glad you arrived safely," Kyla said warmly, as she walked underneath the staircase from the back of the house. "You both are probably hungry. Why don't you show Hermione to her room and then we will meet in the kitchen for lunch?" Kyla asked, giving Oliver a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Kyla," Hermione responded. "I would like to freshen up a bit."

"Sounds good, Mum. Hermione?" Oliver asked, as he walked to the staircase to the left. She followed him up the stairs as Kyla went back to the kitchen. Her hands stroked the wood banister as she climbed towards the second floor. Oliver turned left as he reached the landing and led her to a door at the end of the hall.

"That one there is my parent's room," Oliver said, pointing to the left. Hermione nodded as he opened the door in front of him. He allowed her to enter in front of him, as he brought her things in.

"And this is or was my sister Ainsley's room. She lives in London now, and rarely visits," Oliver said, as he laid her trunk at the end of the bed on a chest.

Hermione looked around at the deep purple tones present. "Quite regal, isn't it?" she asked, touching a heavy velvet drape at the window.

"Well, it is kind of a joke with us all. She was very into this color as a young girl and my mother told her if she chose this for her room, it would have to stay," Oliver said with a laugh. "Once Ains reached adulthood, she begged my mother to change it, but it was a very stubborn old charm. She soon went off to further her education, and it has stayed this way since."

Hermione nodded as he related this, walking about the room and ending up at the bed. It was a massive four-poster with two-tone bedding. Golds accented the room and the bedding with soft cushions and pillows.

Oliver shuffled from one foot to the other. "Uh, you will want to know where the bath is," he said, his hands in his pockets. Hermione smiled and followed him out into the hall. He picked up his trunk from the landing and crossed to the right side of the balcony.

"This here is the bathroom," he said, as he opened the door to a large and elegant bath with marble floors and gold fixtures. Light poured in from a window high on the back wall over the tub.

"And, that is my room there," he stated, pointing to a door next to the bath. Hermione raised her brows.

"Right next door, eh?"

Oliver just shrugged. "Way it worked out, as it were."

They both stood there for a moment, not sure what to say or do next. Oliver cleared his throat eventually and muttered, "Well, I will just put my things away. Why don't you freshen up and I will meet you at the landing?" She nodded and turned to go to her room.

"Hermione?" Oliver said, his door slightly open.

She turned, looking at him. "It is really great having you here," he said in a low voice.

She smiled and said, "Thank you, Oliver. I am sure I will enjoy my time here very much." He nodded and entered his room.

Hermione turned back towards her doorway, muttering, "Ho, boy. What am I doing?"

After she had freshened up and combed back the damage the wind had done to her hair, Hermione met Oliver at the landing and they proceeded to the kitchen in the back of the house.

"Ah, there you two are. I hope you like soup and sandwiches, Hermione," Kyla asked, directing them to the table.

"Yes, I do," Hermione replied.

The sun shone intermittently over the tiles on the floor and the warm terracotta colors of the room brightened with each glimpse of it, as the three occupants ate and talked. Oliver and Kyla discussed the surrounding area with Hermione, relating anecdotes from his childhood there, sometimes to his embarrassment.

"Ask me about the time he got lost on his broom and we had a search party looking for half a day," Kyla said, her eyes gleaming with humor and love towards her son.

"Mum! Please! I am sure she has heard enough of the Wood family history to last a lifetime," Oliver said, his voice pleading.

Hermione laughed and said, "I will be sure to mention it sometime when he isn't around," she teased. Oliver looked at her and scowled. Hermione just wrinkled her nose at him.

"Oh, I knew I liked you right from the start, Hermione," Kyla said with affection, as she began to clear the table.

"Let me help you with that, Kyla," Hermione said, rising from her chair.

"Oh, no. You are a guest, Hermione. Oliver, stop sulking and show Hermione the rest of the house," Kyla said as she went to the sink.

Oliver unfolded his large frame from the table and stretched his arms up towards the ceiling. His dark sweater rose a bit and revealed his toned stomach, with a touch of hair leading into his waistband. Hermione flushed a little as her eyes caught this and looked out the window quickly.

Oliver held his hand out to her and said, "My lady."

Hermione rolled her eyes and, taking his hand, allowed him to show her to the other parts of the house. They walked through a small morning room, with a couch, desk and two small chairs situated around one of the front windows. It was decorated in light blues with white furniture.

"This here is where Mum conducts the 'business' of the house, as she puts it." Hermione adored the brightness of the room, and concluded that she would enjoy such a place in her own home.

"This is the official parlor," he explained, leading her through a room with soft orange tones and peach walls that looked like they were covered in satin fabric. "My grandmother actually decorated this room. My mum never saw any reason to change it."

They reentered the foyer and Hermione was struck again by the cozy feeling she had when they first entered. Walking beneath the staircase and turning right, they came upon the family room, with two large brown couches situated around the fireplace.

"We always spent our time in here as a family," he said, looking out the windows to the garden. "Christmas just isn't the same unless it is spent here."

"Do you come back here every year?" Hermione asked. Her eyes were glancing around the room and caught at the family portrait over the fireplace. She walked towards it slowly.

Oliver was still looking out the window as he replied, "I miss as few as possible." He turned to see Hermione looking very intently above the fireplace.

"Is that your father?" she asked.

Oliver walked over and stood beside her, looking up at the picture.

"Yes, that is my dad," Oliver said quietly. It still hurt, after all these years. "He died a couple years after I signed with Puddlemere."

Hermione looked at Oliver quickly then returned her gaze to the portrait. A smiling family of four looked at her happily. His father looked at them with pride and strength in his face, much like Oliver looked now. His mother's eyes exuded love and a touch of mischief. Ainsley, not much different looking from their mother, was smiling with a hint of laughter in her face. Oliver looked boyishly handsome, with a fire in his eyes, much like when he won a Quidditch match back at Hogwarts. "This was done while you were at Hogwarts, wasn't it?' she asked.

"Yes, how did you know?" Oliver asked, looking down at her.

"Well, you look like you did when you would win a match," she said, a smile on her face.

"You remember that?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes. We were all happy on those days. Gryffindor Common Room was so much more peaceful after you won, than after a loss," Hermione teased.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Goodness, woman, was I that bad?" he asked, walking back to the hall.

"Well, you were definitely focused, put it that way," she said. "Now, where does that door lead?" She pointed to a door off to the left of the hall.

"Ah, well, that is what you have come here for," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I present, the library." He opened the door with a flourish. Hermione walked in and almost fell to her knees in awe.

The light in this room was spare, but not much was needed to allow Hermione to rest her gaze on her heart's desire. The shelves rose practically to the roof on three sides of the room. Almost every space was occupied by a different book. She imagined the tomes whispered to her and she could have cried in reverence for the beauty of this sound.

Oliver watched the different emotions crossing her face and his heart swelled. He loved the idea that she was pleased with this room. It held a special place in his heart, as this was where he and his father spent most of their time together, when they weren't outside practicing Quidditch together. His eyes followed Hermione around the room as she lovingly touched the shelves and tables.

'All this, here. Why would he ever leave?' she wondered, as she walked to a desk near the front window of the room. Her eyes gazed over it and observed it looked a bit unused. No papers were lying about, and the quills were laying flat instead of poised in their holders.

She turned to Oliver as he walked up behind her. "Your father's, I assume?" she asked quietly. He nodded, making no sound as he twirled the small round paperweight on the desk.

Hermione placed her hand on his arm and looked up at him. His eyes were clouded with memories and Hermione thought she had never seen anything so wondrous as Oliver Wood. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. Her eyes swept down as he walked over to the window, leaving her at the desk.

She rotated slightly to look at the back wall of the library, as yet gone unnoticed. It was dark, because of the huge loft that extended over it. On the second floor, several small cabinets held other items, along with bookshelves almost completely filled. She could make out two chairs situated near the old wood railing, bracketing a table.

Oliver was still looking out the window when Hermione asked, "Is this all?"

He turned and seen a smile on her face. Oliver grinned back. "Is this all?" he repeated, 'What more do you want?"

Hermione's smile faltered. She immediately put her hand to her face and stifled a yawn. Her face flushed crimson as Oliver laughed out loud at her expression. "Aye, a nap might not be such a bad idea. C'mon."


Oliver lay on his bed, contemplating the events of the day. It was always hard to be back here, because so much of his father permeated the house. His was a happy childhood, but the sorrow of losing his father still knocked him back. He focused on why he was even there, and smiled.

Every single time he had begun to dwell on sad thoughts of his father today, Hermione pulled him from his memories with grace and humor. Her ability to read his feelings was a bit surprising, to him at least. He had never known anyone to be able to do that besides his mother or his sister. "Or maybe no one ever cared to look close enough,' he thought begrudgingly. That wasn't true of course. His close friends knew when he was falling into a depressed state and would fight it with humor as well. Oliver had never realized this before and a new appreciation for those close to him was felt.

'What is she doing to me?' he thought. This was not the first time he had come to a startling conclusion begun by thinking of Hermione. He felt a deep sense of contentment thinking of her sleeping down the hall, and finally closed his eyes to rest.


Her eyes still closed, Hermione stretched like a cat. The comfortable bed had caused her fall asleep as soon as she fell on it and she slept very peacefully. 'Hmm,' her mind sighed.

Hermione's eyes flashed open as she sat straight up. She looked around at the room, seeing the purple and panicking slightly. Her mind caught up with her location and she remembered where she was. Her racing heart slowed a bit as she brought her feet to the floor. 'Oh, that was a bit of a shock,' she thought as she stood there getting her bearings.

A knock sounded at the door and her heart raced again. She walked over as she tried to smooth her hair and opened the door.

"Oliver, hello," she said, as she let him in.

"Hello, I hope you enjoyed your nap," he asked, taking in her tousled hair. She was fidgeting with it as she walked to the trunk to remove her toiletries.

"Yes, I did, thank you. Did you manage to get any sleep?" she asked, trying to find her brush.

"Yes, a little. I am not quite as used to this mountain air as I used to be," he said, handing her the brush lying on the table next to the bed.

Hermione smiled her thanks and proceeded to remove the tangles from her hair, walking over to the long gilded mirror next to the windows. She was so concentrated on it that she didn't notice Oliver staring at her from behind.

Oliver was almost in a trance watching her brush her long brown curls with firm strokes. The tangles gone, the dark mass shimmered invitingly and his hands clutched into fists after he thrust them in his pockets. She pulled it up into a messy bun, exposing her neck.

Turning around, Hermione thought she saw him glance away quickly. She placed the brush back in her toiletry kit as he cleared his throat.

"Um, I thought you may like to examine a bit of the library some more before dinner."

Hermione's eyes lit up and she replied, "Oh, yes. That would be wonderful." She quickly found her tote and led the way to the door. Oliver looked back at the place she had occupied in front of the mirror.

"Oliver?" Hermione asked from the door.

"Right," he replied, his hands still clutched in his pockets.


The sun was just setting when they had finished dinner. Hermione was anxious to get back to the library, but Oliver persuaded her to walk with him outside before it was completely dark.

"I wanted to thank you for earlier today," Oliver started, walking through the gardens. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he looked out across the landscape as he walked.

Hermione had her warm cloak on, but still felt the wind push through as they reached the end of the path. Out in front of her was the rawest beauty she had seen in many years. The land stood for many years before them and would stand for many more after them. It was a humbling thought for anyone. They stood there in silence.

"I didn't do anything," Hermione replied at last. Oliver looked at her, slightly confused. His eyes closed and then he smiled.

"Well, it meant something to me. I appreciated it greatly."

"Well, you are welcome," she said quietly. Her eyes focused back on the effects of the wind on the fields beyond. The tall grass was waving gracefully. Hermione let out a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, Oliver looked over at her as her lashes hit her cheeks. The wind blew her hair around her and she absently tucked it behind her ear. A shudder shook her small shoulders and he blinked. It had gotten cool quickly, but he didn't feel it. His blood raced through him, warming every inch of his body.

"Why don't we head in? There is a storm headed this way and they come down quickly from the mountains," Oliver said.

She opened her eyes and focusing on his face, nodded. As much as she adored storms, it was getting colder and she preferred to watch them from inside. They walked back in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. As they reached the door to go inside, thunder rolled over the mountains. Hermione walked ahead of Oliver towards the library. They still had a lot of work to do.


The storm raged over the Highlands and battered the Wood Estate unmercifully throughout the night. Hermione woke to find her bed shaking slightly in the dark of early morning. Stretching as she got out of bed, Hermione was glad she had packed warmer clothing; she quickly dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Sitting at the table drinking her tea, Hermione watched the storm wind itself down, finally. She lifted her feet to rest on the chair. The land freshly washed by the rain sparkled as the sun began to rise in the east. She was quietly enjoying this sight when she heard shuffling behind her.

"For heavens sake, Mione, what are you doing up this early?" Oliver said with a sleepy voice. He yawned widely as he reached the chair opposite her.

She just shrugged. "I've always been an early riser."

Oliver just nodded as he rested his head on his hand, looking out the doors to the sky. "Storm finally gone, aye?"

"Mm-hmm. Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"That would be lovely, lass," Oliver said sleepily, his head falling off his hand. Hermione smiled.

"Why don't you go back to bed? You don't need to be up for me to conduct research," she said quietly as she handed him a strong dose of caffeine.

Oliver yawned again. "I'm up now," he said as he sipped his tea.

Hermione sat back down and raising her feet once again, looked outside. Her eyes occasionally traveled to Oliver, who was fighting to stay awake. Eyes closed, his head slipped off his hand again. She smiled into her tea and thought how adorable he looked in the morning, his stubble darkening the smooth planes of his jaw.

Resting his head back on his hand, Oliver opened his eyes to find Hermione watching him. "What?" he said.

"Nothing," she replied, the small smile still in place.


A/N: so there it is. I am working diligently on the next few chapters, and I am sorry if this is dragging. I am trying hard to keep the tone and still have it be interesting. OH JKR, I so totally get why it took you 13 years to finish HP. Thanx to all, read and review.