Hermione and Oliver plunged themselves into the research that day, and fell into bed exhausted that night. There was no repeat of the night before, although the tension between the two was not gone completely. In fact, the pull was getting stronger in one party in particular. But they both understood that many things had to be resolved first, before any steps would be taken to be together. Most surprising, the closeness between them was increasing.
Hermione sat at the desk, looking over the same book for the third time. She leaned back and rubbed her tired eyes. There was nothing in this book this time that it did not contain the first two times she looked at it. She was to return to work tomorrow, and although the progress was promising, it was not what she had hoped for. Every translation or lead they had discovered so far was bringing her closer to a certain Bulgarian.
Kyla walked in as Hermione began to flip through the pages in a different book for the second time since they started.
"How about a nice cup of tea, dears?" Kyla asked, setting a tea service on the coffee table near the balcony bookshelves.
Oliver yawned and stretched as he sat up. He had been reclining on one of the couches reading. "That sounds great, Mum. Thank you."
Hermione walked over and sat down next to Oliver, taking the cup of tea with immense gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you very much, Kyla."
Kyla nodded and sat down across from the two. Hermione settled against the back of the couch and let her eyes close. They all sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the peace. Kyla watched Oliver look over to Hermione a few times, observing the tenderness that shone through.
"You two should take a break, you know. You have been sitting in here for the past day and a half looking at dusty books. Why don't you take a walk? You may come back with a fresh perspective," Kyla suggested, sipping her tea.
Hermione looked at Oliver, who had turned to look at her. They both grinned and jumped up, after setting down their cups.
"Bye, Mum," Oliver said, not noticing his mother's smirk behind her cup.
They raced out the back door through the kitchen, Oliver deftly passing Hermione on the steps. They sped to the end of the garden and out to the pasture beyond. Oliver was sure he would beat Hermione by a long ways, so he wasn't trying too hard. He looked over his shoulder to see her eyes glint at him from not a yard back. She was going all out, her hair flying behind her. Her trainers were moving extremely fast.
Oliver looked back forward and pushed until they reached an old stone wall, built before the 11th century.
"I win," he gasped, leaning on the wall for support.
Hermione caught up with him quickly and placed her hands on her knees, gulping in air.
"Yes, you win." Her eyes were sparkling and full of laughter when she stood up a few moments later, her breathing finally returning to normal. "But I reserve the right to a rematch."
Oliver's brow swept upwards and he challenged, "Think you have it in you, aye?"
Hermione nodded and walked along the stone wall, her delicate fingers tapping along the top. She stopped at a junction that separated the pastures and looked out over the land.
The blue sky was dotted with big white clouds and sunshine was fighting them to shower the land with warmth and heat. It had rained the day before and the lush green was competing with the grays and browns of the earth.
Oliver followed and stood behind her to her left, placing his arm on her shoulders.
"It is so beautiful here," Hermione said with a sigh. She didn't mind him touching her; in fact, she had begun to miss it. "Promise me I will be able to return here someday," she said, turning to look at him.
Oliver looked down and smiled. "Aye, lass, I will make you that promise."
Hermione nodded and looked back to the view. Oliver was still watching her, as the wind blew her hair about her face. Her cheeks were pink from the running and the wind. He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and Hermione closed her eyes.
As she turned to him, she opened them and was greeted with a sight she had never seen before. Her eyes widened slightly.
Hermione had watched humor, sadness, frustration, anger, passion, compassion, and the love of a son for his mother in the dark brown depths she was looking into now. But she had never seen this, the love of a man for a woman. It took her breath away to see Oliver looking at her like that. Her parents looked at one another like that, as did Ginny and Harry. No one, not even Viktor, had ever looked at her that way. 'When did this happen?' she thought to herself.
"Oliver?" she said quietly, but not too quietly.
Oliver reached up to place his hand on the side of her face. "You are an amazing woman, Mione," he said, leaning down to her.
Hermione closed her eyes and reached up slightly to touch her lips to his. The fullness of his mouth pressed against hers and she was lost. She had never been kissed such as this. The way his mouth captured her lips and just held them, not trying to deepen the kiss but just loving the contact. Her heart felt like it had wings and her brain was flying along side. Her legs were about to collapse from under her; she grasped his shoulders as Oliver wrapped his arms around her to hold her up. He moved from her lips to her nose, kissing the tip, then to her eyes, kissing each one in turn, until finally he kissed her forehead and held her to him as if his life depended on it.
Hermione's arms wound around his neck and she felt herself come back to earth. She was breathing in his scent at his neck and was content, for the first time in many years. The arms holding her relaxed and she looked up into his eyes, seeing once again all he felt for her. She smiled and was greeted with a blinding grin. Oliver took her hand and they began to walk back to the house.
Neither one noticed the curtain settle back into place at the kitchen window.
As they entered the library, Kyla looked up from his father's desk and smiled at them. Her eyes were sparkling. Oliver lifted his brow.
"Oliver," Kyla began, "did you ever check your father's desk for anything?"
Shaking his head, Oliver said, "No, Mum. I just figured you had already removed everything from it."
"Well, I hadn't ever gotten around to it. I wasn't sure I should go into his things, considering how much he valued his privacy in here," Kyla said, the smile still on her face. "But, I remember he mentioned keeping an old book in the corner drawer, because he figured it was the safest place for it."
Hermione's eyes gleamed, as she asked, "Is it still there?"
"Well, I don't know. I am still unable to get that particular drawer open," Kyla said, stepping back from the desk.
Oliver walked over to the side of the desk his mother occupied and looked down at the drawer in question.
"You tried to open it?" he asked.
Kyla nodded and stood back even farther as Hermione made her way over to them.
Oliver reached down and grasped the handle to pull it open. Warmth traveled up his arm and the drawer cracked open. His eyes glittered strangely as he looked over at Hermione. He pulled more until the drawer was completely open. They both looked in to see an old tartan covering the bottom of it.
Hermione reached into the drawer to touch it, but the drawer began to emit blue sparks and some struck her hand. She pulled her hand away quickly and watched Oliver reach in to grab the tartan, with immediate success.
Oliver closed the drawer and placed the tartan on the desk. As he unwrapped the fabric, a very old book could be seen hidden in its depths. Hermione looked at the title, but it was unfamiliar, meaning, not the book they were looking for. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Oliver looked up to see the defeat in her face. He smiled and set his hand on the book. Immediately light began to shine from beneath his hand and as he removed it, Hermione looked at the book again. The title had changed. It was the book they wanted; all this time, just sitting next to her legs. She shook her head and laughed.
As they began to flip through the book, Kyla crept from the room. She walked up the stairs towards the master suite. Closing her door, she walked over to a picture sitting on the nightstand next to her bed. Her eyes moist, Kyla sat down and smiled at the man in the picture.
"It has happened. Our son has finally found her," she whispered.
Kenneth Wood returned the smile and winked at her.
As they sat together on the couch, Hermione and Oliver worked their way through the last book together. Her quill was scratching down notes quickly while his eyes skimmed over all the possible foreign phrases written down, which he then showed her, inspiring more scratches with the quill.
"Dolor voluntas commisceo", Oliver said, his voice resonating with the burr of his ancestors.
Hermione shifted slightly in her seat. Listening to his voice was unsettling her. She wrote this phrase down and studied it.
"Pain will join?" she said out loud.
"Hmm?" Oliver said, turning to her.
"That last phrase, 'dolor voluntas commisceo', it means, 'pain will join'," she said.
"Pain?"
Hermione nodded. She didn't like this. First, Oliver's book talked about 'red versus white', implying a contest or battle of some kind. And now they find, 'pain will join.'
"Mione? What does that pertain to?" Oliver asked.
Hermione shrugged and began to scratch the translation onto her notes.
"That's it. That's all there is," Oliver said, shutting the book.
Hermione nodded and turned back to look at her notes from the beginning. She scratched several out, being as they had nothing to do with anything they needed, mostly pertaining to people in history. Her eyes focused on the last phrase again and she frowned.
Oliver had returned the book to the spelled drawer and sat back down beside Hermione. He leaned back on the couch and began to play with Hermione's hair, the messy bun coming loose from its hold. A smile crept across her face.
"Oliver?" Hermione said quietly.
"Yes?" he replied, still caressing the soft curls.
"I can't think when you do that," she said.
Oliver grinned. "Do what?"
"That, what you are doing," she said, her eyes still focusing on the papers in her lap.
"Oh. Well, would it be better if I did this?" he asked, tracing a finger down her neck, just behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut.
"No," she said with a sigh.
"Well, maybe this will allow you to concentrate better," he said, as he leaned over to trail his lips over the skin his finger had just explored.
Hermione swallowed and tried to catch her breath, her lips parting.
"No, that definitely doesn't make me concentrate better."
Oliver placed a feathery kiss on her collarbone and sat up.
Hermione let her head fall back to the couch as she looked at him. His eyes gleamed with a banked passion, but also the humor he found in their little love play. She smirked at him. He was just about to say something when his mother walked in to let them know that dinner was ready.
"Coming, Mum," Oliver said instead. Kyla nodded and walked back to the kitchen, humming. He stood and held his hand out to Hermione. As she placed her hand in his, he pulled her up quickly and her papers fell to the ground, forgotten. His hand brushed the loose strands of hair back from her face and he whispered the word, 'Later.'
A/N: I know, it bites. I just wanted to let you all know that I will be posting quite regular after this weekend again. Grandma is staying with me and I have been quite the busy bee. Enjoy the weekend all and look for a post on Monday sometime.
OH BTW….THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU….Over 7000 reads in 2 ½ wks! I am humbled by your attention.
