A/N at end of chapter, and disclaimer...I disclaim any and all rights to the known characters in this story. I am sure JKR feels so much better now.
After a wonderful dinner filled with great food and laughter, Hermione and Oliver returned to the library to clear away the haphazard mess created over the past four days of searching. As she stood at the desk, her eyes were continually drawn to the desk drawer next to her. She had so many questions about it, but didn't want to distract from the research. She would investigate it eventually. Her mind filed the occurrence for the future.
Oliver had managed to return most of the books in the time she took clearing the desk. His knowledge of his library was amazing and as she watched him up on the second floor of the library, Hermione felt this amazing lightness fill her. 'I think he loves me,' she thought to herself. 'But how? How can he love me after only spending four days with me?'
'He did know you before that,' her mind replied, 'and don't forget your meeting at his house. That was explosive!'
'But not very well. And what do I know about him, really?' she argued.
'What is there to know? He is a good man, obviously. Adored by his family and most people he is in contact with. He is not hard on the eyes either,' her mind said with a smirk.
'Looks aside,' Hermione argued with herself, a blush creeping up her face, 'who exactly is he close to? Who are his friends?'
'Practically everyone you know. Come on, girl, do you honestly think that their judge of character is poor? He is a great guy, who has feelings for you. Don't overthink this like you do with everything, just let it be,' her heart and mind said to her in unison.
Oliver watched Hermione from the balcony in secret. 'She is thinking too hard again," he thought to himself. He let out a deep breath and went to turn to put a book away, only to find himself looking at his mother. She beckoned him into the hall, away from the young lady's very observant eyes and ears.
"Shh," Kyla said, as Oliver was just about to ask her what she wanted. She glanced around the bookcase once more and then led Oliver to his bedroom. Closing the door softly, her eyes took in the scattered clothing and books around his room.
"Oliver," she scolded, as she picked his things up from the floor and chairs, to place them in his trunk.
"Mum," Oliver said, in a similar tone.
"Now, how are things between you two?" Kyla asked, her straightforward demeanor meant to shock Oliver into answering. She sat on his bed, after straightening the comforter.
Oliver looked at his mother and cocked an eyebrow. "Things?" he asked.
"Yes, how are things? Where are you two at in your relationship?"
"Mum! Really!" Oliver blushed.
"What? I am not allowed to ask about your love life?" Kyla said, her lips curving into a smile.
"No, you aren't. That's between Hermione and me," Oliver said, walking over to the window.
"Oliver, darling, look at me please."
Oliver glanced to his mother and seen only absolute love in her countenance.
"I only ask because I can tell where your heart is at. I know you very well, my dear," she said, walking over to look at him closely. "You have always been very careful with your feelings, much like your father. But, I recognize the signs. Your father looked at me the way you look at her. I won't tell you to be careful, you usually are. I will only tell you to be sure. Once a Wood man gives his heart to a woman, it is forever." Her eyes sparkled with memories.
Oliver turned to look at the mountains. 'Is this true? Is Hermione the one?' His mind turned over; the thought of her eyes looking at him with love and passion was like the Holy Grail to him, the ultimate goal. The passion was there, he had seen AND felt it. It scorched his mind to remember their kisses. But there wasn't love. Not yet anyway, he told himself.
Looking back to his mother, Oliver smiled down at her. "I am sure, Mum. I only hope that in time, she will see it as well. Her past may be a hurdle, for her at least. But I want her to know that it doesn't matter to me, and it shouldn't matter to anyone else," he stated, looking at his mother pointedly.
Kyla's eyes opened wide. She hadn't expected this, Oliver challenging her to accept Hermione or else. She grinned widely and wrapped her arms around her only son.
"Oh, darling. I adore her, no matter what is in her past. She has strength of spirit and heart," Kyla said, pulling back to look at Oliver. "Obviously, she has mastered her magic or she wouldn't be here, and that is only a good thing. Her brilliance is only matched by her beauty and compassion. What more could I want for you? Someone to love you fully, yet not be run over with your personality. It is all I have ever wanted for both my children."
Oliver hugged his mother close. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Hermione walked up the stairs to grab a sweater; it had gotten a bit chilly in the library. She looked towards Oliver's room, curious as to why the door was closed. 'That's odd, it wasn't closed earlier,' she thought.
Glancing at the balcony area to the library, she finally noticed that Oliver was not there. Hermione walked over to his door and was about to knock when she heard talking. Normally not an eavesdropper, she couldn't help but overhear her name. She heard the soft murmur of Kyla's voice, but couldn't quite make out what she was saying. However, she didn't have any problem distinguishing Oliver's rich tone.
"I am sure, Mum. I only hope that in time, she will see it as well. Her past may be a hurdle, for her at least. But I want her to know that it doesn't matter to me, and it shouldn't matter to anyone else."
Hermione's mouth fell open as she listened. Kyla's soft voice was heard again, but still indistinguishable. She stood up straight and quietly walked to her room. Once there, she sat on the edge of the bed, lost to her thoughts, which were much more confused than earlier.
'He doesn't care about my past!' her heart exclaimed.
'Of course he does, who wouldn't?' her insecurity challenged.
'No, he wouldn't. He just said it wouldn't matter to him, no matter what,' she challenged, grasping at this new development.
'But who would want a woman with a past such as this!' the insecurity raged.
'I didn't do anything wrong. I was young and naïve. Nobody is the culprit here but fate.'
'And you think that will make a difference?'
"Yes," she said quietly. "It will. It does, to Oliver, and to me."
Hermione's eyes widened as she finally let herself understand that sometimes, things are not meant to be. Having Viktor's baby was one of those times. She had done nothing wrong.
She lay back on the bed, looking at the ceiling, and felt as if the sun had just broke through a week long storm cloud. Her entire inner conscience was undergoing a change, and it was all for the better. The guilt and shame she had been feeling over the miscarriage was shedding like a second skin, from the inside. The pain was still there, but it was lessened by the thought that she didn't have to punish herself any longer. Healing could begin, inside and out.
Tears overflowed her eyes to slide down the sides of her face, but they were not the tears of a broken woman any longer. Finally, the healing tears of laying the past to rest fell as she lay there and let the icy core of her own torment melt away. This would explain why she didn't hear the soft tap at her door.
"Hermione?" Oliver said quietly, opening the door slightly. His eyes fell on the figure on the bed, unaware of the drama unfolding there. He closed the door silently and walked over to the bed.
Soft brown eyes filled with both sadness and wonder were focused on the ceiling as he approached. His heart ached to see her like that as he sat carefully on the chair next to the bed. Hermione was still unaware of his presence as her dark lashes fell to her cheeks as she took a deep breath. Small hands reached and wiped her face and he breathed a little easier, the knot in his chest loosening. He closed his eyes and sat back, trying to understand this amazing, complicated woman.
Hermione began to sit up and realized she wasn't alone. She observed Oliver sitting next to the bed, his eyes closed. A smile crept over her face and she could feel her eyes begin to tear up again, but she quickly wiped the telltale signs away and reached for his hand.
He had heard the bed move, but wasn't about to open his eyes to see all the pain residing in her. Her sniffles were not very loud, but he still caught them. Then a surprising thing happened. A soft warm hand touched his fingers and became interlaced with them. It was then that Oliver opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. The sweet smile on her face was in total contrast with what he walked in on, and to be frank, he was a bit confused.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hi," he replied. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Are you alright?"
Hermione smiled deeper and nodded, looking at their hands. She gave a little tug to pull him closer and he rose to sit next to her on the bed. Her other hand began to play with his as they both watched. Her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath and started to say what she had held onto for so long.
"Oliver," she began, stopping as his finger landed on her soft lips.
"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to explain."
Hermione's eyes softened and almost overflowed with the tears she wanted to shed. A small smile graced her lips as she said, "I want to."
"You don't have to," he insisted.
"Yes, I do," she said, her eyes looking into his. "When we talked the other night, you asked me about Viktor, and I told you some of what happened, but not all. I want to tell you, not because it really matters, but because you deserve to know. And more importantly, I trust you to know about it," she finished.
Oliver raised his brows and nodded for her to continue.
"After Viktor started leaving on his promotional trips, I discovered that I was," and she paused. This wasn't easy, even after her revelation, but she harnessed her Gryffindor courage and said, "I discovered I was pregnant."
Oliver's eyes widened as he absorbed this detail. 'Pregnant?' he said to himself.
Hermione watched his face and rushed onward.
"I was about seven weeks along when I lost the baby," she finished, several tears flowing down her face.
Looking at their hands, she took a shaky breath and continued. "I hadn't been taking care of myself, and morning sickness was not just in the morning for me. Missing so many classes and lectures, I was driving myself like a demon, trying to keep up with my studies," she said, the shame still coloring her tone of voice.
Oliver lifted her face to look in her eyes.
"Were you alone?" he asked. She nodded. His mouth settled in a grim line and he wanted to punch something, preferably a large Bulgarian face. He tenderly placed his arms around Hermione and held her, his hands rubbing along her back.
"Things between us had been continuing downhill, because of the pregnancy. The nausea and any thought of a physical relationship didn't go well together," Hermione continued, her head resting in the crook of his chest and shoulder. A soft kiss was placed on her forehead and Oliver pulled back.
"What did he say?" he asked.
"Nothing really. I was not very receptive to any overtures at that point, being so heartbroken. And he wasn't in the frame of mind to offer them. Any chance we had died with our child. We just drifted apart, although I've realized from this perspective that we died a long time before then," Hermione said, and stopped. She wasn't going to bash Viktor to Oliver, who she could tell was keeping a stranglehold on his emotions as it was.
Oliver nodded and looked across the room thoughtfully.
"Is this what you were afraid to tell me?" he asked, looking back to her.
Nodding, Hermione said, "I wasn't sure how you would react. But more than that, I blame or I should say, blamed myself for it. I realize now that sometimes things happen, and not for the best or worst of reasons. They just happen." Her hand reached up and wiped at her eyes.
"Can I ask you something?" Hermione said, her eyes looking into his. She was looking for a change in him, anything to let her know that he wasn't okay with this. Oliver nodded.
"Does knowing this change anything?" she said quietly.
Oliver's eyes flared as he set his jaw. Hermione tried to look down from his obvious displeasure but he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him.
"Nothing could make me care for you any less than I do already, no matter what you said to me," he said deeply, his voice harsh, but gentle at the same time. Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she nodded. Oliver pulled her into an embrace and held her tightly.
"Thank you," Hermione said in a whisper.
They relaxed into each other, enjoying the quiet and peace that had finally come to one woman's soul.
A/N//climbs unto gallows with rope in hand/ I apologize for taking so long. This chapter was particularly difficult to get through for some reason. Besides life going on all around me, the ideas were just not coming. I figure I came down with a dreaded form of writers block, meaning the desire was there, but not the words. Sorry again. Please read and review and I hope you enjoy. /meekly hands rope to fans/readers to let them do with it what they will./
