DISCLAIMER: Nope, aint mine. Someday, I may own a story. But as for now, I just own a plot and a big mortgage! Enjoy.
Monday morning dawned just as beautiful as the day they arrived at the Wood Estate. Hermione had packed and gotten ready to return to London the night before. Although, not for the first time in her life, sleep was not ready to come to her. Sitting in the Wood's kitchen, listening to the morning birds, she reflected on her lost night of sleep.
SUNDAY EVENING
Once Oliver had left and she was finished packing, she again visited the library to finish gathering all her notes and any leftover items. Walking around the dark room, she was filled with a sense of longing and sadness. She would truly miss this room; in fact, she would miss everything about this place. The gardens, the comforting foyer, the views; all of it. As she trailed her fingers over the desk for one last time, she smiled. The hope that filled her at that moment was so encompassing, she couldn't help it. She felt, deep down, she would return here one day.
Hermione lay in bed for hours trying to sleep, but it would not come. Given all the emotional turmoil of the day, she figured she would be out like a light. Her mind raced with all she had learned of the books, Oliver, and with a bit of surprise and relief, herself.
Lying there, her mind went over every detail of the books that she could remember. All the facts and information was filed away neatly in her memory and could be accessed easily. She had learned to glean specific facts and hold them as markers while she was still at Hogwarts and it had served her well throughout her studies and during the course of her job.
Cuddling a pillow to her, she moved onto thoughts of Oliver. Every smile, touch, and feeling he had evoked in her swept through and warmth spread from her soul outward. While she was surprised by the feelings he had developed for her, she was not foolish enough to allow her head to get away from her. Her sensible nature was just too strong to allow herself to fall dramatically into his arms and give herself over to him. Perhaps she was still a bit wary, but being so wasn't necessarily a bad thing, in her mind.
Turning over in the bed to look out the window, Hermione reflected on the steps she had taken that day. Hearing Oliver express his acceptance of any and all past history as pertained to her was a strong motivator to her self discovery. It allowed the healing process she had denied herself for so long to begin. Her teary eyes caused the room to become blurry, yet again. Except for those closest to her, she had never experienced that sense of unconditional acceptance; from her earliest memories, acceptance had always been derived from her achievements, in school and out. To have that from Oliver was a treasure she recognized clearly. Wiping her eyes yet again, she smiled and snuggled the pillow closer, finally allowing her mind to rest and rejuvenate itself.
Sipping the tea she had made earlier, Hermione felt a small stab of fear as she thought about what would happen once they returned to London. Oliver was still on medical leave from Quidditch because of his injury. He had mentioned an appointment later that week, but hadn't really spoken of the details while they were working. He didn't seem to be in much pain, but what he let show and what he truly felt were two different things, as she could attest to.
Hearing voices from the hall, Hermione sat up and refilled her cup, being sure to wipe all signs of worry and fatigue from her face. Putting on a small smile, she observed Oliver and Kyla as they walked in, and felt an odd tug in her stomach. Oliver had obviously just taken a shower, as his hair was slightly wet and his face freshly shaven. Kyla had her arm around his waist, looking up at him with love, and perhaps a touch of sadness?
Hermione said brightly, "Good morning."
Oliver's eyes swung to her and he smiled wide. "Good morning, Mione."
Squeezing her son's waist, Kyla smiled and repeated Oliver's greeting. She walked over to the teapot and poured herself a cup.
Oliver walked by his mother and asked, "How did you sleep?" taking the seat next to Hermione.
"Okay," Hermione said. She had caught a scent of Oliver's aftershave, causing her mind to fog a bit as the tug in her belly became stronger. Her smile wavered.
"Well, I slept horribly," Oliver whispered in her ear, reaching across Hermione for a cup. A flush found its way onto Hermione's face as she watched him pour his tea.
"I'm sorry," she replied. Oliver grinned.
"I'm not. Very interesting things, dreams," he said with a quiet chuckle. Hermione's eyes flared open at his blatant insinuation that he dreamt about her. Small beads of sweat sprung between her breasts as she tried to imagine what he had dreamt about.
"So," Kyla said, causing them both to jump a little, "what time do you leave?"
"Our portkey is for 1," Oliver said, looking out the window. He needed to stop flirting with Hermione before he embarrassed the both of them. He was sure his mother wouldn't take kindly if he acted on the thoughts racing through his mind.
"Well, then, we have time for a nice breakfast," Kyla said happily, noting to herself the flush on Hermione's face. She had caught what Oliver had whispered but was not about to interfere. Their relationship had very good prospects and she was thrilled that her suspicions were correct. She rose from the table to begin preparing the meal.
Hermione looked over to Oliver as she reached for his hand. He turned to her and threaded her fingers through his, her deep brown eyes searching his; she smiled. Oliver brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her slender fingers. Then he winked. Hermione laughed. Her qualms about returning to London were driven down as optimism reared its head once more in her life.
As they left the Wood Estate, Hermione and Oliver each to their own thoughts, Kyla watched from the door. Her heart was light at the thought of her son finally finding his destiny, but she didn't want to get too far ahead of the situation. Whatever lay ahead, she hoped they could weather it together. She waved to the couple when they turned to give one last goodbye. Perhaps she could help the situation along when she returned to London herself. A smile crossed her face as she turned and closed the door.
Stillness hovered in the room, much like the dust motes floating in the air. The sunshine pouring through the wall of windows caught each small fleck. Abruptly, two people appearing in the warm living room with a POP caused the dust motes to swirl and dart around, before settling again once more.
Hermione opened her eyes and swayed slightly. Her hand flying up to her head, she shook off the dizzy spell. Her blinking eyes took in the slightly dusty appearance of the living room and she wondered what her flat would be like. Suddenly, her nerves tingled as she realized she was in Oliver's living room once more.
Oliver himself was feeling a bit unsettled as he got his bearings. He coughed slightly and said, "Why don't I put this away and we can have some tea," indicating his trunk.
Hermione nodded as he smiled at her and left the room. She sat down on the couch to wait. Her face felt hot and she realized how much warmer it was here in the south of England. 'I will never complain about the rainy season again,' she thought to herself, shrugging out of her sweater.
Oliver returned almost immediately, carrying a small yellow bundle.
"You left this here the other day," he said, handing it to Hermione.
"Oh," she said with a smile on her face, taking the sweater. "Thank you. I hadn't even realized."
"It was stuck down in the chair. My mum gave me the third degree over that," he chuckled. Hermione laughed along with him. He reached down for her hand and lifted her easily to her feet.
"Now, how about some tea?" he asked, stroking her hand with his thumb.
"Um, actually, I should probably get to the office, to update Evan. I did tell him I would come in when I returned," Hermione said, a look of contrition on her face.
"Oh, well. Alright. Raincheck, then?" Oliver asked quietly.
"Of course. I think that we should meet again sometime this week to go over any new progress I have made, don't you?" she said, the small smile back on her face.
Oliver grinned. "Absolutely. What day would be best for you?"
Hermione's eyes looked down as she contemplated. "Um, how about Thursday evening?"
"Um, yes. That would be fine. I do have an appointment earlier that afternoon, but we can meet here around 6?" he said eagerly.
Hermione looked up to his eyes, seeing a small sparkle there. She smiled as she nodded.
"Okay, Thursday it is. Are you going to apparate to the office?" he asked.
"No, I need to floo to my flat and return my things first, before I go see Evan," she replied, bending to pick up her trunk. Oliver took hold of it before she had the opportunity and walked over to the fireplace, setting it inside. Hermione followed.
They both stood for a moment looking at one another before Oliver pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. She breathed in deeply and sighed. His hands rubbed small circles along her spine and she squeezed slightly, careful not to hurt his back. They both leaned back at the same time, eyes meeting.
Oliver's hand swept across her cheek and lifted her chin to touch her lips with his. Hermione leaned into the kiss and into him. His hand slid along her jaw to her hair, where he couldn't resist wrapping his fingers in her silken curls once more.
Hermione ended the kiss slowly, leaning back slightly and felt the feathery touch of lips on her forehead.
"I'll see you on Thursday," she said, pulling away. Her hand grasped his and squeezed before she stepped into the fireplace. Oliver's eyes watched her as she said distinctly, "Home", and with a last glimpse of his handsome face, she vanished.
Oliver watched her leave and instantly felt the emptiness. His home was no longer a place for him to relax. Now, it was just walls and a roof, without the light of Hermione's companionship to fill it. He thrust his hand through his hair.
"Man, this is going to be torture," he said to the quiet room.
Once she had returned her trunk to her flat and changed her clothes, Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley. She smiled as she walked through Flourish & Blott's, saying hello to all the employees. They all looked at each other after she walked by with a raised brow and shrugs.
Her knock was met with a slightly muffled 'Come in' and she opened the door.
"Good afternoon, Hermione," Evan said, rising from his desk. He reached for her hand as she approached, shaking it with two short pumps before they both sat down again.
"Good afternoon, Evan," Hermione said, her smile still in place.
"So, what did you find out?" he asked, getting right down to business.
"It was just as we suspected," she replied, covering all the pertinent facts. Even though the confidentiality charm was not in place yet, she still practiced the art of saying little but giving what she felt she could.
Evan nodded as he worked on a stack of papers in front of him. This was a common practice between them.
Once Hermione had finished, Evan looked up, pushing his glasses onto his head.
"So, sounds like a trip to the Conservatory will still be required," he observed.
"Looks that way, Evan," Hermione replied. She still didn't like it, but it was the only option left.
"How soon?" he asked.
"Well, I would prefer to go next week, with all the information still fresh in my mind. If you need me here though, I can go-"
"No, no. Next week will be fine. Student purchases won't be starting until the end of July, early August, so this is actually the best time for you to go," he said, leaning back in his chair.
"Okay."
"Will Mr. Wood be accompanying you?" Evan asked.
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and then she smiled.
"I know how vested he is in his books. Takes after his father that way," Evan said, reminiscing.
"He is very involved, but I am not certain if he should be at this juncture," Hermione countered, sitting up straight. She schooled her expression and continued, "I don't know when he will be cleared to play again, so it is entirely up to his doctors, I suppose."
Evan nodded gravely. "Well, it matters little really. But, I always say, two heads-"
"Are better than one, yes," Hermione completed the phrase with a grin.
"Exactly. Well, is there anything else?" Evan said, his eyes diverting to the papers on his desk once again.
"No, I think that covers it," she answered.
"Okay. Now, you take the rest of the day off, get rested up this evening, and we will go over what has happened in your absence tomorrow morning, bright and early," Evan said, smiling as he looked up to her. She nodded.
"Thank you, Evan."
Good day, Hermione," Evan replied, already working on another stack of paperwork.
"Good day."
Leaving the bookstore, Hermione stood in the street, looking around for something to do this afternoon. It was only three and she had the rest of the day to herself. She began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron, thinking she might grab an early bite to eat and then go back to her flat. Her boring, sparse, empty flat. Her thoughts turned to the past four days and how much she had actually enjoyed herself, the dramatic moments aside.
As she walked, the bright flyers of the Weasley twin's joke shop caught her eye, and she felt pulled to the door. There weren't many customers, which was odd. Opening the door, she smiled as the aroma of sweets enveloped her. She browsed the edges of the shop, admiring the new items and old favorites alike.
"And what would the lovely miss like for today?" a deep voice asked from behind her. Hermione turned to see the smiling face of George Weasley looking at her.
"I am just browsing, sir. And you are quite impertinent to suggest that I am unattached," Hermione said, a mock scowl on her face.
George grinned. He was quite used to Hermione's tricks. "It has become necessary to investigate the left hand of most females to enter our establishment, as we have been cursed more than a few times," he said, with an air of disdain for her tone.
"Ri-ight," Hermione said, her lips turning up at the corners.
They both looked at the other people in the shop and then started to snicker. She reached up to kiss his cheek and smiled as he looked surprised.
"George, you know better than to proposition the cust-"Fred said as he walked up behind them. "Oh, Hello Hermione."
"Hello, Fred," she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek also. The reaction was priceless. Fred's mouth fell open and he stepped back, looking at her like she was a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Hermione and George both started to laugh.
"Honestly, Fred. You'd think you've never been kissed before," George said between his laughter.
"Not by her, I haven't," Fred replied, looking at Hermione closely. "Who are you?"
She smiled. "I am me, my dear Fred. Now, do either of you have time for a cup of tea?" she asked, looping her arms through theirs.
A/N: Thank you to you all for being so patient. First of two new chapters is up, so I will get cranking on the next part of the saga of Hermione and Oliver. Also, for those of you with delicate sensabilities, the next chapter is quite graphic, if it is even allowed at all. I hope so, as I tried to make it sensual, but not COMPLETELY vulgar. Let me know how I did. ;) TA
