Thanks to the overwhelming amount of reviews in such a short time, here is a new chappie. Please enjoy. There's some Oliver/Hermione fluff AND protective brother stuff.

I love dramas.

Chapter Four: Diagon Alley

Hermione stood in the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron and breathed in the musky scent of alcohol and dust so deep her chest ached. Then she let it out, and followed the barreling Mrs. Weasley though the tables to the back door.

She heard Oliver land behind her. Why does HE have to come, she thought sulkily, and resisted the temptation to turn around.

His sweeping footsteps sounded behind her, and she hurried faster, managing to bang her hip on the edge of a table. She cursed loud enough to make Tom look up, but Harry was there, helping her up, before Oliver could move.

She smiled and leaned on Harry as they maneuvered to the back.

There, it was a few wand taps, and Hermione was stepping away from Harry to look at Diagon Alley. She had missed it's familiarity, and the bustling of the wizards and witches who bartered and window shopped up and down the streets.

Trying to avoid Ginny, Hermione slipped past Mrs. Weasley and into Flourish and Blotts. The door clanged behind her, and she had to stop, to take in the bookshelves and scowling clerk and new-books counter.

Then she wandered up and down the aisles, grabbing the occasional book and text for class, until she had a pile that went over her head.

That made moving rather difficult, and she tripped over a staircase, books tumbling down with her following, onto something soft and lumpy and blonde.

Blonde.

Hermione jumped up, and managed to have half her things when the all-too familiar Malfoy body untangled itself from the floor, and stood up. He probably wouldn't recognize her, but all the same . . .

"So, beauty, what are you doing taking tumbles off of second-story railings?" His pick-up line was sadly lacking in verbal, but his voice smoothed it down. It fell like slime down her back. If he knew who she was, then he wouldn't have called her beauty.

And that really pissed her off.

"Fuck off," she said calmly, and finished gathering her books. When she stood, they all toppled off again, and she sighed impatiently. Malfoy was still smiling.

"Which part did you not get? The FUCK, or the OFF?" asked Harry from behind Malfoy, two books under his right arm, glowering. By himself, he was an impressive figure.

"What, she your property, Potty?" replied Malfoy, grinning as Hermione finished piling her books, and was trying to find a way to lift them.

"I wouldn't think so. Incest isn't really my thing, Ferret Boy," smiled Harry, and he shoved past Malfoy to help Hermione with her books. She smiled at him gratefully, and was about to stand with what was left when Malfoy shoved him hard, so both sat on the floor.

"Since when do you have a sister, Potter?" Malfoy asked, arms folded.

"For a month Malfoy."

"Oh, really?" Then Hermione decided to join the conversation.

"Hermione Elizabeth Potter, formerly Hermione Granger. Repugnant to meet you." The young Malfoy was shocked into silence for a few seconds.

"Wow. Two Potters. Didn't know your mum could spawn so quickly," he said finally, recovering his voice. Hermione's eyes narrowed, and without thinking she threw a book from her pile with stunning accuracy at his head.

Malfoy ducked a second too late, and the book collided with a loud thump. "Bitch!" he cried, and lunged at Hermione, who, suddenly faced with 140 lbs of muscle, cowered backwards.

Harry was in the way too fast to see, and there was another thump as the two collided and smashed backwards into a display.

Oliver Wood suddenly materialized, and pulled Hermione to her feet with one hand and shoved her out the door with the other. They were outside and breathing heavily in a matter of seconds. Oliver looked down at Hermione, who found herself a victim of a hard gaze.

"Are you going back in there?" she asked him, putting down the books she had neglected to pay for. They only tugged on her conscience for a moment.

"No." he replied quickly, and nodded in the general direction of the alley. "Do you need to be anywhere?" he asked. Hermione said the first thing that came to mind.

"Possets, please."

Ginny was ecstatic when Hermione stepped through the door of the very pink shop. A skinny witch dressed in green lined with gold flipped through Witch Weekly behind the counter.

"So you DID come," she sighed with relief, and rushed forward to usher Hermione farther into the sea of clothing. Hermione involuntarily shuddered.

"So, you'll need blouses, skirts, dress robes, and some shoes," said Ginny, sweeping Hermione with as single, experienced gaze. With a sigh, Hermione succumbed herself to the on slaughter of clothing and shoes.

So an hour later she had uniforms, and was slowly picker her way through a rack of dress robes. With an excited shriek, Ginny rushed towards Hermione with yards of red fabric and black lace. Smiling, she pushed Hermione into a dressing room with the dress.

Hermione came out a moment later, dressed in a red dress with a top layer of fine black lace. Her hair shimmered from the red, and her skin glowed. Her eyes looked like jewels in her finely-formed face. Ginny gasped, and turned to look again.

"I think Oliver should offer his opinion . . ." said Ginny carefully, and was out the door before Hermione could sneeze. She had turned to change when the door clanged, and there was a flurry of hastened footsteps behind her.

She had almost made it to the dressing room when Ginny grabbed her arm and spun her around, swirling the dress out in all it's red silk glory. The clerk had abandoned her magazine, and was watching them now.

The way Oliver's eyes widened when he was saw Hermione, and the way she looked back at him, beautiful in her dress, and the way Ginny almost rubbed her hands in delight. Matchmaking was only third to fashion and school.

The effect was ruined in a moment though, because Harry burst in, looking for the girls for lunch, and he saw Hermione and Oliver and Ginny in their circle, and his eyes looked thunderous.

"Lunch, anyone?" he asked a little too harshly, and the reverie was broken.

"Sure, let me change," said Hermione, disappearing into the dressing room. Oliver looked for a moment like he was going to stop her, but Harry's look stopped him.

In five minutes, Hermione was back with the dress gathered in her arms, and she handed it over with the uniforms and some Galleons. Harry and Oliver were still squared off, until she touched her brother on the shoulder, and they left.

The clerk shook her head and was reaching for her magazine when she stopped. Drama like that rarely happened in Possets. Oliver Wood, the famous Quidditch player, against Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, over a girl.

She scribbled something on a piece of paper, and put it aside to give to her friend Marie with Witch Weekly. Maybe they could making something of it. Even interview her.

Things like that rarely happened to a clerk.

Lunch was a tumultuous affair, ending with some sort of manly clasp that signified the end of the fued. Hermione sighed in relief, and shared a glance with Ginny, after which both burst into laughter that they couldn't explain.

Hermione and Ginny had both realized at the same moment that something interesting was happening.

And Oliver's announcement of his acceptance of the Hogwarts' Flying Teacher position simply made it that much more delicious.

For sure, Hermione's last year at Hogwarts would be a fun one. A new teacher, Head Girl, and a whole new identity.

At least she had the gown to do it in.

Hermione laughed again.

Yet another short chapter, due to popular demand.

THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING! See what happens when you review a lot? I write more.

But vacation is coming up (tomorrow) and though I may write, it'll take some time to post.

Sorry, but hey -- that's life.

This, is Walgreen's.

Hehehehehehehehehehe.