CHAPTER FOUR

Summary: Hermione suffers a terrible attack and who should find her but one of Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelors. The relationship that builds between them is one no one saw coming, but no one predicted the danger that would surely follow. Post-War. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events or characters, they belong to J.K Rowling. I am not making a profit from this fanfic, everything is purely for entertainment purposes.

Page count: 11

Wood Estate - Sunday 22nd November 1998

"Hoo are ye feeling?" he asked, walking into the bathroom, Hermione was lounging in the now empty and dry bath tub.

She was wearing black leggings, white converse and a black and red checkered shirt, she pulled her hair up into a knot on top of her head and she was free of makeup. It was odd, he had never seen a woman dressed so casual before, he was used to women dressing to kill and throwing themselves at him, literally dressing to kill, he didn't know how they managed to stand in the heels they wore, let alone move in the tight clothing without killing themselves.

"Better thanks," she gave him a small smile. "A bath is just what I needed, where's Merlin?"

"Eatin' breakfast in the kitchen, come on, a bet yer starving, anno a am," he reached into the bath and picked her up, before leaving the bathroom and making his way to the kitchen. Her clean scent hit his nose, the scent of jasmine and lemons, an odd combination but they worked well together.

"You do realise that you don't have to carry me, right? I can walk."

"Naw, ye cannae."

"Fine, I can crawl," she amended.

He chuckled at her. "As amusing as tha' is, a'd rather jus' carry ye tae the kitchen, don' want taa risk further injury." She sighed but wrapped her arms around his neck for balance.

"What's Merlin eating?" she asked him.

"A made bacon an' sausage."

"You cook?" she asked intrigued.

He shrugged. "Aye, growing up a spent a lot af time in the kitchen with the house-elves an' they taught mae, though a have me own way af doin' things an' they used tae get mad at mae when a became auld enough tae use the oven by meself." She laughed at him. He wasn't sure why he had told her that, he had never told anyone that before. "What aboot ye, do ye cook?"

She snorted at him. "No, I have the special talent of burning water, melting plastic and setting fire to the kitchen utensils."

He looked at her before he started laughing. "Ye joking?"

"I wish, I'm a rubbish cook, I can make one meal and one meal only, spaghetti bolognaise, anything else and you'll have food poisoning." He chuckled at her. "I'm okay with breakfast food though, mainly pancakes, everything else I butcher, I can't even cook toast without setting off the Fired Detection Charms." He laughed. "No, cooking's not for me, now baking, that's my thing, I could stand in the kitchen baking for hours. Cakes, cookies, flapjacks, tiramisu, soufflés, cheesecakes, meringue, biscuits, brownies, crème brulee, muffins, you name it and I've baked it."

"A havnae even heard af half af those things," he commented.

She gasped. "Oh that is criminal!" she spoke in outrage and he raised an eyebrow. "That will have to be rectified, some day you will experience the wonder of a crème brulee."

"If ya say so," he shrugged.

"I do," she promised.

He shook his head as he entered the kitchen and she looked around, a look of awe on her face and he smiled slightly. He moved them over to the table and deposited her down in a chair, she waited for him to sit and then she picked up her tea and took a sip.

"How do you know how I take my tea?"

"Merlin, he helped mae."

She shook her head.

When they finished up breakfast Oliver picked up their empty plates and mugs and took them to the sink whilst Hermione slid off her seat and crawled along the floor with Merlin following her. She looked behind her to see that Oliver hadn't noticed and she grinned and continued on her way out of the kitchen.

She had crawled into the living room and she took the chance to look around since she hadn't yet. The living room was huge and done in light grey and white. Just like in the kitchen, one wall was made completely of floor to ceiling glass windows, giving a beautiful view of the grounds, the other three were light grey and the floor was white marble. In the middle of the room were two grey corner suites, facing each other, almost making a rectangle shape, and they had grey and white cushions on. There was a large glass table in the centre with a grey rug. A simple, but large chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, the large white fireplace was on the right wall, a grey rug in front of it preventing soot from getting on the floor when people stepped out, and a large and expensive looking clock sat above it. There was a small bar on the back wall, the cabinet filled with tumblers and wine glasses, along with elf wine, mead, fire whiskey and butter beer and there were a few stools. There were no photos or personal items on display. All in all, the room was rather bare, but she supposed it wasn't really used often.

"What are ye doin' now?" an amused voice asked her.

She turned her head to see Oliver lounging against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"I'm getting out of your way, I'm sure you have things to do and I don't want to distract you, you've already done enough for me, allowing for me to stay here since Thomas is an arsehole that's put me under house arrest." He snorted at her words. "I will not be a burden."

He sighed. "Granger, yer not a burden, an' it's the last time a'll say it. An' naw, a don' have anythin' better tae do, it's Sunday, me day aff, a've already been fer a fly around the grounds, now a jus' relax until a'm back at training in the morn. A'm not gunna let ye lock yerself oot af me way, ye are not in mae way, what kind af host would a be if a allowed ye tae do tha'?"

"You're a pain in the arse, can't I just wallow on my own?" she scowled.

His expression softened at her words. "Naw, ye cannae," he walked over to her and picked her up off the ground, moving her over to the corner suite, he sat her down on one and then he sat down next to her, slightly further down, giving her room.

"Merlin, get down!" Hermione scolded, when the large dog jumped onto the corner suite.

Oliver chuckled. "It's alright, Granger," he scratched Merlin's head, no longer feeling anxious around him, seeing that he had a really sweet and playful nature.

"No, Oliver, it's not alright, he could ruin the furniture even with magic protecting it, and this corner suite alone looks to have cost more than my entire flat."

He shrugged. "Doesn't bother mae, tha's what spells are fer, tae repair damage."

She sighed and then flopped back onto the couch. He watched her as she ran her hands over her face tiredly.

"Do ye want tae talk aboot it?" he asked her softly.

"No!"

"Maybe it would help ye."

"Look, Oliver, no offense, you've been great and all, really great actually, but I don't think talking about what happened to me with you is going to help."

"Why not? There's only three other people tha' know, Thomas, who ye see as an uncle, am a correct?" she nodded. "The Minister af Magic, who ye fought in battle with, correct?" she nodded again. "An' the Head Auror af The Magical Law Enforcement Department, but ye don' want tae talk tae him, correct?" she nodded. "Ye aren't gunna tell anyone, correct?" she sighed and nodded. "Tha' jus' leaves mae."

She pulled her hands away from her face and looked at him.

"I can't remember it, it might have happened, but I can't remember it, and for that I am thankful, that means that I can forget it ever happened."

"Ye shouldn't ferget, ye were sexually assaulted, raped, tha's a traumatising occurrence," he said gently.

"My body knows that, my subconscious knows that, but my mind doesn't and quite honestly, I prefer it this way. I want to live my life as normally as I can before my memory starts to return, who knows how it will affect me then?"

He could see her logic, but he didn't want to force her to talk to him.

"Okay, a have a question."

She looked at him again. "It's going to be highly personal isn't it?" she spoke with a raised eyebrow.

Yes, it was, it has been bothering him, why was she a virgin? She was beautiful, famous, had a respected job, and she was a war heroine, he guessed she had a lot of male attention, he just couldn't see the reasoning.

"Aye, it is," he agreed.

She sighed and then sat up, turning to face him and bringing her feet up and crossing her legs, this put Merlin between them and he was currently dozing.

"Go for it, it can't be any worse than some of the things reporters have asked me."

He watched her carefully. "Why were ye a virgin?" He expected her to blush, to splutter, to yell at him in outrage, but she didn't. She frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, it's not for the reason people think. I'm not against sex before marriage, I understand why people do it, they want to save themselves for the one they love, but the way I see it is, you can't truly know if you're right for someone if you don't know them in body, soul and mind. Sex changes things, it can make things great or make things worse, it's better to discover you're not meant for each other before you say I do." Her answer surprised him. "I'm also not a prude or a frigid bitch, despite what many of my class mates thought, I mean, I did date Viktor Krum after all."

"Ye did?" he said surprised. "The Viktor Krum, Vratsa Vultures, Viktor Krum?"

She looked at him amused. "Yes, that Viktor Krum," she laughed. "We dated for just over a year, but we broke up, it was fine with him being at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, but a long distance relationship is difficult to maintain. In the end we decided it was best to part ways, he was focusing on his Quidditch career and I was preparing for war," she shrugged. "Anyway, Viktor taught me a lot, he helped me find a confidence in myself I didn't even know I was capable of possessing."

"So why were ye a virgin?"

"Safety," she shrugged.

He frowned. "Safety?" he repeated confused.

She nodded. "To protect myself, there is magic involved in sex." He snorted. "I'm being serious, The Order of the Phoenix Headquarters was at a Black property that now belongs to Harry, you can imagine what the books in their library consisted of."

"Illegal, dark, archaic?"

"Right in one," she nodded. "When I was sixteen I found a book, I was curious and I started reading it, I was horrified by what I had learned. It was on sex magic, more specifically, virginal magic." He rose an eyebrow. "For a witch to lose her virginity is a dangerous thing, you have to be sure you can trust that person implicitly, you have to trust them not to take advantage of the power you are giving them over you." He looked at her like she was crazy. "Let's try this a different way, what happens when a virgin witch has sex?"

"She loses her virginity," he spoke slowly.

"Right, the hymen tears, what's common in virgins?"

"Pain?" he guessed.

"Yes, and?"

"A dunna, a've never had sex with a virgin."

She huffed. "Bleeding."

A look of understanding crossed his face. "Blood magic!" he exclaimed.

"That's it," she waved her hands about excitedly because he had figured it out. "Sex magic and blood magic, they are powerful and dark. If a witch willingly gives up her virginity, th person that she gave it to has power over her, even more so if they bleed. That person has the ability to control you, to enslave you, to take your magic." He looked horrified. "They say jump, you do it, they say kill that child, you do it, they say kill yourself, you do it. There is nothing you can do to stop it, it's effectively a form of the Imperius Curse. Luckily this form of magic hasn't been seen since the seventeen hundreds, there's also a ritual involved. This is why, when arranged marriages were formed between old Pureblood families, they wanted the bride to be a virgin, so the husband could control her."

"Logically I knew the probability of it happening to me was all but nil, but after what I'd learned, after what I'd read, it just frightened me and put things into perspective for me. And so, that's why I was a virgin, I just wanted to make sure that I could trust my partner, it had nothing to do with being frigid or waiting for marriage or love, I was just cautious," she shrugged. "But seeing as my virginity wasn't given freely, I'm not at risk of sex and blood magic, which strangely is a weight lifted off my shoulders, even though what happened to me is horrific, but I trust Kinsley and Jolkins to find the person that did this to me."

He stared at her.

"Besides, I still have some sexual experience," she shrugged. "Any more questions? This is a once in a life time opportunity."

"Naw pressure, a don' doubt ye have people tha' would kill tae be in the same position af ye bein' honest with mae."

She nodded. "Probably, I receive owls daily, requests for interviews, photo shoots, magazine spreads, things like that, I tend to ignore them."

"So, what do a want tae know aboot Hermione Granger?" he spoke aloud with a frown.

"It's hard now, isn't it?" she smirked.

"Aye," his frown deepened. "Yer've put mae on the spot."

"Well, you better be quick, this hour of honesty wears off in ten minutes."

"What's yer favourite colour?"

She stared at him and then she started laughing. "What's your favourite colour?" she repeated.

"A panicked!" he exclaimed, waving his hands about madly, causing her laughter to grow and she fell backwards, landing on her back on the soft cushions of the corner suite. He watched her before he started laughing too.

"Well, Mr. Wood, since you asked, my favourite colour is midnight blue."

A smirk pulled at his mouth. "Ye do know tha' Puddlemere's main colours are yellow, white an' midnight blue, right?"

"Are they?" Ahe wasn't being sarcastic; he could tell she was genuinely surprised by what he had told her.

"Hoo do ye not know tha'?"

"I never understood Quidditch," she shrugged and he stared in disbelief. "I attended every match to support my friends and Gryffindor, but in all honesty, I spent most of the time either confused or with my eyes shut since Harry was a nightmare to keep alive." He chuckled, he was well aware of Harry's bad luck in Quidditch. "I mean seriously, first year, a jinxed broom, second year, a jinxed bludger and his bones being removed from his arm by that idiot Lockfart." He snorted. "Third year, dementors, fourth year was the Triwizard Tournament, fifth year, he was banned by Dumbitch." He snorted again. "And sixth year, well, he actually won the cup."

"A see yer point," he nodded and she laughed at him.

"So, Mr. Wood, seeing as you know the answer to my favourite colour, which by the way, Harry and Ron don't even know because they're clueless to anything I tell them about myself, I think it's fair that I know your favourite colour in return."

He shrugged. "Midnight blue."

"Twins," she grinned and he chuckled. "Anymore questions?"

"A cannae think af any," he sighed and she chuckled. "Can we have an honest hour in the morn? Then a have chance tae compile questions."

She snorted. "You make it sound like an interview." He chuckled. "Fine, we can have an honest hour tomorrow, it's the least I can do seeing as everything you've done for me."

"A havnae done anythin'."

"Yes, you have, you rescued me, you brought me into the privacy of your home, which by the way is beautiful. You got myself and my dog medical treatment, you allowed me stay the night, you refuse to let me leave and are making me follow Thomas' orders. You helped me get to the bathroom, you made me breakfast and you fed my dog," she spoke, her eyes were shining with gratitude and he found himself mesmerised by them, before he shook his head.

"Anyone would've done the same."

"No, Oliver, they wouldn't have," she spoke softly and with a shake of her head. "Others would've likely taken advantage of me, particularly if it was someone from the opposite side of the war that escaped a sentence in Azkaban. Anyone could've left me there to die. But you went above and beyond, you saved me, you've shown me more kindness in twelve hours, than anyone has ever bestowed upon me in my lifetime." He was surprised by her confession. "You're a good person, Oliver, you're a hero, it's people like you that make this world a better place," she looked down at her hands and he just stared at her, no one had ever called him that before. Handsome, yes, brave, yes, but never a hero.

He cleared his throat. "A'm sure others have saved ye befere."

"Not really, well, Harry and Ron saved me from a mountain troll in my first year, my second year I as petrified by the basilisk, third year was a mess, fourth year I was put into an enchanted sleep and tied to the bottom of The Black Lake for the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. Fifth year I almost died, sixth year, once again a mess, and the year on the run was a nightmare, I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, I thought she was going to break me, I thought I was going to end up in St Mungo's if she didn't kill me."

He stared.

"Ron was the reason I needed rescuing from the troll in the first place, he was the reason I wasn't in the great hall, instead I was crying in the girl's bathroom. I was revived from the petrifaction along with the other students, Mrs. Norris and Sir Nick, third year I travelled in time to save Sirius Black. Fourth year, I was at the bottom of the lake because Viktor had to find me, I was his task, he rescued me so he could win the task. Fifth year, I was given a lot of medical attention, not because I was me, but because I was Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best friend, he needed me to help get him through the war and so I couldn't die. I was in a coma, if I had been anyone else, they wouldn't have bothered. Harry and Ron rescued me at Malfoy Manor, but they didn't arrive until after I had suffered hours under the Cruciatus Curse," she shrugged. "No one has saved me because they could, because they generally wanted to help, so thank you, Oliver, truly, thank you," she looked up at him and he felt his stomach knot at the expression she wore on her face.

Before he could reply she spoke. "Right, honesty hour is over, what do you want to do?"

He shifted in his seat and shrugged.

"Want to play a game?"

"What game?"

She pulled her wand and he only just realised that it was what was keeping her hair up, when she pulled it out, almost as if in slow motion, her mahogany curls fell around her face and spilled over her shoulders in a halo and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

She waved her wand and a box appeared. She leaned over and put it on the table, before sliding off the corner suite, crawling around to the other side of the table and sitting down on the floor, she opened the box and he was surprised when she removed several differently coloured and sized boxes.

"These are muggle board games; I conjured them from my flat, want to play with me?"

"Okay, what are they?" he asked, he also slid off the couch and sat on the floor, opposite her.

"Monopoly, Snakes and Ladders, Scrabble, Checkers, Yahtzee, Guess Who, Pictionary, Cluedo or we have a deck of cards, in which we could play Poker, Blackjack, Jacks, Twos and Eights, Gin Rummy, Black Maggie, Snap, Bingo, Five Card Turnover, Crash or Go-fish."

He stared at her. "Ye know hoo tae play all af those?"

"I do, I could teach you, they're fairly simple once you get your mind around it."

"Okay," he grinned. He was a very competitive person, once he learned the rules of the game, he would play to win. She had no idea what she had just unleashed upon herself.

"Which first, board game of card game?"

"Err, board game."

"Okay, Monopoly is all about buying properties and such with a few twists, Snakes and Ladders, we each have a playing piece and we take it in turns to roll the dice and we move along the board according to the number on the dice, if you land on a ladder you go up it, if you land on a snake, you have to go down, the first to reach the top wins. Scrabble is basically spelling. Checkers, a little like Chess only much, much simpler. Guess Who is simply a guessing game in which we have a series of photos in front of us and the other has to guess which one the opponent has chosen, through asking questions and elimination. Yahtzee, a game involving dice, Pictionary is a drawing and guessing game, but we don't have enough players to play that game, that leaves Cluedo, it's a mystery game in which you have to identify the suspect of a murder victim, the location and the murder weapon."

He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Let's start with Snakes an' Ladders, it sounds like it's the simplest."

"It is," she agreed, before taking the box and setting up the board and pieces.

It had long since grown dark outside, Oliver and Hermione had spent all day in the living room playing board games, only taking breaks for when Oliver cooked lunch and dinner and to use the bathroom, which was a little awkward for Hermione, but she was able to do it without needing Oliver's assistance.

Merlin was still asleep on the corner suite, Hermione and Oliver were surrounded by wizarding sweets, Hermione currently eating a Sugar Quill and Oliver a Liquorice Wand whilst they played Monopoly.

"Ha!" Hermione exclaimed. "Mr. Wood, go straight to jail."

He scowled. "A don' want tae."

"You have to, now get in jail and don't even think about bribing the prison guard to slip you a Liquorice Wand," she grinned, reaching over the table and taking his Liquorice Wand from him.

"Hey!" he protested, reaching over to take it back, but she batted his hand away.

"Nope, you're in jail, you do not get Liquorice Wands in jail," she said smugly. He scowled before moving his piece into jail.

"My turn," she picked up the dice and rolled them. Double twos, she moved her piece, she rolled her dice again, double ones, she moved her piece, she rolled her dice, double sixes.

"No!" she cried and Oliver started laughing.

"Straight tae jail, Miss. Granger," he said smugly.

She pouted, but picked up her piece and moved it next to Oliver's. He leaned over the table and took her Sugar Quill from her.

"Naw, yer in jail, ye don' get Sugar Quills in jail," he repeated her words and she scowled and childishly stuck her tongue out.

"Mr. Wood, you may pay your fine or roll the dice."

"Yer've had enough money oot oaf mae," he scoffed, he picked up the dice and rolled them and scowled when he didn't get a double.

Hermione picked up the dice and rolled them. "Yes! Double fives," she cried and she started doing a weird victory dance with her arms and he started laughing at her. She leaned over and took her Sugar Quill back.

"Thank you, Mr. Wood," she said smugly.

"Yer cheating, ye have tae be."

"Nope, you're just pants at Monopoly."

"But a beat ye at Snakes an' Ladders."

"And I beat you at Scrabble."

"Well a beat ye at Checkers," he gloated.

"But I won at Cluedo," she said simply.

"An' a beat ye at Yahtzee."

"And I won at Guess Who."

They stared each other down, realising what this means, there were seven board games, and they were tied for three wins each, Monopoly would be the tie-breaker and decide who was the King or Queen of Board Games.

"It's on," they both said with narrowed eyes and before Hermione could move her piece, the clock on the wall above the fireplace chimed.

They both looked up surprised.

"Hoo the hell is it midnight already?" Oliver asked confused.

"I know, there's no way we've been sat here for the last six hours without moving," she frowned. They looked at each other and then started laughing. "See, didn't I tell you board games can be fun?"

"Ye did," he nodded. She picked up her wand and waved it over the Monopoly board and it glowed red. "What was tha'?" he asked her.

"A charm that will keep everything the way it is, we can finish the game tomorrow, and now you can't cheat when I'm not here."

"A would never!" he said in mock outrage.

"Tell that to juggings," she snorted.

"Juggings is a real word," he defended.

"No, it's not, that's why you're pants at Scrabble," she laughed, he laughed with her.

"At least a can count."

"Okay, that was once."

"More like five times; since when does five plus six equal thirteen?"

"Since now, obviously," she replied, he snorted at her.

He looked at the clock and then sighed. "Come on, we better get some sleep, a have training in the mornin'," he stood up.

"Merlin," she called, he opened one eye to look at her. "Are you staying here or coming to bed?" he yawned and stretched before jumping off the corner suite and waltzing to Hermione's room. Hermione tutted. "He's already treating this place like he owns it."

Oliver chuckled before scooping Hermione into his arms, she squeaked and quickly flung her arms around his neck, scowling at him.

"If you insist on manhandling me, a little warning would be nice." He shrugged, not answering her. "Seriously, I can walk," she huffed. "I hate being the damsel in distress," she muttered and he chuckled.

"Ye cannae walk, so stop tryin' tae convince mae tha' ye can," he placed her on her bed and then stood back.

"Good night, Oliver," she spoke.

"Good night, Granger," he replied, before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.