CHAPTER FORTEEN
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: 12
Wood Estate – Wednesday 3rd December 1998
"Master Oliver, Master Oliver!"
Oliver groaned and his eyes fluttered open, seeing Bobby stood beside him and fiddling with his clothing.
"What is it, Bobby?" he asked, lifting a hand to rub it over his face.
"Your friends be here."
"Again?" he grumbled.
"Yes, Master, Bobby tells them to go, that Master be sleeping but they not listen. They want to see Master."
"Fuck sake," he grunted. He was going to kill them! "Thank ye, Bobby, a'll take care af them."
Bobby bowed and disappeared from view and Oliver sighed, turning his head to see that Hermione was sound asleep, her head resting on his shoulder and her hands still clutching at his practice robes.
He sighed a final time before carefully removing himself from Hermione's hold, she made a noise of protest and shifted in her sleep, but otherwise didn't wake. He quickly made his way out of Hermione's room and through the manor, down to the parlour and he entered the room with a less than pleased look on his face.
"What the hell do ye want, especially at this hour?" he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.
They all eyed him carefully, seeing him still in his practice robes despite it being close to eleven at night. Oliver was less than pleased to see Malloy, drunk as usual whereas the others appeared to be sober.
"Coach said you had a family emergency, we just wanted to make sure everything's alright." Pallie said with a shrug, and Oliver eyed them all carefully, knowing they were suspicious with his recent behaviour and they were hoping to catch him in a lie.
"Aye, me Ma was bitten by a gnome in her garden an' wanted me help tae get rid af it. She was jus' using it as an excuse tae see mae."
"Why? You visited her last week," Thompson spoke with a raised eyebrow.
"Anno a did, but she says a'm always tae busy tae visit her an' she wanted tae see mae. Now if ye don' mind, a would like tae get back tae bed, an' ye should do the same, a have a lot planned fer trainin' tamorrow an' ye gunna need tae be rested."
"Why were you sleeping in your robes?" Bishop asked him.
"A fell asleep whilst working on some new flyin' formations, not that it's any af yer business, now leave. This is my last warning, don' show up here unannounced or a'll have Bobby throw ye oot on yer arse next time."
Oliver noticed Malloy's mouth moving but no sound was coming out, he summarised that one of the team had placed a Silencing Charm on him, which Oliver was grateful for. Malloy was annoying enough when he was sober, when he was drunk he took it to a whole new level and he wasn't in the mood to be dealing with him.
They all eyed him strangely before they walked out of the parlour and to the entrance as a group, with Oliver following behind them.
"He's definitely hiding something," Pallie commented as they made their way to the apparition point.
"We'll find out sooner or later," Wilks shrugged. "Whatever it is, it won't stay secret for long."
Oliver made his way through the manor and to his bedroom, when he came to Hermione's room and stopped. The door was open and she was curled in on herself, making little whimpering noises in her sleep. Oliver debated whether he should leave her be and head to his own room, but he was reminded that he'd promised her he wouldn't leave her.
He walked into the room and removed his boots, before climbing back onto the bed, not bothering to change out of his practice robes. The moment he laid down, Hermione turned towards him in her sleep and shuffled closer to his warmth, her hand automatically gripping onto his robes and her whimpers soon died down and she was quiet.
Merlin shuffled in his sleep, curled up at the end of the bed and he made a snoring sound which made Oliver chuckle. He laid in silence, listening to Hermione's breathing before sleep claimed him once more.
Thursday 4th December 1998
When Oliver woke, it was to the feel of his robes being twisted and turned, being pulled away from his skin, only for it fall back against him. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, seeing that Hermione was still pressed against his side, only now her fingers were fiddling with his robes, twisting and turning, pulling and releasing the fabric in her fingers.
As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked up at him through her eyes lashes, her gaze locking on his, and neither of them spoke, just stared at each other.
"You stayed," she finally spoke in a whisper, sounding confused and lost, grateful and scared.
"Ye asked mae tae, an' a promised not tae leave ye," he replied, his voice a little groggy from sleep.
"Thank you," she replied in a whisper, before leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I know I must be a pain in the neck."
"Yer not, if ye need mae, then a'll be there fer ye."
"I know," she replied, "You have been from the day you saved me."
She fell quiet and Oliver thought she'd fallen asleep again, until the alarm on his wand started buzzing, letting him know he had to get up for training, and he heard her sigh.
"That's our cue," she said, pushing herself up and away from him. "Well, you go and get ready, I'll make breakfast, how do you feel about chocolate pancakes?"
"A feel ye spoil me," he replied.
"If only," she replied with a roll of her eyes, before climbing off the bed and leaving the room with Merlin following behind her.
When Oliver entered the kitchen it was to see Hermione putting ingredients into a bowl and mixing them all together, and he walked over to the counter and leaned against it, watching her movements carefully and putting them to memory, so he could attempt pancakes at some point in the future.
He watched as she poured the batter in the pan and it sizzled under the heat, and much to his surprise, she took the pan from the hob and gave it a toss, the pancake lifting from the pan, spinning in the air and landing back in the pan on the other side. He blinked in surprise and she chuckled at him.
"Not expecting that, were you?" she asked him and he shook his head. "It's the best way to ensure it's properly cooked on both sides, without damaging it or making a mess."
"Will ye teach mae?"
She looked up at him. "You want to teach you to make pancakes? Mr. Gordon Ramsay himself."
"Who?" he asked with a frowned.
"Famous muggle chef."
"Oh, an' aye, a want ye tae teach mae, a don' have the talent fer pancakes."
"I'll make you a deal, if I teach you how to make pancakes; you have to show me how you made that chicken pie the other day."
"Alright," he agreed.
"You'll have to be patient with me, I'm rubbish, seriously; you've never met such a hopeless cook in all your life."
"A doubt tha'," he snorted.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she shrugged, before rolling up the pancake and placing it on the plate with the others she'd made earlier, summoning the chocolate sauce, covering the entirety of the plate in it, along with placing a few strawberries on the plate. "When it comes to baking, presentation is everything," she told him after seeing his raised eyebrow.
He shook his head and picked up both plates, taking them over to the table whilst Hermione made herself busy with making their tea.
"What are ye plans fer taday?" Oliver asked her when she sat down.
He noticed her shift in her seat. "I think I'm going to stay in today."
"Ye shouldn't lock yerself away, what happened yesterday was unfortunate an' anno it scared ye, but ye cannae spend the rest af yer life hidin' away in the manor. Ye only needed mae tae come an' get ye 'coz a memory was triggered. Tha' can happen anytime, it can happen anywhere. Ye don' know what will set it aff, it's not good fer ye tae keep yerself hidden. Dinnae ye want tae visit Lee?"
She bit her lip and looked down at the table and nodded. "I did."
"Then visit him taday."
"He doesn't start work until one o'clock this afternoon."
"Plenty af time fer ye," he said.
"But what if I have another flashback? What if I panic?"
"If tha' happens, if somethin' frightens ye, all ye have tae do is let me know an' a'll come an' get ye an' bring ye home."
She looked up at him through her lashes.
"Did I get you in trouble yesterday? I didn't want to disrupt you when you were at training, but you were the first person that came to mind, you were the only person I trusted."
He shifted in his seat slightly, feeling his insides squirm at her admittance.
"Naw, a dinnae get in any bother, bein' Captain comes with a lot af advantages. Coach dinnae question mae when a left," he replied shrugging and lying slightly. "If ye need mae taday, a'll come an' get ye, Coach won't say anything."
"I'll think about it."
Puddlemere United Stadium
Oliver's eyes scanned the canteen as he ate his lunch that day. Hermione had made him ham and cheese bagels -and he had no idea what they were but Hermione assured him he'd like them- orange juice, an apple, and several liquorice wands knowing they were his favourite.
His eyes were trained on his teammates, them all scattered around the canteen and mixed in with the employees of the stadium. His eyes fell to Bishop, seeing that he appeared to be favouring one leg, after Kings had failed to stop a bludger and it smacked into Bishop's leg. His eyes then went to Malloy, seeing him holding his hands in his head, still suffering with a hangover and Oliver hadn't been kind with their training that morning.
Thompson was glaring at Wilks and had his arm pulled up against his chest, his snitch arm that had been caught by a bludger which Wilks had not seen, but the rest of the team had. Pallie held a hand to his side, and Oliver knew there was going to be a massive bruise there, after getting hit by a bludger which Wilks had failed to see again.
He didn't know what he was going to do. If the team didn't pull themselves together, they would never be ready for game season, and despite it still being eight months away, he was worried. They had their first practice match against the Pride of Portree in less than a month and he was already resigning himself to losing. He purposely gave them difficult drills to complete in order to push them to be better, but it was like they didn't care. It was as if the passion they had once had for Quidditch had died.
He sighed. With three of his players injured and one hung over, training was not going to go any better, so, he resigned himself to having a peaceful lunch break before returning to the pitch and having the training session from hell.
It was around three o'clock when the team had been called down to the Coach's box in order for them be yelled at by their Coach, before he calmed down enough to launch into a plan of action, trying to salvage the rest of the training session for that day.
Oliver had been listening carefully when his attention was drawn away from the coach and to the stands when he heard footsteps. When he looked up, he was more than surprised to see Hermione making her way towards the gathered team. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a pretty white blouse, a black pair of leather boots and had black robes over the top, and she was carrying a black medical bag in her hand, one that was similar to the one Thomas owned.
He stared at her in surprise as she fearlessly approached Coach Burton, obviously not being aware that he hated being interrupted when he was speaking to the team. Noticing her approaching, all eyes turned to her, several looking at her in surprise, obviously recognising her for who she was.
"I'm very sorry to interrupt, Coach Burton," she spoke politely and with a friendly smile on her face. "But I have been contacted by several of my patients that are in need of my healing services."
Much to Oliver's surprise, Coach Burton appeared to be star struck as he stared at Hermione blankly, before he cleared his throat and pulled himself together, turning his eyes to the team, searching for which ones had called her.
Bishop, Thompson and Pallie all stepped forward and Oliver blinked, having not known that Hermione's clients happened to be three members of his team. Almost half of his team!
"I thought Healer Dodd had seen to you," Coach Burton said.
"He has," the three replied together.
"Say no more," Coach Burton said with a sigh, knowing full well how useless the team healer was. They were all unsure of how he had passed his healer examinations.
"Thank you," Hermione spoke. "Kenny, I'll start with you, please take a seat."
She removed her wand from her pocket and conjured up two chairs. Bishop sat in the first chair and Hermione took the one opposite him, placing her medical bag down on the ground. Rather than Coach Burton continuing with his conversation and the team listening, they were all too busy staring at Hermione.
"What's the problem this time?" she asked Bishop.
"Bludger collided with my leg," he replied.
"Alright, I'll take a look at it."
She conjured a stool for Bishop to rest his leg on before using her wand to remove his boot and lifting his trouser leg up to have better access to his leg. Several of them winced when they saw the nasty bruise that covered his leg and Oliver saw the way she scowled at it as she muttered under her breath, waving her wand over his leg and doing God knows what.
"What treatment were you given?" she asked.
"A mild Pain Potion to take the edge off and an Episkey to mend the fracture in my leg."
"Bloody Idiot!" she muttered, but everyone still heard and couldn't help but snort at her.
"From what I can see, you should've been given a Skele-Gro Potion. A part of your bone has been chipped and that fragment has broken loose and is now floating about in your blood stream, if this fractured piece of bone somehow gets to your brain, heart or lungs, you'll die," she said seriously and everyone stared at each other in surprise. "I've removed the fragmented bone and you're safe now, but you'll have to have a Skele-Gro Potion to re-grow the piece of bone that is missing. I'm putting you on a Quidditch ban, you can't play until Saturday."
"Fine," Bishop sighed, apparently knowing Hermione well enough not to argue with her. "And I've had enough of dealing with your mistreated injuries long enough. The others could've been forgotten, but not this. Had you not called me and I hadn't spotted the mistake he made, it would've killed you. I'm having his healer's license for this."
"About time," Pallie snorted, before he winced and Hermione noticed.
"Come on then, Jack, your turn," she said, handing Bishop a potion and instructing him to take two drops, before taking the vial from him and he moved off the chair and put his boot back on, already beginning to feel better.
Pallie took his seat and lifted his jumper before Hermione could ask what was bothering him. Hermione's scowl reappeared as she stared at the large bruise covering his entire right side.
"Treatment?"
"Mild Pain Potion, he said it was fine."
"Fine my arse!" she fumed. "You've broken three ribs; did he even bother to scan you?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
"One of your ribs could've punctured your lung!" she struggled to contain her anger. "You're going to need a Skele-Gro Potion, and I'll give you a stronger Pain Relief, you're injuries will take longer to heal, so I'm sorry to tell you, you're on a Quidditch ban too, I don't want to see you anywhere near the pitch until Monday."
"Fine," he sighed.
"Take this for me, you're going to need the entire vial," she instructed, handing it to him and he did as was told, and quickly downed the Pain Potion afterwards, helping to numb the pain of his bones being re-grown. "I'll tend to your bruise later; I'll just take a look at Grady first."
On cue, Pallie stood from the chair and Thompson took his place, holding his arm out.
"Let me guess, bludger," she said and he nodded. She sighed loudly, before running scans over his arm. "You've also got a fracture, thankfully it's not as serious as I thought it was going to be. You need to take one drop of Skele-Gro to seal the fracture, and you'll be good to play by tomorrow."
She handed him the potion before running her hands through her hair in frustration, and she turned her attention to the staring teammates and Coach.
"Would one of you mind being a dear and fetching the terrible healer that is employed here?" She asked. Everyone blinked at her before Wilks disappeared up the stands and into the building.
When he'd done that, much to Oliver's surprise as well as the others, she muttered under her breath and a blue-grey otter burst from the tip of her wand before disappearing from view.
"What's up with him?" Hermione asked, gesturing to Malloy who leaned over the railing with his head in his hands.
"Hung over," Pallie answered her.
"Is this a regular occurrence?" she asked, seeming to notice the tone of disapproval in his voice.
"Almost every day," he replied with a nod.
"His name?"
"Ben Malloy," he answered and she nodded her thanks.
"Ben!" Hermione called and he slowly lifted his head to look at her. "Take a seat."
"I'm fine," he grumbled.
"Yes, and I'm stupid," she replied with a narrowed gaze.
"Just sit down," Bishop rolled his eyes. "You're less likely to get hexed if you listen to her."
Malloy glared at him before trudging over to the chair and sitting himself down and Hermione leaned forward, her eyes sweeping over his face as if searching for something.
"Did you take a Hangover Potion?" He nodded. "It didn't work, did it?"
"How'd you know?" he grumbled.
"I'm not stupid, that's how. If you drink as much as your teammate says you do, then I'm not surprised the Hangover Potion is no longer working. You've used them too often that your body has become immune to them, you can take as many as you want, but they'll never work and you have the risk of over-dosing and you'll end up in hospital. If you're lucky they'll be able to save you from dying." The team all stared between her and Malloy. "You do know that alcohol, if drank frequently and in large amounts can cause liver failure, don't you? And that there's no cure for it? If you have liver failure, you'll die. You need to stop drinking and let your body rid itself of all the toxins you've ingested."
"You're not my healer," he grouched.
"No, but I bloody well should be, at least then you'd be well taken care of. If I were your healer I'd be ashamed of myself for allowing you to get in this state."
"I don't have a healer."
"Well you need one. There's a reason I'm so coveted, without sounding too arrogant, I'm good at my job, very good. There's not been an injury that I haven't been able to heal, or a disease that I have not been able to help with. I am often asked to work alongside the healers at St. Mungo's, so I can diagnose patients that they are unable to. I have yet to let down a patient, and I'm not going let you be the one to ruin my perfect record."
"You're not my healer," he said, crossing his arms and scowling at her.
"I am now."
"I'm not going to pay you," he said, sounding rather childish and reminding her of Draco, right down to the blonde hair and blue eyes.
"I don't care," she said honestly, surprising the others. "I don't do what I do for the money, I have more than enough wealth than I care for. I do what I do because I love my job and I love to help better the lives of my patients. I have a fairly large cliental list for someone my age, Quidditch players, politicians, celebrities, rich Pure-blood families. But I also provide private care to the orphanage, I provide care to the homeless, and I don't receive a single knut for my work. Whether you pay me or not, I don't care, but you can be damn well sure that I'm going to spend every day getting it into your thick skull that you need help and I'm going to give it to you whether you like it or not. Stop being so childish about it, I have enough children as patients and I don't need another one."
There was not a word to be heard as Hermione and Malloy stared at each other.
"Now, drink this and swallow these," she instructed, conjuring a glass and filling it with water and handing it to him along with some aspirin.
"What is it?" he asked, eyeing it warily.
"Are you a Pure-blood?"
"Yes."
"Fantastic," she sighed. "Just take them; they'll help with your headache."
As he did as she told him to, she waved her wand over him and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What did you do?"
"I've placed a charm around you, I'll be alerted the moment alcohol crosses your lips, and I'll track you down. You're not my only alcoholic patient."
"I'm not an alcoholic," he denied.
"Maybe not yet, but you're heading down that path, and if you continue, you'll lose everything, especially your Quidditch career. Trust me when I say, I'm only doing what's best for you. That's my job as your healer."
Hermione's attention was drawn when two men appeared by her side. The healer shuffled on his feet nervously under her scrutinising stare, from his black hair down to his dragon hide boots.
"So, you're the team's healer, are you?"
"Yes, and you are?" he replied, gaining some confidence and folding his arms over his chest and looking down at her, as she still sat on a chair.
"Healer Hermione Granger," she replied, seeing recognition lighting in his eyes and his arms dropped down by his sides. "I have just one question for you. Where the hell did you train and who did you train under?"
He frowned. "St. Mungo's, I trained under Healer Travis three years ago."
"That explains it then."
"Explains what?" he asked confused.
"Why you're so rubbish at your job. Healer Travis is almost as loony as Trelawney; I'm surprised she's still got her job, and I don't even know how you past your healer examinations."
"Excuse me?"
"No, I will not," she spoke, her voice darkening slightly and making them all shift on their feet. "Over the last few months, I have been forced to heal my patients with injuries that you should've been able to take care of. A few bruises here and there not properly being treated I can ignore, but you could've very well cost the lives of both Kenny Bishop and Jack Pallie."
"I did what I could for them," he responded.
"No, you did not. I was called by my patients to look over their injuries, and thankfully I was, they could've died due to your actions. I discovered that Kenny had a fractured shard of bone floating in his blood stream, if it reached his heart, lungs or brain, he would've died. I've taken care of it and given him the proper treatment. And as for Jack, you told him he was fine."
"He is," he protested.
"He has three broken ribs and one of them could've very well punctured his lung." He flushed under her narrowed gaze. "You are putting the lives of these players at risk and I have had enough."
"Meaning?" he spoke, a glare now on his face.
"Ah, Head Auror Jolkins," she greeted, seeing the man approaching.
"Healer Granger, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"This man, he is the Puddlemere Untied's team healer, and for the last few months, I've born witness to his negligence regarding their health. If I had not come here today, two of my patients could've very well died due to injuries he deemed 'fine' and due to his improper care and treatment."
Hermione dug around in her medical bag and pulled out a file, before handing it over. "You'll find a record of injuries I have been forced to deal with due to his malpractice. He is putting the lives of others in danger; I can no longer allow it to happen."
"I'll have someone look into the matter further," Jolkins nodded, before formally arresting the healer and taking him back to The Ministry.
"Thank God that idiot is out of the way, you'll all be safer now," Hermione spoke to the team. "And a quick question before I leave, why has there been an increase in injuries caused by bludgers?"
As if on the cue, the entire team all turned their attention to Wilks and he shuffled on his feet.
"He doesn't see them," Thompson shrugged. "We can all see them from the other side of the pitch, but he struggles too."
Hermione bit her lip in thought and then looked to him. "Would you mind if I checked something?" She asked Wilks and he shrugged before walking over to her, taking the seat that Malloy vacated.
Hermione dug through her medical before pulling out what she needed and then she stood from her chair and moved to stand in front of him.
"Lift your head for me," she instructed, before clicking the end of the small white torch to switch it on, and Wilks shut his eyes under the sudden light. "Keep your eyes open for me," she said, before pulling his eye lid up and shining the light in it, and then moving onto the next eye. "Good, now with your left eye I want you to follow my finger... Great, now the right... Alright, from the preliminary tests I've done, I suspect you have short-sightedness."
"And that is?" Wilks ask with a frown.
"It means that you are unable to see objects which are far away, whilst you can see anything that is close up perfectly. This could be why you're not catching sight of the bludgers in time. If I were you, I'd go to St. Mungo's tonight and have them run the proper tests to be sure. If I'm right, they'll be able to have a pair of glasses made specifically for you, and you'll see a massive difference when you play. Alright?" He nodded and she stepped back, placing everything back into her bag. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you all," she said to the team, before turning her attention to her patients. "And if you need me, just let me know and I'll be over as soon as possible. Do you all still have your cream?" They nodded. "Great, be sure to put it on and around the bruises as usual."
She nodded her goodbyes before her eyes finally landed on Oliver.
"Oliver," she said nodding in greeting, causing the team to look between them. "It's good to see you, it's been a while," she spoke with her eyes twinkling and Oliver had to stop himself from laughing.
"Granger," he nodded, trying to keep a straight face.
"You two know each other?" Pallie asked, eyeing them carefully.
"Only in passing, we attended Hogwarts together, he was four years ahead of me," she explained.
"She helped me team tae win the house cup me final year," he shrugged.
"Well, I best be off," she said, before turning and taking her leave.
Oliver waited a few minutes before making an excuse to follow after her.
"A have tae use the bathroom, a'll be right back," he said to Coach Burton, before all but running up the stands and into the building, heading straight to the fireplace, and he caught up to Hermione just as she was about to step in and floo out.
"A dinnae know ye were coming here taday," he spoke.
"Neither did I," she replied amused. "I only come to my patients when I'm contacted."
"Ye never told mae tha' several af me teammates were yer patients."
"You never asked, and even if you did, I couldn't tell you, patient confidentiality," she shrugged.
"Are they goin' tae be alright?"
"Just fine," she assured him. "Just make sure they listen to me and don't allow them to play until I said they could, they could make their injuries worse. Make sure Wilks goes to St. Mungo's and has his eyes looked at, I'm positive you'll all see a difference in him, and don't worry about Malloy, I'll have him sorted out before you know it. This may be why they're not doing so well in training, but you still need to convince them to get new brooms for their safety."
"A'll do me best," he nodded.
She smiled at him. "Well, I better go, I'll see you when you get home. I'm going to head into The Muggle World and pick up dinner from this restaurant I used to go to with my parents when I was a child. Their fish is to die for," she said, before smiling at him and disappearing into the flames.
He shook his head and made his way back down to the pitch. "Right, let's get back tae trainin'," he said, before mounting his broom and taking flight, oblivious to the eyes watching him.
"Does he seem different to you?" Thompson asked the others.
"Yes, I'd say calmer, a lot calmer," Pallie nodded.
"Interesting," Thompson muttered.