CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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 – Thursday 4th December 1998
Hermione had just finished dressing in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and had pulled her hair up on top of her head in a pile of curls, she pulled back the covers on her bed and climbed in, laying down and getting comfortable. The moment her eyes closed and she felt herself drifting off into sleep, her wand which was stuffed under her pillow and within reach, began buzzing madly.
She grumbled before flinging the covers off herself, retrieving her wand and casting the Locator Charm, the exact coordinates engraving themselves into the wand, meaning she would be able to apparate straight to the destination sight without having to picture an image.
She sighed when she saw the name appear, before she summoned a pair of shoes and her robes and slipped them on. She left her bedroom and made her way down the hall towards the living room and she almost collided with Oliver.
She looked up, surprised to see that he was still awake given the hour, and he was dressed in nothing but his boxers and carrying a glass of water. She wouldn't admit to the tinge of pink that found home on her cheeks, nor to seeing Oliver's mouth twitch.
"Where are ye aff tae?" he asked, eyeing her shoes and robes.
"Patient," she sighed.
"This time af night?" he frowned, looking at the clock above the fireplace, and seeing that it read that it was not long after two in the morning.
"Yes, my patients can call me any time of the night. Anyway, what are you doing up? You have training in the morning and you should be sleeping," she said, placing her hands on her hips and looking at him disapprovingly.
"Alright, calm doon, Ma," he snorted. "A woke tae go tae the bathroom an' then a wanted a glass af water. A know ye were in the library 'til late."
"How'd you know?" she frowned.
"Ye jus' admitted it," he smirked at her scowl.
"Fine I was. Now, where's the apparition point?"
"Head ootside on tae the grounds an' follow the pathway 'til ye reach the tree with a boulder beneath it."
"Okay," she nodded. "You'll probably be asleep by the time I get back so I'll see you in the morning."
Malloy's Apartment
Hermione landed on her feet and staring up at a large apartment complex in the middle of Wizarding London. She grumbled before walking into the building and taking the elevator, whilst following her wand's directions.
She stepped out on the twelfth floor and walked until she reached the fifth apartment on the right side of the hall. She knocked on the door loud enough for the tenant to be able to hear, but not loud enough to disturb the other occupants. She heard a crash and a curse from behind the door before it opened, revealing a haggard looking Ben Malloy with a bottle of fire whiskey in hand and it looked to be missing a couple of tumblers worth of whiskey, maybe more.
He blinked at her dumbly as she stood there with a less than impressed look on her face, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she demanded.
He blinked, not knowing what to say to her.
"Did you not listen to anything I said? Honestly, you Quidditch players are so bloody stubborn that it's maddening," she huffed.
She pushed her way past him and into the apartment, her eyes taking in the modern decor, before she snatched the bottle of fire whiskey from him and quickly found her way over to the sink, before pouring the entire contents down the drain and putting the bottle into the nearby bin. He didn't say anything; he was too busy staring at her in surprise.
She left the kitchen and made her way back over to the living room, sitting herself down on the arm chair, leaning back into the cushions and staring at him with her arms crossed over her chest.
"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" he finally asked, and Hermione noted that whilst his words weren't slurred, he did look a little tipsy, struggling to keep his balance or his eyes open for that matter.
"Sit down," she instructed, nodding to the couch opposite her. He blinked at her before reluctantly closing the door and slumping down on to the couch.
"I told you that I had placed a charm around you. I was in bed when it alerted me that you had ingested alcohol, after I told you not to. I'm not exactly happy to be here either, I would rather be sleeping but we can't always get what we want. As for how I found you, that doesn't matter. Why were you drinking?"
"Because I wanted to," he shrugged, lowering his gaze to the floor when he saw her staring at him and looking less than pleased with his answer.
"I told you what would happen if you continued drinking, so why do so?"
He shrugged.
"That's not a good enough answer."
He shrugged again and Hermione sighed, running a hand over her face and through her hair. Her eyes trailed over him, seeing the bags under his eyes, his clothing rumpled, his body slumped and stubble beginning to make an appearance around his mouth and jaw. She had her work cut out for her. He wasn't going to give in to her like the others had, she would have to earn his trust, and there was only one way to do that.
"Bed time," she said, standing up.
"What?" he muttered, lifting his tired eyes up to her face.
"Bed time, you have training in the morning and you need sleep, allow any alcohol you've drank to wear off so you won't feel awful in the morning and I'm not leaving until I know you're sleeping. So, off you go." He blinked at her. "Do I have to put you to bed like a child?"
He glowered at her before standing and storming away, to another room she suspected to be the bedroom. She gave it five minutes before calling out to him.
"Are you in bed?"
"Yes," she heard him growl.
She waited in silence for fifteen minutes before standing and moving to the bedroom, peaking her head inside to see that Malloy was passed out on the bed, his breathing even and deep. She shook her head, before leaving him alone and she pulled her wand, summoning every bottle of alcohol that was in the apartment.
They all collected on the kitchen countertop and Hermione blinked, having not expected there to be so many bottles; there was enough to own a bloody liquor store. And they'd come from every room in the apartment, Ben had it stashed in places she wouldn't even think to look; the bathroom, under the couch, behind the cushions, under the sink, inside the fireplace, behind a photo frame, even in the linen closet.
She sighed and ran her hand through her hair again. She really did have her work cut out for her. She found an empty cupboard in the kitchen and with a little extra spell work, she was able to get all of the bottles of alcohol to fit inside and she warded it shut, ensuring that Ben Malloy would not be able to access it.
She found some parchment and a quill in the kitchen drawer and wrote out a quite note.
Take these, eat breakfast, have a shower and make yourself presentable. You're in a position where you are highly scrutinised by the public, don't give them something to use against you.
She left the note on his bedside table, along with some aspirin and a glass of water, before she left the apartment, locking it behind her with a Locking Charm, and then she apparated back to the manor and collapsed on to her own bed.
Malloy's Apartment – Friday 5th December 1998
Hermione found herself standing outside of Ben Malloy's apartment for the second night in a row, her arms crossed over her chest and with a less than pleased look on her face. She had been woken at two in the morning by her wand alerting her to the fact that he had gotten his hands on more alcohol and was drinking it.
He opened the door, a scowl appearing on his face when he saw her. Hermione walked into the apartment and grabbed the fire whiskey from him, his reflexes slower in his tipsy state, and she poured it down the drain, dropping the empty bottle into the bin, before sitting on the arm chair.
"Sit down, we're going to have a little chat."
His scowl didn't move from his face as he trudged over to the couch and slumped into the cushions.
"We need to get to the bottom of this. You're condition is a lot worse than I had previously thought," she spoke. "In order for me to help you, I need you to help me understand why you drink. What is the purpose behind it?" He shrugged. "How often do you drink? Do you drink throughout the day, during the evening or at night? Do you feel you need alcohol to function?" He shrugged again, not meeting her gaze and she sighed.
There was no point in pushing him. He would tell her when he was ready, she just had to wait and be patient.
"Bed time, off you go," she nodded to the bedroom. He stared at her. "Go, or do I have to put you to bed like a child?"
He glared but stood and made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him and Hermione rolled her eyes. She waited a while before checking in on him, seeing him sleeping on top of the covers and still in his clothes.
She searched the apartment and found a further three bottles of alcohol, before she placed them in the warded cupboard with the others, and she left a note on his bedside table along with a glass of water and some aspirin.
Malloy's Apartment – Saturday 6th December 1998
Hermione sat on the arm chair, staring at Ben Malloy as he refused to look at her, his eyes remained firmly on the ground and looking at the same scuff mark on the floor that he had been staring at for the last hour.
Three nights in a row she'd found herself at his apartment during the early hours of the morning. Having expected him to go against her wishes, she'd purposely stayed up late and she'd arrived at his apartment before two in the morning. A pattern was forming and she was beginning to notice it.
She'd arrived at his apartment and by this time, Ben had only had time to down two tumblers of fire whiskey. Hermione took the rest of the bottle and poured it down the sink, and he sat on the couch in silence. The most sober she'd seen him so far.
"Are we going to talk about this now?" She asked him. He ignored her. "You think that you don't have a problem. If that were the case, why have I been here three nights in a row stopping you from drinking yourself into an early grave? Why do you do this to yourself? I can't help you if you don't let me."
"I'm going to bed," he muttered.
She sighed and listened to his footsteps as he retreated to his bedroom. It was becoming routine to search his apartment and finding bottles of alcohol stashed about the place, before placing them in the warded cupboard with the others.
She left a note on his bedside table again, before leaving to get some sleep of her own.
Wood Manor – Sunday 7th December 1998
"Come on, Granger, put tha' book doon an' grab yer coat, we're aff oot," Oliver said, as he walked into the library, seeing the familiar sight of Hermione curled up on the arm chair and with her nose buried in a book.
"I'm busy," she replied.
"Naw, yer not, come on, let's get some fresh air, the rain's finally let up."
"Maybe later."
He snorted before walking over to her and plucking the book from her hand, holding it high above his head knowing she wouldn't be able to reach it.
"Hey! Give that back!" she all but shouted.
She stood from the chair and stretched up to try and reach it; given their size difference if was useless. She made a sound of annoyance before climbing up onto the arm chair and reaching out for her book. Oliver chuckled before stepping backwards, Hermione moved to follow him and misjudging her balance, she fell forward. She gave a shriek of surprise and Oliver caught her against him, one hand wrapping around her waist and the other still holding the book over their heads. He chuckled and raised an eyebrow as she scowled up at him.
"Yer not gettin' the book back withoot injuring yerself," he said amused. "So, grab ye coat, we're goin' oot, ye can have yer book back later."
"You're a pain in the arse," she muttered, before pushing herself away from him and hopping off the arm chair, storming out of the room, leaving behind Oliver's chuckles.
He was waiting for her by the fireplace, wearing a black winter coat to go with his white t-shirt, blue jeans and trainers. She had opted for her white pea coat, to go along with her black skinny jeans and black leather boots, which would keep her feet warm and dry.
"Ye oot af ye mood yet?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow. "A guess not," he said when he saw her scowl.
"I'll get you back for this," she muttered.
"A only took yer book aff ye."
"Exactly!"
He snorted but stepped into the fireplace and she followed in after him.
Diagon Alley
They stepped out of the floo and Hermione felt her heartbeat pick up when the dingy and familiar decor of The Leaky Cauldron met her view. Oliver made his way to the door but stopped when he realised that Hermione wasn't beside him. He turned to see her stood rooted to the spot and her eyes glued to the door ahead of him.
He walked over to her and stopped before her, putting his hand under her chin and titling her head back so that she was forced to look at him, her frightened stare locking onto his gaze.
"What are we doing here?" she asked quietly.
"Ye cannae stay cooped up in the manor ferever, ye cannae let them affect yer life so much. If ye do tha' then they win, they've beaten ye an' the Hermione Granger a know would never go doon withoot a fight. Are ye givin' in tae them, are ye letting them win?"
She took a deep breath. "No," she said quietly.
"There's the witch a've been waitin' fer," he replied with a smile. "Let' go."
"I can't do this," she whispered. "I'm not strong enough, not yet."
"Ye are, yer the strongest person a know. A'll be with ye every step af the way," he promised.
He removed his hand from her chin, before pulling up her hood to hide her face and he did the same with his own hood, being reminded of what Hermione had said to him about being cautious. If they were spotted together by the wrong people, it would make things worse.
He led Hermione towards the alley and they stood on the door step, looking out at the crowd, busier than ever now that the rain had finally stopped. He felt her stiffen beside him and he slipped his hand around her much smaller one, giving her a squeeze of encouragement.
"We'll take it one step at a time," he told her.
"And if a memory is triggered?" she whispered.
"A'm here with ye, if tha' happens ye won't be alone."
She didn't reply, but after a moment she squeezed his hand, giving him the signal that she was ready. He gently gave a tug on her hand and pulled her away from The Leaky Cauldron and immediately getting swept up into the crowd.
Hermione wasn't sure were Oliver was taking her and she didn't care, her sole attention was on focusing her breathing and the feel of Oliver's larger hand holding hers, keeping her grounded.
They were jostled about in the crowd and Hermione slammed her eyes shut, waiting for the onslaught of memories, but they never came and she opened her eyes and released the breath she was holding.
"Ye okay?" Oliver asked her, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the chatter of the crowd.
She nodded her head but otherwise didn't answer.
"Am a goin' the right way tae Lee's?" he asked, and she raised her eyes to look at him, barely making out his features hidden beneath his hood.
"Lee's?" she questioned.
"Yer goin' tae visit with him fer a while, a'll find meself somethin' tae do whilst a wait fer ye. Ye cannae keep putting him aff, he'll get suspicious an' ye cannae be cutting yerself aff from ye friends. Anno ye were scared tae go by yerself, so a thought a would take ye instead."
"That's really kind of you, thank you."
He tilted his head to the side and gave her that lop-sided grin that brought a blush to her cheeks. Thankfully her hood hid the colouring of her cheeks.
"Am a goin' the right way?" he asked again.
"No, you want to be going in the other direction," she replied.
"Shite, sorry," he muttered, pulling a laugh out of her as he stopped in his tracks, swivelled around and continued in the opposite direction.
They continued to make their way through the crowd and Hermione briefly considered removing her hand from Oliver's, but with that thought came the fear of her memories resurfacing and she wasn't ready to deal with them. Instead, she took comfort in his presence, knowing that if she needed him he was there.
They walked in silence until they reached the street which Lee and Terry lived on, Hermione came to a stop in front of three steps which led to a brown wooden door.
"This is it," she breathed out.
"Alright, a'll have a wander 'round Diagon Alley, it's me Ma's birthday soon so a need tae get her a present. When yer ready jus' send yer patronus an' a'll meet ye oot here."
She nodded. "Thank you," she said, reaching up on her tiptoes and placing a kiss to his cheek, before removing her hand from his and walking up the steps and knocking on the door.
Hermione turned to look behind her, seeing that Oliver was already gone. When the door opened, she lowered her hood and a wide smile pulled at Lee's mouth.
"Hiya, Love, it's about time you pulled yourself away from your research," he greeted, before pulling her into a hug. If she stiffened in his arms, he didn't mention it.
She smiled at him when he pulled back from her, and he moved aside to let her through the door.
"Well, I'm feeling a lot better than I was last week, so I thought I'd come by," she replied, slipping off her coat, hanging it up and making her way down the hall and into the living room.
"It's about time you made an appearance around here," Terry Boot called, looking at her over the top of the newspaper he had in his hands.
"I had the muggle flu last week, and I've been busy seeing to my patients this week, I've barely had any time to myself. I've took on another patient and they're proving to be difficult. They're refusing my help."
They both snorted at her as she sat herself down on the arm chair.
"Speaking of help and healing, I read last night that Puddlemere's latest healer has been fired due to neglect. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?" Terry asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Of course not, what business would I have with the healer of Puddlemere United?"
"We don't believe you, we know you're responsible whether you admit it or not," Lee said amused. "But enough of that, are you going to The Burrow tonight?"
Hermione frowned in confusion, before realisation dawned on her. It was Sunday and the night of the monthly family dinner. No, she absolutely wasn't going to attend. The last time she saw Harry or a member of The Weasley clan was days before she was attacked, and now knowing what she did and feeling how she did, how was she going to sit in a room with Ronald Weasley? The one person that could've prevented her attack from ever happening. She wouldn't it. She couldn't it.
"No, I can't tonight," she replied.
"You haven't attended the monthly dinner for the last two months, Molly's on the very verge of storming to your flat and dragging you to The Burrow by your robes," Lee said.
"If I can't make it then I can't make it!" She snapped. They both looked at each other, then their eyes moved to her, watching her strangely. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just tired, my patients have been making me earn my wage, and the new patient that I've taken on is a lot of work, he's a borderline alcoholic and I've been finding myself at their place the last few nights, trying to get through to them. It's going to be a while before it all sinks in and they finally listen to me. Chances are I'm going to be there tonight as well, I don't think I'm going to have time to go to The Burrow this evening."
They never took their eyes off her. Something was different about her. They didn't know what; they just knew it was something.
"Now, before I get called away by a patient, let's get ourselves to the kitchen and I'll teach you how to bake a pie."
After spending almost two hours with Lee and Terry, Hermione made her excuses and quickly left their flat, slipping on her coat and pulling the hood up and disappearing out the door.
Oliver was already waiting for her a few doors down with his own hood up and a bag held in his hand. Hermione approached him and felt herself relax at his presence.
"Alright?" he questioned with a frown, seeing the expression she wore on her face.
She nodded, but he didn't believe her. "Let's just get home."
Wood Manor
When they stepped out of the floo in the manor, Hermione immediately disappeared down the stairs and to the library. Oliver frowned, she hadn't said a single word since leaving Lee's flat.
He left her to her own devices and by the time it was nearing dinner, he found her in the library, but rather than reading a book, she had one sat open in her lap and she was staring off into space.
"Granger," he called, but she ignored him. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, she shrieked and the book fell off her lap and landed on the ground with a 'thud.'
She glared at him as she pressed a hand against her heart, as if trying to stop it from jumping out of her chest.
"Bloody hell, Oliver, was there any need for that!" she hissed.
He shrugged and moved to sit in the arm chair opposite her. "A did call ye name, but ye weren't listening, not me fault ye were on another planet."
She scowled and sat back into the arm chair, tugging out the cushion from behind her and wrapping her arms around it as she held it against her and she rested her chin on it.
"So, what had ye so lost in thought?" he asked.
She looked up at him through her eye lashes.
"It's the monthly dinner at The Burrow tonight," she replied. "I had completely forgotten until Lee asked me if I were going."
"An' what did ye tell him?"
"No. He pointed out that I haven't been to the last two either, I was too busy tending to my patients."
"An' now?"
"I can't, Ron will be there," she whispered. He sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and giving her his full attention. "How am I supposed to sit at the same table as him, knowing what I do? Knowing that if he hadn't stood me up, none of this would've happened? Knowing that I hate him?"
"Ye canne avoid him ferever," he said. "An' sooner or later, they're gunna get suspicious. Yer've been avoiding them since it happened. Ye go an' set their minds at ease, show them tha' nothin's wrong an' then ye can come back tae the manor an' hide yerself away in the library."
"I can't do it, I just can't. I can't sit there with him in the room, I don't feel comfortable being on my own with them. Lee hugged me and I flinched away from him! The Weasleys are a very affectionate bunch, I'll have a mental breakdown before I even get to the table. I can't be the person I once was. I can't sit there as if nothing's happened to me and pretend that everything's alright. I'm not strong enough."
"Ye? Not strong enough?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Are we talkin' aboot the same Hermione Granger? The Hermione Granger tha' helped tae win a war? The Hermione Granger tha' has wizards cowering in fear af her? The Hermione Granger tha' survived torture under Bellatrix Lestrange, tha' survived a deadly curse, tha' survived a basilisk attack. Yer the strongest person a've ever met, there's nothin' ye cannae do."
She felt her mouth twitch into a smile.
"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll go to dinner, if, you come with me."
"What?" he said dumbly, believing that he'd misheard her.
"I'll go to dinner tonight if you can with me."
"An' hoo are ye gunna explain tha' one?"
She shrugged. "I'll come up with something, I always do. You were friends with the twins in school, right? And Harry?"
"A suppose so," he shrugged.
"Then that's what we'll use as an excuse. We ran into each other when in Diagon Alley today and we got to talking, and the subject shifted towards the others, after which I invited you to The Burrow to dinner, so you could catch up with everyone."
"A don' think abo'dy is gunna believe tha'."
"They will; Lee knows I was in Diagon Alley today because I visited him, and he knows that we saw each other at the bar. He can vouch that we met up and struck up conversation."
"A'm not sure it'll work, Damsel," he said.
She shrugged. "Well, it's entirely your decision, I don't want to go but I will if you do. I'd much rather stay here to be honest."
"Ye need tae get oot af the manor more."
"I'm happy where I am, thanks."
A thoughtful frowned appeared on his face and he leaned back into his chair, clasping his hands together and resting them on his stomach.
He was starving, and as much as he loved to cook, if he were being honest with himself, he couldn't be arsed cooking dinner. If he were to go with her, it'd get her out of the manor, it get her to start interacting with others on a more personal level, and, there would be an added bonus of food. He supposed he would be having dinner with a family he knew of and went to school with, so it wasn't as if they were complete strangers.
"What time are ye expected?" he asked.
"Usually around six, that's when everyone starts to arrive and dinner is severed not long after," she answered.
"Grab ye coat, a'll get Merlin ready fer leaving," he said, standing up from the chair and making his way to the door.
"We're going?"
"We're goin'," he confirmed.
"I don't want to."
"Ye said ye would go if a did, an' now a am."
"I didn't think you'd actually agree to it," she spoke with a frown on her face.
"Well a did, so get a move on, we're gunna be late. Grab ye stuff and get yer arse intae gear, Damsel."
The last thing he heard as he stepped out of the library was a huff and a cushion being thrown against the wall.