CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
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.
AN
Here's the moment we've all been waiting for!
Q&A
Starlite22 – The cost for rent is quite accurate. Renting in London isn't cheap and prices vary and are dependent on location, the property and the landlord. Prices can range from £350 and well past £1000 a month. I have a relative who lives in London and she and her partner pay almost £1200 a month to rent their property. My own parents pay £400 a month for a three bedroom house and we live in North East England, about 250 miles from London. It's shocking to see the pricing differences.
Anyway, 200 galleons converts to just over £600, which is well within the average of what she's paying. Hermione would have a decent wage from her being a private healer, as well as taking medical cases on from St. Mungo's, plus she'd get money from the bar she owns with Lee and she received reward money when she got her Order of Merlin: First Class.
As for the wards, the Fidelius is a very difficult piece of magic to cast and the property has to be owned and not rented. She's had a curse breaker put the wards on her previous flats and they were broken. What does that imply?
Page count: 7
Malfoy Manor – Thursday 24th December 1998
"Oh," Hermione muttered softly, her eyes falling down to Oliver's face and seeing that he was just as surprised as she was. "What are the chances?" She laughed lightly.
Shaking her head, she leaned closer to him and reached up to peck him on the cheek, her lips briefly touching his skin before she pulled away and looked up to the mistletoe expectantly. It was still there, bobbing in the air above their heads. She frowned.
"A guess it wisnae enough," Oliver spoke, his eyes locking on her face and tracing her soft features.
"I guess not," she nodded. "Oh, well," she said, before she leaned closer and pecked him lightly on his lips and pulling back from him so fast, she'd barely felt it.
They both looked up to the mistletoe. It hadn't moved.
"Seriously," Hermione sighed.
"There's only one way we're gettin' oot af this," Oliver told her.
She huffed, blowing a fallen curl out of her face and he chuckled at her before he took her by surprise, his hand coming up to brush the curl aside before both of his hands moved to hold her face gently and he tilted her face up towards his. His eyes roamed her face before getting caught in her gaze.
Hermione couldn't help but be taken in by his beautiful eyes, seeing the way they sparkled in the lights surrounding them. Was he really going to kiss her? Like kiss her, kiss her. It seemed a simple peck on the lips wasn't going to do the job, so would they have to snog to be set free?
Merlin, she wasn't sure how she'd be able to handle it! She'd be lying if she said she didn't think he was handsome because anyone with eyes could see that he was, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had curious thoughts about what it would be like to kiss him, but she'd never thought they'd be put in a situation where they'd actually have to snog.
No, she was a big witch and she could handle it. She cared for Oliver, as a friend, like she cared for Harry. It would probably be a bit awkward, but they could do it. They were friends.
His face slowly lowered and Hermione titled her head a little more and her eyes fluttered closed when he placed a soft kiss against her mouth, his lips soft and warm and moulding to hers perfectly. It was a simple press of lips that lasted a little longer than hers had, and he pulled back to give a quick glance to the mistletoe above their heads, seeing it still there.
He stared at her, seeing her eyes being closed, her features relaxed and her mouth twitching at the corners. Merlin, she was beautiful. He'd been a little worried at first, worried that in order for them to escape they'd have to kiss. After what she'd been through, he didn't want a kiss shared between them to harm her, to set her back in the progress she'd made, but she'd taken the first step letting him know that it was okay. He hoped things wouldn't be awkward between them because when him kissing her didn't work, he knew what he had to do. He'd have to snog her.
Of course he thought she was beautiful, and of course he'd wondered what a kiss shared between them would be like, but he never thought they'd get to that point in their relationship. They were friends, good friends and he didn't want anything to jeopardise that, even if the thought of her being with another wizard unsettled him. And if they had gotten to that point, he hadn't thought it would be because of mistletoe keeping them prisoner. He hoped it wouldn't change anything between them. He steeled himself, he was a big wizard and he could handle a kiss with a beautiful woman, it wouldn't be his first after all. He could get through this...He hoped.
When he saw the signs of her eyes about to open, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, this time with the intent to snog her silly. If he had to do it, then he was going to do it right and he'd make sure it would be something she'd never be able to forget.
Her soft, plump lips moulded against his as they tentatively moved their lips against one another's, and when Oliver was sure Hermione was fine and not on the verge of having a panic attack, he moved to deepen the kiss. His hands slipped from her face and down to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers getting caught in the soft curls at the back of her neck and he tilted her head up a little more.
Slowly, his tongue darted out to trace her bottom lip and Hermione parted her lips for him, allowing him entrance and surprising him as her tongue moved to greet his when he entered her mouth. He felt her hands come up to grip at the lapels of his jacket and she tugged gently, pulling herself closer to him as she titled her head to the side slightly, allowing him chance to explore her mouth a little more.
Being too engrossed in each other, neither of them noticed the 'pop' of the mistletoe disappearing, alerting them to the fact they were free to leave. Even the sound of approaching footsteps and glass shattering didn't pull them away from each other.
Only when Hermione's hand wound up to bury in his hair and she tugged lightly on the soft strands pulling a surprised groan from him, did Hermione startle. Pulling back from him and allowing her eyes to open, she knew she was blushing madly when his eyes locked onto hers. If she wasn't already breathless and her heart beating fast, she knew she would be the moment he smiled at her, his thumbs gently brushing over her jaw lines and sending shivers down her spine.
Merlin! Did he have to be so handsome!
Needing to tear her eyes away from him lest she do or say something to embarrass herself, her eyes flickered upwards, seeing that the mistletoe was no longer there.
"It seems we're free," Oliver muttered softly, his eyes also moving to look above them.
She cleared her throat and nodded. "Well, we both have to be up early in the morning so we better get home," she spoke, doing her best not to sound too breathless.
He nodded in agreement and his hands dropped from her face and he stepped back from her as she released her grip on his jacket and hair, awkwardly bringing her hands down by her side.
"Let's go then," he spoke, holding his hand out for her.
She looked up at him shyly through her eyelashes and his mouth twitched at the sight, especially since her blush had yet to fade from her cheeks. She placed her hand in his and he stepped forward, resting his other hand against the small of her back as he guided her off the balcony, through the crowds of people in the ballroom and back to the fireplace where they floo'd back to Wood Manor.
~000~000~000~
"Lucius, what did you do?"
The blonde wizard felt his mouth twitching before he rearranged his features to show confusion as he turned to face his beautiful wife, the first thing he saw being a scowl on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. She was not pleased with him. He raised a questioning eyebrow and she huffed at him.
"You meddled,"
His mouth twitched. "No, My Dear, you meddled, I only set things back to order."
"They're perfect for each other," she replied, her scowl morphing into a sad frown and her lip jutting out slightly.
He chuckled at her and reached out to take her hand in his, gently running his thumb over her knuckles. He knew the moment he saw her whispering with a house-elf before hiding out on the adjacent balcony what she had planned.
Narcissa had always wanted a daughter but they'd been unable to have any more children after Draco had been born. In the time that Hermione had been caring for his family, Narcissa had grown close to the young witch and she loved her as a daughter, and she wanted to make it official through a marriage to Draco.
Unlike Lucius, Narcissa couldn't see that a relationship between his son and the bright witch wouldn't work. Whilst they were both intelligent and strong and stubborn, their behaviour towards one another was more like that of siblings, not lovers. Hermione could never see Draco as a romantic partner, and Draco could never see Hermione as a wife and the mother of his future children. They weren't compatible, and Narcissa refused to see that. So when he saw her whispering away to a house-elf, he knew he had to put a stop to whatever she'd been planning.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to prevent the house-elf from retrieving the mistletoe and spelling it in place and he hadn't been able to prevent the house-elf from summoning Draco to the balcony, but he had been able to stop him from reaching his destination.
The moment Draco made an appearance after hiding from Pansy Parkinson for most of the night; Lucius had soon pulled his son into conversation long enough for Hermione's date to find her on the balcony before Draco could.
"No, Cissy, as much as I care for the little witch, she and Draco are not suited to one another. A marriage between them would not work; their relationship is that of friends, siblings, there are no feelings shared between them other than those of a platonic nature, and you should not interfere in either of their lives. We made a promise that we would allow Draco to choose his own future and we would support him, and we have no right to interfere with Hermione's, as much as you wish it, she is not your daughter."
Narcissa's face filled with sadness before she nodded, gathered herself and stood up taller, her calm mask slipping back into place.
"I know, no more meddling," she promised. He smiled at her and lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it.
"And by the looks of things, she does not need your help," he said, knowing it to be true after catching a glimpse of what had occurred on the balcony between Hermione and her date.
"It would seem so," Narcissa agreed. "They barely left the other's side since their arrival."
Lucius nodded. "I have been watching them, he seems to be protective of her. They interact in such a way that if they were strangers, I would assume they were married."
"Do you know who he is, his voice seemed familiar somehow?" She asked him.
"I don't know who he is, but I am in agreement; his voice did seem familiar. If their relationship develops into something serious, I've no doubt it'll be front page news."
Narcissa sighed. "Well, if she and Draco can't be together, I must admit they make a lovely couple. From what I've witnessed this evening he will be good for her; I can't remember seeing her smile so much when he's in her presence."
~000~000~000
Wood Manor
Stepping out of the flames and dusting themselves down, Hermione removed her hand from his and stepped away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Well, good night, Oliver. I hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas and I'll see you after the holidays."
Oliver nodded. "Night, Damsel," he said, before leaning closer to press a kiss to her cheek. The redness of her skin only darkened. "Merry Christmas," he said softly.
Hermione cleared her throat, gave him a shy smile and all but turned and ran to her room, closing the door behind her and leaning back against the door, a sigh leaving her and her head titling back.
"I'm screwed," she said to herself.
She was wrong, now she knew she wouldn't be able to handle the aftermath of their kiss. She was hoping that her curiosity had been satisfied and she'd be able to move on and forget it ever happened, but that wasn't the case, because she realised something. She liked Oliver.
He was as good a kisser as he was at playing Quidditch and that came with the realisation that he'd had a lot of practice; he'd been with other women and she found herself feeling jealous. She pulled a face at herself, since when did she get jealous? Especially over a man? She had no right to feel such a thing; they weren't together, they were just friends, but she didn't want to be just friends.
He was kind and generous and smart, he was considerate and wonderful, and he cheated at poker to purposely rile her up. He was protective of her, she hadn't been blind to the looks he'd been sending other men that night, she hadn't been blind to the staring matches he'd had with other men, nor to the fact he barely left her side. He wanted to keep her safe, not for any reason other than he actually cared for her health and well-being. He didn't get anything out of all the trouble he went to for her, everything he did was solely for her and without an ulterior motive. He was the first person to do such a thing.
And his kiss! Merlin, his kiss had surprised her. He was gentle and playful and explorative. He hadn't kissed her, no; he'd snogged her into a tizzy. He'd snogged her in a way no one ever had before. He'd left her breathless and weak-kneed and feeling all warm and fuzzy. She shamefully admitted that she hadn't wanted it to end; she wished she hadn't startled and that he hadn't allowed her to pull away from him.
She realised that not only did she like Oliver, but she wanted more from him. She realised that she genuinely cared for him and in a way she hadn't any other wizard before. Not Dean, not Ron, even Viktor; and she'd adored him. She realised, that despite how long she'd known him, that it was quite possible she was falling for him.
"I'm so screwed," she groaned.
She pushed herself away from the door, pulled off her mask and flopped onto her bed, groaning when Merlin pounced on top of her.
"It's fine, I can deal with this. I can keep it a secret, he doesn't have to know," she told herself, her fingers coming up to press against her lips gently, still feeling the ghost of his touch.
~000~000~000~
Oliver watched Hermione leave the room and he listened to her footsteps echoing throughout the manor, until he heard her bedroom door closing and he let out a sigh.
"A'm screwed," he muttered to himself, reaching up to run his hand through his hair.
He now knew he'd been wrong; their kiss had affected him in ways he never expected it to. Her lips had been soft and plump as they moulded against his own. Her tongue had been teasing and playful when she'd opened up for him. Her body had been warm and soft as she was pressed against him with his hands angling her head and his fingers buried in her wild curls. When they'd separated she'd looked beautiful with her slightly red and swollen lips, her cheeks filled with a blush and her hair a little messier than before after having the soft strands curling around his fingers.
She'd surprised him. He'd been expecting her to be timid and hesitant but that hadn't been the case. She'd been confident and not afraid of matching his own intentions and she'd certainly snogged him, too.
Shaking his head he made his way over to the bar and poured himself some fire whiskey, staring down at the amber coloured liquid as he swilled it in the tumbler.
He couldn't remember a time when a kiss had made him feel so... He wasn't even sure what he was feeling.
Once he'd hit his third year at Hogwarts, he'd never been shy of girls trying to get his attention. They'd always been a witch that was happy to throw themselves at him, and whilst he has bedded his fair share of witches, he's never had an actual girlfriend. Those that didn't want him for his fame and wealth couldn't handle his intense training schedule or his borderline obsession with Quidditch, and he'd never felt comfortable enough to let down his barriers. He'd always been a private person, even with his parents and yet Hermione was the first person he felt at ease around.
He felt he didn't have to worry about keeping up the appearance of Oliver Wood, Quidditch Star. He could be himself, the wizard that loved to cook and just fly for the sake of having fun and being free from expectations. He didn't have to pretend he was something he wasn't, and his training schedule and love for Quidditch didn't bother her, in fact, she'd taken an interest in something that was highly important to him, not complaining when he spent hours talking about the sport despite her not understanding a single word he said.
He liked who he was around her. He felt different when he was around her. He didn't feel as numb or lonely. He liked that she allowed him to see her imperfections, he liked that she allowed him to comfort her, he liked that she trusted him with her secrets. She had no expectations of him, well, except to make her chicken pie for dinner, he thought with a snort.
Her kiss had ignited feelings inside of him that he'd never experienced with a witch before. He wasn't even sure what to name them.
He was thinking that maybe his mother was right. He did want more from Hermione. He didn't just want to be her friend; he wanted to be someone she could count on. He wanted to take care of her, to protect her and keep her safe. He wanted to come home to her after a hard day at training and see her waiting for him whilst she read a book and snuggled with Merlin. He wanted to continue playing muggle board games with her; he wanted to spend time with her. He wanted to teach her how to fly, and to swim and cook and he wanted her to show him how to bake and make pancakes. He wanted her to talk about the things she'd discovered in the medical field and he wanted to listen to her trying to solve unknown medical cases. He wanted to visit the children at the orphanage with her and he wanted to take walks down Diagon Alley with her small hand held by his. He wanted to always be surrounded by her scent of lemon and jasmine; it was comforting and warm and familiar.
He realised that maybe he was falling in love with her.
"Shit," Oliver grumbled, downing his tumbler of fire whiskey. "Alright, a can handle this, she doesn't have tae know," he said to himself, putting the empty tumbler on the bar and making his way to his own room, his eyes straying and locking on Hermione's bedroom door until he entered his own room.