CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
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:
I have to say, you guys are the best. The response and review count for the last chapter was amazing. It was the most reviewed chapter of this story so far and that's just blown me away. And not only that, but this fic's almost got 1000 followers! I'm so happy.
This was originally two chapters but rather than giving you two consecutive cliff hangers as I first planned on doing, I decided to combine them and just give you one. See? I am nice when I want to be.
Enjoy your massive 10,000+ words chapter!
Q&A
As for Hermione's stalker, yes, it did seem too easy, but have I done that on purpose? Have I done that to keep you in suspense and tease you? Or have I done it because everything is not as it seems and it truly isn't over yet? There's only one way to find out.
Page count: 19
Puddlemere United Stadium – Wednesday 13th January 1999
Oliver watched Hermione silently as she stood by the door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes scanning the occupants of the room. Really, he should've been listening to Coach Burton give his 'speech' which actually contained more shouting and pacing than it did encouragement and excitement, but Oliver couldn't blame the man, after all, today they were playing the first match to happen in nearly two years. It may have just been a practice match, but the outcome of it would affect the betting standards and people's expectations of them when the League Cup officially began in July, meaning they only had six and a half months to get themselves ready.
In the two weeks that they'd learned of Hermione's attackers and stalker having been caught and her now being safe, he'd been sure to keep an eye on her, but since that very day and each day that went by since, he'd noticed a change in her.
She no longer had to live her life in fear and that realisation showed within her. They hadn't left the manor for the next few days, and the first time they did was when they were both due back at the stadium, Oliver to return to his training schedule and Hermione to continue with her healer's duties. Despite her only being expected to work three full days or to come to the stadium when needed, she seemed to spend most of her time there but he knew it wasn't out of fear of being on her own, it was because she liked being there and she got on with the team fairly well, them all respecting her and liking to wind her up until she got her own back and threatened to put them on a no fly ban despite there being nothing wrong with them.
Sometimes he knew she left the stadium to see to her other patients, or to go home and collect some books to keep her busy if she was bored and had no paperwork to do, but she always came back until the end of the day.
And he knew she'd more than made herself comfortable at the stadium. He'd broken his fingers when trying to stop the quaffle from passing through the hoops and had to make a visit to Hermione as a result. The moment he'd stepped into the treatment bays he'd noticed the difference with the decor, it no longer being a dreary, dirty white colour but a nice and calming blue. He noticed the organisation and the cleanliness that hadn't been present before, and when he'd stepped into her office to fill out some paperwork, it had screamed 'this is Hermione.'
Her office had been decorated in chocolate brown and white, with a large desk and a comfortable looking chair sat in front of the large floor to ceiling windows. Bookcases covered the back wall and were filled with medical textbooks, both muggle and magical, and there'd been a white rug in front of it with a comfortable lounge chair. Photos had lined the walls and there had been a large dog bed in the corner of the room where he knew Merlin slept most of the day. It hadn't taken much to convince Coach Burton to allow her to bring Merlin to work with her, especially since there was no policy against animals being on the premises and both he and the team had no objections. They'd come to think of the large dog as their mascot and if he wasn't with Hermione in her office, he was in the Coach's box.
Once they'd returned to work, Hermione had started venturing out into public more often. He'd accompanied her to Diagon Alley the first couple of times and the third time he had to collect her as she'd struggled with being by herself, but from then onwards she'd been fine and he was both impressed and proud with the progress she'd made in the last two weeks.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen or heard her crying, he no longer found her in the library or grand piano room in the middle of the night; he no longer caught her gazing off into space or just sitting in silence. She smiled and laughed more, the spark within her seemed to have returned and she was as fiery and fierce as he remembered her being in Hogwarts. He was sure that what she did remember still haunted her during her dreams, but she never let on and she didn't seem to be letting it get to her. She was moving on and putting it behind her and he was impressed that she was able to do it so soon.
"Wood, anything to add?"
Oliver shook his head and his eyes darted to Coach Burton, seeing him looking at him expectantly.
"Not really," he said, but Coach Burton narrowed his eyes at him and Oliver cleared his throat, the team sharing amused looks and Hermione sniggering. "Jus' be careful an' keep an eye oot fer bludgers; the Tornados are best known fer their beaters, an' their chasers are fast, so yer gunna have tae be on yer game tae keep up with them."
Coach Burton nodded and took over. "Right, we're due on the pitch in twenty-five minutes, Hermione's going to give you all the once over and once you're cleared, head to the waiting room," he instructed. "And for the love of Merlin..." The large dog that was in the room and sat by Hermione's side gave a bark at his name, pulling a laugh from everyone and helping to relieve some of the tension in the room. "Don't embarrass me."
"Charming," Hermione said amused, Coach Burton scowling at her as he walked past and stepped out the room to head to the Coach's box, and the others sniggered at her. "Right, boys, we don't have long so no dilly-dallying. It may have finally stopped snowing but we are forecast heavy rain, so I've already spelled your goggles to repel the water. If you need them they're in the Coach's box. Right, Tony, we'll start with you," she said.
Wilks stood from the bench, picked up his broom and approached Hermione, stopping in front of her.
"You have your glasses?"
"Yep," the tall redhead replied, looking down at her as she had to tilt her head back to look at him, him being one of the tallest members on the team and her being tiny compared to him, well, all of them really.
Hermione took them from him when he held them out to her, pulled her wand and muttered beneath her breath, a blue glow settling over the glasses before disappearing.
"I've placed a temporary Sticking Charm on them so they won't fall off during the game. Do you have your spare pair in case they get damaged or broken?" She asked, handing his glasses back and he nodded, placing his spare pair in her hand for her to keep a hold of in case he needed them. "Any headaches? Nausea? Dizziness? Did you eat breakfast?" She asked.
"No, no, no, and yes, a full English," he answered.
"Okay, you're cleared to play, off you go," she spoke.
Next she saw to Kings, Pallie, Bishop and Thompson, asking them the same questions before clearing them to fly and then she moved onto Malloy.
The shaggy haired blonde stood from the bench and approached Hermione, his height matching Oliver's and Hermione had to tilt her head back once more.
"You feeling up to it?" Hermione asked him softly.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly before nodding his head. Unfortunately, Malloy had relapsed on New Year's Eve, the temptation being too much for him, especially when everyone he knew was out drinking and having a good time to celebrate the new year. He'd been devastated the next day when he'd come to and found Hermione having dozed off in the arm chair in his living room. It had taken Hermione a long while to calm him and assure him that she wasn't disappointed in him, as up until that point he'd been sober for nine days and the first week was usually the hardest.
Since then he hadn't had a drink in fourteen days, and though Hermione knew he struggled and he found it hard to resist the temptation, he'd found ways to help him cope, one of them being going to therapy which Hermione had suggested. She'd put him in contact with a squib-muggle therapist she'd known and despite him being apprehensive about it, he'd soon thanked her for doing so, especially since he didn't have to hide himself away with it being a Squib he was talking to.
"I'm fine," he said.
"Okay, how's your shoulder?" She asked as two days prior he'd been smacked by a bludger. While it hadn't caused much damage and it had been an easy fix, the pain still lingered and if he was still hurting, she didn't want him playing.
"Pain's gone,"
"You're not lying to me, are you?"
"No," he promised.
Hermione raised an eyebrow before lifting her hand, curling it into a fist and punching him in the shoulder. He didn't wince or flinch or react except for an amused twitch to his mouth.
"Alright, off you go," she said, tilting her head towards the door.
Malloy gave her a mock salute before darting out the room when she raised her hand to hit him again, his laughter being heard as he ran down the corridor and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Oliver stood from the bench and approached her, feeling no need to hide his smile or be conscious about the fact he stood closer to her than the others had, because they were the only two left in the changing rooms.
"Shirt up," Hermione instructed and he looked at her amused, but used his free hand which wasn't currently holding his broom, to lift the edge of his Quidditch jumper, revealing to her his abdomen.
Hermione's brow furrowed as she bent slightly to get a better look at the bruise that was just below his ribs where he'd been hit with a bludger the week before. Her hand came up and gently probed around the tender, discoloured skin.
"A feel fine, it doesn't hurt," he said before she could even ask.
She pursed her lips before prodding the wound and he winced as she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Af course tha' hurt, ye weren't exactly gentle, were ye?" He said. "A can move aboot an' a fergot it was even there," he said.
She eyed him carefully before slowly nodding and rising back to full height. "How are your hands feeling? Any tension or cramp?"
"Some," he admitted, putting his hand in hers when she held it out expectantly and he sighed when he felt her fingers needing at the muscles through the leather of his gloves.
"Are you alright? You were a little jumpy this morning," she said.
"Jus' nervous," he confessed. "A mean, it's the first game tae be played in nearly twa years, the bosses are expectin' us tae win."
"That's a lot of pressure," she commented softly, accepting his other hand and setting to work easing the tension from the muscles. "But whether or not you win or lose, you just have to remember that you've only had a few short months to get the team match ready and you've all had your own issues and problems that have prevented you from working at your best, but you've overcome them and have since been working exceptionally hard."
"Yer weren't a problem," Oliver spoke honestly.
"I was a little bit of a problem," she shrugged her shoulders. "But between Tony's eyesight, Ben's drinking, my appearance in your life and the neglect of Healer Dodd, you've had a lot working against you and for you to have gotten the team to where they are now, no matter the outcome of the match, you should be exceptionally proud of yourself because I am. I'm very proud of you, and you're a wonderful Captain to your team," she said.
Oliver's stomach seemed to flip-flop and not only at her words, but at the soft smile she gave him as she looked up at him and away from his hand. She released his hand and stepped back from him.
"Headaches? Nausea? Dizziness?" She asked. He shook his head. "Well, I know you had breakfast but if I'm being honest, I'm not happy that you ate so little of it. If you feel light headed or a little fuzzy, I want you off that broom on back on the ground, got it?"
"Got it," he nodded.
"Good, I won't wish you luck because I know you don't need it and we have the home court advantage. So, you better run, you're due on the pitch in a couple of minutes."
His eyes widened and he looked up to the clock on the wall above her, realising that she was right.
"Shite," he cursed and she snorted at him when all but ran from the room.
She turned and stood in the door way, watching as he jogged down the corridor. "Please be careful," she said quietly. "My heart can't take it," she sighed as he disappeared around the corner and was gone from her view.
~000~000~000~
Hermione hated Quidditch.
Well, she didn't so much mind the sport, she just hated when she had to watch and she always had, especially when it was her friends she was cheering for in school. But now, it was so much worse.
Not only was she cheering for the team that employed her, the players that she looked after and had come to think of as friends, but she was forced to watch Oliver, the wizard she admitted she'd fallen in love with. And not only that but she was in the Coach's box and it had the best seats in the entire stadium, making her experience all the more frightening for her as she could more or less see everything that was happening.
She'd hoped that in the weeks that would pass she'd find a way to get over Oliver, she'd find something that would be a major turn off for her, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case. Oliver was just too kind, too generous, too damn caring and patient that nothing about him seemed to put her off. He didn't chew with his mouth open, he didn't interrupt her when she was reading, he wasn't selfish or arrogant. There was more to him than his love for Quidditch and he'd let down his defences to let her see that, to let her see the real him.
Knowing that she wouldn't be able to get over him if they were under the same roof, she knew she'd have to move out, but Oliver had stopped that from happening. The way he looked at her when he'd all but demanded that she stay with him, it had broken down every wall she'd deliberately put up to prevent exactly that from happening, and she'd crumbled.
In the weeks that followed he gave her space but was never too far away if she needed him. He'd gone to Diagon Alley with her knowing that she was afraid to go out alone, and without thought he'd dropped what he was doing when she'd contacted him on the verge of another panic attack. He kept her busy, he sat with her in the library when she read, he made sure she ate enough, he sat with her for hours talking about their families and lives before and during Hogwarts, and she didn't have to hide from him, she didn't have to keep secrets because she trusted him to keep anything she revealed to himself. There wasn't a wizard she trusted more in the world than Oliver, and as much as she hated to admit it, that even included Harry.
She didn't know how she would get over him, or even if she could, but she hoped it was well before Oliver ever entered a relationship with another witch because the thought alone gripped at her heart and made her feel sick.
Hearing a reaction from the crowd, her attention snapped back up to players and after squinting her eyes to better see through the rain, it was to see that Thompson had just narrowly avoided a bludger, but in doing so had lost sight of the snitch he'd been chasing. Looking up to the score board, she saw that during her musings the Tornados had managed to score ten points. In the two and a half hours that the match had been going, both teams had only managed to earn a total of fifty points each and Hermione didn't care who won, she just wished it was all over soon because she was sure her heart couldn't take much more of the fear and worry.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Hermione said, Coach Burton not giving her a second glance as she turned away and he continued with shouting at the players.
She'd only been gone ten minutes, spending most of her time splashing water over her face and trying to calm herself down, but when she made her way down the stands and approached the railing where Coach Burton stood, she felt the breath being knocked out of her and she swayed on her feet when the crowd chorused gasps of shock and a bludger slammed straight into Oliver.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Oliver toppled off his broom, heading towards the ground at a speed that would kill him on impact. The referee was quick enough to catch Oliver and slow down his descent until he was lowered onto a stretcher.
Hermione feeling a hand gripping at her arm to steady her, lifted her head to see Coach Burton watching her carefully, his eyes darting between the pitch and her.
"I'm fine," she lied, pulling herself free from his grasp and she turned and darted for the hidden set of stairs that led down to the pitch.
She darted across the field and burst through the doors of the treatment bay, her breathing being laboured and her hair and clothing soaked from the heavy rain. She busied herself with grabbing a variety of potions off the shelves and placed them on the rolling medical tray beside the bed. As soon as she'd done that, the doors burst open and two officials of the game brought Oliver in on the stretcher before he was levitated onto the bed and they left when Hermione dismissed them.
Her breath caught when she looked down at him, seeing the alarming amount of blood that stemmed from his nose and covered the front of his Quidditch uniform and he was unconscious, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Taking a breath, she composed herself knowing she had to detach herself emotionally lest she make things worse.
She rolled up the sleeves of her healer's robes -these ones being navy blue with the Puddlemere logo on the breast side pocket and 'OPUTH GRANGER' written across the back- and she pulled her wand, siphoning away the blood to get a better look at the wound and clearing his airway to prevent him from suffocating.
After several diagnostic spells, it revealed that his injuries weren't as bad as the amount of blood led her to believe. His only injury was that of a broken nose, except the bludger had hit him so hard, it hadn't broken his nose but rather shattered the bones.
Knowing it was an easy enough fix, she first removed all of the bone fragments to prevent any from potentially getting to his heart or brain and then she reached for the Skele-Gro Potion, pouring the foul concoction into Oliver's mouth and massaging at his throat to help it better go down.
For caution's sake, she cast a few more diagnostic charms and they all came back clear, so she raised her wand, dried Oliver's hair and clothing and sat down in a chair beside the bed, waiting for him to wake. But as soon as she sat down, she let go of her composure and it all came crashing down on her, tears filling her eyes and her face burying in her hands.
~000~000~000~
Oliver's eyes slowly opened and he grunted against the bright lights that met him. Taking a moment, he took in the sounds of the rain pelting against metal, of the crowd cheering and booing and of... crying. Upon the realisation, he forced his eyes to open and noting that he was lying flat on his back on an uncomfortable surface, he tried to push himself up only to groan when his head started pounding and a sudden dizzy spell hit him.
Hearing a gasp, the sound of glass hitting metal and of a chair scraping across the ground, he titled his head to the side, ignoring the pain as his eyes locked on Hermione, her hair looking damp, her clothing wet and her eyes red and puffy as they swam with tears. That sight alone filled him with enough worry that he forgot about the pain in his head and he pushed himself up, supporting himself on his hands.
"No, Oliver, lay back down," Hermione instructed, her voice sounding a little hoarse as she stood from the chair and reached out to try to push him back down.
Oliver didn't listen and sat up straight, swinging his legs over the bed until his feet touched the floor and they were facing each other.
"What happened?" He asked.
She took a breath and wiped at her face, trying to be subtle but failing. "From what I can gather, you'd just stopped a quaffle from getting through the hoops and because of that you were distracted and didn't have time to move out of the way of the bludger. You were knocked off your broom and the damage done wasn't as severe as I first thought. It was fixed easily enough with a Skele-Gro. You've been out just over an hour, plenty enough time for the potion to finish re-growing the bones."
"Why are ye crying?" He asked softly.
"I'm not," she denied, giving him a weak smile.
The look he gave her had that smile dropping and her eyes filled with tears once more. He reached out for her wrist and gave her a gentle tug, pulling her closer to him and she went willingly, her tears spilling down her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she dared to without hurting him.
"It frightened me, I was so worried about you," she sniffled.
Oliver's heart broke at seeing her so upset about what she'd witnessed and he could understand, he'd felt the same way when she'd had panic attacks and he wasn't sure how to help her, when he just wanted to protect her and end her pain and suffering.
"Damsel, am sorry fer worrying ye, an' am fine now," he said softly, holding her a little tighter when she made to pull back from him and she sighed, seeming glad that he'd done so.
They stayed that way for several minutes, neither of them talking but just holding each other.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, slowly pulling back from him to show that the tears were gone from her eyes but they were still a little red, and she peered down at his face.
"Not tae bad, a suppose," he replied.
"Headache?"
"Aye, it's killing mae," he said, bringing his hands up to his temples before a potion vial appeared in front of him and he took it, downing it gratefully when the ache began to ease.
"What a way to spend your birthday," Hermione said.
Oliver chuckled at her and handed the empty vial back to her. "A don' mind havin' a match on me birthday."
"And spending it in the treatment bay?" She asked.
"It's not so bad, am with ye aren't a?" He responded, a smile pulling at his face when her cheeks tinged pink and her eyes darted down to the ground.
"Well, your plans for tonight shouldn't be affected by your injury, though your nose may feel tender for an hour or so," she said, knowing the team were taking Oliver out for a night of Merlin knows what wizards got up to when drinking.
"Yer coming, right? Tae show the team hoo it's done?"
She bit her lip and shook her head. "Umm, no, I can't make it tonight, I'm sorry. But your present is waiting for you at the manor."
He frowned slightly, feeling disappointed. "Why not?" He asked, unsure how he should feel when she fiddled with her fingers, her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip and her cheeks flushed pink, all indicators of her being nervous or embarrassed.
"I have a date,"
"What?" Oliver blurted out, a little too roughly as she jumped in surprise and her eyes darted to him. He composed himself and said softer this time, "With who?"
"I...er...I don't actually know, it's a blind date."
"Is tha' really wise?" He asked as carefully as he could, not wanting to upset her.
"Probably not," she admitted. "It's Ginny's fault. I went out to lunch with her the other day and I don't actually know how, but it resulted in me agreeing to a blind date. I don't know who he is but Ginny does. Apparently he used to live near The Burrow and he went to Hogwarts, he was in the twins' year, but that's all I know. I don't particularly want to go, but it's very hard to say no to Ginny, and I've already agreed to and don't want to disappoint anyone. At the very least, it should help me move on," she spoke, and in more ways than one she hoped.
Oliver frowned but knew he had no right to tell her what to do with her life. They weren't together and she could do what she wanted and date who she wanted.
"I don't plan on staying out long and we're meeting in a fairly busy part of Diagon Alley so they'll always be people around and I can leave any time I want to. I'll probably get back before you so I'll have a Sobriety Potion waiting for you. It would be both cruel and dangerous for you to train with a hangover."
"An' this is definitely somethin' ye want?" He asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I've got to do this at some point, right? I'm not actually looking for a relationship, but going out on a single date can't hurt. At the very least I have a nice meal and I can come home."
~000~000~000~
Diagon Alley
"Cheer up, Cap, it's your birthday," Pallie said, slinging his arm around his shoulders and taking a swig of the muggle beer he held in his hand.
Oliver rolled his eyes. Whilst Pallie was by far the least drunk of his teammates, that wasn't a comforting thought and he was well on his way to having a hangover in the morning. All of his team had come to the manor after the match and had dragged him out for a night of celebration, and even Malloy was there. Oliver had assured the blonde that he didn't have to come as he knew the temptation would be too strong, but he'd merely waved him off and told him 'he wouldn't miss it for the world.' And much to Oliver's surprise, he'd been doing really well and all night the only thing he'd seen him drink was water.
He himself had had a couple of fire whiskeys and a few beers and whilst he did feel a little buzzed, he wasn't drunk and his mind was still clear enough to keep him alert. They were in the Crimson Lion, it now being his teammates favourite hotspot for both the variety of alcohol they served and the mix of muggle and wizarding music they played, not to mention, the price for entry and the drinks were hard to compete with.
Once they'd entered they'd gone straight to the bar and when Oliver had ordered the first round, Lee Jordan had refused to take payment saying that all drinks were on the house. Oliver had known immediately that was Hermione's doing, it being another gift to him. The first being a handful of novelty muggle cooking aprons with ridiculous quotes on that had made him laugh, the matching chef's hats and the black and white checked trousers. Though he'd known she'd done it for a laugh, he'd still appreciated it all the same. But she'd also baked him a cak, and he didn't know how she'd done so without him seeing, and not only was it a birthday cake, but his favourite, too.
Being reminded of Hermione, he remembered where she currently was and knowing that the witch you were in love with was on a date with another wizard really wasn't a good feeling, it being one of the reasons he wasn't in the mood to party. He couldn't blame her for it, as not only were they not together and he had no say in her life, but she didn't know of his feelings for her and if she did, he was sure she wouldn't want to do anything to hurt him and that meant she wouldn't date at all, it stopping her from living her life.
With her being on a date it made him realise that before he knew it she would be in a relationship with another wizard and he didn't want to be the poor sod that was in love with her and that had been friend zoned. He needed to find a way to get over her.
"Are you really sulking 'coz we didn't win?" Pallie asked.
Oliver frowned slightly but shook his head, reaching for his pint. They hadn't won the match but they hadn't lost either since they'd tied.
With players unable to be substituted when mid-game, it meant they'd had to play with the keeper down and no one to defend the hoops, so the chasers had to work extra hard to keep hold of the quaffle. The Tornados were beating them by a landslide until Thompson caught the snitch and given the score board at the time, it meant they tied for the game. The competitive side of him would rather they'd have won, but given he'd been out of the match he couldn't deny they'd done well to tie the game, and seeing as it technically wasn't a loss, the bosses hadn't been too unhappy with them either, so that was a bonus.
"Am not sulking," he replied.
"And I'm not the greatest chaser in the world," Pallie said, wincing when Malloy reached out from beside Oliver to slap him on the back of the head.
"Am not sulking," he repeated. "Am jus' pacing meself, ye know Coach is gunna be brutal at training. If we turn up with a hangover he'll make it ten times worse."
"I see your point," Pallie grimaced. "But at least put a smile on ya face, you look miserable."
Oliver rolled his eyes before he allowed them to search the room for the rest of his teammates, the majority of them being on the dance floor. As he moved his eyes back towards his beer, he accidentally locked gazes with a witch, and Oliver admitted that she was quite pretty with her long, loose wavy hair, light brown eyes and tanned skin. The witch in question smiled at him and beckoned him over to her on the dance floor.
There was only one way he was going to get over Hermione.
~000~000~000~
Wood Manor
Oliver had never felt so shitty in his life.
He'd never regretted a decision as much as he did right now.
Trudging up the stairs and opening the door, he stepped into the living room and headed over to the couch, flopping down and leaning back into the cushions. Tiredly, he scrubbed a hand over his face and wondered what the hell he was thinking in going home with that witch.
With a few drinks in him and thinking it best he got over Hermione as quickly as possible, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Merlin, now he just felt like an arsehole.
It wasn't until he was mid-sex with the witch that he realised he'd made a mistake and a big one. It wasn't until he looked down at the brunette that he'd realised what he'd done. The witch, she reminded him of Hermione. Her hair wasn't as curly or wild, her skin needed to be paler, her eyes darker and her lashes longer, but his subconscious had chosen her because she was the witch that had looked most like Hermione at the bar. Hermione was the witch he wanted.
Upon realising that fact, he'd felt as though he were betraying her and he didn't know how he'd managed to not bolt from the witch's apartment right away. He knew she'd already orgasmed by that point and he wouldn't feel too bad for just leaving her, so it had been easy enough to pull away from her and fake an orgasm. She'd fallen asleep not long later which was when he took his leave, apparated home and took a literal walk of shame.
Sighing to himself and knowing Hermione wasn't yet home, he stood from the couch and headed to his room as the need for a shower became too great. After stepping out, drying and throwing on some clothes, he headed to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea and he sat on the couch in silence, trying to convince himself that he absolutely wasn't waiting up until Hermione got home.
~000~000~000~
Oliver startled awake when the floo roared to life, his neck aching from the odd angle it had been laid at when he'd dozed off. Looking over the back of the couch, he saw Hermione stumble from the fireplace and almost fall, so he darted from the couch and over to her, helping to steady her.
She looked up at him, her hair tussled and wild, her eyes bright, her skin flushed and her smile wide. Looking down at her, he noted that she looked beautiful whilst wearing a simple black cocktail dress that wasn't too revealing and silver strappy heels on her feet.
"Oliver," she greeted brightly. Seeing as her words hadn't been slurred and she was able to stand straight without his help, he thought her to be slightly tipsy rather than drunk. "How was your night? Did you have fun? Do I need to get you a Sobriety Potion? Merlin, I'm surprised you got back before I did," she said, noticing that he was wearing pyjamas.
"It was fine," he lied, his guilt seeming to grow when she looked up at with her big brown eyes and bright smile. "And a dinnae drink much so a don' need a potion. Do ye?" He asked, feeling amused at seeing her this way. He didn't think he'd ever seen her so happy.
She laughed at him and shook her head. "No, I'm fine, thank you, just a bit merry but certainly not enough to feel it in the morning."
"So, a take it yer date went well," he said, and he hated himself because he was hoping it hadn't.
"Oh no, that was a complete disaster," she said brightly and he blinked, being surprised that she seemed so happy with that outcome.
She bent down to unbuckle the straps of her shoes, before slipping her feet free, leaving her shoes by the fireplace and heading over to the couch. He took a seat beside her and she pulled her legs up, tucking them beneath her as she turned to face him, her elbow resting on the back of the couch and her head supported by her hand.
"He was too self absorbed, he barely let me get a word in because he was too busy talking about himself. He was rude to the waiting staff, he ordered my food for me, a salad might I add, and he assumed that I would pay for the both of us because he said and I quote. 'You're rich, you can afford it.'"
"Shite," he said, genuinely surprised and also feeling ashamed of the wizarding population. If there was ever a person who deserved to be treated with kindness and respect it was Hermione. "Sounds like a charmer."
"Hmm," she hummed. "It's alright, Harry almost decked him one," she said and Oliver snorted. "Turns out Ginny hadn't completely done me over, she and Harry were at the same restaurant on a date of their own and to keep an eye on things and make sure I was safe. As soon as I paid for my meal, we left the restaurant and went out for a few drinks. I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun," she said brightly. "And she suckered me into another blind date on Saturday. She's assured me that this one isn't an arsehole but I don't really care. I'm more looking forward to going out with her and Harry again, but I suppose having a meal before isn't too much of an ask."
"So, why are ye so happy aboot yer date bein' so bad?" He asked curiously.
She shrugged her shoulders but the smile didn't leave her face. "When I was on my date, I realised that for the first time in a long time, I'm free. I don't have to worry; I no longer have to look over my shoulder. I can be seen in public with a man without fear of him being harmed. I may have been apprehensive about it, as I am about the next one, but I can do whatever I wish to now."
~000~000~000~
Wood Manor - Saturday 30th January, 1999
"So, what do you think?"
Oliver looked up from the counter, pausing in his movements of chopping up the carrots and onions and putting the knife down.
Hermione stood in the door way of the kitchen, her curly hair pulled back from her face in a messy bun but some had already fallen loose and were framing her face. She wore a navy blue dress with capped sleeves that sat off the shoulder and the hem of the dress ended just below her knees. On her feet she wore the same silver strappy heels she seemed to favour and she had the matching clutch purse held in her hand.
"Beautiful," he said honestly and she beamed at him, her cheeks flushing slightly.
"Thank you, do you think it's dark enough? Will the colour allow me to slip away into the cover of the shadows so I can leave without my date noticing?"
Oliver chuckled at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "Aye, it jus' might," he responded. "Ye seem tae have really bad luck," he commented, not that he was complaining.
In the two weeks that had passed Hermione had been on a total of six blind dates all set up by Ginny and with each date she attended, Hermione always came back a little bit merry, with flushed cheeks and horror stories of what her dates had said or done in the little time she'd spent with them.
Oliver had come to understand that the only reason she went on these dates in the first place was to keep Ginny off her back and she also used it as an excuse to be able to leave the manor and have a little fun with her friends, because that's how each of her dates had ended; Hermione parting ways with the wizards at the restaurant and meeting up with Harry and Ginny for a few drinks. Not that she needed an excuse; for years she was unable to let loose and have fun with her friends and when the time for that being possible came, she was prevented from doing so by a group of deranged wizards. Now that she was free and had no reason to worry, she could have the life she deserved. She may have been mature for her age as well having a highly respected profession and position for someone her age, but she was still a nineteen year old witch, and she deserved to have some fun.
But knowing this, Oliver no longer felt hurt or upset by it because she had no intentions of actually dating, but sooner or later he knew that was going to change, sooner or later she would go on a date with someone that wasn't rude, or insulting, or arrogant and she'd be swept off her feet and Oliver was dreading the day that happened.
"So, what are you making?" She asked, coming over to the counter beside him and swiping a slice of carrot, laughing when he batted her hands away.
"Chicken pie, vegetables, roast potatoes an' gravy," he answered.
Hermione let out a sigh. "I might just cancel and stay here, I've no doubt I'll probably enjoy my time with you a lot more."
Oliver was unable to stop the way he stood taller and his chest seemed to puff out, but still, he said, "It's tae late tae cancel, yer meetin' him in ten minutes so ye better go or ye'll be late."
"But, Oliver, it's chicken pie," she whined.
He snorted at her. "Ye an' a both know am making enough fer us both, even fer yer third helpings," he said amused.
"It's not my fault you're such a great cook. I highly doubt anything I eat tonight will be as good as your chicken pie, and as such, I might just stick to breadsticks until my date says something that has me wanting to reach over and slap him."
"Flattery won't get ye an extra pie," he told her.
"Will a smile?" She asked, giving him her brightest smile possible.
"A'll think aboot it," he replied.
She looked disappointed but otherwise shook her head. "Right, I better go, I would say don't wait up for me but we both know I won't be gone long, so I'll see you soon."
She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking out of the room, her heels making noise against the floor and her munching on the carrot stick she'd stolen.
Oliver hoped that this date went bad, too.
~000~000~000~
When the floo roared to life Hermione had only been gone an hour and he looked up to the fireplace expectantly, but was disappointed to see that it was his father.
"Don' look so sad tae see mae, son," he said amused, crossing the room and sitting on the other couch, watching Oliver curiously when he saw him laid out on the couch with the large dog sprawled across his chest and Oliver was reading through the evening edition of the Daily Prophet.
"A wisnae expecting ye," Oliver replied.
His father nodded. "Anno we promised tae let ye know befere we came over, but am not staying an' this will only take a few minutes."
Oliver raised an eyebrow and his father sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.
"As ye know, yer mother had her last potential chemotherapy session the other day, an' we've made an appointment with Dr. Clay fer Wednesday afternuin tae talk aboot her condition."
"A'll be there, Coach will let mae leave early," Oliver said.
His father smiled. "Anno ye'll be there, but yer mother has asked if Hermione will attend."
Oliver raised an eyebrow when his father smiled innocently. "A'll ask her, but am sure she won't mind. She's adamant she be a part af Ma's treatment, she doesn't really trust anyone else tae look after her."
"Great, a'll tell yer mother. Oot af curiosity, where is Hermione?"
Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Gone on a date, why?"
His father's eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly. "An' yer okay with tha'?" He asked surprised.
"Why wouldn't a be?" Oliver said, but his father gave him a very telling look and Oliver sighed. "A cannae stop her, Da. If she wants tae go on dates, then she can; it's her life."
"But ye love her, don' ye?"
"A love her," Oliver admitted, saying those words aloud for the first time and doing so in front of his father. The look on his face worried Oliver that he was about to have a heart attack. "A love her more than a've ev'r loved anythin', a love her more than a should, an' fer tha' reason am not gunna interfere in her life jus' tae make meself happy or me life a wee bit easier. Not tha' it really matters, she's only goin' on these dates tae get oot af the manor fer a bit. The issues tha' she was dealing with are gone an' she's safe now, and with her new found freedom she's enjoying herself like she deserves. She's got naw interest in dating an' each date she's been on has been a disaster and resulted in her leaving the restaurant an' goin' fer drinks with her friends."
"Oliver, I'm home!" Hermione's voice called from the foyer downstairs.
"Tha's me cue tae leave," his father said.
Oliver nodded. "A'll ask her aboot Wednesday, an' if a don' see ye befere, a'll see ye then."
As his father disappeared into the flames, the door opened and Hermione stepped inside.
"Ye weren't gone long. Why'd ye not floo?" Oliver asked, lifting himself up the best he could considering the large and heavy dog that was sprawled across him.
She huffed and he noted that her skin was flushed and she had an annoyed look on her face as she bent to unbuckle the straps around her ankles and she crossed over to the couch in bare feet, sitting herself down by his feet and reaching out to scratch Merlin when he lifted his head and licked at her hand in greeting.
"Not go well?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Absolutely not, he was the worst one yet," she fumed. "Not only was he late, but he was very late. Ten, fifteen minutes I can let go, but he was half an hour late! And not only that, do you know what his first words were to me?" He shook his head, unsure if he should be amused by her annoyance or angry on her behalf. "Go on, have a guess," she encouraged.
"A honestly don' know," he said.
She huffed and picked up the couch cushion from behind her and threw it across the room, letting out a noise of frustration.
"He said and I quote... 'You're not as skinny as I thought you'd be'."
"Shut up," Oliver said, his eyes widening in surprise and his eyes traced her features. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her. "He dinnae?"
"Oh he did, the prat's lucky I didn't hex him then and there. But you know, I thought it might just be nerves, a lot of people act differently when they meet me, so I gave him another chance. I ordered steak..."
"Ye do love yer steaks," Oliver nodded knowingly.
"Well, of course it wasn't as good as yours, but that's beside the point. The cheeky sod had the audacity to say that I couldn't possibly eat it because it was a man's food. And when I did eat it all and ordered dessert, he said and I quote... 'Well, no wonder you're so chubby.'"
Oliver's mouth dropped open.
"Yeah, exactly," she huffed. "I did order a slice of cake to bring back for you, but I'm sorry to say, he ended up wearing it."
Oliver laughed at her. "A much better ootcome," he assured her.
"It's alright, the restaurant owner was there and happened to witness the entire disaster that was my night, so he gave me my meal free of charge and said that the next time I visit, if I bring a more suitable date he'll give me a bottle of champagne and desserts free of charge."
"Tha's nice af him," Oliver remarked.
"Not really, if you think about it it's good advertisement for his business. If someone of my status is seen eating there then it surely must be good for others, too."
"A see yer point," he nodded, his mouth twitching when she crossed her arms over her chest and her lip jutted out in an adorable pout. "Yer sulky," he commented.
"I'm sulky," she agreed.
"Don' be sulky,"
"But I want to be sulky," she cried.
He snorted at her. "A've got a chicken pie with yer name on it."
"Alright, now I'm happy," she said, springing up from her seat and darting into the kitchen.
"Did a jus' get played?" He asked the large dog and he barked in response.
"Like Quidditch!" Hermione called from the kitchen and he snorted, shifting a couch cushion behind his head to prop it up more comfortably.
Hermione entered back into the room and much to his amusement, she hadn't bothered with the dinner he'd left on a plate in the oven, and it contained all the trimmings. Rather, she'd selected the extra pie he'd made and carried the tin in her hand with a fork in the other and she sat herself back on the couch.
"Like I said, the restaurant's food was nowhere near as good as yours. I should've just stayed home; I would've saved myself a lot of embarrassment and abuse."
"But ye wouldn't have gotten a free dinner," he pointed out.
"Still not worth it. I'd happily give my entire fortune for your chicken pie," she said, a little sigh leaving her when she forked some into her mouth. "And you know what else? The prat couldn't grasp the concept of eating with his mouth closed. I like seafood but not that much."
"Tha' was bad," he said amused.
She shrugged. "I thought it was funny. But seriously, it was like being on a date with a slightly meaner Ron and I didn't think that was possible, and don't even get me started on his face."
"What aboot it?" He asked amused.
"I said don't get me started, but since you asked... I admit he was handsome and damn his eyes were like the Caribbean Ocean, but his face... It was just so punchable."
His snort turned into a chuckle, which turned into a laugh until they were both laughing with their eyes on the verge of watering and Hermione almost dropped her pie which quickly sobered her.
"Gin's offered up another date but I said no, I've placated her long enough and now I'm done with it all. No more dates. If I feel the right wizard's walked into my life, then we'll see, but until then, you're stuck with me."
"Ye make tha' sound like a fate worse than death," he replied.
"It is," she nodded. "I'm a pain in the arse, I know it but I can't really change it either. So, sorry," she shrugged. "You didn't happen to make another pie, did you?" She asked, showing him the now empty pie tin.
"What do a get in return?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The biggest, brightest, cheesiest grin that I could possibly muster," she replied, doing so and he snorted at her.
"Alright, a deal well struck, top left oven."
"I mean it when I say you're my favourite person ever, just don't tell Harry, he might cry."
~000~000~000~
"Where is it now?" Hermione sighed, her eyes searching her room for the little duck that her dog loved so much.
Not long after moving in with Oliver, he'd bought Merlin a new toy –despite him having many- in the form of a duck teddy and Merlin was surprisingly gentle with it considering how he was with all his other toys. In fact, this particular duck was his baby, or he certainly treated it as if it was, and since having been given it, Merlin refused to sleep without it. He was able to nap during the day but when it came to actual bedtime, he refused to sleep unless he had it with him. And despite not being needed at the stadium the next morning, it was nearing midnight and she was in dire need of some sleep.
Hermione had searched her bathroom, bedroom and closet and being unable to find it, she left her room in search, checking the living room and the kitchen before heading downstairs. She'd already checked the dining room and kitchen, the piano room and the library and it brought her onto the last room, the swimming pool.
Carefully, as she didn't want to trip and fall, she searched beneath the lounge chairs before carefully walking around the pool, spotting the small duck in the corner of the room. She grumbled beneath her breath and picked it up, making her way back towards the door. Unfortunately for her, Merlin saw her holding it and he barked excitedly, ran over to her and jumped up at her. In doing so, he pushed her backwards and a scream fell from her lips as she toppled backwards and straight into the pool.
Panic filled her as the chlorine stung her eyes, water went up her nose and filled her mouth. She moved her arms and legs frantically, trying to get up to the surface so she could breathe but she didn't seem to be moving in any direction.
She felt the sudden movement of water around her and before she knew it, arms had wrapped around her and pulled her to the surface and she was spluttering and coughing whilst pushing her hair out of her face and blinking continuously to rid her eyes of the sting.
Her eyes locked on Oliver in front of her, a frightened look on his face, his arms wrapped around her and holding her to him, preventing her from falling back underneath the water and his pyjamas and hair soaked through just as hers was.
When she was able to breathe without coughing, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, feeling him holding her a little tighter and she let out a sigh.
"Merlin knocked me in," she said quietly.
"A thought tha' might've happened, a heard ye scream an' him barking an' came looking fer ye."
"I was looking for his bloody duck, you know he won't go to bed without it," she grumbled.
"Yer safe now," he promised her.
She pulled back from him slightly when she felt her back gently hit against a hard surface and she looked to see that he had trapped her between his body and the side of the pool.
"Why are you always my knight in shining armour?" She asked him.
He smiled at her amused. "Ev'ry damsel needs a knight, a guess am yers."
"Yeah, you are," she agreed, before reaching up to push his wet hair back from his eyes so he could better see.
When she lowered her hand, she realised that he was staring at her, and it was so intense she felt her cheeks flush and her breath hitched in surprise. She hadn't realised how close they actually were with their chests pressed together and barely any space between their faces.
"Oliver," Hermione whispered, when she saw his eyes dart away from hers and down to her mouth.
"Hmm?" He hummed quietly, his eyes darting back up to hers before moving to her mouth once more. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips in response.
"I..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do.
Why was he looking at her like that? He didn't care for her in that way, he didn't have feelings for her the way she did him. He saw her as nothing more than a friend so he had no right to look at her the way he currently was. It was confusing. Why was he doing this to her?
"I..." She cleared her throat, her own eyes darting down to his mouth. "Screw it," she muttered, before throwing caution to the wind; closing the gap between them and pressing her mouth against his.