CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
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'm so glad you loved the last chapter, I enjoyed writing it so much and I think it was worth the wait.
I don't know what this fic's doing to me but when the muse is cooperating as wonderfully as it is right now, I take advantage of it. I honestly don't know how but I'd only intended on this chapter being about 4000 words and I've gone over that by 5-bloody-000. There's definitely something wrong with me. I've literally pulled an all nighter because even though I'm exhausted, I just couldn't stop writing.
So now, I give you this gift of a 9000+ word chapter whilst I spend my Sunday sleeping all day. If my sleep pattern is thrown off, I can't even find it in myself to care. Enjoy whilst I sleep peacefully knowing I'm happy with my decision to stay awake to get this finished. (I'll give this a proper proof read once my sleep deprived brain is working again.)
Page count: 19
Wood Manor – Monday 1st February, 1999
"Mornin',"
A smile pulled at Hermione's mouth when arms wrapped around her and she leaned back, tilting her head slightly when a kiss was pressed to her cheek.
She honestly couldn't believe the direction her life had taken. In as little as a few hours she'd released all of her bottled up emotions and landed herself Oliver Wood not only as a boyfriend, but as someone she loved, someone she truly trusted and felt safe with. Someone she knew would treat her with kindness and respect.
And not only did she now have a boyfriend, but he'd given her the inspiration and courage she needed to return to her music. He'd brought it back into her life after she'd given up on it and she'd never been more grateful. Before books and knowledge, music had been her passion and giving it up had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but it had been even harder to return to it and she'd never been able to. She never in her wildest dreams thought she'd find her way back to it, especially because of a man and she knew she was a lucky woman to be loved and inspired by Oliver Wood.
In some ways she was grateful for what happened to her. Yes, it was horrific and they truly deserved to be punished for they did to her, and although they'd affected her life so negatively afterwards and she knew she'd never truly forget what they'd done to her and what they'd put her through, if it had never happened Oliver would've never been brought into her life. If it hadn't have happened, she'd have never fallen in love or been as happy as she was now. She truly believed that she'd found someone she could spend the rest of her life with, despite being so young, she believed it. She felt it.
"Morning," she replied. "I see you finally got up," she said amused.
She felt him shrug his shoulders. "After ten minutes a knew ye weren't gunna come back tae bed, so there was naw point in staying. Are ye sure a cannae convince ye tae stay home? We can jus' owl the stadium an' tell them we're sick."
She snorted at him. "I never thought I'd see the day Oliver Wood willingly took a day off work," she said. "And, no, you can't convince me. They'll find it suspicious that you're suddenly ill and not well enough to go to the stadium and likely send someone to check up on you. Not to mention, if I'm off on the exact same day, too. I don't have a specific work schedule but given I've been there nearly every day these last few weeks, they may find it suspicious if we're both not there. You must've noticed that they watch us when we're together, despite the fact we're careful when interacting with each other."
"They've been like tha' since ye turned up at the stadium an' had Dodd fired. They think a've got a secret girlfriend an' have fer months," he responded.
She chuckled. "Well now you have and for the time being we need to be careful. So don't be faking injuries too often or they'll pick up on it, especially if you seem to be getting injured more often than usual."
"A can use the bathroom excuse, tae," he said.
"Ben told me your obsession with the sport is so bad you don't take bathroom breaks during training hours, only at lunch."
"Damn, Malloy," he muttered and she laughed at him. "A'll think af somethin' else," he promised and she snorted.
"I don't doubt you will."
"So, what do ye want tae do tanight?"
"What'd you mean?" She asked, briefly looking up at him over her shoulder before flipping the bacon over in the pan.
"Now tha' we're tagether, a want tae take ye on an official date. Show ye hoo a wizard should treat a witch," he answered.
"That's sweet of you, but you don't have to take me on a date. I think I've been on enough to last me a life time."
"Tha' probably true, but a'd still like tae take ye somewhere."
"You know I don't mind just staying in, right?"
"Anno," he responded. "But a quite like the idea af wining and dining ya socks aff."
"Just my socks?" She asked amused.
"An' the rest af ye clothes," he admitted and she laughed at him.
"You know, a witch much prefers a man to cook her dinner rather than buy her it. It's more personal and romantic, it shows they care enough to take the time and put in the effort."
"A cook fer ye all the time," he said.
"Only because I'm rubbish at it and if I were to cook I'd give us both food poisoning," she pointed out and he snorted. "But you seem to be adamant about taking me out," she noted.
"Aye," he nodded. "Been thinkin' aboot it fer a while," he admitted. "But ye don' have tae worry, anno ye wanna keep us quiet fer the time bein', but not only have we been goin' oot in public tagether fer months an' naw one's spotted us tagether, a plan on takin' ye somewhere naw one will recognise us."
She looked up at him. "Okay, now I'm intrigued," she said. "If I agree to this date, what's the dress code?" He gave her a dazzling smile that briefly made her dizzy.
"Dress tae the nines, it's a bit af a posh do," he answered. "Anno ye don' care aboot all tha' but fer our first official date, a'm gunna spoil ya, an' yer not paying a knut." She opened her mouth to respond, but he didn't allow it. "Nope, yer not paying a knut," he repeated.
She scowled but otherwise nodded. "Fine, I should probably leave work early so I have time to wrestle my hair into submission."
He snorted. "A like yer hair," he said, reaching up to tug on the curl that had sprung free of her pony tail.
"You may, but I can't imagine the other diners being so fond of it," she replied. "Will you grab the brownies from the oven?" She asked. "You boys work too hard and so I thought I'd bake you all a little treat."
"On it," he said.
Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he did as she asked, unwrapping his arms from around her, grabbing a tea towel and removing the brownies from the oven, setting them down on the counter and seeing she'd made more than enough for the team twice over, even with their appetites which had only seemed to have grown upon discovering Hermione was an avid baker as she often brought them in treats.
Once they both sat at the table, they chatted comfortably and quickly ate their breakfast until they were finished, Oliver busied himself with putting the dishes in the sink to be later washed and Hermione set to packing the brownies into tupperware tubs.
Once done, they both headed for the fireplace with Merlin following behind them. Hermione reached for some floo powder only Oliver stopped her from doing so when he reached out, pulled her into him and crashed his mouth against hers.
She let out a noise of surprise but wrapped her arms around him, her hands clutching at his jumper and winding into his hair to tug at the strands. He kissed her until she forgot about everything but him, until it was getting harder to breathe, until she felt herself being lifted off the ground and her legs wrapped around his waist.
Rather reluctantly she pulled back from him, her eyes opening to see that he was looking at her with dark eyes. She realised her back was against the wall, not remembering him even backing her up to it and with her legs wrapped about his waist, she was glad it was still winter and she was wearing jeans. If she'd been wearing a dress or skirt, she was sure she'd crumble and give in, agreeing to pull a sicky so they could stay home all day and get lost in each other.
"One fer the road," he grinned, putting her back on her feet and smirking when she sagged back into the wall when he stepped away from her, seeing her glassy eyed expression, her rumpled appearance and her messy hair. He reached for the floo powder and stepped into the floo, leaving Hermione behind.
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium
Stepping out of the floo at the stadium, Oliver chuckled to himself and ran a hand through his hair, trying to tidy it up a little so one had reason to be suspicious, but he barely made it down the corridor when his teammates came out of nowhere, surrounding him.
"Hey, Cap," Pallie said, throwing his arm over his shoulders. "Why the good mood?"
"Good mood?" He said. "Am always in a good mood," he denied.
"Yeah right," Thompson muttered and Oliver sent him a glare.
"'Course you are," Pallie smiled. "But this morning you seem to be awfully cheery. What's the cause?"
"A don' know what yer talking aboot," Oliver muttered, shrugging Pallie's arm off him.
Just then the floo roared to life and Hermione and Merlin both stepped out, Hermione brushing herself down and Merlin coming over to greet the gathered players. Of course he went straight to Oliver and jumped up at him, earning raised eyebrows from the others but they soon turned their attention to Hermione, and he could see why.
Her cheeks were still flushed, her breathing a little heavier than usual, her robes and shirt still a little rumpled and her hair was no longer restrained by a bobble but spilling down her shoulders in messier than usual curls.
"Hey, Hermione," Thompson smiled innocently. "Why so flushed?"
Hermione stopped in her movements, looking up at them as if just realising they were there. Her eyes instantly sought him out before her cheeks flamed darker and she turned her eyes to Thompson.
She cleared her throat. "Just had a bit of a morning workout."
"Work out?" Bishop asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, I've made it my new year's resolution to be a bit healthier and work out more," she replied and her eyes briefly flickered to him and he found it very hard to hide his knowing smirk. He knew what she meant by work out and he was in full support of it. "I went for a jog this morning and realising I was going to be late, I found myself running home. Hence the flushed expression and breathlessness."
"And your hair?" Wilks asked.
"It's windy, it fell out of my bobble."
"Your clothing? Who goes jogging in jeans and a blouse?" Kings asked with a raised eyebrow.
Hermione's eyes widened in panic. "I got brownies!" She called, pulling the tupperware tub from her pocket.
That did the trick and their attention immediately went to the brownies in her hand. Pallie darted forward and took them from her before anyone else could and he ran down the corridor like a child that's just been asked to share his sweets. The team were quick on his heels chasing after him, all shouting at him for not sharing as he shoved a brownie into his mouth without stopping and then he went for a second one.
Hermione let out a breath of relief and he chuckled. She turned her eyes to him at the sound and she scowled at him. Annoying her further, he sent her a wink as he turned and headed down the corridor, hearing her huff of outrage and Merlin's paws against the floor as he followed at his side.
~000~000~000~
Hermione's morning had been very quiet. No one had been injured or fake injured and she'd spent the morning in her office, doing some research for a case she was working on as St. Mungo's had contacted her the day before about a new patient. Not only had she not had any visitors, but Merlin had been with the team all morning and not having him as a distraction allowed her to get on with her work. But whilst she didn't have him, thoughts of Oliver and what he'd done to her that morning kept slipping to the front of her mind and would distract her before she forced herself to focus.
A sudden knock on the treatment bay door sounded and she stood from her desk, calling for her visitor to enter as she stepped from her office and into the room, getting a surprise when not one, but two people walked in.
She knew their injuries weren't serious seeing as they'd walked to her office and she'd not been sent for, but still, seeing two injured players was different for her. But then again, one of them was Oliver and he sent her an innocent smile when she looked up at him.
"What happened?" She asked, slipping into healer mode and gesturing for her visitors to each take a seat on the examination tables. "Tony, we'll start with you," she said to the redhead.
"Hurt my wrist," he answered, holding out his left wrist for her to exam. "Bludger was a lot faster than usual and I didn't have chance to adjust my grip on the bat. I hit it at the wrong angle."
She gently took his wrist in her hand and hummed as she pulled her wand and cast diagnostic charms.
"It's not broken," she told him. "Just a sprain and it can be fixed easily," she said, muttering beneath her breath with her wand pressed against his wrist. "How does it feel?" She asked, releasing him and stepping back.
"Perfect," he replied, rolling his wrist this way and that, testing it out.
"Great, just wait fifteen minutes before you get back in the air. The spell can sometimes have side effects and I don't want it happening when you're on your broom."
"Fifteen minutes, got it," he nodded, hopping down from the examination table and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
The moment he was gone she moved over to Oliver, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "So, what injury do you have?"
He grinned at her and she sighed, reaching out to slap at his right shoulder and he let out a wince.
"Actually, a really do have an injury, dinnae even do it on purpose either. Bludger hit me shoulder," he said.
Her eyes widened and she jumped forward. "What! Merlin, why didn't you tell me?" She spoke, her voice rising and she slapped at his other arm, making him chuckle. "Shirt off, come on, quickly," she instructed.
"A knew ye only wanted mae fer me body," he teased.
She scowled and reached out to slap at his right shoulder, he winced, knowing she hadn't forgotten which one was the injured one and she'd done it on purpose. Quickly, as to not entice her to injure him further, he slipped his right arm out of his jumper and lifted it to show her his shoulder.
She frowned, her hand coming up to probe around the wound. "It doesn't actually look that bad," she mused. "I've certainly seen worse, and I don't think there's any broken bones either." She said, waving her wand over his arm and muttering beneath her breath before she nodded to herself, stepped back and went over to the potions cabinet. "It looks as though it just skimmed your shoulder rather than hitting it head on."
"Aye," he nodded. "A saw it quick enough tha' a was able tae dodge it," he confirmed.
"Shouldn't take too long to heal," she said, coming over to him with a familiar looking cream, before she placed it on and around the bruise and then covered it with some gauze and a bandage. "I reckon a couple of days and then it'll be fine."
She stepped away from him to put the cream away and wash her hands and then she turned to face him, seeing him readjusting his Quidditch jumper.
"There's not a fly ban for you, you can get straight back on your broom and you'll be fine. Off you go," she said, nodding to the door.
He smirked at her. "Tryin' tae get rid af mae, are we?"
"Yes, that's why I told you to get out," she replied.
He snorted at her and stood from the examination table, crossing over to her until he stood in front of her and he reached out, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into him, her hands coming up to press against his chest. He lowered his head to kiss her but she pulled back.
"We'll get caught," she said.
"We won't," he promised. "Naw one will come in here withoot knocking first. Not only is it impolite, but if they don' there's naw telling what they'll walk in tae. Imagine someone having a splinter in their arse from a cracked broom an' ye having tae remove it. Now tha's a sight tha' will traumatise both ye an' the idiot tha' dinnae knock first."
She laughed at him, shaking her head. "Fine, just a quick snog and then you have to go or they'll get suspicious. They'll have seen you getting hit with a bludger and they know it doesn't take long for me to treat an injury like that."
He grinned down at her before lowering his head and pressing his lips against hers, Hermione letting out a sigh when he pulled her firmly against him and she bunched her hands into his jumper, trying to keep them out of his hair should someone notice how messy it was.
He kissed her until she was breathless and when she pulled away from him, she honestly didn't know how it had happened and was more than surprised to see that she was laid on the examination table and Oliver was kneeling between her legs, holding himself up on his hands placed on either side of her head. She blinked, looking around in confusion and he smirked down at her. How the hell hadn't she noticed that happening?
"Someday am gunna convince ye tae let mae have ye here," he told her confidently.
"I don't think so," she scoffed.
"A will," he nodded. "The building's got rubbish security, we could always sneak in late at night or on a Sunday when naw one's here. We don' even have tae break in giving our full access passes."
"Not happening,"
"We'll see," he replied, before climbing down off the table and Hermione sat up, readjusting her robes. "A'll probably see ye at home, then?"
She nodded. "Yep, I'm leaving early so I better take Merlin with me."
He snorted. "If ye can get him away from the team tha' is," he replied amused. "A'll see ye later," he said, placing a kiss to her mouth before leaving out the room and closing the door behind him.
Hermione let out a sigh and flopped back down onto the table. "He's going to be the death of me," she muttered.
~000~000~000~
Wood Manor
Hermione stood in her bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror. After leaving the stadium early and dropping Merlin off at home, she'd headed straight into Diagon Alley in need of a new dress. Not only had she already worn all of her date appropriate dresses previously, she didn't want to re-wear a dress on her date with Oliver.
She hated to admit it as she usually didn't care about her appearance, but she'd spent two hours searching for the right dress. Oliver may have been taking her somewhere they wouldn't be recognised, or so he said, but she wanted to make sure she didn't embarrass him or herself by turning up in a previously worn and non-appropriate dress.
After returning home she made the decision to ready in her own room and use her own bathroom in case she wasn't finished by the time Oliver returned from training, as she knew he'd want dress and ready, too, and she wanted her new dress to be a surprise for him.
But not only had she bought herself a new dress, she'd gone to the hair dressers, too, something she hadn't done in a long time. She'd spent more time there than she did looking for a dress and it had made her grateful of the fact she'd left the stadium at lunch time. The hair dresser -a flamboyant Italian man that had berated her for the state of her hair- had chopped off all of her dead and split ends, gave her hair a deep conditioning and styled it into an elegant up do, and he'd earned every penny she'd been charged, whilst also making her promise to not go so long without visiting again.
Taking a bath had been difficult even with the charms she'd placed on her hair to not only keep it in place, but to protect it from the steam of the hat water. She'd put as many lotions and bath bombs as she'd dared into the water and took a few minutes to relax and enjoy the hot water being heavenly on her tense muscles, before she set to work scrubbing her body clean and shaving her under arms and legs until her skin was smooth.
After getting out of the bath and drying off, she applied more lotions to her skin and then slipped on her dress, being thankful that there were no buttons and the zip was at the side and not the back. She'd slipped on a little jewellery and her heels, before applying a small amount of makeup and she stood in the mirror, scrutinising herself, though she really didn't have time to make any changes as she'd heard Oliver arrive home nearly half an hour ago and knowing him, he was probably already ready and waiting for her.
The dress she'd bought was navy blue, it being not only her favourite colour but Oliver's, too. The dark silky fabric not only contrasted against her pale skin, but fit to her frame perfectly, flaring out at the waist slightly and falling down to the ground. The features of the dress being off the shoulder cap sleeves and having a sweetheart neckline combined with her hair being up, all showed off the pale skin of her shoulders, her neck and collar bones as well as a small amount of cleavage that wasn't too revealing. When she moved her golden heels and her right leg were revealed by the split up the thigh, and the golden bangles and simple locket she wore around her neck completed the look. Makeup wise she'd only added a small amount of mascara to lengthen and darken her lashers, a little nude shimmer eye shadow and a clear coat of gloss on her lips.
Knowing she really couldn't make Oliver wait any longer, she accepted there was nothing more she could do and she turned away from the mirror and left out the room, her heels echoing in the large manor as she made for the living room.
Oliver was stood at the windows, looking out over the grounds of the manor with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a tumbler of untouched fire whiskey. Hearing her approaching he turned away from the windows with a smile on his face, it soon dropping as his eyes widened and his mouth parted, much like it had the night of The Malfoy's Christmas Ball. In fact, he almost dropped his fire whiskey, making her giggle.
She looked him over and he looked as handsome as always. He seemed to favour muggle attire as he was once again wearing a black tux, a white shirt beneath the buttoned jacket and seeing him wearing a bow tie let her know that wherever he was taking her really was fancy and she hadn't over dressed.
She came to a stop in front of him, her heels putting her closer to his height than usual so she didn't have to tilt her head to look up at him, and the way he was staring at her had a blush covering her cheeks.
"Ye look stunning," he complemented.
Despite the heat to her cheeks she smiled and placed her hand in his when he held his out to her, bending and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
"Thank you, you look quite dashing yourself," she smiled.
"Navy blue an' yellow?" He questioned with a quirk of his mouth.
"Puddlemere," she confirmed and he looked amused, but leaned forward to kiss her. Seeing her gloss covered lips and thinking better of it, he pressed a kiss to her cheek instead. "Smart man," she praised. "Never smear a witch's lip gloss, she'll hex you." He chuckled at her. "So, where are you taking me?"
"Tha's a surprise," he replied. "An' we better get goin, don' worry aboot needing a cloak, we're flooing straight there."
Feeling curious, Oliver slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and he guided her over to the fireplace after depositing his still untouched tumbler on the bar. Grabbing some floo powder, Oliver called out an address she didn't recognise and the flames over took them.
~000~000~000~
Paris, France
Stepping out of the floo –which Hermione noted had taken a little longer than usual to arrive at their destination- Hermione's eyes took in the sight of the dim lighting in the room, the gold patterned wallpaper, the high ceilings and the beautiful chandeliers that hung from above. Golden drapes hung from the windows and were pulled back to show the views surrounding them but at the angle and position she was stood, she couldn't see where they were or what was outside.
From what she could see, there weren't that many tables in the large room and they were spaced out in such a way that not only allowed for easy movement about the room, but gave the feel of complete privacy, as if you and your date were the only ones present. By her count there were no more than fifteen tables and each were covered with white table cloths, had a beautiful centre piece and two comfortable looking chairs.
As Oliver guided her forward with a hand on the small of her back and the other holding hers delicately, even wearing shoes she could feel how soft the patterned carpet was and the temperature in the restaurant was perfect, not too hot and not too cold. As they neared what she thought was the checking-in station she noticed the soft and quiet sounds of music, a violin and a harp, she thought.
They stopped by the podium, the twenty-something wizard with dark hair and bright green eyes looking up and firstly going to her, his eyes widening in surprise.
Hermione felt her breath leave her. He bloody recognised her!
The urge to whack Oliver was strong but she refrained when he turned his eyes to Oliver and they widened even further.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Wood," he spoke, his accent not so thick that you couldn't understand him, but certainly enough that she believed she knew what cuisine she'd be eating that night.
"Good evening, Raphael," Oliver replied with a nod of his head.
Hermione looked at him curiously. How did he know his name? And now that she thought of it, why had the wizard addressed Oliver with such familiarity? Was she not the first witch he'd brought here before? She felt jealously flare up within her and squashed it down. Hermione Granger didn't do jealousy.
"Has ev'rything been prepared as requested?"
"Qui, it has, please, if you will just follow me, I'll take you to your table," the French man spoke.
He stepped out behind the podium and led the way, Oliver once more guiding her forward and as they crossed the room, Hermione was aware of there being other diners present. When she'd first seen the room she'd believed the tables to have been unoccupied but as she walked past them she realised they were merely charmed to give them privacy and they could only be seen whilst walking past.
Shaking her head, they came to a stop at a table that sat right in front of one the large floor to ceiling windows and before she could have chance to be nosy and try and figure out where they were, Oliver was pulling her chair out and helping her to sit, before pushing her in and crossing to take his own seat.
"Louis will be with you shortly," the wizard said, handing Oliver a menu and then Hermione.
"Thank ye, Raphael," Oliver replied, nodding to the wizard and he turned and left them alone.
Hermione took a moment to look over the menu, noticing that it was all in French and she couldn't understand a word of it.
"Cannae read it?" Oliver chuckled, obviously seeing her puzzled expression.
"Not a clue what it says," she admitted. "Can you read it?" She asked curiously, wondering if he spoke French and she'd had no idea.
"Not a word," he told her and she laughed at him. "If ye tap the top left corner af the menu three times, it'll translate it tae English fer ye."
Hermione eyed him curiously before doing as he said and he was right, the words before her suddenly becoming legible and she looked up at him suspiciously. How did he know that?
"Ye have naw reason tae be suspicious, Damsel," Oliver spoke softly, apparently seeing her expression. "Yer the first non-related witch a've brought here. In fact, a've only visited with me parents," he said.
Hermione was a little ashamed of herself that she seemed to relax at his words, knowing that he wasn't lying to her. Her eyes finally moved to the window and when she looked out they widened and she almost dropped the menu when the view of the Eiffel Tower met her sight. That wasn't a replica. It was the actual Eiffel Tower! And it was lit up beautifully, shining brightly in the dark of the night with the stars high above it.
He'd not only taken her to a fancy French restaurant, but to bloody France!
He chuckled at her. "A guess the surprise is ruined now," he said, drawing her attention. She tried to speak but couldn't find the words and he chuckled once more. "A should've told Raphael tae give us a table withoot a view. A had planned on takin' ye up the tower after dinner."
"You brought me to Paris? On a first date?" She finally managed to speak.
He smiled and nodded. "Paris is the City af Love, right? Where else would a take the witch tha' has me heart? An' dinnae ye mention tha' ye'd always wanted tae visit Paris?"
Hermione had never been more surprised, she'd never felt so touched or overwhelmed and she'd never felt such love for one person. She could feel her eyes tearing up and his smile dropped from his face.
"Should a not have brought ye here?" He asked frowning.
She shook her head and took a deep breath, reaching over the table to take his hand in hers.
"No," she said quietly, trying to calm herself. "I'm just a little a overwhelmed that you've gone to so much trouble for me, that you've done something so thoughtful."
His smile returned and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It was naw trouble, yer worth it. A witch like ye is hard tae find an' when ye do, ye do ev'rything ye can tae make sure she knows what she's worth, tha' she knows hoo special she is."
"Oh God! I'm going to cry," she whispered, taking a breath and breathing out slowly. He chuckled at her and gave her hand another squeeze. "If this is our first date, what do you have planned for future dates?"
He smiled. "Ye ever been tae Italy?" He asked. She spluttered. "Hoo aboot Greece? Berlin? Brazil?"
"I'm going to have a heart attack," she breathed slowly and he laughed. "Have you?"
"Aye," he nodded. "A visited with me parents when a was still in Hogwarts. It was the only thing they could do tae manage me Quidditch obsession," he said amused. "Ye feeling alright?" He asked, seeing that she looked a little queasy.
She nodded. "Fine, just need a minute to process the fact I'm in Paris, sat at a table with the view of the Eiffel Tower, and I need to wrap my head around the idea of you dragging me off to cities and countries I've only ever dreamed of visiting."
"Ye don' have long, the waiter's comin' over."
She looked down at her menu, her eyes scanning her options. "If I order steak, will you call me fat?" She asked, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.
He snorted at her. "If ye order steak, then a am tae," he responded. "The steak here is some af the best a've ever eaten."
"Really? Giving your talent, that's high praise indeed."
His mouth twitched in amusement at the fact she refused to believe that anyone else's cooking was better than his, even if the food was made by a world renowned chef.
"Do ye prefer muggle or elf wine? They serve both here."
She looked surprised but answered, "Elf wine."
When the waiter stopped by their table he took Hermione's order of duck pate and Oliver's order of mushroom and mussel tart as an appetizer, and then took their orders of steak with a creamy cognac sauce, green beans and boiled potatoes for a main.
When their elf wine was brought to them and poured, Hermione sipped from her glass with her eyes watching out the window, seeing the Parisians and tourists mulling about but being so far away they looked like ants.
"You never told me the name of this place," Hermione mused.
"Amour," he answered and Hermione nearly choked on her elf wine and she set it down on the table.
"Amour? The Amour? One of the most world renowned restaurants in both the Muggle and Wizarding World? That Amour?"
"Aye, tha' one," he nodded, clearly amused.
"How the hell did you get a reservation so quickly? I've read about this place, there's a waiting list of three months. It's one of the most successful restaurants to date, and it's only been open for four years. And while we're on the subject, Raphael? He recognised us, of course he did, but when he looked at you it wasn't just familiar, it was fearful. Like he might lose his job fearful."
"Yer tae observant fer yer own good," he shook his head with a smile. "A suppose a better let the cat oot af the bag."
"Before I have a heart attack, I'd appreciate it."
He snorted at her. "Am a silent partner."
"What?" She blurted out.
"Am a silent partner," he repeated amused. "A own a third af the restaurant."
"What?"
He chuckled at her. "It was me parents gift fer me eighteenth birthday. A wizard they'd gone tae school with spent years training under some af the best chefs in the world. He spent a decade travelling the world, learning aboot different cuisines and when he returned tae Britain he wanted tae open his own restaurant. He an' his cousin were both gunna invest an' me parents knew hoo much a love cookin', they knew if a wasn't a Quidditch player I'd want me own restaurant, so they put in an investment in me name fer me birthday. It took jus' under a year tae get ev'rything set up, but none af us knew hoo successful it would be. We've been having talks aboot opening up other branches across Europe, we think its time tae start branching oot."
She stared at him. Just stared.
"Ye alright?"
"I'm getting a headache," she said, reaching for her wine glass and taking a large gulp, before setting it back down.
"Ye own half af a bar, why's this surprised ye?"
"Exactly, I own half a tiny, little, miniscule bar in Diagon Alley. You own a third of a multi-million galleon restaurant! I need to sit down," she muttered.
"Ye are sitting doon," he said amused.
"I think I'm going to faint,"
"Get some wine in ye an' ye'll be fine," he shook his head, chuckling when she did just that, downing the rest of her glass like it was pumpkin juice and he reached for the wine bottle, pouring her some more.
"Any more surprises I need to know about?" She asked.
"Naw," he shook his head, despite knowing he was keeping something from her. More specifically, the conversation he'd had with Bobby and the revelation that had come to light.
He hadn't really thought much about what he'd learned. When he'd realised he'd loved Hermione, despite not being with her at that point, he'd already been imagining what life with her would be like, what it would be like to marry her and have kids with her.
Learning that she was to be his future wife, whilst it had been surprising, the longer that went by the less surprised he was. He'd come to terms with the fact he was sitting across from the woman he'd build a life with. It was one of the reasons he'd brought her to the restaurant in the first place. He'd known she'd pick up on things others wouldn't and it would lead to questions she'd want him to answer.
He didn't want to have secrets from her –except the marriage thing of course, it was best not to scare her off- and bringing her to the restaurant gave him a reason to tell her about it without just blurting it out randomly. After all, it would be a bit suspicious if you told your girlfriend of two days about your investments and assets, even if you did love her.
But he'd also brought her to the restaurant because it meant a lot to him, just like her music did to her, and he wanted to share it with her. He'd meant what he'd said about spoiling her and making sure she got to experience and see as much of the world as possible.
A witch like Hermione would appreciate the beauty and culture of the major cities, where he knew others would much prefer the sun and sand of tropical islands. The rain and cold didn't bother Hermione. He suspected that if he took her to the South Pole where they'd freeze their arses off, she still wouldn't complain because she got to see the penguins, of which he knew were one of her favourite animals.
Hermione wasn't a materialistic person, she wasn't the type to complain or to take things for granted. She always put others before herself, she always treated others with kindness –unless they deserved otherwise which he could understand- and because of the type of person she was, because of how she'd suffered both during the war and after, and how she'd come through it stronger than ever, he just wanted to give her everything he possibly could.
She was to someday be his wife and he was going to make sure he did everything he possibly could to not ruin things with her and ensure that Bobby's words came to fruition.
Oliver would never keep secrets from her, with the exception of just this one.
~000~000~000~
"Ye alright?"
"Hmmm," Hermione hummed, leaning further back into Oliver's chest as he stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her as they both looked out at the City of Love from their place atop the Eiffel Tower. "I'm not going to lie, I'm absolutely terrified right now, but I know there's a railing in front of me and I trust you won't let me fall."
"Great, guess tha' means we can start flying lessons," he replied.
"Sure, if you want me to shove you over the railing."
He chuckled at her. "Baby steps it is,"
She sighed. "I honestly don't know how you're going to top this in the future."
He perched his chin on her shoulder and turned his head, placing a kiss to her neck before whispering in her ear, "Venice. Lisbon. Vienna. Anywhere in the world ye want tae go, a'll take ye."
She let out a groan before turning in his hold and not caring about her lip gloss -which she was sure had been wiped off ages ago anyway- she reached up to wind her hands in his soft hair and kissed him with the intentions of stealing his breath and making him dizzy. She guessed it'd worked because when she pulled back from him, his chest was rising and falling quickly, his hands gripped at her hips and his eyes were dark and filled with heat and fire.
"I really don't deserve you," she whispered, her gaze locked on his and a hand coming down to rest against his face, her thumb swiping across his cheek bone.
His mouth pulled into smile and he leaned into her touch. "Ye deserve ev'ry good thing in this world. It's mae tha' doesn't deserve ye."
"We'll be here all night if we argue over this," she pointed out and he chuckled. "I just need you to know that when I say I love you, I mean it. I don't say those words often, but I do mean them. I really do love you, Knight."
He smiled down at her, his hand coming up to brush back the curl that had been trying to break free all night and had finally done so. "Anno, jus' as a love ye, Damsel," he said, lowering his head to kiss her again.
"As much as I don't want to leave and I'd happily stay here with you for the rest of my life, we should probably get home. It's getting late and we both have work in the morning."
He nodded and kissed her lightly on the mouth, pulling back with a raised eyebrow when he saw her biting her lip.
"What?"
Her face flushed, which meant she was either nervous or embarrassed, probably the latter.
"At the restaurant, you said you were 'going to take me up' the Eiffel Tower after dinner."
"Right?"
She sighed and her head dropped forward to bury against his chest, him feeling her body shaking as she laughed. "I swear you're a bad influence on me; when you said that it was so hard for me not to laugh."
He frowned in confusion before she lifted her head and he saw her flushed cheeks, her amused smile and her bright eyes, and then it suddenly hit him and he let out a laugh of surprise.
"Miss. Granger, such a dirty mind," he teased and she flushed a darker shade, but nodded in agreement.
"I know, but now I can't stop thinking about it."
"A've corrupted ye," he said.
"I know you have," she cried and he snorted.
"Well, as much as a'd love tae 'take ye up the Eiffel Tower'..." Her breath hitched. "Am not risking someone seein' ye half naked, but if we go home now..."
"Let's go," she said brightly.
~000~000~000~
Wood Manor
Stumbling out of the fireplace and into the manor, Hermione had to pull away from Oliver as he'd kissed her the moment they'd landed and she nearly tripped over her dress. He didn't look pleased but he didn't argue when she moved her to the couch, gripping it for balance as she bent down to untie the straps from around her ankles and kicking off her heels.
Oliver made his way over to her but was distracted when Merlin came bounding down the corridor to greet them both, his barks of excitement being loud and his size meaning he almost knocked Hermione over. Chuckling, she sent him off to bed with his favourite duck that she'd found beneath the coffee table and Oliver looked at her as though he wanted to devour her.
"Will you give me five minutes? There's something I need to do first."
Oliver looked confused but otherwise nodded, his eyes following her as she gave him a smile and she stepped around him, going for the door and heading down the stairs. He waited for a few minutes before he heard it, the calming sound of a melody he didn't recognise but knew where it came from and who was responsible for it.
He removed his jacket and hung it over the back of the couch before unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt and making his way towards the grand piano room. He found Hermione sat at the piano, her hair no longer being up but spilling down her back in soft ringlets, him noting that it was a little shorter than he remembered it being.
Soft candle light flickered over her face as the floating candles dimly lit the room and her eyes were closed as her hands danced over the keys like they'd been doing it all her life. She stopped suddenly and picked up the quill from on top of the piano and she scribbled away at the bit of parchment with a concentrated frown on her face. She put the quill down and returned to playing the same melody he'd just heard.
He crossed the room and sat beside her, knowing she knew he was there because she leaned against him.
"What are ye doin'?" He asked curiously.
"Sorry, I know we had plans, but I got distracted," she replied, her eyes still closed and her hands still dancing over the keys, the soft melody surrounding them. "When I said you were my inspiration I meant it. All through our date I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what certain notes would sound like if they were played in a specific pattern, if the tempo was changed, if the notes were replaced or others were added in. I had it all floating about in my head and I knew that I wouldn't be able to focus until I wrote it down so it wouldn't be forgotten," she explained, her fingers coming to a stop and she reached out for the quill once more.
He stole a peak at what she was scribbling and none of it made sense to him, the same way he knew he could write out a Quidditch play and it would make no sense to her. He supposed that's why they worked so well together. They were both very passionate people. But he knew they'd have to be careful that passion didn't destroy them. It wasn't often his temper showed but when it did it rivalled Hermione's.
"It sounded beautiful," he told her.
"Thank you," she smiled, putting down the quill and turning to face him. "But it's literally the first eight seconds of the piece. Most are at least four and half minutes long. I've got a long way to go yet."
"So yer actually creating a new song?" He asked surprised.
She nodded. "I'm trying to, and you're my inspiration. What you did for me tonight, it was so incredible and thoughtful that the only way I know how to properly express myself would be through my music, hence my working on a new piece. But I'm still rusty, like you now know, it's been eleven years since I've had anything to do with music."
He smiled down at her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek and his head lowered to kiss her. Before either of them knew it her back was pressed up against the edge of the piano and she was clinging to him tightly as he pressed kisses to her neck and shoulders. The piano keys played each time she squirmed against him and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped.
"What's so funny?" He mumbled against her skin.
"Nothing, it's just... There's this muggle film, it's called Pretty Woman. It's about a prostitute that meets a rich man. He pays her to be his escort for a week and it's basically about how they fall in love and change each other for the better. Anyway, it's famous for a piano sex scene and this just reminded of it."
"Maybe next time," he muttered, tugging her forward and swiftly lifting her into his arms, carrying her out of the room, up the stairs and to the bedroom.
He set her down on her feet and was quick to find the zipper of her dress, undoing it and whilst Hermione shimmied out of it, leaving her in her dark lace underwear and after having a good stare, he quickly removed his shirt, dropping it to the ground to rest with her dress. He picked her up and set her down on the mattress, crawling up her body and hovering over her as he kissed her senseless.
Needing to breathe after a little while, he tore his mouth from hers and peppered kisses down her cheek and to her neck.
"Okay, I've changed my mind, you can owl the stadium and tell them you're sick and we'll just stay in bed all day," Hermione sighed, her hands winding into his hair to keep him to her.
He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations having her shifting beneath him and wrapping her legs around his hips.
"They won't believe am sick, a was fine taday," he muttered.
She tugged on his hair when he nipped at the skin of her throat and soothed it with a swipe of his tongue.
"Tell them you had an allergic reaction to a new shampoo you bought."
"An' what aboot ye?"
"I told Coach I might be visiting my parents so if I don't turn up at the stadium he won't think anything of it."
He pulled back to look down at her with an amused smile on his face, not only at what she'd just said but at the way a whine fell from her lips and she tried to pull him back to her.
"Did ye plan this? Ye already had the excuses ready."
"Not exactly, but I had thought about it. At some point we were bound to pull a sicky and I knew we were going on a date so I was a bit hopeful. And given the absolutely wonderful date and you proving you're the perfect boyfriend any girl could wish for, I'm glad I did."
"Ye do realise tha' yer not gunna get a lot af sleep, right?"
"I hope you realise that you're not going to get of sleep," she repeated. "And that's why we're pulling a sicky, so we can sleep off our exhaustion for most of the day."
He smirked down at her, his eyes growing darker the longer their gaze held.
It was going to be a long night but neither of them cared.