CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
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 honestly hadn't meant for this to be so long a chapter, but it happened. Again. It's almost 5 am and I was in a great mood until literally ten minutes before posting this, I just found out from someone who was kind enough to inform me, that someone's been plagiarising one of my works on wattpad, 'Save Me, My Wolf.' They've literally copy and pasted everything word for word, used the same title and used the same image, just cropped out my name. I've reported them and left a review stating the truth, I only hope they take the time to read it and believe me. Check it out for yourself, pen name: throne_ismine. I don't ever ask this, but maybe some of you who've read it can head over and vouch for me? I could use all the help I can get for this one. Does anyone know if FFN will get involved if I can find a way to report it?
Now, I'm in a terrible mood, I'm almost in a flood of tears and my hands haven't stopped shaking. So posting a massive-arse chapter like this, I'm hoping it'll improve my mood and that everything gets sorted out.
Q&A
(Spanish) Guest – Maybe all isn't as it seems.
Page count: 28
Wood Estate – Friday 26th February 1999
"So, where are we heading tamorrow?" Oliver asked, watching over Hermione's shoulder as she magically moulded the biscuits into the shape of a flying figure on a broom, before she levitated them into the oven to bake and turned her attention to moulding the second batch into the shape of a golden snitch, wings and all.
His mouth tugged at the corners and he snorted before turning his head and pressing a kiss to her cheek, his arms folding around her a little tighter and his gaze darted over to the bacon in the pan, making sure it wasn't burning before he turned his eyes forward.
"Tomorrow?" She questioned.
"Aye, where are we spending the weekend? Florence? Prague? Bulgaria?"
"We might run into Viktor," she mused thoughtfully.
"Not Bulgaria," he decided and she laughed at him. "Definitely not Bulgaria."
"You know, Viktor was good to me."
"Doesn't mean a have tae like him," he muttered.
"Are you jealous?" She teased.
"Jealous?" He scoffed.
"Jealous," she confirmed, twisting to look up at him over her shoulder, snorting at the scowl on his face. "Relax, as much as I adored Viktor, I love you. There's nothing for you to worry about, I promise." She assured him, reaching up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw before facing forward and sending the biscuits to the second oven to bake and then reaching out, turning off the hob to stop the bacon from burning. "Besides, have you forgotten?"
"Forgotten?" He questioned.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," she chuckled. "I won't be here."
"Why?" He frowned, pulling back from her and she turned to face him, being trapped between the counter and his body as she stared up at him and he pressed his hands against the surface.
"It was only the other day, do you seriously not remember?"
"Not really," he admitted.
"I'm taking my mum and your mum away for the weekend."
"A thought tha' was jus' a hypothetical conversation. A what-if type af thing."
"And it was, until my mum sent word that she really needed some time away from work and given everything your mum's been through lately, we decided it a good idea to head out for a spa weekend. Your mum's got her last chemotherapy treatment on Tuesday before our next meeting with Dr. Clay. You've seen how the treatment can affect a person, and she's been under a lot of stress lately, this will be good for her."
"Does me ma know aboot this?"
"Yes, I floo called on Monday and she was so excited to have this time with me. She called it a girl's bonding weekend, mentioned she'd always wanted a daughter and I was the closest thing to one she's ever had, and she and my mum got on pretty well at dinner."
Oliver had seen. He and Hermione had thought it a good idea to get their parents together, a chance to meet one another now that it was all out in the open between them, and so the previous Sunday, they'd had dinner at Hermione's parent's house, the six of them. They didn't want to overwhelm her parents by bringing them to a wizarding house, nor to Wood Estate as they had no idea of just how wealthy he was or of the fact he owned an estate with guesthouses on the property, and the news would likely surprise them, too. They'd gone for the safer option of dining at the Grangers, somewhere they'd be more comfortable.
His and Hermione's mother had gotten on like a house on fire, often being found whispering and giggling between one another like school girls as they sipped at wine. They'd had two bottles between them and had been quite tipsy, if not drunk, by the end of the night. It didn't take a genius to understand what they were talking about given the way their eyes darted between him and Hermione, both of them in the know about his intentions of one day marrying her. Oliver couldn't even find it himself to be annoyed at their less than obvious staring and potentially throwing a spanner in the works because he'd never seen his mother happier.
There had been a little tension between his father and Hermione's, especially since Mr. Granger had spent most of the evening scowling at him regardless of the fact he officially had his permission to marry his daughter, and that was something his father had taken offence to. Once the alcohol was flowing and they convened in the living room, their fathers gathered around the TV with Hermione's father explaining the basics of the muggle sports game that was playing. After that, there hadn't been a problem, the two men had bonded over sports and their attention had been drawn for nearly two hours.
The future in-laws had finally met and seemed to get along well, which brought him one step closer in building a life with Hermione.
But he'd have to have a talk to his mother, remind her to be careful about she said when around Hermione.
"I told you days ago, but then, you did have your head buried in a playbook so you probably weren't paying much attention."
"Sorry, Damsel," he sighed. "It's jus', it's game day an' a have tae get the team ready."
"I know," she nodded. "And I know that no matter the outcome this afternoon, you'll play brilliantly and I'll be proud of you. It's not all about the winning."
"It is," he disagreed and she snorted at him.
"Regardless, I know you'll do great. And to keep the team motivated and their sugar levels up, I've made Quidditch inspired biscuits," she gestured to the ovens with a tip of her head, "And I'm about to make a start on the brownies, Malloy's wish." Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Come on, he's earned a little favouritism, he's doing great and hasn't had a drink since New Year's. But never mind that, my dad's taking your dad fishing this weekend, and wants to know if you'd like to go, too."
"Fishing? With him?" Both eyebrows shot up.
"Yes, fishing, but if I'm honest, there's likely to be less fishing and more getting drunk around a campfire. I'm not going to force you to go or ask anything of you, but I do think this could be good for you. I know my dad's hard to get along with and I know he's protective of me, I think he just wants time to figure you out, without me being there."
If Oliver was honest, he was terrified of being alone with her father but not only did he know this could be beneficial to him, he wouldn't be alone as his father would be there, too.
"A suppose a could go,"
"Really?"
"Really,"
She beamed up at him. "Great, I'll let him know and I'll get the details for you later. Your mum's flooing over tomorrow morning, we're going to my parents and we're driving down to the spa retreat. We're all booked in for the weekend and I'll be back Sunday night. I told my dad you work Saturdays so you'll probably meet up after training."
"Will ye be here in the mornin'?"
"I don't think so, I'll be leaving before you wake. Coach knows I won't be at work tomorrow, and you'll have to leave Merlin here, it'll be suspicious otherwise. As for the fishing trip, if you want to take him with you, that's fine, but if you want to leave him here, I know Bobby'll take care of him."
"He will," he nodded in agreement.
"Well, I'm just going to pop to the bathroom, you finish breakfast and I'll make the brownies before we leave."
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium
"Hey, Wood? Where are you going?" Pallie called from down the corridor. "We have to do the after-match interview."
"Anno, Pallie, but a hurt me shoulder durin' the match, Am gunna see Granger an' get it looked at befere a make it worse. Ye take the lead on this one."
"Yeah?" He asked in surprise.
"Aye, it's all yers, ye were the highest scoring player af the match, yer've earned it."
"Oh, right, thanks. I'll see ya in the locker room in a bit then," he replied, his eyes lingering on him a little longer before he shook his head, turned and jogged down to the huddled team, all waiting outside the door that would lead them into the conference room.
Once he was gone, he continued on his path, accepting greetings and acknowledgements from the staff at the stadium and nodding and smiling in return, until he came to a stop at the door leading to the medical bays. He knocked twice before he stepped inside, closed the door behind him and before he'd even had the chance to turn around and brace himself, arms were wrapped around him, squeezing tightly and he fell back against the door.
"Congratulations!" Hermione squealed happily, hugging him tightly. He laughed and settled his arms around her, holding her against him. "I can't believe you won. Well, I can, I knew you had it in you, but still, I can't believe you won! And with zero injuries! Best day ever!"
"A take it yer happy," he laughed.
"So happy, for you, and, of course, me too; I didn't have to heal you. I hate being stuck in the Coach's box, the best seats in the entire bloody stadium means the worse everything is for me, and I bloody well near had a heart attack when that bludger almost collided with your head. Anyway, congratulations. I'm so proud!"
He snorted. "Does tha' mean a get a kiss fer winning?"
She pulled back from him, arching an eyebrow. "You've just won against the Harpies, one of the top five teams in the league, and all you can think about is me giving you a kiss? Something you get from me every day?"
"Aye, a don' need a trophy when a've got ye at home."
"Oh, so I'm a victory prize?"
"Damsel, yer so much more than tha'," he muttered, lowering his head and pressing his mouth against hers, stealing her breath and senses with a dizzying kiss that left her lightheaded and wondering when the hell he'd backed her up and sat her on the examination table.
"Yer coming oot tae celebrate with us, right? Yer every bit a member af the team as anyone."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Oliver," she sighed.
"Anno what happened last time was... Well, ye know, but ye won't be alone. Ye'll have mae an' the team, they're more protective af ye than yer da is."
Hermione snorted, knowing it was true. Merlin forbid she sneezed.
"That's not what I was referring to. I meant, I don't think it's a good idea for us to go out together, not yet at least. No one knows about us yet which means they'll think we're both single."
"An' what? Ye don' trust mae?"
"No, I didn't say that. I don't trust them. Do you think you can control your anger or jealousy if a guy were to hit on me?" She asked, seeing his brow furrow. "Yeah, exactly, and to be honest, I don't know how I'd react if the roles were reversed. And if any of the team see our reactions, they'll put two and two together..."
"An' our cover will be blown," he finished with a nod. "But is tha' really such a bad thing?"
"We both agreed..."
"Anno," he interrupted. "We did, an' a've loved havin' ye all tae meself, but am gettin' tired af hiding. Am not sayin' we have tae go public by shoutin' from the rooftops, a jus' want tae be able tae kiss me girlfriend whenever a feel like it. Am gettin' tired af havin' tae hide our relationship when we're at the stadium. The others already suspect somethin', anno they do, especially since Merlin's always following mae 'round the place an' he listen tae mae more than he does anyone else. A bet tha' even if we were tae go oot tagether, given hoo crowded the Alley is at night, especially at the weekend, a don' think anyone would see us an' there's not gunna be reporters oot an' aboot, is there? Damsel, it's been twa months. I think it's time."
"You... You know how long it's been?"
He arched an eyebrow. "Aye, twa months exactly taday."
He found himself surprised when Hermione's mouth latched onto him, his head going fuzzy as she stole the oxygen from his lungs and when she finally released his mouth and pulled back, he blinked slowly at finding himself laid on the examination with Hermione straddling his stomach, staring down at him. When the hell did that happen?
"You want to go public?"
"Maybe not public, but a don' want tae hide anymore. Believe it or not, the public aren't tha' perceptive or observant. Hoo many times have we been oot tagether an' we havnae been seen, cloaks an' hoods regardless? A don' doubt we'd never hear the end af it from the team an' they'd tease mae, ye, they're scared af so they'll leave ye alone..." She snorted. It was true, all she had to do was threaten to place them on a no-fly ban or to stop baking and they'd do anything she wanted. "An' they'd never disrespect our privacy by goin' tae the press or talkin' aboot it tae someone who might spill. It's one af the few rules we have as a team, don' reveal anythin' aboot another's private life, an' it's one we all respect. If it were tae get oot, it wouldn't be 'coz af one af them."
"You really want to do this?"
"Aye, ye don'?"
"I'm not ashamed of you, Oliver. I could never be ashamed of you, I love you too much to ever feel such a thing. Are we ready to deal with the press? They might not get wind of us straight away but when they do, you know what'll happen. Your fans will target me much like Viktor's did and I'm not up to having to defend myself from attacks coming at me from all angles."
"A won't let anyone hurt ye, a promise."
They held gazes for a small moment before Hermione nibbled at her lip and then slowly nodded.
"Give me a couple of weeks, just until we've told Harry and the Weasleys, and then no more hiding. I promise."
"Couple weeks?"
"Yes, they should hear it from me, not see it in the papers. And the fundraiser's set to happen in a couple of weeks. I don't want to take attention away from something so important should word about us get out. What d'you think would be front-page news? A fundraiser for an orphanage, or Star Quidditch Player and Captain, Oliver Wood dating War Heroine, Brains of the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger."
"A see yer point, the kids deserve better than tha'. Alright, we'll wait till after the fundraiser an' yer've told the others, but then naw more hiding. Deal?"
"Deal," she nodded.
A knock on the door startled them both and Hermione almost fell to the ground before Oliver's reflexes kicked in and he was able to steady her. He gave her an amused look whilst she scowled at him and climbed off him, stepped back from the table and smoothed out her robes, being glad he'd found the strength to keep his hands from her hair. That was something she wouldn't be able to fix or hide. Oliver sat up and righted his rumpled clothing before giving Hermione a nod and she called for the person on the other side of the door to enter. She'd expected one member of the team to come in search of Oliver eventually, not all of them.
"What's the verdict?" Thompson asked, being the first to step into the room with the others following behind him in a crowd.
"He'll live, just a few dislocated fingers, easy fix," she smiled.
"I thought it was your shoulder that was bothering you," Pallie arched an eyebrow, his mouth twitching as his gaze darted between them, none of them missing the way Hermione's eyes widened a fraction.
"Oh, that was from a previous injury, nothing a little Numbing Cream can't handle. Anyway, congratulations, boys, you played wonderfully this afternoon."
They all seemed to stand taller and puff out proudly as they beamed at her, successfully guiding the attention away from her and to them.
"Thanks," Malloy grinned. "We're gunna jump in the showers and then head out for a few celebratory drinks," he said. Hermione cocked her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. "And by that I mean I'm on pumpkin juice and they're going to get so smashed, they might not make it to practice in the morning," he explained and Hermione snorted when they others nodded in agreement.
"So, Healer Granger, you're coming with us, right? You're just as much a part of this team than anyone. Without you, we wouldn't be fit enough to even get on the pitch let alone win the match," Pallie said.
"Oh, I don't think so, boys, maybe next time."
"You said that last time," Kings noted. "Come on, come out with us, protect us from the fangirls."
"Please," she scoffed. "Like you really want me to scare off the fangirls."
"Only the crazy ones," Wilks piped up and she snorted at him. "Come on, please. I'm dying to see what type of drunk you are."
"I'm not stupid enough to get drunk. A little tipsy or merry, maybe, but never drunk. I know my limit. And I can't, I have to be up early in the morning, I'm going away for a spa weekend with my mother."
"Really? Well, not entirely sure what that is, but you deserve a break, you work too hard," Malloy commented.
"No harder than you," she shrugged.
"Yeah right," he snorted. "I know I'm a pain in the arse, and I know they're a pain in the arse," she gestured around him with his thumb, wincing against the barrage of slaps and punches he received. "Not only do you have to deal with us and Coach Grump, you bake for us near enough every day and attend to your private healer's duties. I don't know how you keep up with it all. Do you ever sleep?"
"Like a baby, thanks for asking. I really don't think I should be out tonight."
"A few drinks won't harm you. Come on, we're proud to have you as part of the team. Let us show you off," Thompson grinned.
"Oh, so I'm a trophy healer, fabulous," she sighed and they sniggered at her.
"Don't be so miserable, let's have some fun. Wood, what do you think?"
All eyes turned to him questioningly and he turned his gaze to Hermione, his mouth twitching into a smirk and she barely stopped herself from glaring at him.
"They're right, Granger, ye should come oot with us fer a bit. Scare the crazies away, have a few drinks, a bit af dancing, it'd be a laugh," he shrugged. "In fact, it's an order."
"Ha! Take that!" Pallie called, looking at her smugly.
She rolled her eyes. "In this room, I have the most authority."
"Regarding health an' well-being, sure, but a've authority over ev'rythin' else," he shrugged.
"Not over me or my personal actions, whether I'm at the stadium or off duty," she pointed out. "But to save you an argument you'll surely lose, I'll agree to one drink."
"Four," Kings countered.
"Two," she narrowed her eyes.
"Three, and then we'll let you leave without argument and be on your merry way, possibly feeling a bit merry depending on your drink of choice," Malloy said.
"You know, Ben, there are such things as non-alcoholic cocktails, right?"
"There is?" He questioned in surprise.
"Yes,"
"Oh, awesome," he grinned. "Well, you get yourself home and spruce yourself up a bit whilst we jump through the showers. We'll meet you back here in half an hour."
"It doesn't take me that long to get ready," she rolled her eyes. "I'll see you in fifteen. Now get out, I just need to check there's no lasting effects from my spell work and I'll give Oliver the all-clear."
"Well, we're planning on the Crimson Lion," Pallie informed her.
"Oh, like that place do you?" Her mouth twitched.
"You kidding! It's the best. You ever been?"
"Yes, a few times," she smiled angelically.
"Then you know what we're talking about."
"Hang on, why d'you have that look on your face?" Thompson asked.
"Look? What look?" She questioned innocently.
"That look," he clarified. "It's suspicious. You know, now that I think about it, since you started working here, we've been getting free or half price drinks at the Lion," he eyed her suspiciously.
"Now that you mention it," Pallie said, his gaze trailing her too innocent smile carefully. "I'm sure I've heard some of the bar staff mention a silent partner, someone who had knowledge of the muggle aspect side of the business."
"And you are a Muggleborn," Wilks jumped in.
"Hang on a damn minute, it's you. Isn't it? You're the silent partner," Kings said, his eyes wide in surprise.
Hermione's smile widened. "Well, I guess the game's up. Yes, I own half of the Crimson Lion, and yes, you get free or half price drinks whenever you stop by 'cause I told the staff you've got the family discount. Now, I'd appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself."
"Yeah, right," Pallie nodded, eyeing her in a way he hadn't before. "Not gunna lie, that's surprised me a bit," he shook his head. "Right then, I aren't half glad I didn't bad-mouth the place right in front of you," he said, snorts and mutters of agreement ringing out.
"Scared of me?" She arched her eyebrow.
"No, terrified," he corrected and she snorted.
"Smart man, now, off you go, I'll see you shortly."
Their eyes remained on her for a little while longer before they each turned and left out the door, closing it behind them. She waited until she could no longer hear their voices or footsteps before turning to Oliver.
"Happy now?" She asked, seeing his pleased smile.
"Aye, very," he nodded. "A mean, this'll be the first time we're seen in public tagether an' whilst we won't be alone, it's still one step closer tae comin' clean 'boot our relationship."
"I mean it when I say I can't stay long. I do have to leave early and even with a Hangover Potion, it'll take a while for it to clear any nausea or headache I might have."
"Anno, when ye leave, a'll stay behind fer a bit an' then make me excuses an' leave, a'll see ye at home."
She nodded. "So, anything, in particular, you want to see me in?"
"What?"
"Well, if I'm going out for a few drinks, I'm certainly not going out to find myself a wizard or impress anyone, so if I dress up, it's for you. So, is there anything you'd like to see me in?"
"A dunno," he frowned thoughtfully.
"What about colour? Midnight blue, maybe? Or perhaps something different, something you haven't seen me in before. Maybe white, or black, or red," she offered.
"Red, definitely red," he said, his eyes trailing her robe covered body, knowing every inch, freckle and scar by memory.
"Red it is," she smiled, stepping closer to press a quick kiss to his mouth and then stepping back. "I'll be back soon."
~000~000~000~
Diagon Alley
"You're staring again," Malloy's voice rose to be heard over the music and Hermione tore her eyes away from Oliver who was stood at the bar ordering the next round of drinks, but he was surrounded by a group of scantily dressed women.
The moment she'd returned to the stadium, she'd been greeted by catcalls and whistles, and comments of how she cleaned up nicely and how lucky there were to have the prettiest witch as their date for the evening. Hermione hadn't been able to stop the blush that spread across her cheeks and when she ducked her head at their teasing of her embarrassment, her eyes had landed on Oliver, his gaze heated and intense and locked on her.
She was sure that her dress was far more conservative than most of the outfits she'd seen women wearing when on a night out, but that didn't seem to bother Oliver, and it wasn't as though it had taken her hours to get ready either. In fact, she'd barely done anything at all and she'd spent most of her time trying to do the zip up in the back of her dress, getting annoyed and eventually resorting to magic. She'd done nothing but have a quick wash and brush her hair, pinning a few strands back from her face with glittery pins. After applying a small amount of mascara and some glittery eyes shadow, she'd slipped on the dress of her choice, transfiguring the colour from black to red.
She'd purposely chosen a long-sleeved dress to hide the slur on her left arm, but the off the shoulder style showed the column of her neck, her collar bones and her shoulders. The neckline hinted at cleavage and the fabric fit to every curve, showing her figure before ending just below her knees, hugging her tightly. The matching silver purse and her favourite strappy heels finished the look.
They'd soon headed to the Crimson Lion, apparating into Diagon Alley and walking the short distance from the apparition point. It was still early, the nightlife just starting to pick up when they reached their destination and despite that, the line to get in had been quite long but that hadn't been a problem. Even if security hadn't of recognised her as their boss and allowed them straight entrance for free, she'd have been able to take them through the staff entrance.
The music, partying and drinking had already been in full swing, the club filled to capacity, reminding Hermione that she and Lee had to find a new premises as soon as possible. They'd headed to one of the VIP booths and all squeezed in, Hermione being placed in the centre of the team, 'to keep the wizards away' they'd told her and she'd rolled her eyes.
The three drinks she'd promised had turned into four, then five, and now she was on cocktail number nine, or at least, she thought she was. She couldn't be sure, her head was starting to get a little fuzzy and knew she should stop soon. She'd danced with most of the team, being well aware of Oliver's eyes on her even from across the dance floor, she'd laughed and drank and had some fun, the team couldn't argue if she decided it was time for her to leave.
"Staring?"
"Yeah, staring,"
"Correction, this is in fact, a glare," Pallie piped up, reaching over and pushing a full cocktail in front of her and prying the empty glass she was gripping tightly from her hand, being afraid it might actually shatter.
"A glare?" She questioned, her eyes narrowing as one of the women placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder and leaned in closer to him. She released a slow breath when he smiled politely and removed her hand from him.
"Yes, a glare. What reason would you have for glaring?" He arched an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a smirk as the rest of the team turned their eyes to her.
"No reason, just watching out for him. I know a galleon digger when I see one, and I know a bitch when I see one," she replied innocently, taking a large sip from her glass and her hand tightening around the stem as a second witch touched Oliver's arm, which he shrugged off. "All they want is their name and face on the front page of the Prophet. You know I look out for you boys, though, I'm not nearly as protective as you are of me."
"We're not protective," Thompson denied.
"No?" She tore her eyes from Oliver and looked to the wizards in the booth. "Then why do you freak out when I'm not at work or I don't give you notice before taking the day off. Why am I sat in the exact middle of you lot? And why have you been glaring at any man that's looked my way? I swear, I thought you were going to hex that wizard that bumped into me on the dance floor."
"Well, we had to stop Wood from knocking out that guy that tried to feel you up," Malloy shrugged, looking as though he were watching for her reaction to the information.
Well, that certainly explained the intense conversation she'd witnessed on the dance floor, at the time she'd been with Kings and Pallie and she hadn't thought Oliver had seen that happen. She was wrong.
"And anyway, you're like a little sister to us."
"Little?" She arched an eyebrow.
"Well, you are the youngest."
"Physically. Emotionally and mentally I'm older than all of you combined," she replied.
"Can't argue with that one," Kings snorted. "So, yeah, we're protective of you, so what?"
She rolled her eyes and they darted back to Oliver, barley holding in a sigh when he shrugged off the rest of the women, collected the tray of drinks and did his best to cross to the booth without spilling anything. The moment he set the tray down, it was empty as everyone retrieved their drinks and another cocktail was pressed into her hand, leaving her with one and a half.
"Here's to physical maturity but emotional and mental immaturity," Pallie said, raising his muggle beer high and glasses of muggle and wizarding alcohol soon joined the toast.
"A missed somethin' dinnae a?" Oliver said, looking about in confusion.
"Nothing important," Malloy waved him off.
"Well, I better be off," Hermione said aloud, making to stand.
Malloy pulled her back down into her seat and pushed her untouched cocktail back in front of her as she was met with protests.
"Yes, I have to be up early and it's getting late. I've already gone over my three drink promise and my head's getting a little fuzzy, the warning to stop before I suffer tomorrow. I've drank, I've danced and I've laughed, now I have to go."
"At least finish your drink, it's paid for and no one else will touch it," Malloy said.
"Yeah, and you haven't danced with everyone," Thompson argued. Hermione wasn't blind to the amused glances that were shared between everyone but her and Oliver. "You haven't danced with Wood yet."
Hermione sighed and her eyes darted to Oliver, seeing his cocked eyebrow and amused expression.
"You dance, Oliver?"
"Fer ye, a'll give it a bash," he shrugged, downing the last of his drink and standing from the table, holding his hand out expectantly.
"Fine, one more dance and then I'm going home. The next couple of rounds are on me, no arguments. Tony, try the cocktail and trust me on this, you'll like it."
She slid the cocktail across the table and over to him before taking Oliver's hand as he helped her step out from the booth and allowed her to lead the way. They'd both felt the eyes watching them, some from the crowd but mostly from the team. She took them right to the centre of the dance floor, losing the eyes of the team.
Dancing with Oliver to the muggle music that played had only been awkward because they both knew to keep some distance between them, to do nothing that hinted at a relationship between them or anything that could later be sold to the press by a member of the crowd. Them being out together wasn't all that suspicious, it was common knowledge she was the private Healer for Puddlemere and close with the team, and she'd danced with every member of the team, so if they remained careful, nothing could be said or taken out of context.
They'd chatted comfortably, mostly about the night and what excuse Oliver would use to leave after her without it being suspicious. They'd danced to a couple of songs before nature called and Hermione took that as her excuse to leave for home. She'd waved her goodbyes to the team, receiving waves and pouts in return, as well as shouts she hadn't been able to hear over the music, and retreated to the bathroom with Oliver's heated stare on her back. Hermione never used the customer toilets, rather the staff one out the back as it allowed her to dodge people asking for autographs, prevented her from being cornered in the bathroom and the staff toilet was much nicer.
After finishing her business, she made a quick pit-stop in her office to check if she had any mail or job applications, something both she and Lee had to approve, when she heard the door open.
"Unless you're a member of staff, you can't be back here and if you are a member of staff, you should knock before entering my private office."
Letting the opened mail fall from her grip and onto her desk, she turned to face the door, a gasp falling from her mouth at the sight of Oliver stood in the doorway. How he'd gotten past security and into the back of the club was beyond her and she didn't care, not with the way his entire body seemed to be wound tightly with need and his eyes stared at her with such intensity, she felt her skin heat and her insides twist and knot.
"Oliver," she breathed out.
The room was dimly lit with only a few candles, some of which blew out when Oliver shut the door and quickly approached her, his arms settling around her, lifting her and sitting her on the edge of her desk, all before speaking.
"They'll get suspicious," she muttered, unable to tear her eyes from him until they fluttered closed as his hands worked the hem of her dress up towards her hips, his calloused fingers tracing over her soft skin teasingly as they danced their way towards her knickers. Black and lacy to match the strapless bra.
"Right now, a don' care. A've been waiting all night tae get me hands on ye, a couldn't wait tae get yer home, a dinnae know ye were stopping in yer office an' there's jus' somethin' aboot the thought af havin' ye here tha' a cannae get it oot af me head. So, unless ye object...?"
"No objections, absolutely no objects," she breathed out as his mouth latched onto her neck.
"An' don' expect tae get any sleep tanight. When we're done here, a'll make me excuses an' meet ye at home, if am not gunna see yer fer a few days, am gunna take advantage af the time we do have tanight."
~000~000~000~
Muggle London – Sunday 28th February 1999
"This was a wonderful idea," Hermione's mothered sighed, lifting her champagne glass to her mouth and taking a hearty sip, damn near downing the entire thing.
Spas it seemed, had no problem serving champagne before eleven o'clock in the morning, and her mother was certainly taking advantage of the fact.
The weekend so far had been relaxing, calm and fun. Saturday morning she'd left bed feeling tired and worn out, Oliver certainly having kept his promise in keeping her awake most of the night. She's showered quickly and had only some toast and a cup of tea, knowing the plan was to stop at one of her mother's favourite cafes for breakfast before they hit the road.
Once Mrs. Wood had floo'd over, a carry on case held in hand, dressed in a comfortable skirt and jumper and with an excited smile on her face, Hermione had grabbed her own things, said her goodbyes to Merlin and placed a kiss to Oliver's cheek as he slept. He didn't move. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion from their activities had him out for the count, she only hoped he was able to get out of bed for training.
Her mother had been waiting for them and they'd barely stepped out of the floo before they were all loaded up in her mother's car. Mrs. Wood had been both nervous but excited, having never been inside one before but her parents had always had high standards and expensive tastes and her mother's current car, they'd bought after returning from Australia. It was big, expensive and comfortable, fit with all of the bells and whistles anyone could wish for. The drive to the cafe hadn't been a long one and after they'd stopped for breakfast they'd picked up a few snacks for the journey.
The drive itself was expected to take no more than a couple of hours but they'd not only hit early morning traffic, but there'd been a couple of accidents on the way, doubling their journey time, something that hadn't seemed to bother Mrs. Wood. They'd arrived at their destination, a lovely rural hotel and spa and checked into their rooms, taking some time to get settled in before attending lunch. After that, their spa trip had begun and they'd spent the day getting massages and mud baths, Mrs. Wood undergoing treatments specifically for those who were undergoing chemotherapy, they'd drank champagne and nibbled on the finger foods and after dinner, they'd lounged about the indoor pool and jacuzzi before heading to bed.
That morning Hermione had been woken by room service bringing her breakfast and she and her travel companions had gathered on the balcony of their conjoined rooms and ate breakfast together as they watched the morning sun reflect on the rippling water of the pond in the distance.
Hermione had enjoyed the weekend very much and she'd enjoyed spending time not only with her mother, something she didn't often have the chance to do, but with Oliver's mother, too.
"Yes, it was," Hermione replied, turning to look at her mother on the lounger to her right whilst Mrs. Wood was to the left. They'd recently undergone facials and had been left alone for a little peace before they were due to receive manicures and pedicure not long before lunch.
"This was somethin' a definitely needed," Mrs. Wood.
"Yes, I can't imagine how stressful a time this is for you," her mother said. "And your last treatment is Tuesday?" She asked, both she and Hermione's father being in the know about her illness.
"Aye, hopefully, it'll be me last an' the doctor will give mae some good news at the next meeting."
"I could come with you, if you'd like," her mother offered. "Richard wouldn't mind me taking a few hours away from the practice, perhaps it'll do you some good to have a girl friend with you."
"A'd appreciate tha', thank ye. Henry had intended tae take some time away from the office but anno he's got a lotta paperwork tae catch up on, but he doesn't want mae goin' alone, an' anno Oliver an' Hermione are busy at the stadium."
"You know we'd happily come with you," Hermione said.
"An' have ye risking the wrath af the big bosses, a wouldn't dream af interrupting yer work schedules. Anno hoo much af a handful those boys can be, a once hosted a dinner with them all in attendance, never again," she said and she and her mother laughed. "A don' know hoo ye manage them ev'ry day withoot wanting tae pull yer hair oot or hex them."
"Oh, believe me, I've threatened them once or twice. I just tell them I'm going to put them on a no-fly ban and they behave," she replied.
"Boys an' their Quidditch," she shook her head with a laugh.
"It's Oliver that's a pain in the arse. He keeps faking injuries so he can speak to me without anyone seeing or getting suspicious."
"Aye, a'm sure tha's all he wants, tae speak tae ye," Mrs. Wood commented, sharing a knowing laugh with her mother as they both watched her blush furiously.
"Whilst we're on the subject of that charming boyfriend of yours," her mother started and Hermione eyed her warily. "I've something important to ask."
"Alright," Hermione replied slowly, cautiously.
"How's your sex life?"
"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed, her face flaming red as she covered it with her hands, hearing the loud laughter of both women. "I can't believe you asked that!"
"Why not? We've always been able to talk about such things, and I just want to make sure you're being treated as you deserve."
"Mum! His mother's right here."
"A'd like an answer tae tha' question as well," Mrs. Wood said.
"Oh, God!" Hermione choked.
"He might be me son, me baby boy, but yer the closest thing tae a daughter a've had. A was never able tae have conversations like this with me parents, an' am hopin' ye'd feel comfortable enough have these discussions with mae. Jus' don' go intae tae much detail."
"So, Hermione, answer the question."
"Please!"
"No, answer it."
Hermione released a choked sigh and reluctantly lowered her hands to uncover her face when her other reached out to tug at them, them both laughing at the sheer redness of her skin.
"I know you're responsible and we've already had the talk when you were younger, but I never asked. Have you had sex?"
"Yes," she admitted. If it were possible, her face would've flamed redder.
"And was Ron your first? I know you were together for a little while. Or was it Viktor? I know you were only young, but I also know what teenagers get up to without supervision."
"No, it wasn't Ron or Viktor."
"A boyfriend we don't know about?"
"No," she shook her head.
"So, Oliver was your first?"
"Oliver..." Hermione hesitated for a moment, but it was a moment too long and they both noticed. "Oliver was my first."
Her mother narrowed her eyes and rose to a sitting position, putting her almost empty glass of champagne off to the side and turning to face her, planting her feet against the floor and readjusting her white fluffy robe.
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You've always been a terrible liar, you got that from your father."
"Why would I lie to you?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm and fighting back the panic.
"You tell me. You say Oliver was your first but you paused, hesitated. You're lying, why?"
"Merlin," Mrs. Wood gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Hermione and her mother both looked to her. Her eyes had widened and tears threatened to spill. "When we first met, ye said Oliver saved ye," she said quietly.
Hermione heard a second gasp and turned to look at her mother, seeing her wide and horrified expression, tears swimming and threatening to fall.
"Oh God, you said he saved you," she whispered. "That he found you and took you home. You... You had a stalker..." She stumbled over the words, everything slotting into place. "Did he..." She couldn't finish her question.
Nausea filled Hermione's stomach and bile rose in the back of her throat, her head started spinning and she looked down at her lap, pulling her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs tightly. She buried her face against her knees and tears fell, soft cries sounding from her.
"My goodness, my baby, my poor baby," her mother choked.
Arms had soon encircled her and she pulled against her mother's body as she perched on the side of Hermione's lounger, and then a second pair of arms held her, one hand pressed against her back and rubbing circles and the other gripping her tightly clenched fists, squeezing softly.
She didn't know how long passed but with the comforting presence and in the arms of two mothers, Hermione found herself calming and her soft cries stopping and she found the courage to lift her face from her knees, seeing the saddened, horrified and angered expressions of the two women.
"What happened? Don't lie to me, tell me everything," her mother said softly, removing one arm from around her to wipe away her own tears before holding her firmly once more.
Hermione couldn't look at either of them and she turned her gaze forward, looking to the quiet, calm pond in the distance.
"I don't remember much," she started. "I remember leaving the club with Merlin and then I was surrounded. There were three of them. I tried to fight but couldn't, they were too strong, too fast. I remember being groped and touched but then everything goes black and I remember nothing except waking up, safe at Oliver's with Thomas and Merlin. From what we've been able to gather, two of them..." She hesitated and then shook her head, "And the other held me down, helped them." She felt both of them tighten their hold on her. "But I honestly don't remember any of the attack; not only did they use a Memory Charm on me, but I was passed out during the act. I know it happened but it's almost as if it didn't because I can't remember it. Two of them were found dead and the other's in prison."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her mother asked softly.
"I didn't want anyone to know," Hermione answered quietly. "There was nothing you or I could've done about it. And Oliver, he's been so good to me. He let me stay with him, he took care of me, he carried me around when I couldn't walk due to a leg injury despite the fact I told him I was fine. And when I had to move again, he invited me into his home, he kept my secret, he kept me safe. He was my friend, my confidante, someone I could trust. For a while, he was the only person I could stand to touch me without flinching. He accompanied me when I went out in public and when I had panic attacks or flashbacks, he comforted me, took care of me. He was with me every step of the way and he never asked for anything in return. When we were told the news of it all being over, he insisted that I stay with him and not find another flat or place to live. During all of this, I'd realised that I was falling for him but I convinced myself he didn't feel the same way, and when I found out he did... I just... I don't know, as bad as it sounds, I'm almost grateful it happened. Without it, Oliver and I would've never been brought together, I would've never fallen in love with him. Please don't tell anyone, no one else knows but Oliver, Thomas and Kingsley. Please, don't tell dad."
"Hermione, I have to, I don't keep secrets from him," her mother replied.
"This isn't your secret, this is mine," Hermione turned her eyes to her. "What d'you think he'll do? He'll shout and yell, he'll get angry and break things, he'll demand that I move home and I leave the Wizarding World, leave everything behind. I'd be no safer here than I would there. There are evil people in both worlds, one with magic, one without. There's nothing he can do. It's all over, it's all been taken care of and I've put it behind me. I've got Oliver and I'm happy and I don't let what happened to me define me or my life. Don't tell him."
They held gazes for a moment before her mother slowly nodded. "Okay, I won't tell him."
Hermione released a sigh and turned to look at Mrs. Wood, seeing a soft, comforting smile on her face as she reached up and pushed Hermione's wild curls out of her face and behind her ear in a motherly gesture.
"Oliver, I love him. I truly do."
"Anno, Dear," she said softly.
Hermione's gaze turned forward. "As for your question, Oliver and I, yes, we do have sex, and as far as we're both concerned, he was my first, no one else. I don't have flashbacks or panic attacks, he's always gentle with me and he always takes care of me first. When we first slept together, I had to convince him that I was fine and I wanted it to happen. He was fine with just stopping and having a cuddle, it was both incredibly sweet and thoughtful, but downright annoying given the situation." They both chuckled softly. "He is everything to me and I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else," she ended with a soft sigh.
"Are you ladies ready for some pampering?" The pretty blonde spoke, stepping out onto the balcony.
"Aye, we sure are, definitely in need af it," Mrs. Wood smiled at the young woman.
"If you'd just follow me through to the next room, we have everything waiting for you."
She turned and exited and Hermione and her companions all stood and followed after her, but not before her mother finished the last of her champagne. Thankfully, Hermione had thought ahead and brought some Hangover and Sobriety Potions along with her just in case.
"So, you have a healthy sex life?" Her mother asked.
"Mum!"
"Answer the question, Dear. No one wants to be stuck in a relationship were they're unsatisfied."
Hermione sighed. "Yes, Mum."
"How many times a week, would you say?"
"God, Mum! Are you training to be a sex therapist?"
"Now there's an idea," she mused.
"Mum!"
She and Mrs. Wood shared a laughed.
"Answer ye ma's question," Mrs. Wood laughed.
"I don't know," she blushed. "I don't count."
"You don't count because you don't see the point in such things, or you don't count because you can't keep up?" Hermione's blush darkened. "Really?" Her mother's mouth pulled into a smirk. "Now things are getting interesting. And orgasms? I assume he's able to bring you to that point since you said he always takes care of you first."
"Yes, Mum," she muttered, mortified.
"Excellent. A healthy and satisfying sex life is nothing to be embarrassed about."
"She's right, Dear," Mrs. Wood agreed.
"You never did answer my question, how many times a week on average would you say you have sex? And do you always orgasm?"
"For Merlin's Sake," Hermione choked, speeding up in her steps until she was ahead of the laughing women.
She stepped into the room, accepted a glass of champagne from one of the beauticians and downed it in one. She received a surprised look from the older blonde as she placed the empty glass back on the tray and then took the first of the three chairs in the room.
Her companions entered after her, accepting the final two glasses of champagne and then they took their seats, her mother sitting in the centre with Mrs. Wood on the left and closest to the door. The blonde moved to take the chair opposite her whilst two brunettes who looked a little older than her, took the chairs opposite her companions, silently taking their right hands and making a start on their manicures.
"Hermione, this will all be over as soon as you answer my questions. How often do you and Oliver have sex, and do you always orgasm?"
Hermione couldn't have blushed redder if she tried. The blonde opposite her, her name tag reading 'Lucy', lifted her head, her green eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Mum!"
"Answer the questions," Mrs. Wood smiled.
"But this is your son we're talking about."
"Anno, be vague."
The beautician looked between Hermione, her mother and Mrs. Wood before she released Hermione's hand, stood from her chair and moved away from the small table separating them. She disappeared into a small cupboard and when she returned, she had a glass and a bottle of newly opened champagne. She poured a generous amount into the glass before handing it to Hermione. Hermione downed the contents quickly, only to find her glass once more refilled.
Hermione believed she'd found a new best friend in the beautician as she left the bottle of champagne within reach and then retook her seat, retaking Hermione's right hand and continuing where she left off.
"I don't know how many times a week we have sex. Sometimes we do it several times a day, sometimes we don't do it at all, it just depends on how tired we are or how busy we've been at work. You're forgetting, we both work six days a week, and Oliver's training schedule's intense. And when I'm not at the stadium, patching up the boys, I'm either tending to my other private patients, working with Lee on expanding the club, I'm visiting you or I'm at the orphanage."
"And orgasms?"
"Give me a break," Hermione grumbled, taking another generous sip from her glass. If she kept going at the rate she was, she'd be drunk before she got home that night. She'd decided against a Sobriety Potion for herself, not wanting to remember any of this conversation. "I don't know, always more than one."
"Every time?"
"Yes, every time...Oliver's, let's just say, talented."
"Hmmm, I remember when I was younger, when your father and I were like that," she said fondly.
"Mum!"
"An' mae an' me Henry," Mrs. Wood sighed.
"Mrs. Wood!" Hermione said scandalised.
"Dear, hoo many times do a have tae tell ye? Call mae Beth. Yer gunna be me daughter-in-law, we may as well get comfortable with it fer now an' then maybe in the future, ye might even call me ma," she smiled.
"Daughter-in-law?" Her face would've reddened further if it were possible.
"Af course, Dear," she tipped her head and smiled, sharing a not so conspicuous glance with her mother. "Ye said ye couldn't see a life withoot Oliver, so someday ye'll marry him, making ye me daughter-in-law. A've always wanted a daughter. An' anno Oliver wants tae someday marry ye."
Hermione's heart stopped. "He... He does?" She whispered.
"Aye, he hasnae said it ootright," she lied, sharing a knowing look with Hermione's mother, "But anno me baby boy, an' anno he's never looked at a woman the way he looks at ye, anno he's never loved a woman the way he loves ye. So a wouldn't be surprised if he pops the question in the next couple af years."
"Assuming we'll still be together," Hermione replied, trying to stop her racing heart at the thought of Oliver getting down on one knee and proposing with a ring he'd spent hours agonising over. Merlin, did she want that! She wanted that with all of her heart!
When picturing her future, Oliver was it. Her best friend and protector. Her lover and confident. Her husband and the father of her children. They'd be covered in flour and flying brooms and playing the piano and running about playing fetch with Merlin, laughing loudly and making a mess.
"Ye will," she replied without a hint of doubt.
"Oh, I can't wait. I'm so happy. My little girl's found a man that treats her well, adores her, spoils her rotten and gives her multiple orgasms! I can't wait to rub this in your Aunt's faces. I'm getting the perfect son-in-law."
"Mum!"
"Relax, Dear, I'm sure you've got a couple of years to wait. Now, back on topic, sex positions? Have you figured out which ones are most comfortable and enjoyable for you?"
"Mum!"
Hermione looked to her beautician, Lucy, seeing her wide but amused eyes.
"Help me," Hermione mouthed silently.
The blonde simply shook her head and silently laughed before reaching for the champagne bottle and topping up Hermione's glass. They still had the pedicure, lunch, the hair salon and the makeover left before they even thought about leaving for home. Hermione was sure by that time, she'd be stumbling into the manor. There was no way in hell she wanted to remember that conversation.
~000~000~000~
Wood Estate
The moment Hermione stepped out of the floo, she was greeted by an excited overly-large dog and she laughed, dropping to her knees to hug the large bear of a dog as he licked at her face and neck.
She'd had several more glasses of champagne before lunch had even been served. She didn't think her mother could get any more intrusive and embarrassing, she'd been wrong. Very wrong. But she'd since had food and time to sober up a little and she was thankful the trip back had seen them without any disruptions or incidences. Oliver's mother had enjoyed her weekend away and that was all she and her mother had intended, plus, they'd promised to do it again in the future.
When she heard footsteps, she released Merlin and rose to full height, beaming the moment Oliver stepped into view. He blinked in surprise at her done-up appearance before a smile pulled at his mouth and she was quick to approach and hug him tightly.
"God, I missed you."
"A missed ye, tae. Hoo was yer weekend? Ye have fun?"
"For the most part," she said, not wishing to explain the details of the highly embarrassing conversations she'd been forced to have with their mothers. "And you? Was the fishing trip alright?"
"Dinnae go," Oliver shrugged and Hermione pulled back from him.
"Why not?"
"Yer da had tae cancel last minute, somethin' tae do with an emergency root somethin'." She rolled her eyes. "He's gonna reschedule it with me da. But a must say, ye look beautiful."
He catalogued her subtle but professionally applied makeup and her wild curls pulled back in a pretty and elegant updo, something he knew she must've cast charms over to keep in place. Her hair rarely stayed in a ponytail for more than ten minutes before curls were springing free, something that annoyed her but he found amusing.
"Well, seeing as I've been all dolled up by the beauticians at the spa, it seems a shame to let it go to waste. Do you fancy going out for dinner this evening?"
He smiled. "Where would ye like tae go?"
"Can we go tae Amour again? Or is it too short notice?"
His smile widened. "They always keep a table spare fer the owners, besides, it's good tae keep them on their toes. Turning up ev'ry once in a while withoot notice often sets them on edge an' they run aboot the place like headless hippogriffs, it's funny."
She laughed and shook her head. "So, what do you want to see me in tonight?"
His eyes trailed her face and then fell lower to her body, looking thoughtful.
"Black."
"And red underwear, got it," she said knowingly, seeing his eyes grow intense. "Are we thinking something a bit more on the conservative side of things or maybe a little bit more revealing but still elegant?"
He bit his lip in thought. Both had its merits. On one hand, he could see what her dress revealed, on the other, her dress fit to her frame and hinted at what was beneath, something he already knew by memory.
"Somewhere in the middle?"
"As you wish," her mouth twitched. "I won't be long. I'll get ready in my old room, keep it a surprise."
She reached up and pressed a kiss to his mouth before turning and leaving down the corridor. Oliver had never showered or dressed quicker in his life and when he'd made it back to the living room in his dress shoes and black tux, he'd barely poured himself a tumbler of fire whiskey when Hermione's heels echoed against the marble flooring.
He turned to watch her approach, his eyes greedily taking in the sight she made. She wore a dress similar to the one she'd worn on their night out with the team, only this one had a slightly lower neckline showing a bit more cleavage and the dress fell to the ground, only when she spun to show him all of her, the dress dipped low, very low in the back, it stopping at the small of her back and there was a slit in the right side of the dress, stopping a few inches from her hip.
God was she stunning!
Seeing her wearing no jewellery but a pair of diamond-studded earrings, he reminded himself to at some point buy her a matching necklace and bracelet set. It'd be hell to get her to accept it, but he wouldn't give up.
"So?" She questioned.
"Speechless," he muttered, unable to tear his eyes from her.
Her grin was something sinful.
"Then we better get going. We can't have dessert until we've had the main and a little wine. And I know exactly what I'm having for dessert, do you?"
Oliver honestly didn't know how he found the strength to leave the manor without ravishing her first, but he thought he deserved a bloody medal.
~000~000~000~
Muggle London - Thursday 4th March 1999
"I have both good news and depending on your outlook, potentially bad news."
Oliver felt Hermione's hand grip his tighter, whilst Hermione felt Mrs. Wood's hand grip hers a little tighter. As they sat before Dr. Clay's desk, she and Oliver's mother were sat in the centre with Oliver and his father taking the outer sides.
She and Oliver had both left the stadium early in order to be at the meeting, and it was something Coach Burton was happy to allow given the circumstances. As it was, they'd left only an hour before training was due to be over for the evening, so it wasn't as though he was missing much.
"Good news first, please," Hermione spoke, being the first one in the room to find her voice.
"Well, the mass surrounding the lungs has reduced."
"And the bad news?" She was almost afraid to ask.
"If you were to agree, I'd recommend scheduling you in for surgery."
The room fell silent, all of them taking in his exact words. Surgery. Surgery was possible and that meant they were one step closer to getting his mother back on track and possibly healed for good.
"Why is tha' bad news?" Mr. Wood frowned.
"That depends on the way you look at it. I've already gotten a second opinion and they agree that surgery is an option, however, like any operation, there are risks. Surgery may result in damage to the lungs, possible lung failure, burst blood vessels and spread of infection. In surgery, we'll remove as much of the mass as possible and it is likely and common that we may remove a part of the affected lung. Recovery periods can vary but with magical treatments, I'm sure you'll heal quite nicely. After surgery, we'll bring you in for more scans and go from there. Most require another chemotherapy session to destroy the remainder of the cancerous cells. Whether or not you agree to the surgery, is entirely your decision."
Mrs. Wood didn't take any time to think of her decision, even with his warnings.
"A wanna try the surgery," she said. "It's better tae take the risk an' try than not try at all. An' yer comfortable with the size af the mass reduction?"
"Yes, I'm hopeful," he smiled. "If that's your final decision, I'll just need you to sign a few forms and I'll have you booked in for surgery as soon as possible. I'll give you some leaflets with more information regarding the process, the potential risks and what to expect afterwards to take home with you."
Whilst he handed her the forms that needed signing, he collected the leaflets and handed them to Mr. Wood before stepping out of the room.
"A cannae believe it," Oliver muttered, looking to her in surprise.
"Your mum's a fighter, Oliver. She can beat this, I know she can," Hermione smiled, turning in her chair to pull him into a hug, pulling back from him when Dr. Clay re-entered and took his seat behind his desk.
"Seeing as we're going down the route of private care over the NHS, which is understandable given your background, I've spoken with a friend of mine who owns his own practice and he's willing to allow me to use one of his ORs, and he's an expert in this field and will be joining me in surgery. You'll have the best care and treatment possible."
"Has a date already been set or should I call in a few days?" Hermione asked.
"There's an opening next week."
"Really, so soon?" She questioned in surprise.
"There was a cancellation, and if you would like it, it's yours."
"A'll take it," Mrs. Wood nodded, a steely look of determination entering her eyes.
"I'll let Dr. Brett know to schedule you in. The operation will be scheduled for four o'clock on Wednesday afternoon, but you will be expected to arrive three hours before so you can be prepped for surgery. As a precaution, you'll be nil by mouth."
"It means you can't eat or drink anything twenty-four hours before the surgery," Hermione explained, seeing the confused expressions of the three Purebloods. "It's just in case you have a bad reaction in surgery and you vomit. Nothing to worry about."
Dr. Clay nodded to her in thanks before turning back to his patient. "I'll be sending over your files for Dr. Brett to review so he may familiarise himself with your case. We'll have to be cautious with the medication we administer as we're unaware of any allergies you may have to such muggle medicines. Dr. Brett is a muggle and is unaware of magic so you'll have to be cautious. He's one of the best surgeons in the country and you're in good hands, I assure you. You'll have the chance to meet him on the day of the surgery. You'll find a list of everything you need to bring with you included with the information pack I've made up for you."
"Thank you, Dr. Clay," Hermione said, sharing a hopeful glance with the others.
~000~000~000~
Wood Estate
"Keep goin', a can hold back until yer ready," he groaned, the arm holding him up shaking and his other hand gripped at hip tightly.
"Don't you dare," she panted, "I won fair and square. I chose to give, not to take."
"Yer gunna be the death af mae," he muttered.
His hand slipped a little on the plastic mat beneath him and his upper body ached at the act of trying to keep himself upright whilst in a leaning position. He'd be aching in the morning.
After leaving Dr. Clay's office, he, Hermione and his parents had gone for dinner at one of Hermione's favourite muggle restaurants that she used to visit with her parents when he was younger. Afterwards, they'd gone their separate ways and returned home. They'd both greeted Merlin when he bounded over to them excitedly and once he'd calmed and turned his attention to destroying one of his newly bought toys, they'd both changed their clothes into something a little more comfortable and then convened in the living room, Hermione with her arms laden with a pile of new muggle games he'd yet to see or play.
They'd played a few card games before swapping to playing Twister. The first time had been an introduction, giving Oliver a chance to understand the game and get a feel for it. After that, Hermione had instigated a rule, a prize for the winner, something to make it more interesting.
And that was how he found himself with Hermione straddling him, her hands running through and tugging at his hair as she kissed the life out of him, her hips rocking against his. There wasn't much separating them. Hermione had already peeled Oliver out of his t-shirt which lay forgotten on the ground somewhere, and this left him in only his underwear and grey tracksuit bottoms, whilst Hermione was only clad in a white spaghetti strap top and a pair of pink cotton shorts that barely covered her arse. Not that he was complaining.
Hermione had won the game and as the winner, she had the choice of giving him an orgasm, or, of him giving her one. She'd chosen the former and was doing everything in her power to kill him, he was sure of it.
Her hand smoothed down his stomach and came to rest at his waistband and her mouth tore from his, latching onto his neck. He was so tightly wound that by the time her hand slipped beneath his clothing, she barely had to touch him to bring him over the edge.
"Next time, we should do this withoot clothing," he suggested, working to get his breathing back under control and with the way Hermione's fingers were dancing the length of his neck, he knew she'd left a love bite.
She snorted. "I'm smaller and more agile than you, I'm all but certain to win every time, so you'll be the one without clothing whilst I'm fully clothed..." She paused for a moment, thoughtful. "You know what, next time, strip-twister it is," she nodded and he snorted at her.
"Well, it's yer turn," he grinned, his hand moving to the waistband of her shorts but she stopped his movement with her own. "Ye know a don' like leaving ye unsatisfied."
"Trust me, Oliver, I'm very satisfied right now," she smiled smugly. "But if you want to return the favour, you have to win the next game."
"A'd rather jus' have ye here an' now," he replied, lowering her onto her back and then manoeuvring on top of her, her legs folding around him as he settled in the cradle of her thighs.
"I'm almost tempted, but I'm quite enjoying myself."
"Yer jus' wanna win the game," he snorted. "Yer the most competitive person a've ev'r met."
"Coming from you, that's rich."
"We're both as bad as each other," he admitted. "So, are ye gunna let mae ravish the hell oot af ye?"
She rolled them until she was straddling him once more and he pushed himself into a sitting position.
"Only if you win the next game. Hide and seek. You have ten minutes to find me or I win."
"It takes tha' bloody long tae walk from one end af the manor tae the other," he argued.
She snorted. "Don't be so dramatic. Fine, twenty minutes and I'll stay inside the manor. If you want me, you have to find me because we both know which option I'll choose if I win again." She pressed a lingering, heated kiss to his mouth that had him groaning when she pulled back from him. "Count to thirty and come and find me, and don't you dare cheat."
She climbed from his lap and batted his hands away when he tried to pull her back down to him. He fell onto his back, breathing a slow sigh before rubbing a hand over his face and then covering his eyes, loudly counting to thirty.
Not want to double back on himself, he started with that floor of the manor first, quickly their bedroom before moving onto the guest rooms and the bathrooms. He did a quick scan of the living room, knowing she wouldn't be there and then headed into the kitchen. He couldn't have had much time left and headed to the floor below, keeping an eye out for Merlin whilst also searching for Hermione. Chances were, Merlin would give away Hermione's hiding position. He knew she wouldn't go anywhere near the swimming pool after what happened the last time but he searched it anyway before trying the library. She wasn't in there either. He searched the piano room, the parlour, the vacated rooms and the formal living room, kitchen and dining room. That was everywhere in the manor and she was nowhere to be seen.
He scowled in annoyance, knowing that his time was running out and he hadn't seen or heard Merlin either. He heard a noise, the sound of something being knocked over and it clattered to the ground. His mouth tugged into a smirk. It had to be either Hermione or Merlin, either way, he could find her.
He all but ran towards the source of the noise, almost falling over when he halted to a sudden stop before the grand staircase, and opposite, stood by the open front door, were each and every one of his teammates.
Shit!
"Wood?" Pallie questioned, eyeing him curiously and his expression was matched by the others.
Oliver understood why. Whilst it wouldn't be strange he was walking around shirtless, the fact he was sporting a newly formed love bite on show and his hair had clearly been tousled, was. They knew Oliver valued his privacy and never brought a girl home with him, so even if he had recently had a one night stand they didn't know about, that didn't account for the current messy hair.
"What... What are ye doin' here?" He asked, straightening his stance and his eyes darted down both corridors, wondering where the hell Hermione was.
"I tried floo calling but you didn't answer. We know your mother had her meeting with the muggle doctor and we wanted to hear how it went, and we wanted to see if you wanted to come out for a few drinks," Thompson explained. "We knocked but no one answered."
He'd given Bobby the evening off, sent him away to do whatever it was house-elves did when they were off duty.
Oliver opened his mouth, about to give an excuse and get them to leave as quickly as possible, only the sound of barking echoed through the manor and he silently cursed.
"Hang on," Malloy frowned, "Is it me or does that sound like..." He didn't finish as Merlin soon came bounding down the corridor and out from the parlour, a toy held in his teeth before he skidded to a stop on the marble flooring.
He dropped the toy in favour of barking loudly and jumping up at Kings in greeting.
"Why's Merlin here?" Malloy asked confused. "You dog sitting or something?"
"But why would Hermione ask him over one of us?" Pallie pointed out.
Once again, Oliver's mouth opened to respond, only he was interrupted again by the sound of laughter.
"Your time is well and truly up!" Hermione's voice carried. Oliver's eyes closed briefly before opening once more, seeing the surprised expressions of his teammates. "You've had way more than twenty minutes. You know what that means. I win!"
Hermione appeared, skipping joyfully down the corridor. Damn it! That's why he hadn't been able to find her; she'd cheated and used a Disillusionment Charm.
"Two in a row, I'm on a roll. Well, I accept my prize as the winner and choose to give, not take."
It wasn't until she stepped out of the cover of the corridor and into the open of the foyer that she froze, her eyes darting between each member of the team.
Oliver had thought they'd been surprised to hear her, only it was nothing compared to their surprise at seeing her. He genuinely thought their eyes were going to fall out of their head, their jaws hit the floor and Pallie even swayed on his feet as though he were going to faint.
There was no explaining this away as their eyes catalogued Hermione's appearance. Her messier than usual hair, still slightly swollen mouth, the love bite he'd left on her collar bone a few nights before, the nightwear of her skimpy top and shorts that barely covered her arse and showed her long legs, and her bare feet and prettily painted toenails which matched her fingernails.
Their gazes swung between her and him, once, twice, three times.
"I KNEW IT!"