CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Summary: Hermione suffers a terrible attack and who should find her but one of Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelors. The relationship that builds between them is one no one saw coming, but no one predicted the danger that would surely follow. Post-War. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events or characters, they belong to J.K Rowling. I am not making a profit from this fanfic, everything is purely for entertainment purposes.
AN
Welcome back to another case of 'This chapter wasn't meant to be so long but I don't want to split it into two, not only because I'm lazy, but to make it up to you for having to wait so long to see the outcome of the previous cliff hanger.'
I say this every time but I always mean it, you guys are the best! And I adore your support and comments, you are what keeps me motivated and wanting to continue writing and posting stories.
Spoiler alert! I've got two new ones in the works. A Dark!Hermione x Tom and another Hermione x Twilight. I've the plot worked out but unsure on the character pairing, possibly Paul? I love writing his character, what do you think? I won't be posting these until they're either complete or mostly complete, so I can just spam your e-mail again.
Here's the moment you've been patiently waiting for. Well, one of them, at least.
I hope you're all being safe and taking care of yourselves during these strange and dangerous times.
Q&A
So glad you enjoyed the invasive and embarrassing sex conversation between Hermione and the mothers. I included it not only because of the comedic value it offers, but I can relate. Whilst it's not my mum that's like that, it's my Grandmother. I don't know which is worse. I never know if I should laugh, cry or dart out of the room.
Starlite22 – If you reread the sections regarding Jean and Beth's talk, you'll see that her last treatment was scheduled for Tuesday. Hermione and Oliver attended the meeting with the doctor the following Thursday. As for the drinking, I did make mention of Hermione taking Sobering and Hangover Potions with her more than once, which is how she'd have been safe to drive. The chapter was so long because I didn't want to split it and couldn't find the right place to do so without breaking up the flow, just as I've done for this one.
Burungmalam – That would've been awkward.
Lia – Oh, how I wish I could answer your questions without revealing what's to come, so you'll have to read on and continue to keep watch.
Marauder28579 – Thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far and I hope I continue to do it justice.
Poppet92 – Thank you, that means a lot. I love writing Oliver and Hermione pairings, there's just something soothing and fun about it. I'm glad you're enjoying this and I hope I continue to live up to the standards I've set myself.
Page count: 28
Wood Estate - Thursday 4th March 1999
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze darting between him and his gathered teammates, half of them looking to be too surprised to react and the other half deliberately trailed their eyes over her half-dressed form appreciatively.
Oliver's eyes narrowed into a glare and passiveness shot through and before he knew it, Oliver's discarded t-shirt was gripped in his hand. Hermione's mouth parted, her expression morphing from surprise at being caught into an impressed stare at the action.
"Did you just do that wandlessly and non-verbally?" She breathed out, her heated eyes locking with his.
The slight huskiness in her tone was one he knew well; his display of non-verbal and wandless magic had turned her on, something that he hadn't intended and if he were honest, he hadn't even realised he'd done it. He just wanted something to give her so she could cover herself up. And if they were anywhere else and not currently in the situation they were in, he wouldn't have hesitated to sweep her off her feet and carry her to their bedroom. As it was, things were very tense and awkward in the foyer.
He didn't reply with words, merely held his t-shirt out towards her, his gaze darting to his slowly recovering teammates and Hermione silently crossed over to him, taking his t-shirt and slipping it on, it falling to her mid-thigh and covering her from their eyes a little better. Once she'd pulled her hair from beneath the collar and it hung down her back, Oliver slung his arm over her shoulders and tugged her into his side.
"Boys, what are you doing here?" Hermione cleared her throat, a blush settling on her cheeks as they silently stared between them, slowly blinking before matching smirks curved at their lips.
"We could ask you the same thing, Hermione," Pallie's eyebrow arched.
"So, how long's this been going on?" Thompson asked, folding his arms over his chest amusedly, watching as Merlin picked up his toy and trotted over to them, taking a seat by Oliver's feet.
"Err... Well..." She nibbled at her lip anxiously, her gaze darting up to Oliver as he looked down at her, a silent conversation passing between them. "There's no getting out of this is there?" She asked him quietly.
"Naw, there isnae," he confirmed. "It's time."
Hermione sighed, reaching up to push a fallen curl out of her face and over her shoulder before she nodded and then she silently pulled away from Oliver and headed for the grand staircase, Oliver and Merlin following her and the rest of the team catching on that they were supposed to follow, too.
When they entered the living room, Oliver took a seat on one of the couches with Merlin climbing up beside him, partially draped over his lap as he chewed on his toy, the rest of the team all took a seat on the couch opposite, it being large enough to fit them all with room to spare and Hermione paused at the bar. She poured a measure of fire whiskey into a tumbler for Oliver and poured herself a glass of elf wine, Oliver having stocked the bar with her favourite brand. With the fire whiskey and glass of wine in hand, she crossed over to them, Oliver taking the tumbler from her with a smile before he reached out with his other hand and tugged her to sit beside him, Hermione pulling her feet up onto the couch and tucking herself into his side.
The six athletes opposite watched them with silent curiosity, their eyes darting between them, the muggle board games piled on the table and the Twister mat and board that was still on the floor off to the right. Oliver observed them as he took a healthy swig from his tumbler and Hermione sipped at her wine, absentmindedly running her hand through the fur on Merlin's head after he'd climbed over Oliver's lap until his head was able to lay on Hermione's folded legs whilst his body was sprawled across him.
Malloy cleared his throat. "So, I think you two have some explaining to do."
"Do we?" Oliver arched a challenging eyebrow.
"Yes," the team chorused as one and it was, admittedly, a little frightening.
"How long have you been together?"
"Technically or officially?" Oliver checked.
"Officially," clarified Bishop.
"A while," Oliver shrugged.
"Technically?" He added.
"A while," Oliver repeated vaguely, his mouth tugging into a smile at their far from pleased glances.
"That's not an answer," Pallie frowned.
"It's the only answer yer gettin'."
"Why does it matter how long we've been together?" Hermione asked them, sipping from her wine. "All that matters is that we are."
"We've had suspicions that he's had a secret girlfriend for months," Kings injected. "And when you started working at the stadium, his behaviour changed. He seemed to get injured more than usual. He was always defensive when you were mentioned. Taking days off! His behaviour at the club... We theorised that you were his secret girlfriend but I don't think any of us actually believed it."
Hermione sighed and lifted her hand from Merlin's head to smack at Oliver's chest. "I told you they'd noticed you were faking injuries. You weren't as subtle as you thought you were."
"You faked injuries," Pallie's rose slightly in disbelief.
Oliver shrugged his shoulders. "It was the only way tae see her withoot a'body gettin' suspicious."
"Well, the jig's up now so you'll have to stop doing that," Hermione rolled his eyes. Oliver didn't look to be in agreement with her.
"How serious are you?" Thompson asked, tipping his head slightly.
"Why?" Hermione and Oliver chorused.
Thompson shrugged. "Just so we know where we stand with you."
"Excuse me?" She arched an eyebrow.
"Shove aff," Oliver glared at them, something passing between the two men that Hermione didn't understand. "Ye wanna know hoo serious we are? She lives with mae."
Some of them spluttered and some of them choked.
"Bloody hell," Malloy wheezed, patting himself on the chest as his eyes watered. "Give a guy some warning before you spring something like that on him."
Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Yes, Oliver was a highly private person, just as she was, but there was no need for that reaction to finding out they lived together.
"For how long?" Asked Pallie.
"A while," Oliver replied, receiving annoyed glances in response. "Not tha' it's any af yer business."
"Why didn't you tell us?" His brow furrowed, sounding a little upset that they'd kept something so big from them.
"You are aware of who you're talking to, yes?" Hermione asked, sipping from her wine. "Quidditch Star, War Heroine," her finger swivelled between her and Oliver. "How do you think the press would react to such news?" She tipped her head and they all winced.
"Yeah, that wouldn't be pretty," Malloy agreed. "Especially when the fangirls catch wind of what's going on."
"Exactly, and it wasn't just you we kept it from. No one but our parents knows and even then we kept it a secret from them for a little while."
"You've met the parents and live together?" He questioned in surprise.
"Aye, an' her ma love mae, her da, not so much," Oliver answered, Hermione snorting at him.
"The fewer people that knew about us, the less likely it was that it'd leak to the press, accidentally or not. And we wanted to spend time together before the news broke, we didn't want to have to share the other with the world or have our relationship scrutinised by the public. We wanted to build a relationship that would be strong enough to withstand the backlash that will inevitably hit once we go public. We wanted to go to work and do our jobs and then be able to come home to each other where there were no prying eyes."
"And do you? Plan to go public?" Wilks pressed.
"Yes. Oliver's convinced me that it's time we stopped hiding but before we do, I need to tell my friends as I don't wish for them to find out through the press. And we're going to wait until after the fundraiser, we don't want to take away from all that we're working for. As for how we're doing it, we're just going to start venturing out in public more often, eventually, rumours will spread and articles will start cropping up and at that point, we'll have the PR Team at the stadium release an official statement. We were going to tell you about us after the fundraiser but..." She trailed off with a shrug, pointedly looking at the six men sat before her.
"I still can't believe it," Malloy shook his head in disbelief. "I mean, you and her."
"What the hell's tha' supposed tae mean?" Oliver asked gruffly.
He shrugged. "Look at you and then look at her. She's way out of your league, how'd you do it? Some sort of potion? Spell?"
Oliver glared at him whilst the others sniggered and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"He's not out of my league," she argued. "As for how, it was his cooking. You know that chicken pie I brought you?"
"Yeah," his brow furrowed. "The one you said your friend had..." His words stopped, his eyes widening when Hermione nodded and Oliver smiled smugly. "Shit!" Malloy muttered in surprise. "You can cook! Like, really cook! And hell, that was months ago! Just how long have you been together and kept it quiet?"
"None of your business, and Oliver would be considered a Michelin star chef if he were a muggle," Hermione said proudly. "It's a good thing he can cook otherwise we'd starve."
"Please, I'd happily live on your cookies for the rest of my life," said Kings.
"Although I appreciate the compliment, you can't live on cookies, they have no nutritional value."
"Sorry, Mum," he quipped, barely dodging the cushion she threw at him.
"I'm your Healer, too. Remember that," she warned.
"Where'd you meet?" Thompson asked suddenly. "I mean, you don't exactly run in the same social circles and you said so yourself, you didn't interact much in school."
"The Crimson Lion," Oliver answered, downing the remainder of his fire whiskey and then setting the tumbler on the ground, not being able to reach the table with Merlin sprawled across him.
"Yes, a drunken witch wouldn't leave him be and I stepped in and scared her away," Hermione added.
"There's more to it than that," Thompson said knowingly, his eyes darting to the board games and then to her. "We saw a letter a few months back, it was signed by the Queen of Board Games and Merlin, I know that's you. Something happened, I know it did."
"Tha's none af yer business, drop it," Oliver snapped, his arm around Hermione's shoulders tugging her closer to him when he felt her stiffen. "Leave it," he warned, seeing he was going to press further on the matter.
Pallie took one look at Oliver's angry expression and Hermione's suddenly anxious body language and he silently reached out, lightly punching Thompson in the arm, telling him to drop the subject. Whatever it was, it was highly personal and neither of them wanted them to know and they had to respect that.
"It's gettin' late, ye should probably head home," Oliver spoke but it wasn't a suggestion and they knew it.
"Yeah," Pallie agreed, being the first to stand from the couch and the others soon followed. "And your mother? How'd the meeting go?"
Oliver's expression softened and a smile pulled at his mouth. "Good, she's been scheduled fer surgery on Wednesday, but they're hopeful this could be it."
"That's good to hear," he nodded. "I guess we'll see you both tomorrow and at the same time. Now that we know, there's no point in arriving and leaving at separate times."
Oliver shrugged his shoulders, his gaze darting to Hermione worriedly as she stared at a spot on the wall.
"And this goes without saying, you know we won't talk to anyone about you, before or after the news break," Malloy promised.
Oliver simply nodded his head and as they took their leave, they all glanced over their shoulders, seeing Oliver gently nudging Merlin off him and Hermione before he tugged her into his lap, folding his arms around her and she snuggled against him, the pair sharing a hushed conversation before Oliver pressed a tender kiss to Hermione's forehead and a smile pulled at her mouth.
It was a side of him they'd never seen before.
"Whatever happened to her, it's bad," Thompson grumbled as they descended the grand staircase and passed through the foyer.
"Yeah, but that's her business," Malloy shrugged.
"How can you say that!? After everything she's done for us! For you!" He snapped.
Malloy sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, pushing out it of his eyes. "I know I owe her everything, I'm not stupid. And I understand you care for her, we all do, but we can't get involved in her personal life. Whatever it is, she'll tell us if she wants us to know. She doesn't need our help, she's got Wood and as we all just witnessed, she's got all the support she needs."
"I've never seen that side of him before," Wilks commented, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they stepped out into the cold breeze and headed for the apparition point.
"I still can't believe it," said Kings, "It's gonna take a few days for it to properly sink in. I mean, I suspected but I didn't at the same time. You know?"
They snorted in agreement.
"I don't envy their relationship, I understand why they've kept it quiet. When the press finds out, the fangirls will be brutal," Pallie shivered just at the thought of what Hermione would be forced to face.
"That's something I can't imagine Wood being happy about but Hermione can take care of herself. I'd never want to have her wand aimed in my direction unless she was healing me."
"She's terrifying," Bishop agreed. "Is anyone else slightly freaked out 'bout what we just witnessed or it just me?"
"It's not just you," Thompson confirmed. "Them being together, it's weird but not at the same time. Now that I think about it, from what we know about them, they're well matched."
"Better than most," Malloy agreed, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I wonder... Do you think they're each other's most compatible? I remember my mum telling about it when I was a kid."
Eyes widened slightly as they darted between each other.
"Bloody hell," muttered Kings. "That would certainly explain a lot," he nodded.
"Lucky bastard," grumbled Wilks. "How'd he land Hermione Bleeding Granger as his most compatible?"
"It can't be helped," Malloy shrugged. "Magic's magic. As cheesy as it sounds, I'm just happy they found each other."
"She deserves the best," Pallie agreed. "And Wood will give her that."
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium- Friday 5th March 1999
"Shhh... Be quiet!" Pallie hissed. "They're coming... Stop looking, they'll see us!"
"Isn't this a bit childish?" Malloy arched an amused eyebrow, casually leaning back against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, watching as his teammates hid around the corner as footsteps and quiet voices grew louder as they grew closer.
"No, Benny, it's not," Pallie glared at him.
"It seems childish," he shrugged, amused when Pallie's glare hardened before he flattened himself against the wall, just before their targets rounded the corner.
"BOO!" His teammates chorused loudly, jumping out in front of Hermione and Oliver and much to Malloy's amusement, neither of them looked the slightest bit bothered or startled by it. Rather, they both blinked slowly, looked to each other, sighed and then turned their eyes back to them.
"Good morning, boys," Hermione greeted.
His teammates all deflated, pouting, sulking and grumbling under their breath that their plan had failed and massively so.
"Is there any particular reason you thought that was necessary?" She questioned, arching an eyebrow and Malloy snorted.
"Just thought it'd be fun to scare you," Thompson shrugged solemnly.
"Well, in hindsight, that was a terrible idea. If I truly had been startled, one of you would now be in my examination room and that is not how I wish to start my morning, yourselves?" They all grumbled in response. "Thought not," she nodded. "Now, is there something you need?" She questioned.
And on cue, a snort fell from Malloy when the rest of his teammates suddenly stood taller and began chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Hermione and Oliver looked to each other and then back to them.
"No," she said flatly.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
"Absolutely not," she folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
"Why not?" Pallie whined, dejected.
"Why? First of all, we are not zoo animals that exist for your entertainment, we are human beings, and secondly, whilst you may now know about our relationship, no one else does. We don't want to risk anyone seeing us and blabbing to the press before we're ready."
"What're you all doing here, you should be on the pitch," said Coach Burton as he approached with a clipboard in hand, having just left his office. "Oh," he said lightly, his eyes darting between Hermione and Oliver, seeing they were stood closer than they usually did and Oliver's arm had wound its way around Hermione's waist not too long ago. "I see you're finally coming clean."
Hermione and Oliver's eyes widened and they darted to the team suspiciously.
"You told him!" Hermione's voice rose.
"No, we haven't told anyone," Kings defended. "We haven't had time, we only found out last night."
"Wait, you didn't know," Coach Burton arched an eyebrow. "It was obvious there was something going on."
"Hoo long have ye known?" Oliver asked him warily.
Coach Burton shrugged. "Since the day Healer Dodd was fired." That was the day they'd first met Hermione and splutters and noises of surprise surrounded him and he laughed, shaking his head. "You weren't as subtle as you believed yourself to be, Wood. I've always known."
Oliver's brow furrowed. "Why dinnae ye say anythin'?"
"It's none of my business," he replied simply. "And you obviously didn't want anyone to know, and your relationship's nothing but professional when at the stadium, which is why I don't have a problem with you two being together despite being colleagues, even if you do fake injuries from time to time."
Oliver's eyes widened and the team burst into laughter.
"I told you," Hermione huffed, jabbing Oliver in the ribs as she unfolded her arms. "Don't worry, Coach, he won't be doing that anymore, I promise."
Coach Burton tipped his head. "I want you on the pitch in five minutes or I'm benching you for the next match," he warned before taking his leave down the corridor.
"Well, you heard the man, off you go," Hermione said.
"Cookies?" Kings asked hopefully.
"No," she shook her head.
"Brownies?" Malloy perked up, pushing away from the wall.
"No,"
"Shortbread?" Guessed Pallie.
"No," she replied, digging into her robe pocket and removing a Tupperware box before resizing it. "Today's blueberry muffins and they're still warm."
"Oh, you angel!" Cried Thompson as he darted forward and snatched the tub before anyone else could, holding it protectively against his chest.
"But you promised cookies!" Whined Kings childishly.
"Yes, when it's your turn, you've already had cookies this week and it was Thomspon's turn today. He's been begging me to bake blueberry muffins for weeks. Now, stop your whining and off you go."
"Not before you and Wood kiss," Pallie stood his ground.
Hermione rolled her eyes before she reached up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Oliver's cheek.
"There, now go."
"That's cheating!" Cried Wilks.
"You should've been more specific," she smiled before she reached up and whispered in Oliver's ear, "Good luck, you're going to need it," and then she turned and left for her office.
~000~000~000~
Why was the day passing so slowly? Oliver thought in annoyance.
He'd been dealing with his pain-in-the-arse teammates all morning and though it felt like hours had passed, they hadn't even reached lunchtime yet.
"So, Wood, are ya gonna spill?" Asked Kings as he sidled up beside him on his broom.
"Naw," he replied flatly, keeping watch for any rogue bludgers.
"Why not?" He frowned. "Your girlfriend's Hermione Granger, you've gotta tell us something."
"Do a?" He arched an eyebrow in challenge.
"Yes," argued Bishop as he halted to a stop before him, soon being followed by the rest of the team.
"Don't be selfish," Pallie said. "Tell us, what's she like?"
"What!" Oliver snapped angrily and they all flinched back in surprise. "If ye think a'll ever reveal anythin' aboot her tha's private, yer fucking nuttier than Fox," he replied, the others blinking in surprise before sniggering.
"That's not possible," argued Malloy, "He's taken far too many bludgers to the head for that to be possible," he shrugged and the others nodded in agreement, knowing the reserve Keeper could barely remember his wife's name due to the number of knocks he'd taken in training.
"And I wasn't prying into anything sexual, I just meant in general. You know, as a girlfriend? What's she like to live with? Which I still find hard to believe, especially since we know how private you are and that no woman other than your mother has been to your place."
"If a tell ye, will ye back aff?"
"No," said Wilks.
"Yes," Pallie replied, slapping Wilks over the back of the head.
Oliver sighed in defeat and rubbed his calloused fingers over his face.
"A don' know what yer expecting, naw matter what ye think 'boot her or what yer've heard, she's still a witch, jus' like any other."
"I doubt that," King interrupted with a snort and Oliver shot him an annoyed glance.
"A meant, she's human. The press has built up this massive pedestal fer her an' anno hoo much she hates it. She's a very private person, more so than a am. She avoids the media as much as possible an' befere she moved in with mae, only a handful af people knew where she previously lived, naw matter hoo close they were tae her. The press depict her as being powerful an' smart an' kind, an' whilst it's true, she's so much more than a War Heroine an' a coveted Healer. She visits an orphanage in Diagon Alley once a week an' she spends hours reading an' playin' with the kids. She cannae cook but she bakes more than a can eat, which is why she always brings food here an' sends some tae her friends an' tae the orphanage. She spends almost as much time in the library as she does baking an' a have to drag her away from her books when it gets tae late or at mealtimes. She doesn't stop eating; she's always got a biscuit or sugar quill in her hand when wandering the manor or reading. She talks tae herself when working on research fer one af her cases fer St. Mungo's. She hums an' sings songs a've never heard af when she's baking an' she wears these daft aprons. She's always cold an' more often than not she's wearing a Granny-cardigan tha's far tae big fer her."
"Living with her is...Easy, simple," he shrugged, his gaze seeming to have locked on a random spot in the distance. "The manor always smells like baking an' between Hermione an' Merlin, it's never quiet," his mouth twitched into a smile.
If the manor wasn't filled with laughter, barking and exclaims that he was cheating at whatever game they were playing, there was always the soft music playing from the piano room, sometimes Hermione playing his favourite piece, Love Dream, sometimes playing pieces for him she remembered from her childhood tutoring and other times, working on her compositions, and he knew she still hadn't finished the one she'd been working on for weeks now.
"That explains why Merlin likes you more than us despite you never seeming to interact with him," mused Wilks.
"There's naw lies or secrets between us, there's naw distrust or worry tha' the other will blab tae the press 'boot anythin' the other may so or do. Ev'ry mornin' a wake up, there's breakfast on the table an' she's made mae lunch an' after training, we go home an' don' have tae hide. An' when we do go oot, we go tae places we won't be recognised."
"Like?" Prompted Pallie nosily.
"We've been tae Paris a few times, we went tae Milan a couple as weeks ago, an' Venice an' Rome fer Valentine's Day," he shrugged.
"Shite!" Wilks muttered. "Are you going for the title of Britain's best boyfriend? You're making the rest of us look bad."
Oliver rolled his eyes. "None af ye have girlfriends," he pointed out.
"But if we did you'd be making us look bad," he argued.
"That can't be cheap," commented Thompson, eyeing him strangely. "Even on our wage, going to places like that can cost a pretty sickle."
"A can afford it," Oliver shrugged. "Bein' on the team isnae me only income," Oliver said vaguely. "Anno Hermione wants tae travel an' a have the means tae make tha' happen, but it's not like she lets mae pay fer it all, she puts up one hell af a fight until we come tae a comprise. An' we tend tae stick tae the Muggle Word; not only is it cheaper an' we aren't recognised and we don't run the risk of being recognised, but Hermione likes the tourist sites. But none af tha's relevant, she deserves the best an' am doin' ev'rything a can tae make tha' happen."
They watched him closely, undecipherable expressions on their faces before they all seemed to glance at one another and nod knowingly.
"You don't seem as stressed," observed Malloy, his head tipped to the side slightly. "These last few months, you seem a lot more relaxed."
"That's Hermione's doin'," he shrugged.
"I bet it is," said Kings with a smirk, his eyebrows wriggling suggestively. Oliver glared at him furiously. "I mean, I know it's hard to find someone that doesn't want us for our fame and money and despite us not being ready to settle down yet, the one plus to having a girlfriend is regular sex without the risk of her trying to trap you by purposely falling pregnant, or one night stands that might pass something along. Regular stress relief."
"A swear, yer askin' tae be knocked aff yer broom," Oliver warned, sniggers sounding from his words. "Mine an' Hermione's sex life, naw matter hoo frequent or adventurous, is none af yer business."
"Adventurous, you say?" He perked up. "I knew there was a secret sex kitten under that innocent smile of hers."
Malloy reached out to not only steady Oliver but to stop him from wrapping his hands around King's throat when he lunged for him, apparently forgetting that he was two hundred above ground on his broom and that one wrong move could mean his death.
"Does she keep you on your toes? Does she wear you out? That's why you're not stressed anymore, isn't it? You're too tired to be stressed."
Pallie reached out to prevent Oliver from drawing his wand, partially amused by his reaction and partially annoyed with Kings for winding him up so much that they might end up two players down, one from murder, the other from falling from his broom after committing murder. With a look to Thompson, he nodded and silently reached up, smacking Kings over the back of the head.
"Stop it," he warned. "At first it was funny, but you're taking it too far. Have some respect, if not for Wood then for Hermione."
"Sorry," Kings muttered, looking chastised. "I'll stop."
"You're not gonna hurt her, are you?" Thompson suddenly asked, his expression serious as he ignored the wide-eyed looks of his teammates, them all being surprised that he'd actually just asked him that question.
"Excuse mae?" Oliver's voice slightly in surprise.
"You heard me. We care for that little witch and I don't care how long you've been together or how serious your relationship is, if you hurt her..." He trailed off, his warning clear. "I know you..."
"Naw, ye don'," Oliver interrupted, his tone cold, low and dangerous, something none of them had ever heard him use before. "Ye only know an' see what a allow ye tae. The person a am when am here is not the person a am when am in private or at home. That is the person a am with Hermione. Yeah, a might've faked an injury here an' there so a could see her withoot suspicion, but there's a reason a've kept me distance when she's here. It wisnae tae throw ye aff 'boot our relationship or prevent ye from finding oot, it was fer her. Anno tha' when am stressed a can be an arsehole an' a don' ev'r want her tae see tha' side af mae. A don' ev'r want her tae walk in on mae shouting at ye or the team, or fer her tae catch me temper the way some af the staff do after a shitty day. Who a am with ye an who a am with Hermione are twa completely different people. A would never harm Hermione, physically, mentally or emotionally. A would never disrespect her in such a way. Not only does she deserve better, a love her."
Splutters and coughs sounded from around him and although Oliver was a little surprised he'd just divulged the very strength of his feelings to his teammates given how private a person he was, he wasn't ashamed of Hermione or his feelings for her.
"You love her?" Thompson asked slowly, his eyes wide.
Oliver took a deep breath but it did little to calm him and his hands closed around his broom handle tightly.
"Did ye think a'd ask her tae move in with mae if a dinnae love her?"
"So, it' serious between you?" He pushed.
Oliver grumbled and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, deciding whether or not if he should admit what he was considering voicing.
"Look, don' breathe a word af this tae anyone, least as all Hermione," he warned, and although he'd previously had their attention, they all sat taller and fixed their eyes on him, their expressions telling him to hurry up and spit it out. "She doesn't know..."
"Know what?" Malloy prompted.
Oliver took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. "She's my most compatible."
They all rolled their eyes and released huffs.
"Oh, is that all," Malloy said with a disappointed frown.
Oliver's brow furrowed. They knew what it was? How? Whilst the majority of the team were Purebloods and the remainder Half-bloods born to the Wizarding World, he hadn't known about such magics until his parents had told him. He'd been expecting to have to explain it to them.
"Ye know what a mean?"
"Yeah, my mother told me about compatible matches when I was a kid," Malloy shrugged.
"Mine too," chorused Pallie and Bishop.
"But how d'you know Hermione's yours?" Needled Malloy curiously.
"Bobby," Oliver shrugged. "From the moment he met Hermione, he's been answering her calls an' following her 'round. The day after a asked Hermione tae move in with mae, he told mae Hermione was gonna be the mistress of the manor and the next Lady Wood, he swore a'd marry her. Me parents love her an' when a told them, they dinnae seem surprised. Tha's when they told mae tha' house-elves have their own magic which allows them tae sense their next master or mistress an' they told mae 'boot compatible matches. A dinnae know but they confessed they were each other's most compatible, me da' house-elf told him when they were still in school."
"Lucky bastard," muttered Bishop, giving his head a shake. "Not only have you found your most compatible match so young, but to have Hermione Granger as yours..." He trailed off, the others nodding in agreement.
"And she doesn't know?" Pallie asked.
"Naw," Oliver shook her head. "She's Muggleborn, there's still magics in the world she doesn't understand, hell, a dinnae even know 'boot this one. It's a little harder fer her tae trust her magic the way we do, we were taught tae, she wisnae. But a will tell her, a jus' don' know when yet."
"Hmmm," hummed Thompson, "So, when's the wedding?"
Oliver's eyes widened in panic. "What!" He hissed.
"Wait? Have you asked her to marry you already?" Asked Kings, noticing his alarm. "But then, why isn't she wearing a ring?" He mused.
"No, he hasn't asked her yet but he's bought a ring," said Thompson knowingly. "Haven't you?"
Oliver grumbled something beneath his breath and sent him a less than friendly look as he passed a hand through his hair. "Aye, a have," he admitted, seeing their eyes widen at having it confirmed.
"So when are you going to ask her?"
"A dunno, not yet," Oliver answered, knowing they wouldn't leave him be unless he did. "A wanna give her a little time first before a spring it on her. At the very least, our parents know."
"They do?" They all chorused unintentionally.
"Aye, it's a muggle tradition ta get permission from the bride's father befere proposing, an' though anno he doesn't like mae simply fer the fact he's overprotective an' Hermione's his only child and daughter, he gave mae his blessing fer when a was ready... No more questions," Oliver interrupted Wilks' when his mouth opened. "A've already told ye far more than a ev'r intended. Don' mention any af this tae anyone, a don' want it getting oot or tae Hermione. Now, get back tae work," he ordered, his eyes darting down to the Coach's box and seeing Coach Burton apparently busy in conversation with Hermione.
As his teammates returned to their positions and training manoeuvres, Oliver's eyes remained on the Coach's box. Despite having calmed a little, King's words kept floating through his mind and his hands clenched into fists. He would've strangled him had he not been stopped. He knew that he was far too wound up and it wouldn't take much for it all to boil over. It wasn't yet lunch and if he didn't calm himself, the rest of the day wouldn't be pleasant for anyone. There was only one person that could calm him and without thought, he left his position and flew down to the Coach's box but by the time he'd landed, Hermione had already left.
"Wood?" Coach Burton arched a questioning eyebrow.
"A need tae see Hermione," Oliver replied, dismounting his broom and propping it up against the railing.
Coach Burton tipped his head slightly, noting the change in his addressing of her. Before it had been 'Granger' and now it was 'Hermione'. He supposed there was no need for him to hide his relationship now that it was known to the team.
"What fake injury do you have this time?" He asked.
Oliver refused to be embarrassed or made to feel bad and kept his gaze locked on the Coach's.
"Naw fake injuries," Oliver assured him.
"Real injury?"
"Naw," Oliver shook his head.
"Why do you need to see her?" He probed. Oliver's eyes darted to his teammates above and the Coach's followed. "Say no more, off you go."
"Really?" Oliver questioned in surprise.
Coach Burton nodded. "I saw them crowd you, we both know they don't think before they speak and I can only imagine they said something either insulting or intrusive. I've previously noted that when you return from seeing Hermione you're always calmer. If you're worried you'll do or say something to that lot," he gestured above them, "Hermione can calm you, so, off you go, lunch is in ten minutes anyway."
"Thanks, Coach," Oliver said before he left the Coach's box and headed for Hermione's office.
When he reached his destination, he knocked on the door and entered after she called out, stepping into the examination room the moment he closed the door behind him.
"Seriously? You can't be faking injuries anymore," Hermione said, partially exasperated and partially amused. "I know... Oomph!"
The air rushed out of her lungs when Oliver crossed the room and pulled her against him, folding his arms around her and burying his face against her neck.
"What's wrong?" She frowned, her arms looping around his neck and running her hand gently through the hair at the nape of his neck, her nails lightly scratching against his skin.
"Nothing," he muttered.
"I know you, I know when you're lying," she replied, drawing back from him until she could see his face. "They've been teasing you, haven't they?"
"Naw," he shook his head. "They've been annoying me," he corrected.
"Did you expect anything different?"
"A expected it, but a dinnae expect it be so annoying. A almost strangled Kings an' a would've if Malloy hadn't stopped me."
"They'll get it out of their system," she promised him. "Give it a couple of days and it won't be news to them anymore, it'll all blow over."
"Am jus' glad it's Saturday tomorrow. Where do ye feel like goin' fer the weekend?"
"About that," she nibbled her lip and he arched an eyebrow. "Harry's asked if I'm going to the Burrow for dinner on Sunday?"
"Okay," he replied slowly.
"Well, you know I haven't been back since we last went, it was too awkward. But now that our relationship's as strong as ever, we're happy and the team knows about us, I thought we could both go and tell them about us."
"Yer ready fer tha'?"
She smiled up at him and nodded. "I'm ready. The fundraiser's next Saturday and we'll give it a couple of days to get as much attention as possible before we start venturing out into public and no more hiding. Now's the perfect time to tell Harry and the Weasleys. If they don't take the news well, we'll leave before dinner's served."
"Perfect," he agreed. "But jus' 'cause we're goin' fer dinner on Sunday doesn't mean we cannae go away fer the weekend, we jus' come back earlier than we usually do," he shrugged. "So, where do ye wanna go?"
She nibbled her lip in thought. "Somewhere warm with a beach so we can do nothing but lounge in the sun all day. It's been a while since I've worn a bikini, I might have to pop to the shops and see if I can buy a new one."
"A what?" His head tipped slightly.
"You don't know what a bikini is?"
"Never heard af it," he confirmed.
She smiled up at him. "A bikini, a bathing suit, a muggle bathing suit, it would seem. You've seen the difference between muggle and wizarding fashion. You're in for a treat," she vowed. "Anyway, it's lunchtime, we can eat in here if you want to."
"We shouldn't," he sighed, "The teasing an' suggestive comments from the team will be relentless an' a might actually kill one or twa af them. If we eat in the cafeteria with them we don' give them any potential ammunition an' they're scared af ye so they won't do or say anything annoying."
Hermione snorted before nodding and stepping out of his hold. She retrieved her lunch from her office before they left to the locker room so Oliver might retrieve his own, both of them being thankful for the invention of Cooling Charms to stop their lunch from spoiling.
"So, do you regret meeting me?" Hermione asked.
Oliver's eyes darted down to her in surprise. They were walking beside one another, a little closer than usual but still nothing to be suspicious about despite both of them trying to hold back the habit of reaching for the other's hand and twining their fingers together.
"What?"
"The teasing from the team," she clarified.
"Damsel, a'd endure torture from You-Know-Who if it meant ye were in me life."
"My, that is a declaration of love if I've ever heard one. I wouldn't wish that on my enemies," she replied.
"A do love ye."
"I know, I love you, too," she smiled up at him before they entered the cafeteria and as one, the team that were gathered around a singular table, all turned to face them, scary smiles pulling at their faces. "Do you still love me?" She asked quietly.
"Aye, forever," he promised.
"I'll hold you to that," she replied before walking forward, her posture perfect and her head held high. "If I hear one single comment I deem inappropriate, intrusive or annoying, there will be no baked goods for one week."
"WHAT!"
"ONE WEEK!"
"YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"
Oliver's mouth twitched in amusement as the expression of horror was mirrored by each member of the team.
"You're right," Hermione said lightly, nodding her head. The team all sighed in relief. "Two weeks," she corrected.
"TWO WEEKS!"
"HOW DARE YOU!"
"YOU'RE A MONSTER!"
Oliver knew that he'd be left alone for the remainder of the day. Merlin, did he love and appreciate the little witch as she peered over her shoulder at him and sent a smirk coupled with a wink.
~000~000~000~
The Burrow – Sunday 7th March 1999
"Are you ready?" Hermione asked.
"Aye, are ye?" He echoed.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she nodded before releasing a steady breath. "No matter what happens or what's said in there, I love you."
"Anno, an' naw matter what happens or what's said a love ye an' a'll support ye. Do a have permission tae throttle Ron?"
A light laugh fell from her. "I doubt Mrs. Weasley would appreciate it but if you do, hold him down so I might a smack in, too."
"It's a deal," he nodded before taking her hand and leading her towards the Burrow, being thankful the weather had long since warmed up; the last time they'd been there'd been snow on the ground and it'd been freezing. Now there was a gentle breeze and a warm sun and the walk from the shed to the Burrow didn't seem as long.
He could feel Hermione's nerves grow as they approached, both in her hand tightening around his and her body as she pressed herself against him. This was important to her. Whilst he'd already met her parents and he had their approval (her father's begrudgingly), the Weasleys were just as much her family.
"A'll wait in the hall," he told her after entering through the door, the chorus of loud voices filling their ears.
"I won't be long," she promised.
She took several steadying breaths and turned to leave him but she hesitated in releasing his hand. Oliver chuckled before he pressed a kiss to her forehead, both feeling and seeing her relax at the gesture before he pulled his hand free of her grip and gave her a gentle nudge forward.
She cleared her throat and straightened her posture, squaring her shoulders and holding her head high before disappearing from view as if she were about to go into the battle. Hermione headed for the kitchen and when she stepped inside, the smell of the cooking food invaded her nose and made her feel hungry, and she noted that everyone was already present and gathered around the enlarged table. Mr. Weasley sat at the head of the table with Percy on his left and Bill on his right. Bill was followed by Fleur and Ginny sat beside her with Harry beside her, being in conversation with the twins who sat opposite him. Ron sat in-between Percy and George and Charlie was visiting from Romania, sitting beside Fred, talking across the table and to Ginny whilst Mrs. Weasley bustled around by the kitchen countertops.
"Hello," Hermione called softly in greeting.
All conversation halted and eyes and smiles turned to her.
"Hermione, it's lovely to see you, you really must come by more often, we miss you around here," said Mrs. Weasley as she hurried over to give her a bone-crushing hug.
"I'm sorry, I've been very busy."
"Don't we know it, Miss. Healer to Puddlemere United's finest," said George.
"Why didn't you tell us? We're a little hurt we had to find out in the paper," added Fred.
"Wait? You're Puddlemere's Healer? Since when?" Asked Charlie in surprise. "And by the way, you're looking good, 'Mione," Charlie wriggled his eyebrows.
Hermione laughed lightly and Mrs. Weasley tutted at him. "Down there Dragon Boy," she replied, sniggers sounding in the room. "I've been Puddlemere's Healer since December, several of the players are my patients and I was called as the previous team Healer was appalling, it's a wonder none of them died... Yes, I'm being serious," she added before one of the twins could ask if she were joking. "He was useless and neglectful and I brought it to the attention of the authorities. Since then, I'm their Healer. I didn't tell you because I didn't know myself. I received an envelope with an offer and a contract, it was too good to refuse, especially when they promised to donate monthly to the orphanage and pay for the children's' education."
"Damn, no wonder you accepted," said George, "Of course, the wage didn't sway it?"
"A little," she admitted and he smirked at her proudly.
"Well, take a seat, Dear, dinner's about ready," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Actually, there's something I need to talk to you about," Hermione said, shifting slightly on her feet, something that went unmissed by everyone.
"Oh?" Ginny arched an eyebrow, giving her a look as if she knew what she was about to say.
"Yes, you see, I've been keeping something from you for a while now, and now I'm ready and happy to tell you."
"Is this why you've been busy lately?" Asked Harry, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Partially," she nodded. "I am busy with my Healer duties, both private and for the team as well as the cases I'm consulting on for St. Mungo's, but there's another reason. You see..."
"Spit it out," Ginny rolled her eyes, her eyes gleaming.
Hermione cleared her throat and clasped her hands together.
"I've been seeing someone."
"WHAT!"
Hermione winced against the chorused voices, some of the voices surprised and others angry. Those that were angry belonged to Ron and Harry, the former a jealous arsehole, the latter an overprotective best friend.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to until we were a bit more serious, until we were ready for people to know. We wanted to spend time together without people seeing and without the press finding out."
"He's famous?" Bill arched an eyebrow.
"He is," Hermione nodded. "You know the media and their obsession with us," she gestured between herself, Harry and Ron, "I didn't want them poking their noses in and ruining something before it even had a chance to go somewhere. I liked not having to share him with anyone else, and I didn't tell you for the same reasons. I do trust you but when you're drunk, you Weasleys have a habit of spilling your secrets."
Harry nodded agreement.
"Got a point there," Charlie conceded, scratching his chin and chuckling.
"We've both come to the agreement it's time to tell everyone. Our parents have already met and my mum adores him, my dad, not so much," she admitted and they snorted. Mr. Weasley chuckled and nodded in understanding whilst his eyes darted to Ginny and Harry briefly. "I even went on a muggle spa retreat with my mum and his mum last week. We are going to go public but we're not going to do it by releasing a statement, we're simply going to venture into public without hiding until we're spotted and we're waiting until after the fundraiser for the orphanage which is next Saturday," she reminded them, "And we don't wish to take attention away from it. I wanted you to find out from me and not the media, and his teammates already know after they saw me at his house..."
"Teammates?" Questioned Harry suspiciously.
"Yes," she nodded. "Please, be nice to him, he's outside waiting and I'll fetch him now." Taking a breath and keeping her eyes firmly away from Ron's hateful glare, she popped her head out of the door and called out, Oliver soon coming into view. He gave her a comforting smile before he stepped into the kitchen, standing beside her.
The kitchen was deadly silent as their confused gazes darted between her and Oliver.
"Wood? What are you doing here?" Fred tipped his head.
"Oliver's my boyfriend," Hermione said, smiling sheepishly when Oliver slipped his larger hand around her much smaller one.
"Huh?" George said. "I don't get the joke."
"It's not a joke," said Oliver calmly. "She's me girlfriend."
"You? Quidditch obsessed nutjob?"
Hermione scowled at him. "Don't say that," she chastised. "Oliver's a brilliant wizard. Yes, Quidditch is his passion but it's not his only passion. He's very smart and talented in other areas, too."
"Sorry," George shook his head, leaning back into his chair as if to get further away from her and Ginny sniggered.
"I knew there was someone," she said smugly. "Harry didn't believe me," she jabbed her thumb in his direction but he didn't respond, his haze locked firmly on Oliver. "How long have you been together?"
Hermione and Oliver looked to each other.
"That's complicated, we'll say December?" She looked at Oliver questioningly.
"December," he nodded. Not only was it when they'd both shared their first kiss under the mistletoe, it was when they realised they'd loved each other.
"So why'd you go on those blind dates I set you up on?" She arched her eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged. "To throw you off," Hermione lied. "Oliver understood, it was his idea."
"You were together when you last came for dinner?" Mrs. Weasley brow furrowed.
"No," Hermione shook her head. "We were just friends at that point but our relationship grew without either of us realising it until it smacked us in the face and we were forced to admit our feelings for one another."
"You say you're serious, how serious?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed slightly. To Oliver's credit, he didn't budge or squirm, he held Harry's gaze unflinchingly.
"I love him," Hermione confessed, forcing down her blush at the wide-eyed looks she received.
"A love her," Oliver added, splutters and coughs sounding in the kitchen.
"And...Well... We live together... And have since February." Hermione winced at the horrified gasp that left Mrs. Weasley and the surprised sounds of the others. "Please, Molly..." Hermione interrupted her rant before it could begin. "I understand that you have your own views and traditions regarding cohabitation before marriage, but the world's changed from when you were my age. It is no longer taboo. It isn't frowned upon in the Muggle World, my parents lived together before they married, and my father's almost ten years older than my mother. Neither of them has an issue with us living together and neither do Oliver's parents. And as much as I love you, no matter what you may say, I won't allow you to make me feel guilty for being with the wizard I love."
"May a please speak with ye fer a moment in private?" Oliver said politely, looking to the Weasley parents and they nodded slowly.
Oliver gave her hand a squeeze before he stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, drawing his wand and muttering a Silencing Charm the moment they followed. Mrs. Weasley's lips were pursed and her hands were set on her hips whilst her husband looked to him questioningly regarding the use of the Silencing Charm.
"Anno Hermione considers yer family tae be her family an' anno she sees ye both as her parents," he started, seeing Mrs. Weasley blink in surprise, her expression softening slightly. "An' fer tha' reason a wish tae share somethin' with ye, somethin' me parents already know as well as Hermione's."
"And that is?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Do ye know 'boot compatible matches?"
They both blinked in surprise and shared a glance before they turned their eyes back to him.
"Yes, we do. Molly and I are our most compatible."
Oliver's mouth twitched into a smile. "As are me mother and father," Oliver nodded. "Well, Hermione's me most compatible."
"Are you certain?" Asked Mrs. Weasley, her hands falling from her hips and her body language changing into something more welcoming and open.
"Aye," he nodded. "Me house-elf's been answering Hermione's calls since meeting her an' he follows her 'round me manor. He told mae she is the future Lady Wood, tha' she's tae be his mistress an' a will marry her. A spoke tae me parents an' tha's when they told mae 'boot compatible matches. Hermione is me most compatible an' am hers. It's why a asked her tae move in with mae, a cannae bear the thought af her not being beside mae. Hermione doesn't know yet an' am gonna tell her, jus' not yet, with her bein' Muggleborn anno she'll need time tae come tae terms with it. When a met her parents, a told them ev'rything an' not only tha', a got her father's permission, as per muggle tradition, tae marry her."
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Weasley whispered.
Oliver smiled down at the short, stumpy woman. "A've already bought her an engagement ring. Naw matter hoo long we've been together, a want tae marry her an' a am gonna marry her. Am jus' waiting fer the right time tae propose."
"Oh Goodness," cried Mrs. Weasley.
Oliver's breath was knocked out of him when the small woman pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, quiet sniffles sounding from her and when she pulled back, she chuckled and wiped at her teary eyes.
"Sorry, Dear," she apologised. "I am happy our Hermione has found someone that loves her so. I know she and Ron had their problems but now I know why... She found you."
Oliver smiled, deliberately biting the inside of his cheek to prevent a string of sentences from leaving his mouth, mainly the real reason behind their breakup – Ron being an arsehole and treating her like shit.
"Congratulations, my boy," said Mr. Weasley, clapping Oliver on the shoulder and smiling at him.
"Thank ye, please don' say anythin'. Hermione doesn't know an' a wish tae keep it a surprise."
"Of course, our lips are sealed," Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Especially against the children, Hermione is right, they do tend to be a little loose-lipped after drinking. Now, we best get back in there, we've dinner to be eaten."
Oliver nodded and when they stepped back into the kitchen, he froze at the sudden cold, tense and awkward atmosphere. Everyone was silent and leaning back into their chairs, their eyes darting between an angry and red-faced Ron and a silently seething Hermione, her hands clenched into fists and her hair surrounding her in a frizzy halo. She was furious.
They'd missed something.
He crossed over to her, settling a hand on the small of her back and she visibly relaxed, a rush of air leaving her mouth as she leaned back against him, tipping her head against his shoulder to look up at him.
"Do ye want me tae hit him?" He muttered.
Her mouth twisted. "Not before I do," she replied. "I'll be fine as long as he keeps his mouth shut and doesn't look at me. I'm not letting him scare me away. I've missed them and I'm happy to be sharing you with them so they can see how wonderful you are."
"Ronald, where are your manners?" Scolded Mrs. Weasley. "Be nice or leave the table and find elsewhere to dine."
"Mum..."
"No, Ronald," she set her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, the redhead wizard snapping his mouth shut and silently glowering at the surface of the table. "Hermione, Oliver, find your seats."
Silently, Hermione took a seat beside Harry and Oliver sat beside her, holding her hand under the table.
"Now then, how'd you land our dear old Captain and Quidditch Star as your fella?" Asked Fred, leaning forward and folding his arms against the surface of the table.
"My baking," Hermione shrugged lightly.
"Damn right, don't blame the wizard," agreed George.
"She threatened the team with naw baked goods fer twa weeks if they dinnae behave an' keep their comments an' teasing 'boot our relationship tae themselves. Pallie actually cried," Oliver said amusedly.
"To be fair, I'd probably cry, too," admitted Bill. "She does make the best rhubarb pie."
The others nodded vehemently.
"So, what's for dessert today? Not gonna lie, I've missed your baking," Charlie said.
"I'll be sure to send them more often," Hermione promised and Charlie grinned in response.
"Let me know, yeah? So I can hide them, if the other Keepers get wind of your little surprise, they'll break into my cabin and steal it all. They damn well did last time, they only left me one cookie as if I wouldn't notice the rest were missing along with both pies, the brownies and the cheesecake," he scowled unhappily.
"I'll jinx them next time so only your wand can open the hamper," she replied.
"Best sister ever," he grinned.
"Oi!" Ginny called, looking for something to throw but she had nothing other than plates and cutlery.
"Learn to cook like mum or bake like 'Mione and then maybe I'll reconsider," he shrugged. She rolled her eyes.
"As for dessert," Hermione interrupted, drawing their attention, "I haven't baked anything."
"WHAT!" They all cried. She winced and Oliver's mouth twitched in amusement.
"Now I feel like crying," muttered Fred.
"I'm sorry but I haven't had the chance," she explained.
Well, it wasn't completely true. She'd had time to bake one lemon meringue pie but that had been solely for Oliver, it being his favourite and he'd lamented on the fact he would not share it with anyone, much to her amusement.
"Why not?"
"We hadn't been back long before we came here."
"Where'd you go?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"We went to Cuba for the weekend."
"What!" Shrieked Fleur and Ginny, staring at her in betrayal as if she'd dared to go to such an exotic place without them.
"Cuba, we went for the weekend, we would've stayed until Monday morning and then just floo'd straight to the stadium from there, but we came back early so we could come to dinner."
"You went to Cuba?" Ginny questioned slowly.
"Yes, we often go away for the weekend. Since we've been together, we've been to Paris a few times, we've been to Milan, we went to Venice and Rome for Valentine's Day and Cuba this weekend."
They all stared silently whilst Ron looked more angry than surprised.
Ginny's eyes flew to Harry.
"How come you don't take me away for the weekend to exotic places?"
"I have a job, Gin, I work odd and long hours," Harry rolled his eyes.
"So does Oliver, he and Hermione work six days a week and Hermione has two jobs. And they still manage to find time together and he whisks her away to explore the world. Where's my romantic getaway?"
Harry dropped his head into his hands and sighed before looking to Oliver.
"Thanks, Mate, you've just made me look like the worst boyfriend in the world," he said and the others sniggered at him.
"It's not Oliver's fault he's so perfect," Hermione smiled smugly.
"She deserves the best an' am making sure she gets it. If she wants tae travel the world, then we'll travel the world," Oliver replied, smiling down at Hermione and squeezing her hand under the table, ignoring the retching sounds from the twins and Ron grinding his teeth.
"Yes, Harry, don't I deserve the best, too?" Said Ginny.
Harry grumbled and buried his face in his hands whilst she and Oliver sniggered.
"So..."
Hermione looked to the twins suspiciously after they'd dragged out the singular word.
"These other areas Wood's very talented in..." Started Fred.
"You wouldn't happen to have been talking about in the bedroom, would you?" Finished George.
Hermione knew they were trying to embarrass her. It had worked with her mum and Oliver's, but not with the twins.
Hermione shrugged. "No complaints from me."
"None?" Charlie arched an eyebrow.
"Nope, it's not my fault he's perfect... Are you embarrassed?" She asked, looking to Oliver.
He looked more amused than anything despite the turn the conversation had taken. "Nope, continue," he encouraged.
"Perfect?" Echoed the twins.
She nodded. "Multiple orgasms every time."
"Every time?" They looked at him appraisingly.
Oliver smirked and nodded smugly. "Ev'ry time," he confirmed.
"Damn, Wood, you're really pulling out all the stops," said Charlie.
"Oh, weekend romantic getaways and multiple orgasms!" Said Ginny. "Harry, you need to up your game or I'm gonna date Oliver."
"You'll have to get passed my wand first," snorted Hermione.
"Merlin, I've never seen you possessive over anything before. Fine, I'll date him in my dreams."
"Sorry, I think he'll be too busy being in mine," Hermione chirped.
"Oh fine!" She huffed. "Step up your game," Ginny warned Harry, who looked very torn between fleeing from the room or Avada'ing himself. "I mean it, Harry. I want multiple orgasms, too."
"GINEVRA WEASLEY!" Shrieked Mrs. Weasley.
"Sorry, Mum," she replied, looking far from it.
She and Oliver shared a snigger.
"Well, it went a lot better than I thought it would, but I suppose they already knew you beforehand," commented Hermione.
Oliver nodded. "What happened when a left? What did he say tae ye?"
Hermione sighed. "He called me every name under the sun and insulted you, too. It's nothing I haven't heard before, I was more upset that he was slandering your character than the insults aimed at me... It's good you came in when you did otherwise I'd have put him in St. Mungo's. What did you need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about?"
"Just' telling them 'boot me ma," he lied.
She smiled and nodded, turning her attention towards the food dishes that were lowering onto the table.
When Oliver looked up, Mrs. Weasley was stood by her husband's chair, her hand resting on his shoulder as she watched him closely, tears gathering in her eyes and a knowing smile on her face.
He'd thought his and Hermione's mothers had been bad, Mrs. Weasley might just blow apart his plans if she burst into tears and rushed over to hug them. Feeling Hermione squeezing his hand, he looked down at her questioning gaze.
"You alright?" She asked in concern.
"Never better," he responded, giving her a smile and lifting the dish of mash potato, spooning some onto her plate and then his own before the Weasley children could get to it and eat it all.
"So, Oliver Wood, huh?" Harry muttered.
Hermione turned away from Oliver and to Harry, leaning a little closer so their conversation could be kept private without casting a charm, but the noise of the conversations around them helped to drown out their words.
"Yes," Hermione replied softly. "I love him, Harry, I truly do. I can see myself with him for a really long time. He's not the person you think he is."
"And who's that?" He challenged.
"A Quidditch obsessed nutjob," she replied, echoing George's words from earlier and Harry snorted. "He's not the person you see in the media, that you saw in school or that his teammates see. With me, he's completely different. I know the things he hides from everyone. I know that he loves liquorice wands, he likes reading my muggle fairytale books, he'll sit and play with Merlin for hours rather than telling him to settle down because he doesn't want to 'upset him'. He'll get up two or three times during the night to let Merlin out to use the bathroom no matter that he needs his sleep to keep up with his demanding training schedule or that Merlin disappears on the grounds and might be out for an hour before he comes back."
"He doesn't think I know but when we're at the stadium, he deliberately stays away from me as much as possible, he's under a lot of pressure from the bosses to get the team ready for the game season which is only a few months away. His job's very stressful and dangerous and that makes him snappy, he doesn't want me to see that side of him when he's working. During our time together, he's never once insulted me, upset me or raised his voice. He tells me I'm beautiful and that he loves me every day without fail. I promise he is a good man. He's not Ronald. Please be nice to him. I know you haven't had the chance to interrogate him or scrutinise him, but it's not like he's a complete stranger, is it? I know you're protective and I love you for that, but he's met my parents and they love him. My dad would have definitely made it known if he hadn't. And not only that, we live together. This isn't a casual thing, we're serious. We're building a life together."
"You see yourself marrying him?" Harry arched an eyebrow.
She forced down the blush. "Honestly, yes I do. It might seem silly to you, given that none of this mattered to me before, but I want to marry him. I want to have children with him. He's so good with the kids are the orphanage, they love him and he loves going to see them as much as we do. He's the one that reminds me that we have to find time to visit. Trust me, Harry, please. I know what I'm doing when it comes to Oliver. He is perfect for me. I don't know how, but I can feel it in both my heart and my magic."
Harry's bright green eyes examined her closely for a moment or two before he slowly nodded.
"Okay, I'll back off and I won't go threatening him."
"I'm pretty sure the team's already done that," she injected and he snorted. "They're very protective of me, more so than you are. I can't even sneeze without one of them rushing over and making sure I haven't broken something."
He laughed and shook his head. "I'll be nice, but if he steps out of line..." He let the threat go unfinished but known.
"He won't," she vowed. "I know he won't."