No Time for Epilogues
Chapter 30- Love and Football
May 10
Hermione ate a hearty breakfast. She would need all the energy she could get for the ten a.m. match. She was a midfielder, so she would be running around, a lot. She had been jogging in the morning for weeks now to prepare. She was no Becks by any means, but she would play her best and have some fun. She donned her team's blue, white and silver kit and headed downstairs. Her parents were waiting with a bag.
"Well pumpkin, it's been a while since we've seen you wear a kit," Ian said.
"Ready to play?" Elizabeth asked.
"Always," Hermione replied.
They arrived at the pitch to find some players present, their family and friends and other charity sponsors present.
"Wow, there must be over a hundred people here!" Hermione said.
"With more to come, not even half of the players have arrived yet," Ian said, scanning the pitch.
"I'll go warm up," Hermione said.
"Good luck!" the Grangers called out as Hermione jogged away.
"She looks ready to play," a familiar voice said from behind them. They turned to see Harry, the biggest donor to the charity, anonymously of course. With him were Arthur, George, Bill and Ron.
"She's a midfielder, isn't she?" Harry asked.
"What's a midfielder?" George asked.
"Midfielders keep the ball from the other team and get it to the forwards to score," Harry said. "Forwards are like chasers." All the Weasleys nodded in understanding.
"Come on, sponsors get good seats," Elizabeth said and led them to their seats, center pitch.
They took seats and while Harry explained the basics of football to the Weasleys, Ron only had eyes for Hermione, who was crouching and adjusting her shin guards. She finished and gestured for a ball. Ron heard many young men admire Hermione as she stretched and warmed up. It couldn't be helped, really. She looked young, beautiful and flourishing today. Her hair was in a high ponytail and the kit did nothing to hide her attractive figure.
A ball came flying her way and she smartly bounced it off her head. Another rolled toward her and she dribbled it and sent it across the pitch in a smooth kick. She and some other players gathered in a circle and dribbled the ball back and forth between each other. Some opposing team members came onto the pitch, and Hermione's team greeted their opponents, sponsored by a local fishery, with handshakes, cheek kisses and in Hermione's case, several lingering kisses to her hand, which Ron hated. A loudspeaker crackled into operation.
"Ladies and gentlemen, The London United Charities welcome you to their fourteenth annual fund raising football match. The major sponsors of today's match, Granger Family Dental Clinics and Donovan and Sons Fisheries,. We thank you for your support and ask you to visit many of the local vendors at today's event. Your generosity will be appreciated. Now, let's introduce the starting lineup for today's match. For Donovan's Fisheries..."
The listened to the line-ups and positions of the team with fish on their orange jerseys.
"For the team in the blue jerseys, representing Team NovocaineNovacaine," causing the crowd to laugh, "pardon me, Granger Family Dental Clinics, at forward, Henry Parker, a hygienist at the 34th Street Clinic."
He waved at some cheering friends and the rest of the team was introduced. "At right midfield, Lady Hermione Granger, the youngest player in today's match..."
Ian and Elizabeth stood, cheered and chuckled at Hermione's introduction, her blush clearly seen from thirty meters away. She looked at her group of fans and closed her eyes when she spotted Ron. A team mate nudged her lightly and she nodded her head. The rest of the introductions were made and the match started. It started out slowly at first: this was a friendly match with a mix of male and female players and both teams needed to feel each other out. Hermione was soon recognized as one of the fastest players, and many times the Grangers stood and shouted "MAN ON HERMIONE, MAN ON!"
Hermione heard nothing of the crowd, focused on moving the ball down the field. It took Ron a while to figure out what was going on between the announcer and play on the field.
"It's a show by the forward Henry, service by Granger..."
"Look out folks, it's a sandwich on the winger..."
"Granger fights her way through the shoulder charges..."
There was a collective gasp from the crowd and shouts of objection when Hermione was hit by a sliding tackle from behind. She half flipped in the air and landed hard on her back.
"Oi, I thought this was supposed to be a friendly match!" Ron exclaimed.
A referee jogged to the scene and held up a yellow card. A team mate helped her to her feet. With a bloody knee and limping slightly, she took a position for a direct free kick and the first goal of the game was scored.
Hermione was limping when play resumed, so the coach yelled "SUB!" and the referee halted play. Hermione was replaced and the match resumed. She drank from her water bottle while the team medic cleaned and bandaged her scraped knees. She did a few neck rotations and pointed to a spot on her back where she hit the ground. She nodded her head and drank from the bottle again.
"...knocked the breath out of me," Ron could see her lips saying. She returned to play between the first and second quarter. She was a spitfire on the pitch, and got a bit of her own back by tackling the same player who had tackled her. She threw her hands up as if to say "Hey, what did I do?" like any decent football player would, and smirked at the opposing player when the yellow card was raised and flipped her ponytail behind her head.
"That's my girl!" Ian shouted.
"Think that midfielder is seeing anyone? She's bloody gorgeous," a man said a few seats down.
Harry patted Ron's shoulder and whispered, "Easy mate."
"A fit bird like that, 'course she is mate," another said.
"Never hurts to ask, does it?"
By the end of the match, Ron understood enough how the game was played and was cheering like everyone else. Hermione glanced to the stands from time to time and saw Ron cheering, pleased that he had showed today. After her abrupt dismissal last weekend, she wondered if and when she would see him again. Hermione was fouled three more times in attempts to slow her down, but she hung tough and the team scored six goals, one by her
on a penalty kick.
"MATCH OVER, TEAM NOVACAINENOVOCAINE WINS!"
The teams shook hands then celebrated with each other, hugging and high-fiving amongst each other. They walked from the pitch, too tired to jog.
Ian got to her first and tackled her in a hug. "You played wonderfully! It was so exciting!"
Hermione laughed and gently detached herself from him. "Easy Dad, I hurt."
"Great game Hermione, as good as Quid-" George started but was elbowed by Bill. "-that game with brooms," he finished.
"Yeah, fun wasn't it?" Hermione declared. She was sweating, dirty, panting, her eyes shining with excitement. To Ron, she never looked more beautiful. A man tapped her shoulder.
"Pardon my interruption, Lady Granger, might I have the honor of a few moments of your time?" he asked.
Hermione gave a single nod and they stepped a few feet away. They talked for a minute, the man removed a business card from his pocket, wrote something on the back and gave it back to Hermione with a small bow and parting kiss on the hand. On the way to the car, Hermione was stopped by no less than a dozen men making their introductions.
"All of you are invited to the house for lunch," Ian announced. "We not only won the match, but I think we raised a record amount of money for the charity."
"Can we leave? I'm filthy, tired and have no wish to receive another invitation to lunch," Hermione said in exasperation.
At home, Hermione excused herself to shower while Elizabeth readied lunch. While Ian was answering the seemingly non-stop telephone ringing, Bill insisted on helping her with lunch.
"Since my wife just had our baby, I'm doing a lot more around the house, I don't mind. It's the least I can do for the hostess for feeding our group," he said.
"When was your baby born?"
"May second, a girl."
"How precious, a newborn!
Hermione limped into the room, prompting Ron to jump from his seat and hold a chair for her.
"Thank you Ron," she said and slowly sat.
"Are you all right?" he asked. "It looked as if you took a beating today."
She waved his concern off. "That's how football is, I just went down hard on my back that first tackle. I'll be paying for it tomorrow," she said and took a gulp of water.
During lunch, she and Ron made polite conversation about the weather, the merits of honey-mustard versus regular mustard on the sandwiches, baby Victoire, and Ginny's pending NEWTs. When Hermione finished her lunch, she announced that she was tired and going to
rest.
"Of course, you played harder than anyone else out there today," Ron said.
"Of course I did." She gave him a small smile and left the dining room.
Ron woke the next day, his hopes for reconciliation renewed. Yesterday had been promising on the Hermione front. Her talk with him was friendly, well-a little too friendly in his opinion, as if he were someone she just met.
At least she wasn't apprehensive and dismissive as she had been last weekend. He would be patient, understanding and take whatever she would offer. What choice did he have? AsLike Bill said, she had possession of the quaffle. He bought a bouquet of daisies and wildflowers, (her favorite) a half-pound of rasberry fudge galleons, (her favorite sweet) and stopped at the apothecary for some pain-relief draught in case she needed it.
He arrived at the Grangers' and tentatively knocked on the back door. In the parlor, Ian and Elizabeth smiled at each other, then at Hermione napping on the sofa. Ian rose to answer the door and returned to the parlor with Ron, his eyes softening when he saw her on the sofa sleeping, one arm above her head, the other hanging off the sofa. Her lips pursed and she moaned softly in sleep.
"Good luck lad," Ian said, patted Ron's shoulder and the Grangers left the room. They were fond of Ron and were glad to see him not give up on him and Hermione. They knew that he made her feel happy and loved, despite the fallout, and that she loved him and thought he hung the moon. He was sincere in his desire for reconciliation, truly remorseful for the hurt he caused. She just had to get past the hurt and anger and again see in him what made her fall for him in the first place.
He sat down in a chair across from her and watched her sleep for a while then a football match on the telly caught his attention. Some where in the third quarter, a soft "How long have you been here?" startled him. He saw her looking at him with curious amusement.
"Not long," he said, reached across the table and placed the flowers, candy and draught on top. "For you."
She winced as she sat up, opened the bag of chocolates and popped one in her mouth.
"How bad do you hurt?" he asked.
She turned away from him and lifted her shirt slightly to show him her back. There was a huge bruise starting on her right shoulder blade that extended to her hip.
"That looks awful," he said.
"It looks worse than it feels, however, I will partake of this," she said and downed the pain draught in a single gulp. In seconds she sighed in relief and stood. "I'm hungry, care for lunch?"
"Let's go somewhere," he suggested. She shrugged. "Okay, there's a new place in town, we can go there."
She drove through town, humming to the music from the radio and pulled into a carpark next to a new restaurant called Johnny's. "Mum and Dad ate here when it first opened, said they have great fish and chips."
They took seats and ordered fish and chips. They made friendly chat, like yesterday.
"So, what did you think of the match yesterday?" she asked.
"I can see why it has such a big following. It's as exciting as Quidditch, and you're a good player," he said.
"One of the local women's amateur teams rang me last night and offered me a spot on their team," she said.
"Are you gonna to do it?"
"I'm thinking about it."
While they were eating, she stood and excused herself to the loo. Minutes later, Ron saw her leave the loo and start to cross the restaurant but was stopped by a man. They talked for a minute and she returned to the table.
"One of those blokes from yesterday," she said, rolled her eyes and continued eating.
Ron's thoughts swam with all the men who introduced themselves to her yesterday. Did she have any interest in any of them? Would she accept their offers of lunch or perhaps more?He choked on a chip, barely able stand the thought. He realized the chip was caught in his throat and tried to take a breath but was unable to do so. He desperately needed to take a breath but was unable tocould not. He slapped his chest and hunched over.
"Omigod, Ron, are you all right?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm.
He shook his head and put a hand to his throat while pounding on his chest with the other.
He's choking! she frantically thought and bolted from the chair. She stood behind him, wrapped her arms around him and performed the Heimlich maneuver. Because he was so much bigger than her, it took a few tries, but on the fourth thrust, the bit of potato came up and he gasped for breath, wheezing and coughing. The surrounding patrons clapped in approval, calling out "good show girl!" but she heard none of it.
His vision cleared and he looked at her. She was gripping his hand, looking at him anxiously, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
"I'm all right," he croaked.
On the way to the carpark, she stepped in front of him, putting her hand on his chest to stop him.
"I just want you to know that...Ron, I'm tired of fighting myself," she said. "I-I've missed you, more than I can say," she said, quickly wiping her eyes. "I can't sleep, you can't eat without choking..." she said and suddenly enveloped him with a hungry hug. "I just want us again."
They returned to his flat and simply talked until two in the morning.
The next day, Ginny received a letter from Hermione over her morning porridge. "Thanks Marron," she said and gave the owl a strip of bacon.
"What a cute owl," Kathy said. Ginny read the letter.
Gin-
I am happy to report that Ron and I are back together. More to come soon and as always, study hard for your NEWTs.
Love, Hermione