Chapter 09:
True to his promise, Oliver came at 4 to pick her up and felt his breath knock out of him. She was dressed in a plain white summer dress with a thin yellow cardigan thrown over it, her hair pulled back in a casual style, white kitten heels on her feet. She's beautiful he thought and looked into her eyes, they were a greenish mahogany today. So that's for nerves he smiled. "Ready to leave yet?" he asked when she reached the bottom step. She nodded meekly.
"We won't bite you, Hermione. Well, I might, but not in front of my parents, I promise," at that, she looked just about ready to throw up and he cursed his untimely attempt at terrible humour. Her eyes were almost green now. That's a beautiful colour to show her readiness to be sick he thought mirthlessly.
They both made their way to the apparition point, bracing themselves for the ordeal ahead.
!
They apparated straight to the jeweller in Diagon Alley where Oliver wanted to get the rings from. Hermione kept picking the smallest ones and Oliver chose the biggest ones out of pure spite.
"This won't work lass. We'll be here all night we if continue like this. Just please pick what you like already."
And she shut off on him. He fumed in his anger and threw at her, "Fine, in that case, you'll suffer my choice for the rest our lives, wearing it every single day on your hand!" and he stomped off looking all around the shop's display and speaking to one too many helpful salesgirls.
He doesn't even realize they're wishing he'd be buying them the ring! Hermione mused.
He went through almost all the different types of rings, stones, cuts and clarities and finally found the one for her. He just knew she'd love it when she'd see it. It was colourful and uniquely stylish, an understated beauty yet with a panache of its own. Just like her he thought and smiled. He picked it up and walked back to her with it. "It's this one lass. What do you think?" he asked a little excitement colouring his voice.
She looked up from where she was sitting reading her book that she had carried with her and her eyes widened. And he knew she liked it. It's simple and elegant, just something I would've picked up myself, she thought. It had three one carat stones – an emerald, a ruby and a sapphire and had six small diamonds, three on each end, all inset in a gold band.
"How much does it cost?"
"Not as much as I would've liked to it to cost. So just tell me now if you like this one or not?"
Her eyes turned all soft and she smiled at him, "I'm gonna talk you into accompanying me on all my shopping trips. You have an impeccable taste!" she said and pecked him on lips, "I love it. It's perfect."
They had it resized and packed immediately, when Hermione turned to Oliver, "Since we are here, can we get the wedding bands too? That shouldn't take too long."
He nodded. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"
"A plain gold band. To go with the other ring," she immediately replied, before he would try to push for something more.
He nodded. "Same for me. To go with yours." She smiled a little at that but said nothing.
They bought the bands too and Hermione fought it out with Oliver to pay for his. "Since you insist on me having your ring on my finger, I want the same."
He'd finally relented, knowing they'd never make it to dinner on time if he didn't, clucking at her obduracy in his mind.
They packed all three rings up and just when he was passing her the engagement ring, she shook her head.
"Oliver you wanted to buy me a ring, we did that. Please just give it to me when it means something," she requested.
"I'm gonna have my ring on your finger one way or another before this weekend passes," he promised and huffily picked the three packed boxes and he apparated them both with her on his arms.
!
The evening went on well. Once his mother had pulled her out of her shell, Hermione was a hit with both his parents, winning them over with her simplicity and honesty. She had happily let his mother have the entire control over their wedding preparations without so much as batting an eyelid in the process, winning the older witch's gratitude and instant affection. But Oliver had found it odd, too odd, to see a bride not too interested in her own wedding. He did not like the thoughts that were accompanying on the heels of that particular one. His father, on the other hand, was besotted with her quick wit and humour and asked her to call him 'da' immediately when even Oliver only ever called him 'father' or 'sir', nothing else.
The bigger shock had come when they were deciding their wedding date. His mother was insisting that they make it Thursday, knowing that the ministry rules would entitle Oliver for a leave on Friday giving them a long weekend to themselves after the wedding. And she was already having his hide for cheating his young bride out of a honeymoon immediately after the wedding. But surprisingly enough Hermione had come for his rescue on both those accounts.
"I don't think a day's delay would matter much to any of us but I'm sure it would mean the world to Oliver. He's just promoted to the post of Captain and it's gonna be a stressful come back after the war. I think it would make sense to make it Friday evening, maybe a couple of hours after his practice time? So that way he wouldn't feel like he's letting his team down for his personal reasons," Hermione elaborated and looked at Oliver for support who sat there stumped!
His parents were quiet for a few seconds too, then smiled and agreed. And that was their wedding day, three weeks from now, on Friday night at 8.
When asked about their honeymoon, she took the blame on herself saying she was giving her NEWTs in November and wouldn't consider going anywhere before those. Oliver openly stared at her and she just shrugged and when his parents got busy talking with each other she narrowed her eyes at him, mouthing "you owe me two Wood." That had him bursting with laughter, with Hermione sitting beside him biting her inner cheek and giving him looks of mock confusion that wondered if he'd lost it, making him laugh harder.
After dinner, while his mother was running things related with their wedding with her, he found himself sitting with his father at the bar and got the biggest shock of the evening when he received a 'you better take care of her or else' talk from his own father. His father specifically instructed him to reign in that 'ruddy temper' of his where she was concerned, insisting that Hermione was special and he would not like anyone harming her in anyway. Oliver found the entire situation too baffling to respond with anything other than a 'Yes sir, I'll take good care of her. I promise.'
!
As soon as they left the Wood Manor for the apparition point outside, Oliver turned to her, "So, I think that went well." Her smile lit the starless night and Oliver's breath caught in his throat. "They're amazing. Just like mine. If they ever get a chance to meet, they'll… they'll get along famously Oliver," she gushed, tears outlining her eyes. She still misses them so much he thought, bringing her close to him, for a warm hug, wiping her tears away. "I'm sure they will lass," he whispered and gave a comforting kiss on her lips. She smiled weakly and nodded.
"Now," he said after a few minutes of silence, "tell me why you aren't too keen on planning your own wedding?"
She just shrugged. "I've never been that sort of girl who planned my wedding since my childhood. My parents are more of academics, so I was brought up that way. And your mum seemed to have dreamed of your wedding since you were 10! So I figured it would make sense to let her have her dream. Are you unhappy about it?" She winced, "You are, aren't you? I should have checked with you before accepting her offer. I'm sorry…"
He furrowed his brows at her. "What did I tell you apologizing? And no, I'm not unhappy. I was just curious. The usual stories I've heard are of brides going mad stressing about the tiniest of things and never of someone who'd freely handed over the reins of the most important day of their life over to someone else, someone they had just met no less."
"Yeah…. I'm not really your every other girl. Weren't you informed? I'm Hermione Granger. Apparently, I take exceptional joy in doing the most unconventional and controversial of all things," she winked, eyes a luring caramel.
He threw his head back and laughed. "You'll do Granger. I look forward to sharing my life with you," he said without stopping to filter his thoughts and that rooted her to the spot, she then visibly shook herself out of her stupor. He saw her reaction but didn't say anything. He may not have filtered his thoughts before speaking but he stood by his words. He was looking forward to having her in his life. For whatever reasons, if she was his match, he was going to make it work with her. Simple!
"Ditto," she whispered softly and continued their walk. He heard, lips crinkling but he let it pass, not commenting on it.
"I've been curious about something Wood. Explain. Why is it that you always floo when you're alone but apparate when with me? I like the floo just fine you know…"
He smiled. She'd noticed that. He didn't know if he'd even expected her not to. She was the brightest witch of their age after all. He stopped and turned to face her. "Because this is the only time I get to do this," Oliver said and brought her face up for a searing kiss. "I see you way too less for my liking anyway, so I like to have these few quiet minutes for us," he said after the kiss and held her hand in his. "But now, we aren't apparating." There was no sound for all of five seconds before she popped her eyes open to their full extent, shaking her head, "No. No. No. No. No."
Oliver just resized his broom, picked her up and sat her with both her legs perched on the same side of it before joining her there from behind, securing her between his hands and legs. "You said yourself. You're Hermione Granger. There shouldn't be a thing you don't know. And you're gonna be a Wood soon. You need to know how to fly decently. I won't let your fear inhibit you. Ever." He said with all sincerity and got the broom to fly.
"Why are you even doing this Oliver? It's all a wasted effort, I'm not meant to learn flying, I've made my peace with it, you should too."
"No way. No wife of mine will be that big a disaster on the broom," he cringed as the flashes of her prowess on the broom flashed in front of his eyes.
"Just let this one go, Oliver, I'll never trouble you about anything ever, just take me back to the ground, please," she begged, burying her face in his chest again.
Having her rant again and bury herself deep in his chest had him craving for her and he just couldn't control himself any more. He pushed at her chin with his forefinger and brought her face up to look at him. She had sealed her eyes shut out of fear. He smiled to himself, then bent in to kiss her again. When he finally let her lips go, he saw her dazed face and promptly used it in his favour, whispering, "We've got this lass, let me help you, we can do it. I promise." She didn't reply. Instead sat frozen in front of him, eyes scrunched shut and face hidden in his chest, crumpling the collar of his shirt with both her hands. At least she was not thinking too many erratic thoughts tonight he mused, wrapping his free arm around her, running it up and down on her side and kissing the top of the head, navigating them to the Burrow. Much like the last time, she darted out the minute her feet touched the ground, without so much as a backward glance. Oliver waited until she entered the homestead before miniaturizing his broom and apparating back to his place with a crack.
Oh, I am so gonna teach her to fly Oliver promised to himself.