CHAPTER TEN
Summary: With the War finally won and a rapid decline in the wizarding population, drastic measures are taken in a bid to save Wizarding Britain with the introduction of a new Marriage Law. Under the law, Hermione is forced to marry at eighteen or face being exiled from the Wizarding World. She must learn to deal with her past and look forward to her future with rising Quidditch Star, Oliver Wood. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: All original characters and canon events belong to J.K. Rowling. Non-canon events and characters are my own. I am not making any profit from posting this fanfic. Characters are likely to be OOC.
Updated: 01/09/19
Page count: 23
Wood Apartment - Saturday 11th July 1998
Oliver woke up to find that Hermione wasn't in bed beside him and neither was Quaffle, but he wasn't surprised after the revelations of her past yet it didn't stop a small frown from appearing on his face. After climbing out of bed he headed for the kitchen, where he found his breakfast waiting for him on the table and at the sight, a smile pulled at his mouth.
He sat down to eat and he allowed himself to fully process everything he'd learned earlier that morning. He couldn't believe that Hermione had been through all of that, and while she may have had her friends by her side, she'd still been alone. She'd had to learn to handle the stress of war at such a young age, and how to handle the aftermath. She'd been taking care of others for so long, that it was now time for someone to take care of her. It was his turn to show her she could have a peaceful and happy future, because somehow he knew he would have a happy life with Hermione, a difficult, but happy one.
He was usually the shag 'em and leave 'em type, but with Hermione, it would be different and not just because he was marrying her, but because he genuinely cared for her and he cared what she thought of him. He was falling for her, he realised, but he thought it odd given the short time frame.
He found that he looked forward to the mornings when she would have breakfast made and she would smile at him greeting and they'd chat and laugh over breakfast and he always looked forward to the goodbye kisses to the cheek. He looked forward to the bright smiles she gave him when she returned from work and the times when she'd allow him to kiss her or touch her. He wanted a future with her and seeing as he'd never felt that way about another woman before, it scared him.
~000~000~000~
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes
Something was different about Hermione. That was the first thing Fred and George thought when they saw her. They had been watching her all morning; her laugh seemed carefree, her smile wider and her eyes brighter. She held herself with more confidence and she walked as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
Knowing that something had definitely happened to cause those changes, Fred and George shared a looked before heading over to the counter where Hermione stood waiting to serve the customers.
"Mia?" They asked together.
"Yes, my red-headed demonic twins," she replied and they both snorted.
"What happened, you look different?" Fred questioned cautiously.
Hermione shrugged in response, her voice being emotionless. "You blocked off the floo."
"We're sorry," George said sincerely, "But we thought it best that Oliver had chance to be the one to comfort you given your soon to be marriage."
"He knows," she said.
"He knows?" They echoed, their surprise evident on their faces and in their voice.
"I told him this morning after he broke down my defences."
"Everything?" Feed
"No, not everything, just about the last few years and what happened to my parents. I wasn't emotionally ready to tell him anything else."
Fred and George's eyes were drawn to each other and after sharing a nod they turned back to her.
"Say, why don't you visit Oliver at the stadium for lunch?" George offered.
"And while you're at it, take the rest of the day off, too," Fred added.
"But I can't," she protested.
"'Course you can; it's a Saturday so we close up early anyway, we're ahead of schedule for the stock in the back and we've got the shop floor covered. Take the rest of the day off."
"What about Quaffle?" She questioned.
"Take him with you, if he's not allowed into the stadium just send for us and we'll come pick him up," Fred shrugged his shoulders. "What do you say Quaffle? Do you wanna go and see ya daddy?" He asked, looking down at the large puppy and he barked excitedly in response, pulling amused laughs from them.
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium
Hermione floo'd to the Puddlemere United Stadium and as she stepped out of the fireplace, she found her way down a long corridor, her eyes scanning her surroundings as she did so, the walls being occupied by large hall of fame Quidditch jerseys from previous players throughout the years. When she reached the end of the corridor, she came into a large open space that had a rounded off section where the reception area was housed. The floor was made of white marble and the walls were white with a thick horizontal Puddlemere blue stripe in the centre of the wall and a smaller horizontal yellow stripe just above it. The walls were lined with the Quidditch jerseys and moving photos of the current Puddlemere United team and Hermione couldn't stop the snort of amusement when she caught sight of Oliver's photo, in which he was beaming a dazzling smile that was sure to melt the hearts of his fans.
As Hermione approached the reception desk and her footsteps brought attention to her presence, the receptionist looked at Hermione appraisingly before noticing Quaffle by her side, and just when Hermione thought she was going to be told that dogs weren't allowed in the building, the receptionist's eyes widened and she froze in her seat.
"You're Hermione Granger," the blonde-haired, greened eyed witch muttered.
Hermione gave a tolerant smile. "Yes I am. I was wondering if I could please see Oliver Wood."
"I..." She cleared her throat. "Of course, Miss. Granger, I'll inform him of your arrival."
"Thank you, just tell him that Sparrow is here please," Hermione said.
The receptionist got up from her chair and walked towards the large glass windows that looked out over the pitch and stands and she walked through the door, down the stands of the coach's box and to the Coach who looked more than a little frazzled. He was currently pacing back and forth, flipping through a clipboard and running his hand through his hair. It was clear he was stressed but she couldn't blame him since the match was on Wednesday and not only would it be their first match since the war, but it was the first match of the league cup.
"Coach Burton, Sir," the receptionist said anxiously; she hated interrupting him during training, but it was Hermione-Bloody-Granger that was waiting at her desk.
"What?" He said briskly, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard.
"Mr. Wood has a visitor, Sir; she said to tell him it was Sparrow."
Coach Burton sighed in annoyance before lifting his head to look the large clock above the stands, seeing there was only ten minutes until one o'clock.
"Send them down," he said and the receptionist nodded, and swiftly walked up the stands and back into the building.
"WOOD! YOU HAVE A VISITOR! YOU ALL MAY AS WELL GO FOR LUNCH!" He yelled to the players on the pitch.
"Who is it?" Oliver asked after flying back down to the coach's box and dismounting his broom.
"Collins said it was someone named Sparrow."
Oliver's eyes quickly flickered to the stands in anticipation; she was going to meet the team and he couldn't wait to wipe the smug smirks off their faces. He hadn't revealed anything about Hermione since the day of the pairing and he'd been under the constant teasing of his teammates, but they were going to get the shock of their lives. Meeting his teammates also came with the unfortunate task of meeting the wives and girlfriends, and Oliver could honestly say he didn't like a single one of them as he thought them all to be rudely offensive and obnoxious. They were like vultures around a dead carcass, but he was more than confident that Hermione could hold her own against them so he wasn't worried.
His teammates had noticed the movement of his eyes and mistook it for panic, smirks pulling at their faces.
"So, we're finally gunna meet the future Mrs. Wood then?" Pallie said, looking as though he'd just won the league cup.
"I can't wait to meet this unattractive bookworm of yours," Malloy said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
Oliver tried to stop it but a small smirk twitched at his mouth and seeing the action, Coach Burton raised a curious eyebrow.
~000~000~000~
Several minutes later the receptionist returned and she looked to Hermione. "You may go down Miss. Granger," she informed her.
Hermione smiled in thanks before looking down to her large puppy. "You wait here, I'll whistle when you can come down, okay?"
Quaffle barked in response and she scratched behind his ears before heading for the doors and walking down the stands. She kept her head down to watch where she was walking so she didn't slip or trip, and doing one last check of making sure she looked presentable, not wanting to embarrass Oliver by having ink or stains from brewing potions on her clothing.
That day she was white converse on her feet, a pair of black shorts and Fred's old Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, it having '21' on the back rather than George's '12.' The jersey itself was too big on her and she'd folded the sleeves to better fit her but she'd allowed the jersey to fall to her mid-thigh, it covering her shorts and looking more like a dress on her. She had her hair pulled back from her face in an half-up half-down style with her curls hanging down her back.
As if feeling all the stares on her as she neared Oliver, she looked up and came to a stop, frozen, as everyone stared at her in complete surprise and muttered words of curses sounded in the otherwise silence.
"Hermione Granger?" Malloy questioned in surprise, his voice rising slightly.
"She's beautiful," Pallie whispered with wide eyes.
Clearing her throat, Hermione continued to approach them. "Why are you so surprised? I mean, I know I don't look particularly pretty but I didn't think I was that bad," she said, looking down at herself with a slight frown.
Oliver frowned; she was always so self-critical but he had every intention of changing that, of getting her to herself the way he saw her, he just knew he had to be patient.
"Yer beautiful, ye jus' don' see it," Oliver said seriously.
"Let's agree to disagree, shall we?"
Oliver let the subject drop as he didn't want to argue with her; mainly because he was sure he'd lose and likely get hexed, too.
"Yer wearing the wrong jersey," Oliver observed.
"Oh right, sorry. I forgot I should probably support my favourite team whilst I'm here," she replied.
She pulled her wand from the waistband of her shorts and she transfigured it into a Chudley Cannons jersey. Oliver scowled, Hermione laughed at him and Coach Burton watched the two interact with silent amusement.
"What? The cannons are my favourite team," she said innocently before transfiguring it into a Puddlemere United jersey.
Oliver's scowl disappeared and he motioned for her to turn around. She did so and pulled her hair over her shoulder, giving him a view of the back of it, it saying 'Pallie, 33'. The team started laughing at Oliver's expression of disbelief.
A smile pulling at her mouth, Hermione took pity on him and transfigured it say 'Wood, 32' and Oliver smiled happily at the sight. He had to admit that she looked good in his jersey, but she would look better in one of his and not a transfigured one that would wear off in a few hours. She would definitely look better in his jersey after having...He shook his head.
"Better?"
"Better, so what are ye doin' here?" He asked curiously.
"The twins gave me the afternoon off and I'd thought I'd bring you lunch since you complain about the cafeteria food so much, but if you want me to leave..." She trailed off and made as if to turn and leave and Oliver shook his head, smiling slightly.
Given that he'd been in a foul mood all morning as training hadn't been going well, his teammates found it amusing that he hadn't stopped smiling since Hermione had arrived.
"I made enough for the team, but I didn't know they'd be here," she motioned to the wives and girlfriends in the family box.
Oliver snorted. "As amazing as yer cooking is, a'm pritty sure they jus' had lunch at a five-star restaurant."
"They had lobster, we're having fish finger sandwiches," she replied, opening her beaded bag, putting her hand in and drawing out the bag of food.
"Is it edible?" He asked, looking to the brown paper bag cautiously.
"Has my food let you down yet?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Naw," he admitted, shaking his head. She nodded, satisfied."Where's Quaffle? Did ye leave him with the twins?"
"Nope," she answered, popping the 'p', and she towards the stands, brought a hand up to her mouth and whistled loudly.
Loud, excited barking could be heard as the large puppy barrelled out of the doors, ran down the stands, almost falling in the process, and he ran straight past Hermione and jumped up at Oliver. He chuckled and bent to pick him, scratching behind his ears as Quaffle licked his cheek.
"A'm surprised Collins let him in the building," Oliver commented.
"The receptionist?" She asked and he nodded. "I think she was going to say something but then realised who I was and kept quiet."
Oliver snorted. "Probably from fear af receiving a hex from ye."
"I wouldn't do that," Hermione responded.
"Ye hexed mae on our first date," he argued and his teammates, who hadn't taken their eyes of them, blinked in surprise and amusement at that revelation.
"Yeah, I did," she agreed with a laugh. "But you asked me to so you can't complain."
"She hexed you?" Pallie asked surprised, drawing attention to himself.
Oliver turned back to the team, only just remembering that they were there and he shook his head. "Aye, a suppose introductions are in order. Hermione, this is Jack..."
"Pallie, starting chaser, been with Puddlemere for six years and starting chaser for four. You are the highest scoring chaser in the league and have been for the past three years and you have a ratio of 4:1, meaning that for every five times you enter the scoring zone, you score four times and miss once. By the way, were you aware that you tend to favour the left hoop?"
They all stared at her, stunned by words and Oliver felt his head spin.
"Hoo did ye know tha'?" Oliver asked, putting Quaffle down on the floor and he sat obediently by their sides.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I know a lot about Quidditch."
"An' ye let me talk aboot it fer hours?"
"It wasn't my fault that you assumed I knew nothing about the sport, and anyway, it was sweet that you wanted me to learn about the profession that you love so much. I wasn't going to stop you; I don't think I've seen you so happy in the time I've known you," she spoke, her cheeks colouring at the intense gaze he was sending her way.
"Me, do me next..."
Hermione cleared her throat, being grateful for the distraction. "Grady Thompson, starting seeker, you've been with Puddlemere for five years, you were reserve seeker for only two and you're ranked seventh for the league's best seeker. And you also have an average of catching the snitch in approximately three and a half hours."
"I didn't even know that," Coach Burton said, looking at Hermione with a curious crinkle in his forehead.
"And you're Coach Burton, but everyone knows who you are, you need no introduction."
He chuckled at her and stepped closed to shake her hand and she smiled at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Granger. I dare say you need no introduction either," he replied, her cheeks darkening slightly and Oliver chuckled. "Tell me, what else have you noticed?" Coach Burton asked with a quill in hand, poised and ready to take down notes.
Hermione smiled at him before opening her bag and removing a muggle pen. "Here, use this instead," she handed him the pen and he looked at it confused. "It's basically a self-inking quill but without the mess."
"Thanks, now the team, tell me," he demanded.
"Coach, cannae this wait until after lunch?" Oliver asked.
"Oh right, lunch, of course. You're staying, right?"
"If you would like me to I can," Hermione nodded.
"You're staying," he ordered and the team rolled their eyes at him.
Hermione handed him a sandwich, an apple and a cereal bar and he looked at them strangely before shrugging and walking back to his office. She handed everyone else a sandwich, apple and cereal bar, too, and Oliver guided her over to the railing and they sat down on the floor, facing each other with their legs crossed and Quaffle sitting next to them. The team took their lunch and sat down in the stands, their eyes watching the soon to be married couple carefully.
"I can't believe he's marrying Hermione Granger," Thompson muttered.
"I can't believe he kept it from us, Bishop spoke, annoyed.
"How'd he get so lucky?" Malloy asked.
"Don't know, but whatever he did, I want to know his secret," Pallie muttered.
"We're all either engaged or married," Briggs pointed out. "And if we break off the engagements, we'll be eligible for the marriage law and we'll be matched by the Ministry."
"Seems to have worked out for Wood, lucky bastard," McGee said. "She's obviously not a galleon digger, look at the way she's dressed compared to them, " he pointed in the direction of the family box where their other halves were sitting, bringing note to their expensive, tight and far from appropriate clothing and heels.
"And she's naturally beautiful," Kelsy piped up. "I don't think I've ever seen Gina without any makeup on," he said and they nodded in agreement.
"She's wearing his jersey for Merlin's Sake, I've never seen Jenny wear mine," Thompson spoke. "Apparently, it's not ladylike to parade around in men's clothing," he said, making a face and they snorted at him, but were in agreement; none of their partners would wear their jerseys either.
"He's smitten with her," Kings observed. "I've never seen him smile that much, or at all. In fact, he only smiles for the camera. He's falling for her, anyone can see that."
"Lucky bastard," Martin muttered.
Whilst Hermione and Oliver were being closely watched by the team, she and Oliver were eating their lunch, quietly and comfortably conversing.
"So, why dinnae ye tell mae tha' ye knew so much aboot Quidditch? A don' know Pallie's player statistics an' a dinnae notice tha' he prefers the left hoop, an' am the bloody keeper. An' a definitely dinnae know tha' Thompson catches the snitch three an' a half hours intae a game," he spoke, sounding impressed and she smiled at him.
"I suppose I didn't tell you because I didn't want to take it away from you. Quidditch is your passion and I didn't want to steal your thunder, so to speak. It's like me with books," she shrugged and his smile softened.
"Alright then, question time. What was yer most treasured item as a child?" Oliver asked her. "An' it cannae be books," he added, chuckling when she scowled.
"It was my teddy bear, Harold. He was a white fluffy bunny rabbit with pink fluffy ears, pink fluffy feet and a pink fluffy stomach and he had two big googly eyes that scared the hell out of my roommates when I brought him to Hogwarts with me." Oliver burst out laughing and he clutched his ribs, Hermione all but giggling at him. "Hey, don't laugh at my Harold."
"Am sorry, a couldn't help it," he said, calming himself down. "Mine was..."
"If you say your broom I will hex you," she warned teasingly.
He chuckled. "It was a blanket. It was soft an' blue an' had me name written on it. A took it everywhere with mae until a was about eight an' then me da took it aff mae, but what he doesn't know is a found his hiding place an; stole it back."
She laughed at him. "Oliver Wood, a thief? I didn't see that one coming."
"Can ye really steal somethin' tha' belongs tae ye?" He asked amused and she looked at him thoughtfully.
"My turn, what's your fondest memory as a child?"
"Easy, gettin' me first broom an' I was finally allowed tae play Quidditch. Yers?"
"I was eight and my mum and I were baking in the kitchen and my dad attempted to help. Somehow the room ended up being covered in flour, water and eggshells and there was cookie mix stuck to the ceiling. My dad slipped on some water that was on the floor and he fell flat on his back. When he fell he tried to grab the counter to pull himself up, instead he grabbed the cookie tray and the tray went flying through the air and the cookie mix left the tray, flew through the air and then hit my dad in the face," she laughed and Oliver laughed loudly. Her smile and laughter suddenly died down and she looked sad before she shook her head and her smile returned. "Your turn,"
"What are ye afraid af?" He asked her daringly.
He had a list of them thanks to Fred and George but he hadn't looked at them because he wanted to learn them from her himself, he wanted her to be able to trust him enough that she felt comfortable to share such things. And besides, he was sure she hadn't told the twins everything and she was keeping things even from them no matter how close they'd grown.
"I don't think we should have that conversation here," she muttered.
"This is as good a place as any," he replied, reaching over and taking one of her hands in his as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles.
"You go first," she said, looking to be afraid of admitting any form of weakness to him.
"Alright, am afraid af failing as Captain an' am afraid af gettin' tae badly injured tha' a won't be able ta play Quidditch again," he admitted. "An' am afraid af muggle girls," he joked and he smiled when she laughed.
"You won't fail as Captain," she promised him. "You have the drive, passion, motivation and determination this team needs to get back in the league and win it," she said softly and he smiled. "And as for being afraid of getting injured, I'm rather certain that's every Quidditch player's fear. I've lost count of how many injuries Harry, Ginny, Ron and the twins have had over the years. Combined I think it's somewhere in the sixties, probably even more as I stopped counting when I reached the fifty mark."
He shook his head with a chuckle. "It's yer turn tae answer," he reminded her softly, reaching to take her other hand in his and running his thumb over the back of it, tracing patterns and circles comfortingly.
She took a deep breath. "You may not think it, being as I'm The Hermione Granger, but I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of the people I love dying. I'm afraid that Voldemort will come back, trust me when I say it is not possible, but that doesn't mean I'm not afraid of it happening. I'm afraid of clowns because those buggers are scary," she said. He didn't know what clowns were but he chuckled. "I'm afraid of the dark because I don't know what's hidden from my sight, I'm afraid of putting my family in danger because of who I am. And although I won't admit it to the twins, someone is going to eventually make good on those death threats and attempt to kill me, or they'll go after my family to hurt me."
"All those fear are perfectly understandable, well except clowns 'coz a have naw idea what they are," he said, looking a little confused and her mouth pulled into a little smile. "But after ev'rything yer've been through, it's reasonable fer ye tae be afraid af those things. Over time they'll lessen an' ye'll conquer yer fears," he said confidently. She smiled at him softly and he smiled widely; he loved it when she smiled at him like that.
"I hope you're right," she spoke quietly, looking down at their joined hands.
"A've been meaning tae ask yea, what are ye gunna do after ye get yer NEWTs?"
"I've been thinking for a while now and I haven't been able to decide on what I want to do. I originally wanted to work for the Ministry in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures"
"But now?"
"I don't think I can ever forget how corrupt the Ministry was and I know that Kingsley will do wonders whilst in office, but the scars are still fresh."
"So what do ye want tae do?"
"I'm not sure, I don't want to leave the joke shop as the boys are making so much progress and I want to see them grow and continue to succeed, and now they're looking into buying a property in Hogsmeade. As much as I love my job and I love being there, I can't stay forever. I need to find something that's just for me. I think I'll slowly cut my hours back until I'm no longer working there as I can't just leave them. But I think I may have an idea."
"An' tha' is?" He asked curiously.
"It's just a thought and it doesn't mean I'm going to do it, it will probably get a lot of backlash."
"Well if yer've thought aboot it a wanna hear what this idea is."
"Fred and George mentioned something a couple of weeks ago; they reckon I could write a book."
Oliver looked thoughtful and he nodded slowly; it definitely suited her. "Aboot what?" He asked intrigued.
"If I can tell you about my past, then I can tell my family. And if I can tell my family, then I can tell the world. I think that it will help me to deal with everything that's happened, knowing that generations to come will learn about the war we fought so they could have a happy and free life. People should know the sacrifices that were made in order to secure their freedom. They should know about 'The-boy-Who-Lived', the Muggleborn who was 'The Brightest Witch' and the redhead that was the ultimate blood traitor. They should know about the innocent fugitive that broke out of one of the most heavily guarded prisons in order to protect his Godson, The Order of the Phoenix, the brave witches and witches that died, the potions master who was a spy, the free elf that gave his life and the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen."
Oliver smiled softly as she spoke passionately about her reasons as to why she wished to write a book. He knew that she had found what she wanted to do even if she hadn't decided on it yet.
"I imagine if I do write about the war I'll have to write seven books, one for every year we spent fighting. I'll mention the Horcruxes but won't talk about the nature of them or how to create one. I'll probably just say that he had objects that gave him immortality and they had to be destroyed before he could be killed. And I definitely won't mention the Deathly Hallows; we don't want people to go searching for them."
Oliver smiled at her. "A think yer've jus' found what ye want tae do with yer life," he commented and she looked at him confused. "Trust ma, bein' a writer is what ye want tae do an' ye'll be brilliant at it. Jus' think in years tae come, Hogwarts' students will be reading yer books as part af the curriculum fer history of magic, ye'll definitely make it a lot more interest an' the students may even stay awake in class," he said and she laughed, giving her head a light shake.
"You think I should do it?"
"A think ye should do it," he nodded in confirmation. "Writing doon yer past may even help ye come tae terms with it an' give ye the courage tae tell yer family. But doin' it may take ye a while."
"Not really," she shook her head. "Since I couldn't talk to Harry and Ron I wrote everything down. I have a box of journals in my room; I think there are three for every year. All I would have to do is edit them and then expand on it a little more, but I have the basics of each year written and I've just realised that when you asked what my fears were, I missed one."
"Ye did? What?"
"Flying,"
"Yer afraid af fly..." Oliver's voice rose in surprise and he cut off when Hermione removed a hand from his and slapped it over his mouth.
They had attracted attention, well the team was already watching them, but they were curious to know what they were talking about giving Oliver and Hermione's reactions.
"Yes, I'm afraid of flying," she glared at him in warning and he nodded. When she was sure he wasn't going to yell, she removed her hand from his mouth.
"Hoo can ye be afraid af flying? Ye flew on a thestral an' a dragon."
"Exactly, I flew a thestral and a dragon and it was terrifying. I thought I was going to die and I already had a fear of flying from a bad experience in my first year flying lessons."
He frowned thoughtfully. "Am gunna teach ye hoo tae fly," he nodded to himself, pleased with his decision.
"No, you're not," she scoffed.
"Aye, a am,"
"Nope," she popped the 'p'.
"Aye, a am" he repeated.
"Not a chance in hell. You'll have a better chance of getting Fred and George to give up the joke shop and find a job at the Ministry."
"Am teaching ye tae fly," he said stubbornly.
"No,"
"What are ye actually afraid af? It cannae be the heights or speed since ye loved those roller coaster things so much, so what is it?"
"It's not the heights, speed or even flying in general, it's the whole plummeting to the ground from two hundred feet in the air thing. I used to clean my parents' living room with a bloody broom. Going from one thing to another is hard."
"We can deal with tha', a'll help ye get over yer fear."
"Not going to happen,"
"We'll see," Oliver smirked and she narrowed her eyes at him.
"Alright, lunch is over, back to work!" They heard Coach Burton yell, signalling the end of their lunch break and Hermione heard groaning from the other team members.
Hermione cleared away the food and she and Oliver stood up and slowly made their way over to Coach Burton with Quaffle following by their sides.
"Do ye wanna go shopping tanight? We can get some decorating done tomorrow if we get the supplies," Oliver asked.
"We can go tonight," she nodded in agreement.
"Why aren't we jus' using magic?"
"There's no fun in decorating with magic, you've got to do it the muggle way," she insisted.
He shook his head amused. "Are ye gonna tell mae what ye have planned fer the twa empty rooms?"
"No, it's a surprise, but I've only figured out what to do with one of the rooms, I'm not sure on what we can do with the other one yet."
"A need tae go shopping fer rings as well," he mentioned.
Hermione stopped walking and looked at him, before she continued on her path. "You don't need to go shopping for rings," she told him.
"What? Ye don' want an engagement ring? Why?" he asked confused and drawing the attention of the team as they grew closer to reaching them.
"I don't care for material possessions; you should know that by now. I don't want an engagement ring because this isn't a conventional marriage, we're being forced into this and you shouldn't have to waste your hard-earned money on something that you only wish to buy out of obligation, and on something that I don't need," she answered, missing his frown as they came to a stop beside the rest of his teammates.
"When I proposed to Hannah, she made me take the ring back because it wasn't big enough," Wilks muttered and the team nodded knowingly.
"And I don't need a wedding ring because the Ministry provides them," Hermione explained.
"What? Why? Hoo do ye know tha'?" Oliver asked.
"Mr. Weasly told me. They give us rings so they can track if we're following the rules of the marriage law, they have them charmed to ensure we're complying with their orders and carrying out our marital duties."
"You're going to be tracked?" Thompson asked in surprise and Hermione turned to look at them, nodding with a less than pleased look on her face.
"There are rules to our marriage. I have to be pregnant in a year's time and unless either one of us if proven to be infertile, we face time in Azkaban or exile from the Wizarding World."
"Are you being serious?" Pallie questioned looking horrified.
"Afraid so, we'll be getting regular checkups from the Ministry as well to see how our marriage is fairing," she answered, rolling her eyes and the team looked stunned. "Shouldn't you be training, you've got a match in four days."
"You heard the lady, back to work," Coach Burton said, wrapping his knuckles against the back of his clipboard.
Oliver shook his head, picked up his broom and he flew onto the pitch with the rest of the team following behind him.
"Oi, Wood! Why didn't you tell us that you're marrying Hermione Granger?" Wilks asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "She's more famous than a am; our marriage is gunna be put on a pedestal by the Ministry. She already get's ambushed when she goes out in public, it's at the point where she cannae leave her flat alone unless she glamours herself. An' a thought it would be funny tae see the looks on yer faces when ye met her, given the fact tha' ye assumed she wouldn't be beautiful."
"You're one lucky bastard, you know that right?" Kings spoke and Oliver nodded.
"Anno an' a don'' honestly know what a did tae deserve her," he said, his eyes darting down to the figures of Coach Burton and Hermione, a smile pulling at his face. "No one deserves her," he muttered and the team all shared a look of amusement; he was definitely besotted with her.
Before Coach Burton was given the chance to yell at them, they all flew off to their posts and began running the drills they had been given that morning.
"So, Miss. Granger..."
"Oh, just call me Hermione, Miss. Granger makes me feel old," she said and he chuckled at her.
"Hermione, what else can you tell me about the team?" He asked with the muggle pen she gave him in hand and a clipboard, ready to take down notes.
"How much time do you have?"
"You are never leaving," he said and she chuckled at him.
"Well first off, I've noticed that the chasers don't seem to be on the same wavelength, they're not in sync and their movements aren't smooth and effortless; they're actually kind of sloppy. I imagine that problem has only worsened with there being no Quidditch or training due to the war." He nodded and wrote it down. "It's the same with your beaters, they're not in sync and they could work on their aim as well. Your seekers need to be more observant, the number of times they've missed being hit by a bludger by the skin of their teeth is alarming. They think that because they're above the game, they're invincible but they're not. They're at just as much risk since the seeker is the one that ends the game and is more than likely the one to pull a win out of the bag."
"What?" He asked, his facial expression turning from concentrated into a frown of confusion.
"Sorry, muggle saying. I mean that if you're one-hundred and forty points behind for the win, the seeker is the one you count on to secure the win by catching the snitch, which means they are more likely to be a target, especially when they're chasing after the snitch."
He nodded, scribbling away at his clipboard. "Got it, anything else?"
"Well, I think you should get some new equipment and practice robes, the chasers are dropping the quaffle a lot and I think it's because their gloves are worn and they're losing their grip, that's also dangerous because they may lose their grip on their broom and fall. Their practice robes are restricting their movements and I imagine that their game robes do the same as well, so you should maybe get a new design made up; something that is lightweight and stretches to allow movement." He looked at her in surprise. "In fact, I'll do it for you, I'll make some designs up and have them sent off and made. I have some connections with people that can help me out for a discount. The practice robes can be a tester and if you like them and they work as they should, I'll have the game robes made up the same."
"Do you have a job?" He asked, hopeful that she didn't.
"I work at my brother's joke shop. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but I'm cutting back my hours soon so I can start studying for my NEWTs and then I think I'm going to write a book."
His face fell. "Do you think you'll have time to help me out here?"
"I don't see how I can be of any help to you."
"Trust me, you'll be exceptionally helpful."
"Well seeing as you asked so nicely, I'll see what I can do and I'll talk to Oliver about it."
"Make sure that you do," he said gleefully.
"Coach, you may want to call a foul," she said, pointing to the players above them.
He blew his whistle without thinking. "FOUL!" he yelled and the team all stopped what they were doing and looked down at them.
"WHAT FER?" Oliver yelled confused; he hadn't seen anyone commit a foul.
Coach Burton turned to look at Hermione. "What for?" He asked bemused.
"Malloy, he was going to blatch Bishop," she explained.
"MALLOY FOR BLATCHING!" He repeated.
Malloy was stunned. "HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS GOING TO BLATCH?"
He turned back to Hermione. "How did you know?" Coach Burton asked Hermione in surprise and she chuckled.
"When you spent five years watching Fred and George Weasley playing Quidditch, you learn to observe carefully. If I can spot when they're going to foul then I can spot when anyone is going to foul."
"YOU WEREN'T SUBTLE ENOUGH, NOW GET BACK TO WORK AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TRYING TO FOUL. YOU'LL BE DOING FIVE HUNDRED LAPS IF YOU DO!" He yelled up at the players before turning back to her. "Did Merlin himself send you?" Coach asked and Hermione chuckled.
"No, just two demonic red-headed twins," she answered.
They continued for a little while with Hermione telling Coach Burton the team's weaknesses and him writing them down eagerly, and discussing possible fixtures for said weaknesses.
"I'll be right back, keep an eye on them for me," he instructed. She nodded and Coach Burton left and walked up the stands and into the building.
Hermione leaned forward against the railing, watching the team train above her and she looked down at Quaffle and chuckled. He was laid on his back with his legs in the air and his head to the side with his tongue lolling out and he was snoring.
She heard footsteps echoing against the ground and she turned to see six women walking towards her in tight and revealing dresses, very tall heels that she didn't even know how they'd managed to walk in them, and enough makeup to put a clown to shame. She stood up straight and waited for them to approach her and she turned around when she heard a throat clearing.
"Charming," a blonde with blue eyes said sarcastically, looking down at Quaffle in disgust.
"He really his," Hermione smiled down at her puppy, ignoring her comment.
"You're Hermione Granger," she said as she looked her up and down appraisingly before she lifted her nose up in the air a little and Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Yes, I am, it's nice to meet you, and you are?" She held her hand out; the blonde looked down at it before she reluctantly shook it.
"I'm Melanie, I'm engaged to Ben Malloy," she spoke with a tone of superiority and when she pulled her hand away from Hermione's, she wiped her hand on her dress, much to her amusement. She had cooties now? That was a new one.
"And the rest of these ladies?" Hermione enquired politely, and introductions were given.
She learned that Megan was engaged to Bishop and she had black hair and brown eyes. Hannah was engaged to Wilks and she had black hair and green eyes. Laura was engaged to Pallie and she had blonde hair and brown eyes. Jenny was engaged to Thompson and she had blonde hair and blue eyes. And Victoria was engaged to Kings and she had red hair and brown eyes. They were all tanned and taller than she was thanks to the heels.
"And those women over there?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the family box where seven other women were sitting.
"They're the reserves' wives," Melanie said snootily.
One thing Hermione noticed was that they were all engaged to the members of the team that were all staring players. And she had the urge to point out they were married and the women in front of her were just engaged, so at least they'd been able to get their partners to follow through on the engagement.
"So what are you doing here?" She asked; she was obviously the leader of the group.
"I'm just visiting Oliver," Hermione answered.
"How do you know him? Did he hire you?"
"Did he hire me?" She frowned. "No, of course, he didn't, I'm sure Oliver has more respect for women and himself. I'm marrying him"
They all looked at her disbelievingly, their eyes once more looking her up and down, tracing her wild curls, Quidditch jersey and shorts.
"Why would he marry you?" Melanie laughed. "I mean, there's nothing particularly special about you, is there? You're not pretty, you're hair is ridiculous and you're fashion sense is well..." She trailed off, pointedly looking down at her clothing. Hermione bit her tongue, she didn't want to insult them and end up hexing them. The team likely wouldn't appreciate it.
"We were matched by the Ministry," Hermione explained.
"That explains it," she said nastily and the others laughed. "You're not exactly Quidditch wife material are you? Oliver can do so much better than you. You know he doesn't want you here, right? He's just being polite. You'll never be a Quidditch wife."
"That's your opinion," Hermione sighed, reaching up with her hand to push her hair out of her face and rubbing at her face in annoyance.
"What is that thing?" She asked rudely, looking down at Quaffle in disgust as he gave a particularly loud snore and Hermione let out a snort.
"Our puppy, Quaffle," she answered.
"It's hideous!"
Hermione raised an eyebrow; Quaffle was the cutest things she'd ever seen. Hell, he even made Oliver all soft and smiley and he had him wrapped around his paw.
Hermione had every intention of firing off a retort, only she didn't get a chance. She felt the change in her body, something wasn't right. She couldn't stop the coughing and wheezing, she couldn't help the way her breathing patterned changed as she struggled to breathe, she couldn't help that her throat was sore and scratchy and it felt like it was closing up.
The group of women all stepped back in horror as her face began to break out in purple blotches. Feeling her head going dizzy, her heart pounding in her chest and hearing her gasping breaths, Hermione reached out to steady herself on the railing but she failed, and she collapsed on the ground.
~000~000~000~
Oliver was up in the air on his broom as he kept an eye on the chasers whilst they practised their formations. For a small moment, he looked away from them and down to the ground, noticing that Hermione seemed to be surrounded by a group of women and he felt his mouth twitch into a smirk. Looking up, he saw his teammates flying over to him, likely having seen the same thing.
"I feel sorry for her, she's about to be thrown to the wolves," Thompson spoke.
"Aren't you going to go and rescue her?" Pallie asked confused.
Oliver shook his head. "Naw, she doesn't need me help. She took doon a homicidal maniac; she can handle a bit af bitchiness," he replied.
"Hey!" the team protested.
"Yer telling mae tha' ye don' think they're stuck-up, arrogant, obnoxious, spoilt witches?"
"I see your point," Wilks muttered.
"Our wives aren't as bad," Kelsy added.
"Naw they're not," Oliver admitted. "But they're still nasty an' stuck-up"
"So you're definitely not going down there to rescue her?" Kings asked, scratching the side of his head in confusion.
"Naw, Hermione can handle them, she might even knock them down a peg or twa. A've seen her do it befere."
"Wood? Something's happening down there," Wilks informed him, a frown on his face as he stared down at the people beneath them.
His attention snapped back to the group of women, he was too far up in the air to see what was happening exactly but he did hear Quaffle's barking and see someone seeming to hit the ground. Dread filling him, he flew down to the Coach's box and didn't even bother to slow down for the dismount as he jumped off his broom, it hitting the ground and he let it, forgotten as he ran to her, Quaffle stood beside her protectively as he growled and bared his teeth at the terrified looking women. Dropping down to his knees, Oliver reached for her and gently pulled Hermione into his arms, panic filling him when he saw her purple blotchy face which looked to be slowly swelling, and she sounded as though she couldn't breathe.
"Al...Al..." She tried to speak but she was ineffective. Oliver's head was spinning, trying to understand what she was trying to tell him. "Al...er..g..." She tried again.
"Allergic reaction?" He asked quickly and she blinked several times, letting him know he was right. He looked around for her bag and slipped it off her and noticing his teammates behind him, he threw it to Pallie who caught it as he was the closest.
"Open it an; say Accio epipen," he ordered. Pallie pulled his wand and did as he asked, but nothing happened. "Where is it?" He asked, doing his absolute best to stay calm.
"Sh..sh...o..."
"Ye left it at the shop?" He asked and she blinked. Oliver felt his control slipping and panic started setting in, knowing that if she didn't get her medication she could die. "Someone go tae me locker an' get the epipen oot af it, it's stuck tae the door." He looked behind him but no one moved. "NOW!" He yelled and Thompson broke out of the daze and turned, darting up the stands and into the building.
Oliver moved until he was sat on the ground and pulled Hermione further into his chest, his hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face. No one noticed or paid attention to the seven women that had just arrived from the family box.
"Jus' relax, anno ye cannae breathe, but a need ye tae calm down, it'll only make yer breathing worse if ye panic," he coaxed softly and no one dared talk. "Thompson's gettin' yer medication an' ev'rything will be fine. Ye'll be fine, a promise. A won't let anythin' happen tae ye. A won't let ye die, ye cannae; think af all the people ye'll leave behind, the twins an' the Weasley's, Quaffle. Ye cannae leave mae alone with him; he'll run circles 'round mae withoot ye tae keep him in line. An' Tillie! She'll kill mae with all the rolled-up newspapers in the world 'coz a'll insult her cooking one tae many times. Please, Sparrow, jus' stop panicking an' get yer breathing under control as best ye can," he begged, he pleaded, his eyes tearing up with him being on the verge of crying whilst his teammates watched him, stunned.
"BISHOP!"
They looked up at the stands to see Thompson throwing the epipen down to them and Bishop caught it and ran to give it to Oliver, who took it in his hand and did his best to focus on remembering the instructions Hermione had given him.
'Remove the lid, press the tip against her thigh and then hold it for three... no five... no ten seconds...' his thoughts were jumbled.
He pulled the lid off with his teeth and lifted the jersey up to get better access to her thigh. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the tip of the epipen into her thigh and he pressed the button and held it for ten seconds and then he removed the epipen from her thigh and dropped it to the floor.
He immediately began to see a difference in Hermione; her breathing was slowing and she wasn't gasping for breath as much and he held her tightly to him and rocked her gently in his hold.
"Yer gunna be fine," he whispered to her, lowering his head to press a kiss to her forehead and sighing in relief.
He only just noticed that Quaffle was still barking and growling and looked at him, the large puppy being stood protectively on the other side of Hermione.
"Quaffle, what happened? What was it?" He asked, knowing the dog would understand him.
Quaffle stopped with his growls and bark and Oliver could visibly see him sniffing at the air. Knowing that Hermione had just had an allergic reaction, he understood that Quaffle was trying to tell him something, likely what had caused it.
"Nuts? Coconut?" He asked. Quaffle barked. "Coconut?" He repeated. He barked once more before his growls started, his head turning towards the gathered woman who were huddled together in fright.
"From now on all products containing both coconut an' nuts are banned in this stadium," he said, his voicing taking on a cold tone no one had heard from him before. They'd heard him yell and curse, but they'd never heard him take that tone with anyone, especially a woman. They didn't even think he was capable of it giving how respectful he'd always been.
"You don't have the authority to do that," Melanie spoke smugly, standing up taller despite the dog growling at her. Malloy felt like slapping himself in the forehead at the stupidity of his girlfriend.
"No? But I do," Coach Burton spoke and Melanie's expression faltered and she paled; Coach Burton was the one person you didn't want to mess with on the team. His word was law.
"What happened?" He asked Oliver, having returned during the chaos.
"She's allergic tae nuts an' coconut, Quaffle can smell coconut which means she's come intae contact with it somehoo an; she's had an allergic reaction, a severe one," he explained before he looked down at Hermione. She was staring up at him with tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes and he lifted his hand and wiped them away tenderly. "Yer gunna be fine," he promised softly, keeping his gaze locked on her.
"All products containing nuts and coconut are banned from this stadium," Coach Burton spoke clearly and in a tone that told not to argue with him.
"We should get ye tae the hospital," Oliver spoke, but Hermione shook her head.
"I'll be fine now, you gave me my medication in time, the blotches and swelling should already be disappearing and my breathing's almost back to normal," Hermione said quietly as her chest still heaved.
"Will someone get this hideous creature away from us?" Melanie shrieked.
"He can bite ye fer all a care," he said loudly whilst glaring at her. The women gasped and Quaffle took a threatening step forward and Hermione weakly hit Oliver's chest.
"No, he can't bite them. Quaffle, come here," she spoke softly, but Quaffle heard. With one last growl, he turned around and walked back to Hermione, laying down beside her and resting his head on her stomach as he let out a whimper. She lifted her hand and scratched behind his ears. "That's my puppy," she spoke and Oliver smiled at seeing her condition improving.
"Quaffle, who's fault was this?" Oliver asked. Quaffle lifted his head, looked directly at Melanie and then barked. "Her?" Oliver said, pointing her out and he barked again. "Yer the reason Hermione almost died. Quaffle can smell coconut on ye, why?"
"Coconut oil," she answered.
"Go an' wash it aff an' never enter this stadium wearing it again," Oliver ordered.
"But it makes my skin soft and shiny," she argued pathetically.
"Think again," Hermione said louder than the last time she spoke. "You look like a greased up baby with wrinkles."
Oliver laughed and they heard several members of the team sniggering.
"HOW DARE YOU?" Melanie shrieked in outrage.
"A'd be very careful if a were ye, yer on very thin ice," Oliver warned with a narrowed gaze.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, looking ashamed and Oliver looked down at her confused.
"What fer?"
"For coming here today. I interrupted your training and you have a game in four days, you should be focusing on that and not having to look after me because I had an allergic reaction. If I'd have just stayed at the shop none of this would've happened. I'm sorry to be an inconvenience."
"For The Brightest Witch ye sure can be dense" he spoke softly. "Anna fer fact tha' if ye dinnae come here yerself, Fred an' George would've pushed ye head first through the floo. Yer not an inconvenience, what happened taday could happen in the future an' now anno what tae do if it happens again. As fer training, ye can come here an' interrupt whenever ye want. A don't care if it's ten minutes befere a match or if we're in a meeting with the bosses; ye can interrupt whenever ye want tae, as long as ye bring food 'coz the cafeteria food is disgusting an' the future cause af me death," he said and she chuckled, pulling a smile to his mouth.
"I'll never be a Quidditch wife. I'm not pretty enough, I'm not fashionable enough, apparently I dress like a prostitute, my hair's a giant puff-ball, I don't eat at fancy restaurant..."
"A'm stopping ye there," Oliver interrupted. "Who said tha' ye'd never be a Quidditch wife?" He frowned.
"No one has to say it," she said quietly, shrugging her shoulders.
"It was them, wasn't it?" He glared at the group of women and their partners all looked at them with strange looks on their faces. "They're jus' spiteful, rude an' jealous. Yer younger than they are, ye don' need tight clothing an' heavy makeup tae be beautiful, yer famous an' ye don' dress like a prostitute. Ye dress like a muggle; appropriately an' comfortably. Yer hair isnae a giant puff-ball, a like it bein' all messy an' untameable. An' ye don' eat at 'fancy restaurants' 'coz ye prefer tae yer own meals. Yer kind an' selfless, ye made lunch fer the entire team an' you didn't have tae do tha'; they would never even consider doin' tha' an' ye know more aboot Quidditch than a do. Anno tha' a can talk aboot Quidditch with ye an' ye won't get annoyed or bored, ye'll support mae. A bet they cannae even name the positions af each player withoot help. Yer the perfect Quidditch wife," he assured her.
They were just staring into each other's eyes and the others felt awkward, like they were intruding on a private moment, but that moment was broken when Hermione winced in pain.
"What is it?" Oliver asked quickly.
"My stomach hurts, it's one of the symptoms, remember?"
"Am taking ye tae the hospital."
"No, you have training and..."
"Don' argue with mae, we're gunna go tae the hospital."
Hermione sighed in defeat. "I'll go to the hospital if after we finishing decorating we can go to the lake at the manor."
"Deal," he chuckled.
"Wait a minute" Kings spoke, interrupting them. "Decorating? Do you two live together?" He asked in surprise and they nodded.
"She moved intae me apartment at the beginning af the week."
"Really?" Wilks said wriggling his eyebrows suggestively and Hermione frowned and fought down the blush that threatened to cover her cheeks.
"What about Quaffle? He can't come with us, the twins are busy at the shop and he won't stay here; he doesn't know anyone well enough yet."
"I'll watch over him until you can pick him up," Coach Burton offered.
At his words, Quaffle got up and walked over to him. Coach Burton stood still and allowed Quaffle to smell him and size him up and Quaffle sniffed his hand, licked it and then nudged his hand with his nose. Coach Burton lifted his hand and scratched Quaffle's head and he barked happily.
"Well, he seems tae like Coach," Oliver said amused and Hermione smiled.
"He trusts you," she informed him.
"Now, Quaffle, stay with Coach an' do ev'rything he says, do ye understand?" He asked and Quaffle barked in response.
"He's very intelligent," Coach Burton observed and Hermione smiled proudly.
"He's a muggle breed bred in the Wizarding World," she responded and he nodded in understanding.
Oliver stood up and took Hermione with him in his arms and she huffed in annoyance.
"I can walk," she scowled.
"Yer've jus' had a severe allergic reaction, am not risking it." She crossed her arms childishly and muttered under her breath. "A'll pick him up befere training ends,"
"Don't worry about it, just get her to the hospital," Coach said, and they said goodbyes and then Oliver left, carrying Hermione up the stands.
"He loves her," Thompson said and they all seemed to nod in agreement.
"Never thought I'd see the day Oliver Wood fell in love," Pallie spoke in disbelief.
"He was in a right foul mood this morning and as soon as she turns up, he hasn't stopped laughing and smiling. It's downright frightening," Wilks said.
Coach Burton snorted at them whilst Quaffle laid down at his feet and he kept his eyes on the women.
"She's going to be good for him, good for this team," Coach Burton spoke before he turned his attention to the crowd of women. "I have had enough of your behaviour. You do not get to treat people the way you do, you are here to support your partners and not to walk around as if you own the place or you have a right to be here. I have had enough of you disrespecting and insulting members of staff simply because your partners are on the team. What transpired here today is unacceptable and I will not stand for it. Around here my word is law, and as Captain, Oliver Wood is second in command and you disrespected not only him but his soon to be wife, who may be a future member of this team if I get my way."
The team raised curious eyebrows and looked to each other in intrigue at his words, wondering what he meant.
"I will give you one more chance and if you blow it you will be banned from the grounds and you will not be authorized to attend home matches." The women looked furious and Quaffle growled at them, a smirk pilling at Coach Burton's mouth. "As members of the public, you are not permitted to be in the Coach's box, return to the family box immediately. That goes for you lot as well," he said, looking at the reserves wives. "And do as the Captain said and wash off the coconut oil and do it before he returns."
~000~000~000~
"Oliver, I told you I was fine and I'm glad you let me go shopping," Hermione said amused as they walked down the stands to the Coach's box.
Hearing them approaching, Quaffle barked and ran to meet them and Hermione picked him up in her arms and he licked her face before he turned in her arms to lick Oliver's face, too.
"How are you?" Coach Burton asked Hermione as they approached him.
"I'm perfectly healthy; just have to get some rest."
"That's great news, you might as well head home, Wood, it's almost six anyway."
"Are ye sure?" He asked carefully. There was something different about Coach Burton, he was... Well, he was smiling.
"Yes, I want you here on time on Monday and bring Quaffle with you; he's a funny little guy," he instructed.
Oliver and Hermione shared an amused look. "Well if Quaffle wants to, he can come to work with Oliver instead of me." Quaffle barked at her words. "Quaffle's coming to work with Oliver," she said amused.
"Great, I can use him to keep the team in line," he said gleefully and they snorted at him. "Now remember to talk to Wood about that thing we discussed."
"I will," she promised and Oliver looked at her intrigued and she smirked at him, before they left to return home.