CHAPTER TWELVE
Summary: The battle is over and a marriage law has been put into effect due to the rapidly declining wizarding population. Under the law, Hermione is forced to marry at eighteen or face being exiled from the Wizarding World. Join Hermione as she has to deal with her past, whilst looking forward to the future, with the help of The Weasley Twins and rising Quidditch Star, Oliver Wood.
Disclaimer: All original characters and canon events belong to J.K. Rowling. Non-canon events are my own ideas. I am not making any profit from posting this fanfic.
Updated: 19/11/19
Page count: 22
Wood Apartment - Tuesday 14th July 1998
When Oliver stepped into the kitchen, it was to the sight of breakfast on the table and Hermione stood by the oven. That day she had wild hair free and cascading down her back, she wore blue converse on her feet with a cropped denim jacket, blue skinny jeans rolled up to the ankles showing the heart pendant on her anklet, and a white spaghetti strapped top.
Oliver was really appreciating the muggle clothing Hermione seemed to favour, and he had a newfound respect for muggles; they sure knew how to make clothing to show off a women's attributes without being trashy. His eyes lingered on her arse as he made his way to the kitchen table, stumbling a little as he knocked into a chair. Hermione turned to him when she heard a chair scrape against the floor and she smiled whilst his head quickly looked away, almost being caught staring at her.
"Morning, Oliver," she smiled.
"Morning, Sparrow," he greeted gleefully as she placed a cup of tea and a glass of orange juice in front of him before heading back to the oven.
"Quaffle outside?" He asked as he picked up his fork and began eating his breakfast of hash browns, potato waffles and sausages.
"Last time I checked," she nodded. "He seems to really like the balcony."
"What're ye doin'?"
"Making lunch," she shrugged.
"Ye know ye don' have tae do tha', right? Am perfectly fine eating in the cafeteria, as is the team."
Hermione turned to face him, a gasp of mock-horror leaving her as she pressed her hand over her heart. "And have that food be the cause of your death. I would never subject you to such torture. It just won't do to have people think that I want you dead, the press alone..." He chuckled at her and she turned back to the oven. "All joking aside, I don't mind cooking for you and the team, I was already making breakfast and I like cooking, it's calming."
"Alright, what're ye makin' taday?"
"White rice and chicken curry sauce with homemade bread"
"Yer a gift from Merlin himself," he muttered. "What do ye have planned taday? Yer've the day aff."
"Since Quaffle's going to the stadium with you, I floo called Mrs. Weasley this morning and she owled your mother, and floo'd Fleur. I know we're cutting it a little close but we've decided to head into Muggle London and do a bit of dress shopping. They're a little sceptical that a muggle dress will be formal enough for a wedding but when they see where I'm taking them..." She trailed, letting her unsaid words speak for themselves. "I'll never be able to get them to leave," she said as she approached the table and took a seat. "And, being in Muggle London means I won't be ambushed by the press or your fans."
A frown pulled at Oliver's face and he set his knife and fork down as he looked to her. "Am sorry tha' ye got hurt," he said sincerely and he reached out, taking Hermione's hand in his, half expecting her to retract it. He wouldn't blame her if she did.
"It's not your fault. I should've been more vigilant. I could've fought back but I didn't, I went into shock," she scowled, clearly upset with herself. "When I was a hit by the spells I had flashbacks to the Final Battle, it was my own fault and no one else's." She squeezed his hand. "But don't worry; Skeeter isn't going to know what's hit her. I've already set my plan in motion," she grinned evilly. Admittedly, he was a little worried for Skeeter even if she did deserve it.
The oven timer signalled and Hermione stood from the table and moved over to the oven and removed the bread from it as Oliver happily took in the smell. He had to admit he loved that the apartment always seemed to smell of freshly baked goods and food cooking. It was domestic, homey and oddly calming.
"Do you have any specific drills you're doing today?" She asked as she absentmindedly placed a Cooling Charm over the bread before cutting it into slices.
"A don' think so," he shook his head.
"Well, you should get Malloy to work on his turns; he's kind of sloppy and needs to be sharper. Pallie needs to work on breaking that habit of favouring the left hoop and Bishop should work on his movements, he's slow when flying in-between other players and delving and dodging. Thompson should work on his reflexes, he's rubbish at avoiding bludgers and Kings should work on his aim, whilst Wilks should work on his backhander. The reserves can continue with their drills until I officially start work as see what issues I'm dealing with."
When Oliver didn't respond, she peered over her shoulder, a blush settling over her cheeks at the smile he sent her way.
"Ye havnae officially started as Junior Coach yet an' yer already tellin' mae hoo the players need tae improve by tomorrow," he beamed both in pride and a little surprised. "But ye missed someone," he pointed out.
"I did?" She frowned in confusion, her mind whizzing through the team.
"Hmm, what do a need taw do taw improve by tamorrow?
"Well..." He hesitated, looking nervous.
"Come on, Sparrow, don' hold back. There must be somethin' tha' a can improve on," he encouraged.
She sighed and nibbled at the corner of her lip, Oliver's eyes trained on her mouth and watching enraptured, Hermione being completely unaware of how she was affecting him.
"I think you could be more aware of your surroundings. I noticed it in Hogwarts as well. When you're in the air, you seem to be oblivious to everything around you because you're focusing on the game and who has the quaffle," she started and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. "For that reason, you're open to bludger attacks, like when you were hit by a bludger courtesy of Marcus Flint. You have to learn to focus whilst still being aware of your surroundings."
Oliver smiled and stood from the table, crossing over to stand before her as she tipped her head back to keep eye contact with him.
"Are ye worried aboot mae?" He teased.
"Yes," she admitted without hesitation, surprising him a little with the confession. "Quidditch may be your passion and you may be brilliant at it, but that doesn't mean that it isn't dangerous, because it is. And no matter how many safety precautions are put in place, it will always be dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."
H could see the worry flash through her eyes and his heart seemed to skip a beat at her declaration. Silently, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his t-shirt over his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him as he smiled. She breathed in his scent; broom polish, mint and something that reminded her of the outdoors, maybe pine and the smell of cold air. She'd come to love his smell, it was comforting and familiar.
Ever since she'd told Oliver about her past a week ago, the twins hadn't been called upon to help calm Hermione from her nightmares, rather Oliver headed straight to her room, and as soon as he climbed under the covers she would settle. When she woke, they'd talk until she fell back asleep, he would help Quaffle onto the bed and head back to his own room, no matter how much he wanted to stay and watch over her, he didn't want to any boundaries.
"Have you got your robes for the wedding?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.
"Not yet, a think am gunna go with me da an' the team on Thursday after training," he replied and she nodded. "Wizarding robes or a muggle suit? What colour am a gettin'?"
"Whatever you prefer and feel comfortable wearing, I don't mind and I don't mind on colour either, but the colours of the wedding are white and blue, so maybe something along those lines," she suggested. "Who's your best man?" She asked curiously, wondering who Oliver thought of as a best friend.
"As much as he annoys mae, it's Pallie. He's a good friend when he's not pissing aboot," he said and Hermione snorted.
"Did you invite the entire team? Coach as well?" She questioned. He nodded. "Are they bringing their wives and girlfriends?"
"A'd imagine so," he grumbled, none too pleased about the fact. "But, if they so much as look at ye the wrong way, a'll have them removed an' banned from the stadium, it's a win-win."
She chuckled. "Is that before or after I hex them and Fred and George use them as target practice?"
Oliver snorted. "After, of course; a wouldn't wanna miss any af tha'. a'll make sure tae have a camera on mae." An uncontrollable giggle fell from her lips and he smiled at the light and pure sound. "Speaking of Fred and George, have you asked them to walk you down the aisle yet?"
"Oh, Merlin's balls," she sighed, Oliver chuckling as he pulled back to see her annoyed expression. "I knew I'd forgotten something," she grumbled. "I'll ask them tonight, they owled this morning; they're coming for dinner since they couldn't make it last night with everything that happened at the shop."
He reached over to push some of her hair behind her ear tenderly and out of her face, staring down at her with those large brown, puppy dog eyes and Hermione blushed under his gaze. Oliver lifted his other hand and softly traced the blush on her right cheek with his finger, the corner of his mouth twitching. He lowered his head, pressing his lips against hers as she folded her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes so he didn't have to crane his neck down. One of his hands found its way into Hermione's soft ringlets and the other fell to her waist, snaking around her back and pulling her closer against him.
He backed her up until her back hit the marble counter and he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, Hermione parting her lips and granting him access without hesitation. His tongue slipped into her mouth and they twined and danced together languidly, a soft moan being caught in his mouth when he nibbled at her lip. Hermione's right hand trailed down Oliver's neck until she gripped his t-shirt and her left hand slipped into his hair –how did he get his hair so soft?- and she tugged, Oliver groaning in surprise and pressing himself against her.
Giving Hermione's current willingness to snog him senseless, he decided on taking a risk as his hands slipped down to her legs and he lifted her onto the counter, stepping in-between her parted legs without breaking the kiss, His hands ran the length of her curves above her clothing but beneath her jacket, and knowing he wouldn't be able to stay in control for much longer, he pulled his lower body away from her slightly. When the need for oxygen had his lungs burning, he pulled his mouth from hers, brazenly kissing across her cheek, his lips trailing down Hermione's neck and he sucked at her pulse point, pulling a soft moan from her. His length twitched at the sound.
"Oliver?" Hermione moaned, noticing the time on the clock on the living area wall above the fish tank.
"Hmm?" He hummed distractedly, still sucking on her pulse point, determined to leave a mark.
"It's 9:40," she gasped out.
Oliver pulled back from her so quickly, she nearly tipped forward off the counter.
"Shite!" He cursed. He kissed her one last time before darting out of the kitchen with Hermione's laughter following him as it echoed through the apartment.
"It's not funny!" He called before shutting his bedroom door.
He emerged fifteen minutes later with damp hair, his broom in hand and wearing his practice robes. He quickly crossed to the floo shouting a 'see ye later' over his shoulder to a laughing Hermione before he floo'd to the stadium with Quaffle by his side.
Once he was gone, Hermione retrieved her beaded bag and decided to have a quick visit to Muggle London before lunch to get something so she could start decorating one of the empty rooms and surprise Oliver.
~000~000~000~
Hermione was in the large empty room at the end of the corridor where the three spare bedrooms and bathroom were located.
She decided to decorate using magic since it would be quicker and it was a smaller room, the magic wouldn't take as long to settle. She charmed three of the walls red and the final wall cream, she left the cream carpet untouched and added cream curtains by the two bay windows. She removed the items she'd bought from her beaded bag and placed them where she wanted them before resizing them. She had a cream coloured corner suite and she placed it in the top left-hand corner of the room, placing the red and cream cushions on the corner suite and in the bay windows, with the red and cream leather bean bags being positioned strategically in the room. She'd also purchased the biggest TV that she could -forty inch- and she placed it in the centre of the right wall opposite the corner suite with a large open space in-between them. She placed her charm on the TV so that it would work without electricity and then she plopped herself down on the corner suite and looked around. The walls were still bare but she'd bought plenty more photo frames waiting to be filled.
When Hermione's stomach grumbled, she headed to the kitchen and noting that it was half an hour before Oliver would take his lunch break. She ate only a sandwich as she didn't wish to be bloated when she went wedding dress shopping, before she packed up the lunch she'd prepared for the team and floo'd to the stadium.
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium
Oliver stepped out of the floo and jogged down the corridor, past reception and down the stands into the Coach's box and he was late, but he had an excuse. He wasn't upset that he didn't get a kiss to the cheek before he left for work because Hermione looked thoroughly snogged; her hair had been messy, her lips puffy and red, she'd had a slight blush to her cheeks and her chest had been heaving, he left a territorial bruise on her neck and he'd managed to pull some very arousing sounds from her.
Oliver silently berated himself at the turn of his thoughts but he couldn't stop the pleased expression on her face when he approached the team, seeing them all take a subtle step backwards as it surprised them.
"You're late," Coach said in place of a greeting, his eyes narrowed as he reached down to greet Quaffle with a scratch behind the ears.
"Sorry, Coach," he apologised. "Hermione was tellin' mae what everyone needed tae work on befere the match tomorrow."
At the news, Coach Burton looked positively thrilled. "What did she suggest?"
"Malloy needs tae work on his turns 'coz he's sloppy an' could be sharper. Pallie needs tae work on breakin' the habit af favouring the left hoop, Bishop needs tae work on flyin' between players 'coz he's slow an' clumsy, Thompson needs tae work on his reflexes 'coz he's rubbish at avoiding bludgers – her words, not mine," he added, seeing Thomson's narrowed gaze and the team chuckled. "Kings needs tae work on his aim, Wilks need tae work on his backhander an' a need tae work on paying attention tae me surroundings rather than jus' focusing on the movement af the quaffle. An' she wants everyone else tae focus on regular drills until she has the chance tae see them in action," Oliver shrugged his shoulders, his teammates watching him in surprise.
"Well, you heard the man, get to work," Coach Burton said.
Just before one o'clock, Hermione floo'd into the stadium and she made her way to the Coach's box, laughing as Quaffle jumped up at her until she settled him in her arms and he licked her face.
"LUNCH" Coach Burton called when he saw Hermione approaching, the team sighing in relief for their long-awaited lunch break.
"I hear you gave Wood suggestions for training this morning," Coach spoke, Hermione growing suddenly nervous.
"I did. You're not mad, are you?"
He snorted. "No, it was actually helpful; I was going to get them to do laps and then continue with their drills from yesterday."
She sighed in relief before handing him his lunch, which he took and headed to his office.
"Hey, what're ye doin' here?" Oliver smiled, dismounting his broom beside her.
"You forgot to bring lunch with you in your haste to leave the apartment," Hermione said amused and she put Quaffle down on the floor. "I have to say, I don't think I've seen something so amusing in a long time, and I lived with Fred and George." Oliver grumbled and she chuckled before handing over the bag of food to Oliver. "Have you told the team about Thursday?" Hermione asked Oliver and he shook his head.
"A'll do it now befere a ferget," he looked over his shoulder, already seeing the team gathered not far behind him.
"Am goin' dress robe shopping on Thursday after training an' yer all coming," Oliver said.
"Really?" Kings said amused.
He nodded. "As yer Captain, a order ye tae come shopping with mae, a havnae decided on whether tae get robes yet or a muggle suit," he said before turning back to Hermione. "Hoo long are ye staying fer?"
"Not long, I'm leaving for Muggle London in about thirty minutes. The others are meeting me here before we head to the Leaky Cauldron."
"Why're you going to Muggle London?" Bishop asked confused.
"Well, I'm a Muggleborn and I want to at least have some of my muggle heritage represented in this wizarding ceremony, and I'm not overly fond of wizarding dress robes. I want a muggle dress. And not only will the press not be able to follow me, but Oliver's crazy fans also won't be able to find me, either. Anyway, I'll take Quaffle for a little while so he doesn't try to steal your food," Hermione smiled, leading the puppy away from them as they took seats in the stands, digging into the food that was dished out.
"I still can't believe you're marrying Hermione Granger," Kings muttered, Oliver's mouth tugging into a smirk. They were never going to let it go.
"Well, a am," he shrugged.
"Lucky bastard," Pallie grumbled.
"Will you consider a swap? You can have Megan," Bishop said hopefully but the glare he received from Oliver had him stuffing food in his mouth and looking away.
"Naw, a don' want yer insufferable, spiteful girlfriend," Oliver glared, the teams sniggering at him. There were certainly far worse words he could've used and they all knew it. He'd been rather polite.
"You can't leave me with her," Bishop whined.
"Ye have the others tae bitch an' moan tae," he replied.
"It's not fair that you get her," Thompson mumbled.
Oliver shrugged his shoulders. He didn't choose his match. "Apparently, she's me perfect match."
"What?" They chorused in confusion.
Honestly, did any of them bother to read the article rather than just the headline?
"Supposedly, the Ministry cast complex spells an' charms tae find the perfect match fer those eligible fer the law. A got Hermione, she's me perfect match."
Their eyes darted from Oliver and to a laughing Hermione as Quaffle jumped up at her, trying to get the empty water bottle from her grasp.
"Nope, sorry, but I don't see it," Malloy said. "You're moody, she's smiley. She's smart and you're...Well not. You're dull, she's hilarious. She's beautiful, you're well... You," he ended innocently, the team sniggering whilst Oliver rolled his eyes.
"We both have a temper, we both like Quidditch an' we're both bein' forced tae marry each other. A cannae cook, she can. She's easy tae embarrass, am not. She's a Muggleborn, am a Pureblood. She's book smart, am street smart...Well she's street smart, tae, but tha's not the point," he shrugged. He received knowing looks from each of them. "What?"
"Nothing," several of them chorused innocently.
"There's obviously somethin' yer dying tae say an' yer gunna be a pain in the arse until ye get it aff yer chests, what is it?"
"It's nothing. We've just noticed some things, is all," Pallie said.
"Right?" He said slowly.
Pallie shrugged his shoulders. "You smile when she's around and it's downright scary," he said, his teammates silently nodding in agreement. "You looked like a hippogriff on a rampage when she was attacked by your fans, and I swear, you almost had steam coming out of your ears when she had an allergic reaction. You're protective of her," he finished. Oliver kept a passive face and shrugged.
At that point, Hermione had been playing fetch with Quaffle and she bent down to pick it up from the ground, Oliver's mouth twitching as he tilted his head to the side blatantly staring at her arse, not that Hermione knew. When she stood straight, Oliver turned his head and caught sight of his teammates also staring with cocked heads.
"Oi" He called, slapping Kings upside the head as he was closest to him and the team's attention turned to him, all of them looking unapologetic. "Do ye mind not staring at Hermione's arse?"
"No," they chorused as one and without hesitation.
"Let mae rephrase tha', stop staring at her arse," he glared.
"There's another for your list, Pallie," Fox laughed. "He's jealous, never thought I'd see the day."
"By the way, nice love bite you left on her neck," Fisher praised and Oliver looked pleased with himself, so much so, they burst into laughter. "Does she know it's there?"
"A don' think so," he shook his head. "If she did a'd likely be in hospital," Oliver replied and they snorted at him.
"Have you had the awkward ex's conversation, yet?" West asked curiously.
"Not exactly, she told mae aboot one. Viktor Krum," he shrugged, their eyebrows shot up and eyes widened.
"She's dated Viktor Krum?" Pallie said shocked.
Oliver nodded. "During her fourth year, but they broke up befere he left fer Bulgaria."
"Why?" Kelsy asked intrigued.
"She was fifteen, he was eighteen. He was pressurin' her an' she wouldn't give in, so he cheated on her an' then broke up with her," he answered, feeling anger towards Krum for the way he'd treated Hermione. "Not tha' she cared," he added with a smile.
"Bloody hell," he heard a mutter.
"So, how far have you gotten?" Malloy wiggled his eyebrows and Oliver glared.
"Tha's none af yer business, especially when it comes tae Hermione."
"So, you haven't...?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, unaware of Oliver's building rage.
"Naw, a don' want tae push her or pressure her. This situation is awkward enough withoot mae pushing the boundaries, a've gained her trust which wasn't easy tae do an' am not gunna risk losing it. Stop being an arsehole."
"So what you're saying is, she's a prude?"
Oliver made to lunge for Malloy but Hermione approached at that time, his movements stilling.
"Why does Oliver look like he wants to kill someone?" She questioned with her head cocked to the side, the team staring at her silently, not knowing how to answer her question.
"No reason," Malloy laughed nervously, ignorant to Oliver's furiously glare.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders before sitting down on the ground before them. "The others will be here soon," Hermione told Oliver, seeing his still furious expression. "Seriously, what has your wand in a knot? Is training not going well? Do they not understand what they're supposed to be doing? Is someone injured?" She questioned, her eyes scanning each of the players, noting they were all present and didn't appear to have any visible injuries.
Oliver's rage began to dissipate as he looked at her worried expression and he smiled slightly. "It doesn't matter anymore but it's a good thing ye came over when ye did, otherwise we'd be a chaser down," he looked pointedly at Malloy, said chaser shifting uncomfortably.
She dropped the subject. "Have you told them yet?"
"Told us what?" Thompson asked, looking between them with a raised eyebrow.
"Hermione's the new Junior Coach," Oliver said smugly, taking pride in the disbelief written on their faces.
"What?" He spluttered.
"I'm the new Junior Coach, I start on Thursday."
"But in thirteen years, Coach's never offered anyone a job," Kings muttered, staring at her in wonder.
"I guess I'm the exception. How are you finding the drills I gave Oliver this morning? Are they helpful?" She asked curiously, a smile tugging at her mouth when they all seemed to nod.
"I don't see how we can improve by tomorrow though," Wilks said.
"What time's the match?"
"Starts at four," Oliver told her.
"Well, you still have today and most of tomorrow. The best you can do for now is to just keep doing what you've been doing and when I start on Thursday, I'll help you all to develop your skills."
"How?" Oliver asked inquisitively.
"Don't worry, I know exactly how to help you and I don't think you're going to like it," she said, smiling innocently as Oliver raised a questioning eyebrow at her expression, knowing from experience nothing good ever came from that expression.
When released a bark and dropped the water bottle he'd been playing with before running up the stands, Hermione rose to her feet.
"Everyone's here," she explained. "Well, wish me luck; I'm going to need it."
~000~000~000~
Muggle London
Hermione'd been in the wedding dress boutique for a long three hours and so far Fleur had her bridesmaid dress, and Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Wood had found their wedding outfits.
Fleur's bridesmaid dress was a floor-length A-line silhouette dress that was light blue in colour and it had a sheer illusion neckline with lace embellishments and back detailing. Four-inch peep-toe heels had been purchased to finish the outfit; the colour would be charmed to match the dress at a later date. Mrs. Wood had purchased a new dress for the wedding and they'd decided that the mothers -surrogate and mother-in-law- would wear blue, too. Mrs. Wood's dress was a blue-grey lace sheath silhouette dress with an illusion neckline, three quarter length sleeves and it fell above the knees with silver stilettos to match the dress. Mrs. Weasley had taken some persuading but they'd found a dark blue taffeta, knee-length dress with a sheath silhouette and a v-neck neckline, the matching three-quarter length sleeved, lace cover-up and small heeled shoes complimenting the dress.
But they had yet to find Hermione's wedding dress.
The first time she'd entered the dressing room was the worst. The shop worker assigned to her helped her dress in the gown Mrs. Weasley had chosen. Hermione removed her robe and the shop worker gasped as she got a look at Hermione's scared stomach, back and arm. Feeling self-conscious, Hermione looked down and away from herself; that was exactly why she didn't want Oliver to see her. If the woman behind her was horrified, how would Oliver, her future husband react? She knew she should've glamoured what she could.
"What happened to you?" The woman asked, horrified.
"I was in a war,"
"Are you a soldier?"
"Yes," she replied, knowing it was true. She was a child soldier."Or I was; I'm retired."
"Why do you have all these scars?"
"Consequences of war," she muttered, putting an end to the conversation and the woman took the hint, selecting the first gown from the rack and helping Hermione to dress.
"So, tell me about your fiancé," she prompted.
"He's kind, caring and generous. He's incredibly handsome, unfairly so. We went to the same boarding school in Scotland, but he was four years ahead of me."
"What does he do?"
"He's a professional athlete, just made Captain of his team," she replied, being grateful that the woman didn't ask what sport or team, rather, she was too busy daydreaming about Merlin knows what, a dreamy smile on her face.
"When's the wedding?" She asked after Hermione cleared her throat.
"I'm cutting it a bit short, we're getting married in sixteen days."
The woman's eyes widened in both surprise and horror. "Well, we better ensure we find you the perfect gown."
When the gown was fastened appropriately to her size with clips, she spun to face the mirror, an instant grimace settling on her face. The dress was far too puffy and well... Old fashioned, but seeing as Mrs. Weasley had chosen it, she convinced herself to step out of the dressing room to show them the gown and to hear the opinions of her companions. Mrs. Weasley gasped, her eyes tearing up a little whilst Mrs. Wood and Fleur didn't like the dress at all. She went back into the dressing room and tried on Fleur's and Mrs. Wood's choices. Fleur's was far too restraining and far too form-fitting and Mrs. Wood's was for too princessy and blingy.
She'd tried on dress after dress after dress and Hermione was growing more dejected as the minutes ticked by. The dresses were either too puffy, too ridiculous, too tight, too big, too sheer, too expensive, or had too many ruffles or she didn't like the style or fabric. They just weren't her.
"Hermione, Dear," Mrs. Weasley called.
Hermione stepped out of the changing room wearing a white fluffy robe and she crossed over to her companions, sitting on the ottoman before the couch they perched on. Mrs. Weasley sat forward and reached out, taking Hermione's hands in hers and gazing softly at her defeated and downtrodden expression.
"Hermione, what's the matter?"
Hermione shrugged sadly. "Nothing feels right," she muttered. The three older women shared a look.
"Is it because your mother isn't here?"
"It's part of it," Hermione confessed.
"We can get her, where ever she is, she's but a port-key away. It wouldn't take long," Mrs. Wood said kindly.
Hermione shook her head, unable to hold back the tears that welled in her eyes as they silently rolled down her cheeks.
"You can't, you won't be able to find her."
"Hermione, why isn't your mother helping to plan the wedding?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"She can't,"
"Nonsense. Every mother has time to plan their daughter's wedding."
"Zat is true, my mozer came from France to help plan my wedding," Fleur injected.
"She can't," she repeated.
"What happened between the two of you? Whatever it is, I'm sure it can be fixed. You haven't spoken about your parents in a while."
"It can't be fixed." Hermione's tears fell more forcefully.
"Af course, it can, Dear," Mrs. Wood disagreed
"No, they're dead," Hermione blurted out, not truly registering what she was saying.
"What?" The whispered simultaneously.
"They died during the war. I obliviated them and sent them away to Australia. I received word from the Australian Ministry just before Bill and Fleur's wedding, they were found by Death Eaters. They were tortured and murdered."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Mrs. Weasley said stunned, but softly.
"I was ashamed of what I did. I failed to protect them and it's because I am who I am. I am who I am because of my loyalty to Harry. My parents died not even knowing who I was. I didn't want anyone to be disappointed in me because I'm a failure," she sobbed.
"Oh, Chérie," Fleur whispered sorrowfully. She sat forward and pulled Hermione into her, hugging her softly. And Hermione being able to speak French thanks to her late Grandfather understood each softly muttered words of comfort in Fleur's native tongue.
Hermione and Fleur had become a lot closer since the end of the war, being the only females beside Mrs. Weasley in the Weasley family; they had to stick together against all the testosterone.
"My dear child," her surrogate mother whispered, tears filling her eyes as she took Hermione in a bone-crushing hug the moment Fleur released her. "I am not disappointed in you, Hermione. What you did, you did out of fear and love. Not many people would have the ability or courage to do such a thing. I am proud of you and it wasn't your fault that they were found. You sent them to the other side of the world, if they could be found there; they could've been found anywhere. I just wish you would've told me sooner."
"I couldn't. It hurts to talk about it. It hurts to be reminded that I couldn't protect my family," she cried.
"Do Fred and George know?" She asked softly. Hermione nodded. "Have you told Oliver?" Hermione nodded again.
"Ye may have lost yer family," Mrs. Wood started gently, "But yer've gained twa." Hermione looked up at her and wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Jus' 'coz yer bein' forced tae marry me son doesn't mean tha' ye'll be a'thing less than me daughter-in-law. Anno Oliver cares her ye an' a can see tha' ye care fer him, tae,"
Hermione blushed at her words but nodded silently as they chuckled at her. "It's hard not to. He's a good man and a wonderful wizard."
"The more people you tell, the easier it will be to for you to deal with the past," Mrs. Weasley promised.
Hermione nodded but said, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"
"Of course, we won't, Dear. This is something that only you can reveal," she assured her.
"So, now tha' yer've gotten tha' aff yer chest, ye can now find the perfect wedding dress with the help af yer family," Mrs. Wood smiled softly.
Hermione wiped away the rest of her tears and they set to work searching the boutique, pulling more gowns from the racks than they could carry. When Hermione returned to the dressing room, her bridal assistant helped her into her dress, did up the buttons and clipped it to size and then Hermione looked in the mirror.
A gasp fell from her lips. She'd found her dress and despite the fact she was being forced to marry and that she didn't have her mother with her, she felt tears begin to prickle in her eyes, happy tears.
She was wearing a white strapless floor-length tulle ball gown with a sweetheart neckline, pearl and crystal beading embellishments and it had a chapel length train. The gown wasn't too big or puffy; it was a mixture of elegant and beautiful and Hermione could move in it without falling over or getting stuck in the door frame. She slipped on a pair of white five-inch closed-toe heels and a silver tiara was placed on her head. Hermione didn't want to wear it but she didn't argue for the moment.
She stepped out of the dressing room and the three women waiting for her ceased in their conversation as they turned her, sudden gasps falling from their lips.
"Oh, you look stunning. Absolutely beautiful," Mrs. Weasley said with her hand against her mouth and tears in her eyes. Fleur and Mrs. Wood didn't look to be in better condition.
"This is the one. This is my dress," Hermione beamed a smile
~000~000~000~
Wood Apartment
Hermione arrived home not long before Oliver and she quickly set to work on making dinner for the evening. When Oliver arrived home, he went in search of Hermione and found her in the library, perched in one of the armchairs.
"Hoo did yer dress hunting go?" Oliver questioned, Hermione startling at his presence.
"Oh hey, what did you say?"
He chuckled at her. "Hoo did yer dress hunting go?" He repeated.
"We got everything we needed; Fleur's bridesmaid dress, my wedding dress and Mrs. Weasley and your mum bought new dresses, too. They're at the Burrow where they'll be magically altered before the ceremony"
Oliver watched her, cocking his head to the side. Something was different. He couldn't tell what but he knew something had changed.
"What happened taday?"
"What'd you mean?" She frowned in confusion.
"There's somethin' different aboot ye," his brow furrowed in thought.
"They know about my parents," she sighed, tiredly rubbing her hand over her face.
He'd come to realise it was one of her habits. He'd noticed that when she was upset, annoyed or tired, she rubbed a hand over her face, rubbed her temples or she bit her bottom lip.
"Ye told them?"
"Yes, I feel like a weight's been lifted now they know but there's still people to tell and they don't know about my past. They promised they wouldn't tell anyone until I was ready."
He smiled at her. "Am proud af ye," he commented. She looked up at him with a blush. "Anno hoo difficult it is fer ye tae talk aboot yer past an' yet ye told another three people aboot yer parents."
~000~000~000~
Wood Apartment - Wednesday 15th July 1998
Early the next morning, Oliver was laid in bed waiting for Hermione's nightmares, and right on cue, the screaming started. He climbed out of bed and made his way to Hermione's room and as soon as he settled behind her and pulled her to him, she quieted down and not long after she woke up and turned to face him. Oliver wiped away her tears and they watched one another for a little while, neither speaking or breaking the silence.
"You have a match tomorrow, you should be asleep," she muttered.
"Not until ye go tae sleep, Sparrow."
"Oliver," she scowled at him.
"Am not sleeping until ye fall asleep an' we both know tha' won't be fer another hour or so," he replied, Hermione releasing a sigh of annoyance.
As he watched her eyes close, Oliver remembered that something had been bothering him since his talk with the team. He knew Hermione was a virgin but he didn't know how many boys she'd dated or how much she had experienced sexually. He didn't want to push her but he needed to know; when the time came, he didn't overstep any boundaries and he wanted to be prepared.
"Sparrow?"
"Hmm?"
"A wanna talk tae ye aboot somethin'."
"It's going to be awkward, isn't it?" She replied knowingly.
"Aye," he chuckled when she sighed.
"Okay, let's get this over with."
"A wanna know hoo far ye went with Krum."
Hermione's face flamed red and she buried her head beneath her pillow.
"Why?" Her muffled voice said.
"A need tae know aboot boundaries."
"We're getting married. Pretty soon there won't be any boundaries."
She had a point, but he still wanted to know. He needed to know.
"A still wanna know."
She huffed and he took that to mean she'd answer his questions.
"Kissing?"
"Obviously." He didn't have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes.
"Touching?" When she didn't move, he clarified. "Did he touch ye, either above or beneath clothes?" She nodded her head and he could tell by the movement of the pillow. "Both?" She nodded. "Where did he touch ye?" Hermione made a small squeaking noise and he moved onto the next question. "Did ye touch him, either above or beneath clothing?" She nodded. "Both?" She nodded. A wave of jealousy hit him. Now he was going to get very personal. "Did he give ye an orgasm?" She shook her head. "Did ye give him one?" She nodded. "How many?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Have ye ev'r had an orgasm?" She shook her head again.
That pleased him; he would be the only one to give her that experience, and he would give her that experience. He couldn't wait to make her fall apart under his hands, mouth and body. When his thoughts ran away from him, he shook his head.
"Oral?"
"NO!" She shrieked, mortified. He chuckled at her, deciding he knew enough to end her torture.
"Naw more questions. What aboot mae? Is there somethin' ye wanna know?"
"No, I don't want to know about your past relationships."
"Why?" He frowned slightly. He would've thought she would.
"I don't want to feel inferior or inadequate to those other girls."
Oliver's frowned deepened. "Yer've nothing tae worry aboot," he promised. "They were jus' one night stands. Yer actually the longest relationship a've had."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," she replied sarcastically. "We've only technically been dating for a grand total of twenty-two days."
"What's the longest relationship yer've been in?"
"Four and a half months," she answered.
He frowned. "Is Krum the only guy yer've dated?"
"No, there was a muggle boy the summer after my fifth year," was her muffled reply.
"Hoo long did tha' last?"
"Not long, about six weeks."
They laid in quiet for a while and when Hermione no longer felt embarrassed, she removed her head from under her pillow.
"It's aboot time, a thought ye were stuck under there," Oliver spoke amused and she shrugged.
"Your own fault," she muttered before turning to look at him with a thoughtful expression.
"What?" He arched an eyebrow.
"How many people have you slept with?"
"A thought ye dinnae wanna know?"
"I don't mean that. I mean sleep-sleep. You know, shared a bed with and you can count your parents."
"In tha' case, it's one".
"Seriously?" She questioned in surprise. He nodded. "Who?"
"Ye, the night ye told mae aboot yer past."
"You've never shared a bed with your parents?" She asked disbelievingly.
"Not tha' a remember. Hoo many people have ye shared a bed with?"
"Seven," she shrugged.
"Who?" He felt a twinge of jealousy.
"Fred and George, Ginny, my parents, Harry and you," she listed.
"Why?"
"Fred and George would stay with me through my nightmares and sometimes they fell asleep rather than going back to their own rooms. I slept with my parents when I was ill or had nightmares as a child. I slept with Ginny when I was staying at the Burrow. We had our own beds but we sometimes shared and we stayed awake and talked. And I sometimes shared a bed with Harry on the run. Ron leaving really hurt me and Harry would comfort me, and we sometimes shared a bed for warmth because it was cold."
"So, what does yer dress look like?" He changed the subject, seeing her expression brightened.
"Well, it's white," she replied vaguely and he smiled at her. "You should really get some sleep."
"Am not sleeping until ye do," he shook his head.
"I can already feel myself drifting off," she muttered with her eyes closed.
And before he knew it she was asleep.
~000~000~000~
Oliver awoke to the feel of something on his chest and something tickling his chin. He opened his eyes to see Hermione practically on top of him, her head laid on his chest and her arm thrown over his waist whilst he had one arm thrown around her waist, resting against her stomach and keeping her to him.
He couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face. He could really get used to her sleeping so close. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her she was the only person he'd ever 'slept' with. He generally didn't like sharing a bed, he liked to have space and be free to move around and to kick off the blankets if he was too warm, but it was the second time he'd fallen asleep with Hermione next to him and it was also the best night's sleep he'd ever gotten.
Although Hermione's nightmares had woken him and they'd stayed up for a while talking, he'd never felt more relaxed or rested. He knew he still had time to sleep since Hermione wasn't awake yet but he chose to listen to the rhythmic and calming sounds of Hermione's slow and steady breathing. He looked down and shifted slightly so he could see her face and he was happy to see she seemed peaceful.
It wasn't long before Hermione's breathing pattern changed and Oliver knew she would soon be waking, so he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep to save her the embarrassment she would surely feel when she looked into his eyes. He felt Hermione stiffen against him. He waited for her outburst but was instead stunned when she moved away from him, kissed him on the cheek and then climbed out the bed with a "let's go Quaffle" and she shut the door behind her.
Oliver waited a few moments to open his eyes and when the smell of food hit his nose, he left the room with a smile on his face. When he stepped into the kitchen, she was no longer in her pyjamas but dressed in a grey hooded jumper and black leggings.
"Morning, Sparrow," he greeted as he pulled out a chair from beneath the table and sat down.
"Morning," she smiled as she set a plate down in front of him. He stared in surprise: the plate was filled with every component of a full English breakfast, along with a side plate of bacon, but still, he'd never be able to eat everything on the plate due to the sheer amount of food.
"Are ye tryin' tae make mae fat?"
She laughed at him and sat down at the table, placing his tea and orange juice in front of him
"No, but you've got your first match today and I wanted you to have a big breakfast. So, are you nervous?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Not really,"
"I'm sure it'll kick in once you get in the air."
"What time are ye coming taday?"
"Around three o'clock, I think. The twins are letting Leo use their floo, so he'll floo to the stadium and I'll be waiting for him Coach owled me some tickets which I gave to the twins, so they're closing the shop early. He also said Leo can sit in the Coach's box today as long as he doesn't get in the way, which I admit, did surprise me." Oliver chuckled at her happy and pleased expression. "I've made lunch already. You're having turkey and stuffing sandwiches, pasta and I've baked chocolate chip cookies. And you should leave Quaffle here today."
"Why?"
"I have a surprise planned that requires his presence, one that you're not to see until before the match," she answered. He shook his head amused and he ate what he could before he felt ill.
"If a eat anymore, am gunna burst."
She rolled her eyes. "I almost forgot, I have a surprise for you." He arched an eyebrow at her excited expression. She stood from her chair, grabbed his hand and then dragged him out of his seat, out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the room she'd decorated yesterday. "I did this yesterday morning." She opened the door, allowing him to enter first.
"Is tha' what a think it is?" He asked amazed and pointing to the TV.
She nodded. "Yes, I remember how excited you were when I explained what they were, so I thought I'd get us one for here. When I have the chance, I'll buy some DVD's later on and we can start up a collection. "So do you like it?"
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium
Hermione floo'd over to the stadium just before three o'clock with Quaffle by her side, and she'd only been waiting a few minutes when Leo stepped out dressed in his Puddlemere scarf and jersey. When he caught sight of her, he beamed widely before rushing over to her and hugging her around the waist.
"Hey, Leo," she greeted.
"Hey, Hermione, Mr. Weasleys said you don't work at the shop no more," he muttered, looking up at her with sad eyes.
"That's right, I don't."
"Why?"
"Because people found out that I'm marrying Oliver and his fans hurt me at work so I had to leave. But don't worry, we'll still see each other and I have a new job."
"You do?"
"Yes," she smiled, preparing herself for his reaction. "I'm the new Junior Coach for Puddlemere." He gasped loudly, his eyes widening as she stared at her excitedly. "And that's not all; today you'll be sitting in the Coach's box with me, Quaffle and Coach Burton."
"Really?" He bounced on the balls of his feet.
"Yes," she laughed. "Should we go meet the team?"
"I get to meet everyone?"
"Yes, you get to meet everyone, let's go."
She took his hand and they walked through the building with Quaffle by their side, climbing down the stands where the team was gathered.
"What is he wearing?" Oliver asked Hermione as she neared him after Quaffle alerted them to their arrival. She laughed, pleased with herself at his surprised reaction. She'd dressed the puppy in a transfigured Oliver Wood Puddlemere jersey, equipped with a Cooling Charm to prevent him from getting too warm as it was still summer.
"I thought you could do with some support. I bet no other player has a dog rooting for them," Hermione grinned and Oliver laughed before picking up the puppy, Quaffle licking his face in greeting.
As he looked to Hermione, Oliver noticed that she was also wearing an Oliver Wood Puddlemere jersey but this one was different. He could tell that it hadn't been transfigured and it was too big. Far too big. In fact, it fell off her right shoulder and she had tied a knot at the waistline otherwise it would've fallen just below her mid-thigh. That only meant one thing.
Hermione smiled and nodded at his unspoken question.
'She's wearing my jersey. She's actually wearing one of my jerseys from my wardrobe,' he thought with an appreciative groan, finding it hard to take his eyes off her.
When Leo tugged on Hermione's hand, she looked down at him.
"Oh right," she cleared her throat. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce to you my very good friend, Leo," she introduced. The team greeted him with smiles and waves and Leo shyly waved back from his place half-hidden behind Hermione.
Seeing this, Oliver set Quaffle on the ground before kneeling before the little wizard.
"So, yer the little man tha's stolen the heart af me future wife?" Oliver questioned and Hermione chuckled.
"Hermione's just my friend," Leo said shyly.
"A dunno aboot tha'; she talks aboot ye all the time. All a hear is Leo this an' Leo tha'..." He gestured a talking motion with his hand and Leo laughed as Hermione reached out and playfully Oliver on the shoulder. "She's not as nice as she seems," Oliver stage whispered. "She's really violent; a have more injuries from her than a do Quidditch." Hermione hit him again and the team sniggered at them. "See?"
"Hermione would never hurt anyone," Leo defended her. The team snorted at Leo's reply; they'd all witnessed the hexes she put Melanie and Hannah under.
"Well, tha' rule doesn't apply tae mae but a wouldn't have her any other way," Oliver replied, Hermione's expression softening as she looked down at him. "So, Hermione says tha' ye wanted tae meet mae an' the team?" Leo nodded shyly. "Would ye like tae have a photo taken an' fer us tae autograph yer jersey?" Leo nodded, his eyes lighting up in excitement. "Great, but first a need ye tae answer a very important question." Leo shifted on his feet nervously. "Who's yer favourite team?" Oliver asked, his expression as serious as an outbreak of Dragon Pox.
"Puddlemere," he answered without thought or hesitation, looking at Oliver as though he were an idiot for even thinking he would give any other answer and Hermione laughed.
"Good answer, one more question? Who's yer favourite member af the team?"
"Hermione," the little wizard replied without missing a beat. The team burst out laughing at Oliver's stunned face and Hermione's smug, pleased expression.
Oliver shook his head and laughed.
"Ye know what, she's mine, taw," he staged whispered.
The team signed Leo's jersey for him including Coach Burton and Hermione -at Leo's insistence- and then they all headed into the building so they could get ready for the match, Hermione staying with Leo and Quaffle in the Coach's box until the match began.
~000~000~000~
The match had started and the players were flying around the pitch, searching for the snitch, hitting bludgers and passing the quaffle back and forth. They were an hour into the game and Hermione, Leo and Coach Burton were stood at the railing, shouting and yelling at the players for different reasons. Coach Burton was yelling because he was frustrated, Hermione was yelling for their players to watch out for bludgers and Leo was yelling encouragements. The three of them were making quite the scene, so much that Fred, George and Mr. and Mrs. Wood could hear them from the family box, amusing them.
Puddlemere were tied with the Montrose Magpies with a score of 50 – 50 points and the snitch had yet to be spotted. Hermione was growing agitated. Every time the opposing team's chasers headed towards Oliver, she would grip the railing until her knuckles went white and close one eye and watch, hoping that Oliver didn't get injured and so far it had worked, but even though Oliver was on the other side of the pitch and she couldn't see him very well, she knew that he was agitated, too, but for different reasons.
He was annoyed that he'd allowed five goals and he was flying back and forth in an equivalent to pacing. He halted to a stop when a Montrose chaser headed his way and he positioned himself in front of the centre hoop, giving himself the better advantage point. He waited and waited and when the quaffle left the chaser's hands Oliver put on a burst of speed and he darted forward, knocking the quaffle out of the way before it went through the left hoop and Puddlemere took possession as he heard the roar of the crowd.
Another hour into the game and there had only been two injuries; a chaser from the Montrose Magpies and Wilks since he'd accidentally gotten hit by a bludger as he'd flown right in front of it. Replacements were put in place and the game continued.
The snitch had been spotted by the Montrose seeker and Thompson was hot on her tail. She appeared to have the advantage but Thompson had more experience and determination to win, there was a reason he was ranked seventh in the league. He flattened himself against his broom, building up speed and he came side by side with the other seeker. He reached his hand out and just before he wrapped his fingers around the snitch, Thompson ducked, narrowly missing being hit in the head by a bludger and it distracted the other seeker long enough for the snitch to disappear out of sight.
"What a spanner!" Hermione muttered. "He should've seen that coming a mile away. Looks like we have our work cut out for us."
"Do you think you can fix it?" Coach asked her.
She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing at him; his hair was stuck up at odd angles from him constantly running his hands through it.
"It may take some time, but yes, I think I can help them." He looked relieved but that didn't last long when he turned his attention back to the game. "Malloy looks like he's about foul," Hermione muttered.
Coach Burton narrowed his eyes. "MALLOY, DON'T YOU DARE!" He yelled furiously, his voice carrying in the wind.
"He heard you," Hermione informed him, noticing that Malloy had shifted slightly on his broom, changing his posture and positioning.
All of a sudden, Hermione heard a roar of gasps and screams.
"A BLUDGER'S COLLIDED WITH OLIVER WOOD AND HE DOESN'T APPEAR TO BE MOVING!"