CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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. Rated M for a reason.
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: 19/05/20
Page count: 20
Wood Apartment - Thursday 30th July 1998
"What are you doing?" Hermione squeaked in surprise, a laugh leaving her when Oliver unexpectedly swooped down and lifted her off the ground, her arms looping around his neck as he carried her from the fireplace and through the apartment.
"Well, according tae me ma, an' a don' know hoo she found this oot, it's a muggle tradition fer a husband tae carry his wife over the threshold."
"Hmm, I never did thank you for my bracelet, so thank you. It's beautiful."
"Am glad ye like it," he smiled down at her.
"When did you get it?"
"Monday when we picked the rings up, a asked fer him tae have it made and Pallie collected it fer mae last night," he answered.
"That was very sneaky, Mr. Wood."
"Well, a have tae be able tae keep up with ye, Mrs. Wood," he emphasised with a grin and she laughed.
"Don't be thinking you can buy me jewellery and the like whenever you feel like it because I won't accept them," she warned.
"Hoo 'bout books?" He challenged, smirking when she scowled in annoyance. They both knew she wouldn't turn down a book.
Halting to a stop, Oliver toed open the door before him and he stepped into the room, kicking the door shut before he set Hermione on her feet before him, his hands slipping to rest against her stomach and his chin resting against her shoulder as she examined her new surroundings. With it being so dark, she drew her wand and cast a Luminaria, softballs of light floating above and bathing the room in a soft, mysterious glow.
Quickly realising they were in Oliver's bedroom, she noted that it appeared to be twice the size of the others in the apartment, making it the master's suite, and it was not what she was expecting. An entire wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows, showing the nightlife of Wizarding London, and chocolate brown curtains were tied back. The remaining three walls were chocolate brown with intricate detailing and accents in cream and the brown carpet was soft beneath her feet. The right side wall sat a door that led to the wardrobe whilst the left side wall housed the door that hid the bathroom.
A cream-coloured wooden, king-sized bed sat directly before, the high headboard pressed against the wall. The bedding was of cream-coloured cotton, a brown throw cover and brown cushions were fluffed and strategically placed. Glass bedside cabinets sat on either side of the bed, a large cream-coloured couch sat facing the windows with a glass coffee table before it, and a cream-coloured rug sat beneath it. Hermione thought there was absolutely no need for how big the room was, there being so much room to move about there would be no chance of accidentally bumping into something if she were half asleep and not watching where she was going.
"What d'ye think?" Oliver interrupted her inner musings.
"Very nice, spacious but cosy and not what I was expecting. You didn't decorate it, did you?" She asked knowingly.
He snorted. "Naw, if a had, it would've probably been planned oot tae be Puddlemere colours but it would've gone horribly wrong sometime during decorating, a dread tae think what the finished ootcome would be." She laughed lightly. "A hired someone tae do it an' gave them complete artistic control."
"They did a brilliant job," she complimented.
Oliver's splayed hands started tracing patterns against her stomach and she leaned back into him, sighing happily and a smile pulled at his mouth.
"So, what did you do last night?" Hermione asked, allowing Oliver's touch to melt away her tension and panic.
"After training, a took Quaffle tae the manor fer a bit befere coming back here, an' ye already know a was at the stadium taday. An' ye?"
He swept her hair aside and he placed butterfly kisses to her skin, Hermione humming and tilting her head to give him better access.
"Had a visit with Fleur and she dragged me to Paris, and when I got back, the twins and I stayed up most of the night playing muggle board games, having pillow fights and arguing over cheating and I hexed Fred for cheating."
He chuckled against her neck and she couldn't take any more of the nips and butterfly kisses so she twisted in his arms and pressed her mouth against his, kissing him languidly and slipping her tongue into his parted mouth to greet his. She felt the remainder of her nerves and tension melt away as she slumped against him and he held her tightly to him.
Feeling bold, she reached up and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and he drew his hands back so it could fall down his arms and pool to the ground before his hands settled on her waist, tugging her flush against him. Her hands moved to untied tie and she pulled it from around his neck and let it drop to the floor before her fingers made for the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. Having trouble with unfastening them, she made a noise of annoyance and waved her hand, the buttons magically popping open. Feeling Oliver's smile of amusement against her mouth, she tugged his shirt free from the waistband of his trousers and he shrugged both his waistcoat and shirt off until they hit the floor. Her hands quickly settled against his chest, her fingers tracing every piece of skin, ridge and muscle available, feeling his muscles twitching under her light touch. Groaning, he drew back from her breathless and he stared at her with questioning eyes.
Looking up at him, her teeth trapped her bottom lip nervously; she knew what he was asking and slowly, she nodded and turned her back to him, feeling his hands gently settling on her shoulders, the calloused pads of his finger tracing her skin and she shivered under his touch. He first removed her veil and halo of flowers and set them on the bedside table before he moved to unbutton the buttons on the back of her dress. Hermione knew there were quite a few and so it took him a while, his impatience obvious and she giggled to herself. He eventually got enough buttons popped free that the dress would've fallen to the floor if Hermione wasn't holding it up at the front, and his fingers traced the newly revealed skin and when a shudder ran through her, he gently tugged her to face him.
"Where's yer scars?" He asked softly, knowing it was a touchy subject with her.
"I glamoured the ones that would show, I didn't want anyone to see them."
"Yer beautiful no matter yer scars," he said truthfully, lowering his head to kiss her.
When she was engrossed with the kiss, Oliver pulled her hands away from the dress and it fell away from her body and pooled on the ground around her feet. He drew back from her, lowering his gaze and groaning at the sight of her white lace, strapless bra, and her matching lace boy shorts held together with white ribbons tied off into little bows.
She really does look like an angel, he thought.
"Beautiful," he muttered, drinking in her half-naked form as she blushed furiously.
Before she could protest, he captured her lips in a heated kiss and gently nudged her backwards until she stepped out of her dress and she reached the bed. A laugh of surprise fell from her lips when she toppled back, sprawling across the soft mattress and he chuckled as he moved to hover above her.
He could see her nerves, Hermione struggling to hide it and not wanting her to overthink or get trapped in her head, he drew back and knelt before her, first reaching for her left foot and removing her heel before moving to the right foot, being sure to keep eye contact. When he lowered her foot, she lifted them onto the bed and shuffled closer to the centre, her gaze locked with his as he quickly removed his own socks and shoes before he followed her, climbing up her body. With her head propped up by the pillows after throwing the cushions to the floor, her wild hair fanned out around her like a halo. Finding his balance, he slipped his hands to the back of her neck, removing both of her necklaces before he set them on the bedside cabinet. After leaning down to press a quick kiss to her neck, he lifted her left wrist to remove the tennis bracelet, setting it on the bedside cabinet and then pressing a kiss to the newly tattooed golden band.
As he did so, Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and a choked moan fell from her lips, the sound sending a shudder through him and bringing his erection to life until it strained against the confinement of his trousers.
Curious, he pressed another kiss against her wrist and achieved the same results.
Interesting, he thought.
When her eyes fluttered open they were so dark they could be mistaken for black, and whilst want and lust flittered through her gaze, her nerves were still present.
Lowering her wrist and spying the Wood family cuff bracelet on her other wrist, that possessive part of him reared up and he decided to leave it where it was, before he shifted above her, supporting himself on his elbows and being cradled by her thighs. He kissed her languidly and passionately as her hands and fingers explored his muscled back, shoulders, chest and stomach and she pulled him closer until he was flush against her. Her hands slipped to his neck, removing the gold necklace and she blindly threw it onto the bedside cabinet. He shifted until he was able to run his hands over her sides before moving to her breasts and he cupped and squeezed them expertly, making her moan into his mouth and arch into him.
She was growing frustrated and Oliver, sensing her mood, pushed his lower half against hers, catching her moan in his mouth. Her hands trembled as she trailed them down his stomach and to his trousers, shakily undoing his belt, button and zip. She pushed his trousers down the best she could and Oliver pulled away from her to kick them off the rest of the way before latching his mouth onto her neck, nipping at her skin and biting her pulse point gently. She moaned when he started grinding against her and when Oliver reached his hands beneath her back, without thought, she arched her back into, giving him better access and he unclasped her bra and pulled it away and flung it to the floor.
Drawing back from her, his eyes swept her form, locking on her bare breasts, his gaze darkening as she blushed furiously. Oliver caught the movement of her about to cover herself and he quickly intercepted it, holding her hands out to the side.
"Yer perfect," he promised in a whisper, catching her mouth in a blazing kiss, taking her breath away.
When he pulled away, his lips trailed down her neck, to her collar bone, he kissed the top of her breasts before taking her right nipple into his mouth and he licked, sucked and nipped gently. Hermione moaned breathlessly and arched into him, tugging her hands free of his grasp and burying them in his hair, tugging at the strands and pulling a groan from him.
"Did he ever..." Oliver mumbled around her nipple. Hermione knew what he was asking and promptly shook her head. Oliver smirked. He loved being able to one-up Viktor Krum.
He pulled away from her and she whimpered at the loss but it was soon replaced by a moan when he shifted to her left nipple, his hand moving to pay attention to her other, rolling it in his fingers and tugging and pinching gently. He pulled away and she made a whining sound in protest and he chuckled.
"Remove it," he ordered against the skin of her stomach before kissing it and dipping his tongue into her belly button.
She gasped. "What?"
"Remove the Glamours," he clarified, dipping his tongue into her belly button again and she tugged his hair.
She untangled one hand from his hair, waved it and then buried it back in the soft strands, Dolohov's scar showing itself, but so did something else. Something he definitely wasn't expecting from Hermione Granger.
"Hermione, is tha' a tattoo?" He questioned in surprise, his eyes locked on her stomach, just beside her right hip where there sat a tattoo the size of the palm of his hand. It was a phoenix with its wings spread, in reds, oranges and yellows and it was half-covered by the band of her underwear.
"Yes, I got it in Muggle London the night of the Final Battle," she replied breathlessly, seeing his hungry gaze lift to her face.
"Does anyone know?"
"No," she shook her head. You're the only person to see it. I always glamour it. "
He groaned in the back of his throat. "Tha' is so..." He trailed off, not being able to finish his words and he lowered his head, pressing his lips against her tattoo and tracing it with his tongue.
She moaned and shivered beneath him. He would definitely be paying plenty of attention to her tattoo in the future and after sucking on her skin, he reluctantly pulled away and continued kissing down her body. He looked up at her, she was panting, her face to her breasts was flushed pink and she was biting her lip anxiously. She slowly nodded her in consent, looking both lustful and vulnerable.
He hooked his fingers into her underwear and slowly pulled them down her legs, keeping eye contact with her and her face darkened in embarrassment. He pulled them over her feet and threw them behind him, his eyes darting down to her neatly groomed patch of curls before he moved further down her body, pressing his lips against her ankle and up to her hip before he swapped to her right leg, her eyes being closed and her chest rising and falling with every ragged breath she took.
When Oliver placed a kiss against her most private place, she gasped, her eyes flew open and widened and she reflexively tried to close her legs, but Oliver knowing she would do that, caught her legs and pushed them further apart, giving him better access.
"Oliver? What are you doing?" She asked mortified.
"What does it look like?" He hummed as he watched the glistening of her arousal and he couldn't resist anymore, his tongue darting out and swiping through her folds and they both moaned; she tasted like tangy honey.
"Oliver, you don't have..." She tried to protest but his dark gaze silenced her before he bent his head and returned to his previous ministrations.
He swept his tongue through her folds before he found her nub and he latched on to it, sucking it into his mouth and nipping gently with his teeth. He slipped a finger into her and pumped slowly before adding a second and third finger. The sounds he was pulling from Hermione reminded him of his aching need for release. She was wriggling under his ministrations, panting and letting out mewls and whimpers.
He recognised the signs and with his free hand, he reached up to pay attention to one of her nipples, he sped up the movement of thrusts and he sucked harder on her nub. There were too many sensations for Hermione to deal with and she snapped, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over her as she called Oliver's name, arching her back and gripping the bedding with her hands. Oliver lapped up her juices all too happily and when she came down from her high, working to calm her breathing, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and he crawled back up her, hovering over her and supporting himself on his elbows. Her eyes were closed and she had a soft smile on her face and he felt rather pleased with himself.
Slowly, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "You're looking pleased with yourself," she noted.
"A have reason tae be," he smirked and she scowled at him before she shifted underneath him nervously.
He leaned down and kissed her languidly and she was surprised to find she didn't mind the taste of her arousal on his tongue and it didn't take long for his boxer to find purchase on the floor with the rest of their clothing and Hermione took him in her hand, using his pre-come as lubrication as slowly pumped her hand over him and he groaned at the feeling. She looked down and her eyes widened. She knew that he was big, seeing as she couldn't fit her hand around him completely, but she hadn't expected him to be that big. He was long and thick and curved slightly.
Oliver noticed her reaction and resisted the urge to smirk and puff out his chest.
"Don' worry, it'll be fine," he said gently. She looked at him sceptically and he resisted the urge to chuckle.
He pulled the blanket out from beneath Hermione and she shifted to help him move it until she was laying on the bedsheets and the covers were thrown over them to protect from the chill in the room.
"Ready?" He asked her gently, hovering over her, supporting himself on one elbow and taking himself in his other hand.
She took a deep breath and slowly nodded. He could see the worry in her eyes. "I'm ready."
"We don' have tae do this tanight; we have twenty-four hours, we could jus' have a cuddle if ye want tae stop," he told her, his eyes searching her expression carefully.
"That's sweet of you but I want this. It's our wedding night and if we put it off, I'll be even more nervous."
Searching her expression one last time, he nodded and ran the tip of his length down her folds a few times and they both huffed out noises at the contact.
"This'll probably hurt," he warned her gently, "A'll try an' be as gentle as a can."
He swept down and pressed his lips against hers, taking her in a consuming kiss. When she was distracted, he pulled her right leg to rest over his hip and he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly he entered her. She gasped, pulling away from him and her nails dug into his shoulders. He slowly pushed forward until he was halfway in but she'd tensed up and he couldn't push any further. He took a slow, steadying breath, his jaw clenching.
"Sparrow? A need ye tae relax," he muttered, rubbing circles against the side of her knee and her waist to offer comfort. Slowly, she did as he instructed and he pushed forward a little more. "Take deep breaths," he instructed before he drew back and thrust forward, tearing her hymen and he was fully sheathed inside of her.
She gasped for the second time, her grip on his shoulders tightened and she sounded like she was choking on her breath, struggling to breathe. He clenched his jaw, his head bowed and his body froze, his muscles bunched tightly in an effort not to move. She was warm, wet and tight, like smooth silk. Tighter than he thought she would be and it was almost painful as she engulfed him securely. If he wasn't as experienced as he was, it probably would've been his undoing.
Lifting his gaze, he saw her face pinched with pain and teardrops leaked from the corners of her eyes. He felt awful for hurting her even if it couldn't have been helped, and he leaned down to kiss the tears away.
"Jus' let mae know when it doesn't hurt," he whispered against the skin of her neck and she nodded. Wishing to distract her and calm her, he pressed kisses to her skin and continued to rub circles against her side.
A few minutes later, she wiggled her hips as the pain ebbed away. "You can move now," she muttered and Oliver slowly drew back his hips and carefully thrust into her, setting a slow and steady pace. It didn't take long for the discomfort to fade and pleasure filled its place and she was moaning beneath him and instinctively bringing her hips up to meet his. He took that as a good sign and increased his speed and thrusts, being mindful to be careful and now overwhelm her, even if that meant he had to hold back.
He knew he wouldn't last much longer, she felt too good and warm. He'd had his fair share of witches but something about this was different. It wasn't because he loved her and emotions were involved, it was something deeper, stronger. It was almost as if she'd been made for him and him for her. Almost as if they were meant for one another. Everything felt heightened and overwhelming.
He snaked his hand down between their bodies and put pressure on her nub and it sent her over the edge. Hermione cried Oliver's name, clung to him tightly and her already tight walls clamped down around him, pulling him in further and he rode out her orgasm. He tried to hold back, he did, but he couldn't. Not that time. Not when Hermione's teeth sunk into his pulse point.
"Fuck! Hermione!" He hissed in surprise, his relief being torn from him.
He collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the mattress and caging her soft, exhausted body beneath his as her hands softly ran the length of his back. When he found the strength, he rolled off her and to the side, pulling her with him so she was tucked into his side with his arm around her waist, her head pressed against his chest, her arm thrown over him and her leg resting over his and he shifted the blanket to better cover them.
"Are ye okay?" He asked softly, breaking the silence as his hand absentmindedly tickling the skin of her stomach, right where he knew her tattoo to be. She nodded. "A dinnae hurt ye tae much?"
"I'm a little sore," she admitted, "But it wasn't too painful. More like a sharp sting, like a parchment cut and we all know those buggers hurt like hell," she shrugged one shoulder and he snorted as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. She tipped her head to look up at him, her cheeks filling with a pink tint as she sheepishly said, "I'm sorry for biting you."
"Hoo's it looking?" He asked, turning his head to give her better access to his neck. She shifted until she was propped up by her elbow and she saw the teeth marks in the left side of his neck, knowing it was going to bruise.
"It's not bleeding but it's still pretty deep, you'll have a mark and bruise for at least a week. It didn't hurt, did it?" She asked guiltily.
"Not really, like gettin' stabbed with a quill, besides, it's not yer fault tha' am so handsome ye felt the need tae mark mae tae scare aff other women," he teased. She weakly hit him in the chest and he laughed. "Seems only fair since a hurt ye," he grumbled, still feeling awful about it.
"Yes, but I may bite you more than once, you can only hurt me once or twice and after that the pain will go, I don't how many times I'll bite you. If the team sees that we're going to get tortured," she sighed and he snorted.
"Aye, we definitely are," he agreed. "They've already been bugging mae."
"They have Since when?"
"Since they met ye."
"They kept asking how far you'd gotten with me, didn't they? I bet Malloy was the most to press the subject," she said knowingly.
"Hoo'd ye know?" He questioned in surprise.
"Whenever I saw the two of you talking, you were always glaring and looking like you wanted to kill him. And, I heard him ask you if you'd charmed the pants off my mother and if she dragged you to her bedroom," she shrugged, seeing his guilty expression. "You can tell them, you know?" He arched an eyebrow response. "I don't mind as long as you don't go into explicit detail."
"Why?"
"I don't want a rift to come between you and Malloy because he's an arsehole."
"A'd never do tha' tae ye," he promised, "Naw matter hoo annoying he is. A wouldn't reveal anythin' aboot ye or us tae get him tae shut up. Our private life has nothin' tae do with him."
"Well, he's right about one thing," she said, her mouth tugging into a smirk. "I do have great stamina."
He spluttered in surprise and she laughed.
"Hoo do ye know he said tha'?"
"You've forgotten? I have enhanced hearing. I've heard bits and pieces of some conversations. I just pretend I've no idea what's been said. I don't listen in on purpose, it's just sometimes my hearing picks up on certain things," she shrugged.
"So, ye have good stamina?" He checked.
"Yes, a trait from my Animagus form."
"Good tae know fer future reference," he smirked down at her.
"Who said I'd be having sex with you more than once a week as required by the law?" She teased.
"Have ye not seen mae? Am so handsome ye won't be able tae keep yer hands aff mae," he said arrogantly.
She snorted before snuggling closer, and catching sight of their discarded clothing on the floor, she casually waved her hand, the clothing levitating over to the couch and draping over the cushions.
"A thought ye said it was hard fer ye tae do both non-verbal an' wandless magic at the same time?"
"It is, but some things are to do than others, some I've mastered and require little concentration. I can levitate things, summon things and do Finite Incantatem and Impedimenta without the need to focus."
"Ye never cease tae amaze mae," he commented and she smiled up at him.
"Oh, I forgot to ask you, would you mind if I changed that spare room near the library into a potions lab and study? Just until I've done my NEWT's. I need to practice for the practical aspect of the exam."
"A don' mind, in fact, don' bother changing it back afterwards; jus' keep it as a potions lab, then ye can work on products fer the twins' shop practically rather than jus' theoretically."
Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "You're sure?" She checked. He nodded and smiled. She leaned up and kissed him and then settled back down against him. "Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you, I've finished my journals for my first year."
"Tha' was fast," he mused.
"I'm going to go read through them one last time and then I need to choose a publishing company. I haven't decided if I should release the books together or release them separately, possibly annually," she said, shifting to get more comfortable and she winced in pain at the sting between her legs.
"Yer sure yer okay? It was okay?" He asked running his fingers over her shoulder and down the length of her arm comfortingly and she sighed happily with her eyes closed.
"Yes, I'm fine and it was wonderful. As far as first times go, it was amazing. Stop smirking," she said tiredly and he chuckled at her.
"A promise when the Quidditch season's over we'll a have a proper honeymoon."
"I don't mind just spending the weekend with you."
"A know ye don', but a want tae spend time with ye. Jus' ye an' mae, twa weeks, maybe more, on a private island with sky blue oceans an' private golden beaches."
"You just want me to walk around in minimal clothing," she muttered.
"Hmm, but can ye blame me? My wife's the most beautiful woman in the world an' she has a ravishing body." She scoffed. "An' a sexy as hell tattoo. What does it mean?"
"The Order of the Phoenix, a phoenix rises from the ashes, they represent new beginnings. The end of the war brought new beginnings. It brought me you."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Yer mine an' only mine."
"And you're mine," she said sleepily.
"Always," he agreed, "Have the bite mark tae prove it," he teased.
"Good, would you like to tell that to your girlfriend, Mary?" She giggled and he couldn't be annoyed at her when she giggled. "I love you."
"A love ye, Sparrow."
"By the way, I've got three tattoos."
"What? Where? What are they?" He asked excitedly and he sat up, jostling Hermione.
"Not telling you, but you'll see soon enough," she replied, dozing off.
He groaned. "Yer killing mae here."
She giggled again. "You'll survive if you want to see them"
~000~000~000~
Wood Apartment – Friday 31st July 1998
Oliver woke long before Hermione and he watched her carefully; it was still early as the sun hadn't begun to rise and he waited for her inevitable nightmares to start. He watched and waited for what seemed like hours. She was lying on her back with her hair fanned out over the pillow and it had frizzed up slightly during the night, her mouth was parted slightly and she looked peaceful. The blanket was covering her breasts and she had one hand thrown out to the side and her other hand gripped his hand that was splayed on her stomach.
Satisfied that she was peaceful, he pulled Hermione into his arms and she sighed in her sleep. He smiled, kissed her forehead and allowed himself to fall back to sleep.
He awoke several hours later and the sun was streaming through the windows, bathing the room in its warm rays. He felt his muscles twitch and a soft tickle against his skin and when his eyes slowly opened, it was to see Hermione facing him, her head supported by her hand as the other traced explorative patterns on his chest as he lay on his back and she had a leg thrown over his hip. He definitely had a morning erection. He smiled at her sleepily and she smiled back.
"Morning," she greeted.
"Morning, beautiful," he spoke, his voice thick with sleep. "What time is it?"
"A little after ten, I think," she shrugged slightly.
"Ye dinnae have any nightmares," he stated.
"I didn't, for the first time for as long as I can remember, I didn't have a nightmare. I had the best night's sleep I've ever had."
"A always feel rested an' relaxed after waking up next tae ye," he confessed and she smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to his mouth. "Ye know, havin' ye draped over mae naked is a great way tae wake up."
"Is that so?" She arched an amused eyebrow.
"Hmm," he ran his hand up the leg hooked over his hip and he bucked his hips so that his erection pressed against her leg.
She gasped in surprise and he rolled her so he was on top of her and he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He moved a hand down between them and found her nub and with a few strokes, she was ready for him, her arousal coating his fingers.
"How are ye feeling?" He checked.
"I'm okay," she nodded.
She reached down between them and took him in her hand, he groaned at the contact and she pumped her hand a few times before she shifted beneath him and guided him into her. He pushed forward and she gasped. He immediately stopped.
"Yer still hurt," he accused.
"No," she denied, "It's just a little uncomfortable, I'll be fine after a few times."
He eyed her suspiciously and she was getting impatient so she hooked a leg around his waist and pulled him forward until he was fully sheathed inside her. Oliver groaned, his hands tightening into fists and Hermione's breath hitched.
"Yer sure yer okay?" He questioned, his expression concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine" she promised.
She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek and her thumb swiping across his cheekbone and he turned his head and kissed her palm, before he pulled out of her and thrust forward slowly, allowing her body to get used to the intrusion once more. It didn't take long for the pleasure to override the discomfort and soon she was moaning and gasping, wriggling under him and lifting her hips up to meet his.
He pushed her over the edge when he experimentally lifted her left wrist and pressed a kiss to her golden band. It hadn't been expected. The dam burst and her walls clamped around him tightly and he halted in his movements, clenching his teeth and waiting for her to come down from her high. When she did, he continued with his movements but he still kept a slow and steady pace, and it took an even shorter amount of time for her to reach the edge for the second time, still sensitive from her last orgasm. The second time she climaxed, she cried Oliver's name and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, her mouth latched onto his neck, in the exact same place she had bitten him the night before, only she didn't bite him but she did suck at it harshly.
"Fuck!" He groaned, his pleasure being ripped from him before he'd been ready, and her walls tried to pull him in further.
Oliver collapsed on top of her and when he found the strength, he rolled off her to the side and pulled her against him.
"Yer not allowed tae wear clothes tae bed," Oliver decided and Hermione laughed breathlessly.
"I'm hungry, but I don't want to get up and make something, I'm too comfortable to move," she sighed.
"A can fix tha'. Tillie!" He called and the little elf popped into the room. He and Hermione sat up and made sure the blanket covered them.
"Good morning, Master, Mistress," she bowed. "Congratulations," she beamed.
"Did you enjoy the ceremony, Tillie?" Hermione asked kindly.
"Yes, Mistress. It was beautiful. Tillie can see you love Master very much, you make him happy."
Hermione smiled. "He makes me happy," she confessed.
Tillie, catching sight of the golden bands wrapped around their wrists reflecting in the sunlight, suddenly gasped before she jumped up and down on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together excitedly and squealing in delight.
"Master and Mistress have the bands!"
Oliver and Hermione shared a look. "Ye know what these are, Tillie?" Oliver questioned, gesturing to the band on his wrist.
"Yes, Master. Tillie hasn't seen one in a very long time. Master and Mistress must find out for themselves, it is a wonderful thing... Tillie will fetch your breakfast," she popped out of the room.
"What is it with these bands?" Oliver said confused.
"I don't know, but..."
"Naw, naw research during our honeymoon weekend. If it's a good thing, it can wait," he said firmly and she scowled but nodded as she folded her arms over her chest.
Tillie popped back into the room with a tray filled with two glasses of orange juice, two cups of tea, pancakes, maple syrup, bacon and scrambled eggs.
"Ye dinnae cook it, did ye?" Oliver asked, eyeing both Tillie and the food warily.
Hermione took the tray from Tillie and Tillie clicked her fingers and a rolled-up newspaper appeared in her hand before she swotted Oliver in the arm.
"Ow!" He whined and Hermione laughed hysterically.
"How dare Master insult Tillie?" The little elf demanded unhappily.
"A cannae believe it. Am gettin' abused by me own house-elf whilst am naked an' me naked wife's next tae mae laughing her arse aff," he grumbled.
Scowling, Oliver reached for the newspaper and Tillie popped out of the room, leaving them to their breakfast.
Ministry Marriage
By Lucy Miles
Yesterday evening, at sundown, the long-anticipated wedding of Hermione Granger, War Heroine, and Oliver Wood, Quidditch Star, occurred and this reporter is happy to say she was granted access to attend the private ceremony with no more than one hundred and twenty-five guests, one of the most private celebrity weddings to have taken place in the last century.
Puddlemere United, Captain, Oliver Wood, looked sinfully handsome in his chosen attire of a fitted, navy-blue muggle suit (you can say what you want about muggles but they sure know how to make clothing) and the now Hermione Wood, looked beautiful in her chosen muggle, lace detailed wedding gown.
The wedding ceremony was charming, intimate and beautiful; with fairy lights twinkling in trees and a white glow shining against the lake on the grounds of the Weasley's property in Devon. There was a small interruption in the form of Oliver Wood's number one fan, now identified as Mary Hughes, breaking through security to insist that she be the one to marry the Quidditch Star, but the matter was soon handled, with the bride scaring away the intruder who was later apprehended by Aurors.
There was not a dry eye in the audience as both the bride and groom expressed their love for one another, choosing to recite both the traditional wedding vows as well as their own. I, myself, have never before witnessed such a pure and beautiful display of love. However, the highlight of the ceremony for me was most definitely the bride and groom's adorable muggle –bred puppy, Quaffle, as he waltzed down the aisle sporting a muggle suit that was later discovered to be the now Hermione Wood's doing.
The wedding reception was equally as wonderful and held on the grounds of the beautiful Wood Manor, home to Lord and Lady Wood. The bride and groom's first dance was beautiful as the happy couple laughed softly and chatted intimately, casually sharing chaste, loving kisses as they swayed on the dance floor to the chosen song, written and performed by a famous muggle artist, the words almost seeming to have been written for the newlyweds themselves.
The speeches were both emotional and humorous, with Fred and George Weasley, successful businessmen and the wizards to have walked Hermione Wood down the aisle, teasing the bride, and Jack Pallie, Puddlemere Chaser and Oliver Wood's best man, taunting the groom.
Towards the end of the night there was a fantastic firework display in which Fred and George Weasley were responsible, later followed by a flock of doves bursting from seemingly out of nowhere whilst the newlyweds cut the cake.
The experience was one I, and I'm certain, nor the other guests will ever forget, and we, at the Daily Prophet, wish the new Mr. and Mrs. Wood all the best for the future.
Photographs from both the ceremony and the reception accompanied the article; one showing Hermione being escorted down the aisle by the beaming Weasley Twins, one of her and Oliver as they shared their first kiss of the ceremony, one of them sharing their first dance, and a later one showing them dancing with their friends and family, laughing as Quaffle darted around and jumped up at them.
"A think a like this Lucy Miles," Oliver remarked, accepting the cup of tea Hermione handed him. "She's a right sight better than Skeeter."
Hermione snorted. "I'd prefer Voldemort to her," she replied and he snorted. "Besides, Kingsley's had Aurors over to the Daily Prophet offices and issued them with a notice. There will be an investigation into how they receive and discover their information. I imagine he also ordered that Rita Skeeter not write this article, given her hatred for me. It's a good job, too, I would've sent her something a lot worse than Canary Creams if she'd badmouthed us." He laughed at her. "I think I'll give it until Monday and then leave off terrorising her, but she'll still be going to Azkaban where she belongs."
"Yer scary when ye wanna be," he told her.
"I know," she shrugged and he snorted.
"A gotta say, Sparrow, the highlight af the evening was ye jinxing Melanie," Oliver smirked knowingly.
Hermione plastered an innocent smiled on her face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she denied.
"Hmm, so she jus' fell over by herself?"
"Yes."
"Seven times?" He said amusedly.
"It's not my fault she was wearing those ridiculous heels," she defended and he laughed at her. "Besides, you have no proof; did you once see me with my wand? No, you did not."
"Ye can do wandless an' non-verbal magic," he reminded. "An' ye told mae last night ye can cast Impedimenta wandlessly an' non-verbally," he smirked, a laughing when she winked at him. "A knew it was ye. Best part af the night," he said proudly.
They were almost finished eating their breakfast when Hermione reached for the newspaper to see what else had happened lately, and she froze with the fork halfway up to her mouth, when she noticed the date.
"What's wrong, Sparrow?" Oliver asked, leaned over to see what she was reading.
"It's the 31st July today," she whispered, setting her fork on her plate.
"Hmm, the day after our wedding," he replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
"No, it's Harry's eighteenth birthday," she said quietly, dropping the newspaper and looking down at her hands.
Oliver silently cursed. Damn it, Potter, even when you're not here you still upset her.
"Am sure they're fine wherever they are, Sparrow, but right now, we're here, in our home, eating breakfast in our bed the morning after our wedding." Her mouth tugged into a smile. "An' a don' know aboot ye, but a wanna find oot where these other tattoos are."
"Good luck with that, they're glamoured," she grinned.
"Challenge accepted," he grinned back.
He moved the tray of food onto his bedside cabinet and then he pounced on her, sending her backwards and laughing as she clutched the blanket and he tickled her relentlessly.
"Are ye gonna tell mae where they are?"
"No!"
He doubled his assault and her laughter grew louder.
"Are ye sure?"
"I'm not telling you," she protested.
He didn't let up tickling her and he leaned closer and Hermione took the opportunity to lean up and kiss him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. The tickling stopped and it turned into him trailing his hands up her body in which she responded with moaning and wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of her, and from that point, it didn't take them long before Oliver was positioned at her entrance.
"Yer sure yer fine?" He checked, searching her expression for any sign she was about to lie to him.
"I swear, I will Bat Bogey you if you ask me that one more time."
Nodding, he entered her slowly, a groan catching in his throat and her back arched into him. She was sore but she was quickly becoming accommodated with the intrusion the more they had sex. Oliver, on the other hand, swore would never get used to the feeling of her surrounding him so snugly, and he set a slow and steady rhythm, determined to drag it out for as long as possible. When she fell over the edge, he allowed himself to follow her and he collapsed on top of her before getting his breathing under control and rolling off her.
"Whose birthday was it again?" She asked and he laughed at her.
"Not a clue, Sparrow."
"I need a shower," she complained, scrunching her nose up at the feel of her clammy skin and sticky thighs, and she sat up, accio'd a towel from the bathroom, wrapped it around herself and then climbed off the bed before walking into the bathroom for the first time, not yet being comfortable enough to parade around naked.
She wasn't surprised to see the bathroom was also twice the size of the others in the apartment, and it held the same colour scheme of chocolate brown and cream, with tiled flooring and walls. The bathtub was in the centre of the room and it was sunken into the floor, being the size of a small swimming pool, the shower enclosure sat in the left corner and had frosted glass panelled doors and was big enough to fit several people. There were his and her sinks against the wall with cupboards below, a mirror sat on the wall beside the shower and the toilet was near the sinks.
Making her way to the shower, she pulled open the door, dropped the towel to the floor and stepped inside, seeing there were shelves for wash products and there was an empty space, which she presumed would be for her, and there was a bench in the right corner of the shower. There were four showerheads, two on one wall, and one on the other two and she set the temperature using the dial and she experimentally pressed one of the buttons. One showerhead showered her with water and then she pressed the button next to it, only for two showerheads to spray her with water. She sighed happily as the water covered her body from the different angles and washed away the fatigue and sweat from her morning activities, as well as the night before, being sure to wash the remainder of her makeup from her face, too.
When the door opened, she didn't startle, having already known it was going to happen and Oliver stepped in behind her, closing the door and then reaching out to tug her against him, his arms folding around her stomach as they both stood under the spray of the water, swaying happily.
Lowering her gaze, Hermione caught sight of her Ministry supplied wedding band, seeing it had changed from silver to gold.
"What're ye thinking?" Oliver asked, pressing a kiss to her neck.
Silently, she raised her hand, showing him the colour change of the wedding band.
"I'm not a virgin anymore," she muttered.
"Naw, ye really aren't," he agreed, pressing another kiss to her neck again. "Ye really do have good stamina... Twice in the span af an hour," he muttered and she laughed lightly.
She accio'd her things from her bathroom and she set about washing her hair but Oliver soon batted her hands away, poured her shampoo onto his hand and massaged it into her scalp. She rinsed it out and then repeated the process with her conditioner and after quickly washing, she swapped places with Oliver, where she washed his hair for him and he quickly washed.
They shut off the water, dried off and wrapped themselves in a towel, stepping into the bedroom as Oliver retrieved some clean underwear from his walk-in closet, and a Puddlemere jersey for Hermione to wear. Laughing, she wandlessly dried her hair and took it from him, slipped it on. It being too big for her smaller frame, it fell to mid-thigh and slipped off one shoulder.
She looked up to see Oliver looking at her heatedly and she blushed. "A knew ye'd look great in me jersey after sex."
"Technically, it was after a shower," she corrected.
"Tha' ye took 'coz a sexed yer brains oot," he shrugged smugly.
"'Sexed your brains out' isn't a phrase," she argued.
"Would ye prefer shagged? Ravished? Buggered? Fucked? Boinked?"
"Sexed is fine," she scowled. "Anyway, I'm the one with the good stamina," she shrugged, turning her back to him and making to leave the room, only she froze when she caught sight of the bed, her face flaming red, at the red stain on the sheets.
"Definitely not a virgin anymore," Oliver whispered from behind her before he kissed her cheek. "Tillie," he called and the little elf popped into the room. "Will ye please change the bedding, please?"
"Of course, Master," she bowed happily and then popped out of the room.
"Yer sure yere fine?" Oliver asked of her, concern edging his tone as he looked to the bed once more, the stain being larger than he thought it might've been.
Nodding, Hermione walked out of the room embarrassed, and she made her way to the kitchen to make a start on something for a late lunch. Oliver followed her and took a seat at the kitchen table, watching her potter about the kitchen with a happy smile. His eyes were glued to her as he knew she was bare under his jersey. His eyes widened when she would reach up and the jersey would ride up her legs, and then the jersey would fall back down into place, covering her and he would frown. She'd long since figured out what he was doing and she laughed silently.
After finishing preparing a meal of chicken and rice, she took a seat at the table and they made a start on their lunch.
"We'll have tae visit Gringotts at some point in the next week," Oliver mused aloud.
"Why?" Hermione asked, tipping her head.
"So a can add ye tae me vault," he shrugged.
"No, that isn't a stipulation of the law," she argued.
"Yer me wife, Hermione; we made the choice tae marry 'coz we loved each other an' we wanted tae. The law doesn't apply tae us. What's mine is yers, an' am adding ye tae me vault, but they'll more than likely combine our accounts," he shrugged and she scowled at him. "Ye never did tell mae hoo wealthy ye are," he reminded her.
"I received one hundred and fifty thousand from the Ministry, one hundred and twenty-five thousand from my grandfather and one hundred thousand from my parents, in addition to what was already in my vault. I reckon not far over three-hundred and seventy-five thousand galleons. And that may not seem like a lot to you seeing as your family is already wealthy and you have a high paying job, but in the Muggle World that would be equivalent to over one million muggle pounds."
He choked on his food in surprise.
Whilst he knew he had far more than that in his own personal vault, and almost double in the Wood family vault, for someone who hadn't grown up with wealth like his own, that was a hell of a lot of money. Especially for a young witch, and it was more than the average witch or wizard might see in their lifetime.
~000~000~000~
After spending most of her day with Oliver, lounging around in the library, laughing and conversing, whilst she did a little revision for her NEWTs and made a start on editing her next journal and Oliver looked through his playbooks, they'd steal glances at one another and catch each other staring.
Neither had bothered to change, so Oliver was still in his boxers and she was still wearing his jersey and she'd noticed that whenever she moved, Oliver's eyes would train on the patch of skin that revealed itself and it made her laugh when he would frown because she recovered herself from his gaze.
Whilst she was currently in the kitchen, cooking dinner, she crossed over to the sink and winced at the sting that shot through her. She was still a little sore and not being able to take Pain Potions meant that Hermione had to wait out the pain the natural way, but luckily, she was already beginning to feel the soreness leave her body. Unfortunately, Oliver just happened to enter that kitchen at that moment and a frown pulled at his brow.
"Ye told mae ye were fine."
She turned to look at his unhappy frown and folded arms.
"And I am, the soreness doesn't go away instantly but I think I'll be fine by tomorrow," she shrugged, later collecting two plates from the draining board and the cutlery from the drawer. After plating up the food, she set them on the table and took a seat with Oliver moving to sit opposite her.
As they were finishing up eating dinner, she could sense that Oliver was dying to say something. He'd been avoiding her gaze but staring at her when she wasn't looking.
"What is it, Oliver?"
He sighed and finally looked at her. "Ye'd tell mae wouldn't ye? Ye'd tell mae if a was hurtin' ye or making ye do somethin' ye dinnae wanna do?" He asked, his expression concerned and guilty.
Hermione's features softened and she pushed her chair away from the table, stood and walked over to him, Oliver tugging her to sit sideways on his lap. Her arms looped around his neck and his immediately went around her waist.
"You could never hurt me, Oliver, but if you did I would tell you. You're not making me do anything I don't want to, I make my own choices. As for the soreness, it should be gone by tomorrow. Fleur told me the first few times are always uncomfortable as the body's still getting used to the intrusion. It doesn't even hurt that much, it just stings if I move too quickly. If anything, you're being overly gentle, I know you're holding back, I can see it in your face, the way you set your jaw and clench your teeth. Your muscles tense up and your hands clench into fists," she said softly, tracing the pads of her fingers down his cheek and over his jaw and he leaned into the touch.
"Ye'd tell mae though?" He pushed.
"I promise, I will tell you," she kissed him chastely and when she drew back, she was glad to see he looked much happier.
"Ye said tha' Fleur took ye shopping in Paris, did ye happen tae buy any underwear? Particularly, what ye were wearing last night?" He asked, trailing kisses down her neck.
She blushed but nodded. "I lost count of the number of shops she dragged me into, and she pretty much purchased everything available. I have suitcases full back at the twin' flat."
Oliver groaned and he pushed her up off him before he dragged her back down so she was straddling him and he pressed his mouth against hers, slipping his tongue through her parted lips to meet with hers.
When Hermione's hips began to rock against him, searching for friction, Oliver stood with Hermione in his arms and he sat her on the kitchen table, his hand travelling between them and he slipped two fingers into her, she moaned against his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer to her, pushing his boxers down and he stepped out of them before removing his fingers from inside her and he replaced it with his length as he guided it into her. She arched her back into him and he drew back, watching her carefully for signs of pain and discomfort, being satisfied when he didn't find any. He set a slow and steady rhythm and Hermione pushed her hips to meet his thrusts whilst they both let out noises of pleasure.
"You're holding back," Hermione panted against his ear, struggling to catch her breath. "I can take it," she promised, nipping at his earlobe with her teeth.
He groaned, picked her up and moved across the kitchen until her back hit the wall and her sound of surprise was lost in Oliver's mouth as he claimed her lips. She wrapped her legs around him tighter, he pinned her against the wall and he removed her arms from around his neck and pinned them above her head, her body arching into him. He increased his rhythm and force of thrusts until she was moaning loudly and he was slamming into her, her back hitting against the wall with each thrust. Hermione's eyes fluttered open and her breath caught at the sight of Oliver staring at her, his eyes filled with hunger and passion.
Something inside Hermione snapped. She cursed loudly, threw her head back and her walls clamped around Oliver, pulling him into her. She leaned forward and her mouth latched onto his neck and she sucked over the bite wound. He tried to hold back, he did, but he couldn't and he let go, finding relief inside of her with a groan of her name.
Oliver slumped against her, pinning her to the wall and she removed her hands from his hold and folded her arms around his neck. When he was able to breathe again, he pulled her away from the wall and carried her to their bedroom with him still inside of her and her body locked tightly around his.
"Told you I could take it," she said smugly.
He laughed at her and shook his head. "Yer okay?"
"Yep, exhausted but I'm good," she promised, lowering her head to kiss him. "Wait, you didn't let me finish dinner," she scowled.
He chuckled and kicked the bedroom door shut behind them.