CHAPTER TWENTY
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: 21/05/20
Page count: 20
Puddlemere United Stadium – Monday 3rd August 1998
Monday morning came and Oliver walked with a skip in his step, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. He'd had a great morning. He'd woken to his beautiful and naked wife draped over his chest in her sleep and he'd convinced her to allow him to ravish her silly before breakfast.
As he walked down the stands of the Coach's box, his ears filled with the sounds of the team whistling, cheering and applauding.
"Here he comes! The newest member of the 'Death of the Bachelorhood Club!" Called Pallie and Oliver rolled his eyes at his dramatics as everyone clapped him on his back or shoulder. He was glad Hermione had healed his tattoo for him, otherwise, it would've hurt.
"Did you have a good weekend, Wood?" Coach Burton asked.
"Aye, a did," Oliver replied, trying to stop his mouth from twitching into a smile; that was putting it mildly. It'd been the best weekend of his life but he knew better than to tell them that.
"So, how was it?" Malloy asked wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Oliver sent him an annoyed glance but chose to ignore his words, and said, "Look, a need tae talk tae aboot somethin' befere Hermione gets here."
"Where is she?" Asked Kings, peering over his shoulder and looking towards the stands expectantly.
"She's still at the apartment scolding Quaffle fer eating her childhood teddy bear. Well, a mean she's scolding him an' he's sat there with his tail wagging an' tongue lolling oot af the side af his mouth, not givin' a damn," he corrected and they snorted. "But anyway, Hermione's got some scars tha' she's been covering with clothing and Glamours, a've convinced her tae stop doin' it, so when she gets here don' stare at her. Don' make her feel bad aboot herself 'coz ye have naw idea hoo long it took mae tae get her tae show mae one scar, let alone all of them," he warned.
"They can't be that bad," Wilks frowned. "You've seen the scars we get from Quidditch."
"Her scars are from war" Oliver muttered, pushing a hand through his hair. Hearing Quaffle's barks, he twisted to look over his shoulder, seeing Hermione approaching and he frowned when he saw her wearing a cover-up. "Ye promised," he said.
"I haven't Glamoured them," she argued, "But I don't I'm ready to let people see them yet."
"A've seen them an' so have our family. Ye went intae Muggle London yesterday withoot Glamouring them," he replied.
"That's different. You and my family won't judge me and no one was paying attention to us in Muggle London."
"Rules six, forty-nine an' fifty-four," he reminded.
Hermione scowled. "You're using my own rules against me. I never should've told you what they are," she grouched.
"What rules?" Thompson arched an eyebrow.
"Hermione's rules tae havin' a happy life an' surviving living with her," Oliver explained.
"And are we expected to learn these rules?" Bishop asked amusedly.
"I suppose so," Hermione shrugged, "It'll make your lives easier."
"And the rules Wood mentioned?" Fox prompted with interest.
"Rule six, you shouldn't care what others think of you. Rule forty-nine, be who you are and don't hide your true self. And rule fifty-four, don't let others dictate your life. You make your own choices."
"Well, it seems you're contradicting yourself by covering your scars," Pallie's mouth twitched into a smirk, Hermione scowled at him in annoyance and Oliver sent him a thankful look.
That day she'd chosen to wear a spaghetti strap summer dress with a v-neck and it fell to her mid-thigh. It started off white and faded into peach, she wore her hair in a messy bun with a pair of white ballet pumps and a white cover-up. Sighing in defeat, she reluctantly removed the cover-up, their eyes widening in surprise but not at her scars, rather the tattoo on her collar bone.
"Is that a tattoo?" Malloy choked out as he stared at it.
"Yes, I have four."
"Four!?" They spluttered.
"Yes, four," she confirmed. Gesturing to her shoulder and ankle, their eyes following as she twisted to show them off.
"You said you have four," Kings mentioned, having only seen three.
"I do, but the other one is in a place that only Oliver will see," she replied. Oliver smirked.
"Lucky bastard," muttered Malloy.
"Oliver's got one as well," Hermione added, taking the attention away from herself.
"You do?" Thompson arched an eyebrow.
"Aye, we went intae Muggle London yesterday. Our tattoo artist turned oot tae be a wizard an' we've invited him ta the game on Wednesday an' the after-party. Hermione's comin' with us, she reckons she can drink us under the table."
The team arched identical eyebrows, something that was a little frightening.
"Muggle alcohol's twice as strong as wizarding alcohol, you don't stand a chance against me," she shrugged.
"We'll have to wait and see then, I look forward to seeing you try and out-drink us," Briggs challenged.
"You have to win first," Hermione pointed out.
"So, Mrs. Wood," Malloy emphasised the name, a smirk pulling at his mouth. Oliver was immediately put on edge, hearing the teasing tone in his voice.
"Yes?"
"How was Mr. Wood? We've heard rumours and we're curious. Is he better than your previous boyfriends?" He asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Oliver felt Hermione shift uncomfortably beside him.
"I wouldn't know," she admitted with a blush to her cheeks.
She had to give herself some credit, since their wedding night Hermione was getting more comfortable talking about sex and she got less embarrassed. Before, her entire face would've flamed red and now only her cheeks had filled with colour. It wouldn't be long before she would feel completely comfortable with the subject and she gave the team a taste of their own medicine.
"I don't get it," Wilks said, his head tipping in confusion, his expression being mirrored by the rest of the team.
"I wouldn't know, I have nothing to compare him to."
They looked at her strangely until a look of understanding crossed their faces and then they looked at her in disbelief.
"Wait, you were a... When you...With him..." Malloy said speechless, his mouth parted and his eyes widened. Hermione nodded, the blush on her cheeks darkening. "But you dated Viktor Krum!" He exclaimed.
"Yes, when I was fifteen. There was a reason we broke up. I wouldn't give in to him pressuring me and I couldn't give him the attention he wanted because I was too busy focusing on keeping Harry alive. After him, there was a muggle boy, but it didn't last long and then there was the war, I never had time for a relationship"
"But you were on the run for a year with two boys," Kings said disbelievingly.
"Okay, that's disgusting," she shuddered, her face scrunching up in disgust and Oliver chuckled. "Harry and Ron were like my brothers."
"But..."
"No, now if we're done discussing my marriage and sex life, you have training to be getting on with and I have an office to check out."
Not waiting for a response, she turned and ascended the stands before she halted mid-step, twisting to look behind her. "Oh, by the way, Malloy, I do have amazing stamina."
His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open and her laughter echoed as she continued her climb.
"You told her!?" He spluttered accusingly.
"No, he didn't!" Hermione called from halfway up the stands and everyone's eyes widened.
"How did she hear that?"
"I have enhanced hearing from a bad experience with a werewolf!" She shouted with Oliver and Coach Burton laughing at their horrified expressions as she stepped into the building.
"You mean she heard me?" Malloy asked Oliver, looking both mortified and horrified.
"Aye, she did," he said amusedly before he mounted his broom and flew onto the pitch, taking his position by the hoops.
"You're seriously telling me that she was a virgin?" Malloy said shocked, following after him with the rest of the team in two.
"Told ye she wasn't like Melanie," he shrugged.
"But how's that even possible? With the way she looks? She can't have been short of gust tryna get with her." He said in disbelief. "Are you sure she wasn't lying?"
Oliver pinned him with a glare. "Aye, am sure. Tha's not somethin' tha' can be faked. Ye wanna see the damn bedsheets?" Oliver snapped. Malloy paled a little.
"What's this tattoo she mentioned?" Pallie butted in, defusing the tension.
"None af yer business," Oliver replied.
"We'll see it in the locker room," he pointed out, amused.
Oliver shrugged, not caring and when he shifted his weight on his broom, Thompson caught sight of something on his neck.
"Wood? Is that a bite mark?" He asked.
"What?"
"Is that a bite mark?" He repeated looking both surprised and amused.
"Aye," he replied, knowing they wouldn't leave him alone unless he answered.
"Hermione bit you?" Malloy said stunned.
Oliver shrugged. "Aye, a guess am jus' tha' good," he said with a smirk and they scoffed and rolled their eyes at him. "It wasn't her fault," he defended, "As she said, she had a bad experience with a werewolf an' she's taken on some af their qualities. She isnae a werewolf, she jus' has enhanced senses an' she sometimes feels the urge tae mark me." They blinked slowly and he snorted at them. "A should warn ye, Hermione told mae the full moon affects her mood an' she'll be snappy an' territorial over mae. The next full moon's this Saturday so be careful an' make sure ye keep the bitches away from her. A havnae been with her fer a full moon yet so a don' know hoo she'll react."
~000~000~000~
Hermione stood in her office, taking it all in. It was on the same corridor as the locker rooms and Coach Burton's office, just further down, making it so she was close by if she was needed. Her office door was white and it had a gold plaque that read 'Hermione Wood, Junior Coach', a smile having pulled at her mouth at the first glimpse of her name change.
Her office held a colour scheme of cream and beige, the three walls in the room being beige with cream accents whilst the floor to ceiling windows replaced the wall behind her desk, allowing for plenty of natural light. The soft carpet beneath her feet was also beige, her large desk was made of dark wood and a comfy cream-coloured chair tucked under the desk with two matching chairs sitting on the other side of the desk. On the back wall, she had a comfortable cream leather couch with a dark glass coffee table and an identical couch on the other side of it, and dark coloured cushions sat on the couch as well as on the desk chairs for comfort.
On the right wall, sat a comfortable cream lounge chair, she'd removed some framed photos from her bag that she'd brought with her and she placed them around the office on the walls, giving it a personal touch. On the left wall sat a bookcase that was filled to the brim with books, files and folders, all in organised in alphabetical order and a plush cream rug sat on the floor in front of it. On either side of the bookcase, there was a door. One door led to a storage cupboard Hermione had fitted with an Undetectable Extension Charm before she'd resized the equipment for her obstacle courses and neatly place them inside the cupboard. The other door led to a bathroom, it being decorated in the same colours as the office and it held a shower, sink, toilet, some shelves for wash products and a large mirror.
As lunch approached, Hermione left her office and made her way the Coach's box, unfortunately, crossing paths with the gathered wives and girlfriends of the team.
Fabulous.
"I see you've finally decided to stop denying the fact that you're ugly and to show the world what you really look like," Megan remarked and the other witches laughed cruelly. "Nice scars," she said snidely.
Hermione resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh. She'd never met a group of people so annoying in all her life, and that included the majority of the Slytherins from Hogwarts. At least their insults had been original and based on her swottish tendencies and blood status, not her appearance.
"I see you have a tramp stamp, how fitting."
Looks as though they have a new leader, Hermione thought with a roll of her eyes.
"Before you insult me, I suggest you fact check beforehand. I don't have a tramp stamp, that is reserved for tattoos on the small of the back, you idiot," Hermione rolled her eyes. "But whilst you're here, I'll inform you of the rule changes. As of today, all members of the public are required to wear clothing that covers their femurs, and I can see that confused look on your face, so basically that means from your hips to your knees, and they must be covered at all times, as well as cleavage and stomachs. This is a place of work, not a fashion show. There is a level of professionalism that must be kept."
They looked confused, horrified, angry and surprised, all at once.
"Your clothing doesn't fit into that category," Megan sneered.
Hermione smiled sweetly. "That is correct, but I am not a member of the public; I am a member of staff. I will give you a pass for today but tomorrow I expect to see some changes, otherwise, there will be consequences. Do not test me."
Pinning them with a look of warning, she turned and continued with her journey to the Coach's box to give the team their lunch, but when she reached the door, a hex whizzed past her ear. She froze in her steps, her body tensing before she turned to see Megan with her wand aimed at her, a glare set on her face and the other women stood slightly behind, watching the two of them carefully, warily.
"Are you certain you wish to do this?" Hermione checked, her expression calm. Megan hissed another hex, it whizzing past Hermione once more. The aim was so far off Hermione didn't bother moving to dodge it, she didn't have to. "Very well."
Hermione and Megan circled each other until Megan stood before the open door that led to the Coach's box and Hermione stood opposite. her
"Ducklifors," Megan cast. Hermione stepped out of the way. "Confudo!"
She stepped to the side and as Megan continued to throw hexes and spells at her, her anger growing with each target missed, Hermione was growing incredibly bored. She had better things to be doing than wasting her time.
"Flipendo," Hermione cast confidently, her eyes narrowed dangerously and a scream of terror left her lips as she was propelled back and out of the door. and forcefully and her eyes narrowed on Megan. Megan screamed as she was pushed back through the open door.
~000~000~000~
As Coach Burton called lunch, Oliver flew down to the Coach's box and dismounted his broom, setting it off to the side and propping it against the railing, his teammates mimicking his actions, their attention being pulled by Quaffle when he began barking.
"What's the matter with him?" Bishop asked.
Oliver's brow furrowed as he looked to the animal in confusion before dread and alarm began to fill him; the only time Quaffle had barked like that was when Hermione had been attacked in Diagon Alley, but before Oliver could process it or attempt to move and go in search of her, an ear-piercing scream tore through the air. They all lifted their eyes, seeing someone being propelled through the air they screamed hysterically.
Hermione stepped out onto the stands and Oliver breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't appear injured. Even from the distance between them, they were able to see Hermione raising her arm and the moment she did, Megan suddenly halted mid-fall, being held in place and bobbing about in the air.
With her arm held out and locked in place, she slowly descended the stands, making her way towards the team who watched her with wide, surprised eyes and their mouths hung open, her own gaze locked on the shrieking witch. When she was close enough, Oliver reached out, slotted his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, his own eyes darting between her and Megan.
Muttering beneath her breath and lowering her arm, Megan was lowered to the ground, following the speed of Hermione's lowering arm until it was by her side and Megan's feet touched the floor, the witch stumbling in her ridiculously tall heels, her body shaking and her eyes wide and fearful. She looked at Bishop expectantly but he was too busy staring at Hermione to notice.
"Don't look at Bishop like that," Hermione warned, Megan's attention snapping to her. "He has nothing to do with this; you're the one that tried to hex me when my back was turned," she said calmly and Oliver's hold on her tightened, his eyes narrowing distrustfully."And don't look at me like that either. I warned you not to raise your wand to me. I'm a war veteran, my scars may not be pretty but they show that I survived. You raising your wand to me was one of the stupidest things I've ever seen. I fought in war, I've battle experience, you don't. If you think that a weak and poorly cast Stinging Hex and some bitchiness is going to scare me, you are severely mistaken."
Oliver was in awe of his wife and he was seriously turned on; he was glad she was partially stood in front of him, otherwise, everyone would be able to see his predicament.
"I've had enough of the way you treat people; you're not superior to anyone, especially here, you have no power or authority. You're a member of the public and you have no say or sway in how this team is run. I will give you one more chance. If you don't follow the rules that have been implemented you will be prohibited from entering these grounds and from attending all home matches."
Megan nodded meekly and then with one last look to Hermione and the team, she made her way quickly up the stands and into the building, disappearing from view.
"That was brilliant!" Thompson laughed.
Hermione lifted her gaze to see Coach Burton's proud expression and when she looked to Oliver, he was watching her with lust-filled eyes and she could feel the bulge in his practice robes pressed against her back and she blushed a little.
"What rules did you implement?" Coach Burton asked curiously.
"That they have to wear clothing that covers their cleavage, stomachs and down to the knees. I always feel a little sick when I see everything hanging out," she scrunched up her face in disgust and the team laughed disbelieving. "You'll probably be dealing with pissed off partners from now on, but send them my way and I'll sort them out."
"I'll say, that was amazing," Pallie shook his head. "Where's your wand?" He asked, seeing she didn't have it in her hand.
"In my office," she replied, missing their looks of surprise as she dug their lunch from her beaded bag, handing the brown paper bag to Pallie.
"We need tae talk," Oliver said as calmly as he could, trying to keep his face passive.
Hermione nodded and then she and Oliver turned to walk up the stands, Hermione feeling Oliver's heated gaze on her as she made her way to her office. Before Hermione had even closed the door behind them, Oliver had her pinned against the wall and had latched his mouth against hers.
"Tha' was the sexiest thing a've ev'r seen," he mumbled against her lips and in-between kisses.
His hands settled on her hips and he hiked up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he pressed her into the wall, kissing her neck and paying special attention to her tattoo on her collar bone.
"We're at work," she muttered, being out of breath from the kiss.
"Ye bein' me boss has its advantages," he mumbled against her skin and she gasped when his tongue traced her tattoo.
"Someone could walk in," she argued.
He pulled away from her, drew his wand from inside his robes and silenced the room and locked the door before dropping his wand to the floor and returning his lips to her neck. He had her pressed into the wall and was grinding himself against her and she could feel herself giving in. Before she knew it, she reached down between them and fiddled with the ties on his bottoms.
She was getting frustrated, so she pushed him away from her and he looked at her disappointed but she whispered a spell and his bottoms untied and then fell down to his ankles along with his boxers, with a second whispered incantation, her underwear disappeared. Oliver groaned in appreciation as he lifted her dress out of the way, dipped his hand in-between them to make sure she was ready for him and he groaned loudly when he found she was more than ready.
He positioned himself and then with one thrust he entered her and they both moaned with Hermione clenching around him. He set a steady pace before it became too much and he increased his thrusts, Hermione clinging to him and tugging at his hair and they watched each other, Oliver shifted slightly and it resulted in him catching the little bundle of nerves and Hermione gave a breathless moan and flung her head back against the wall. She clamped down on him and cried his name before she leaned forward and sucked at his bite mark. Oliver's relief was torn from him as he pressed her into the wall harder, keeping them both upright until they got their breathing back under control and strength returned to his limbs.
"They're going to know what we've been up to," Hermione sighed, running her hands through his hair and massaging at his scalp.
"Maybe, but they won't say anythin' 'coz they're scared af ye, even more so after what they jus' witnessed." Hermione laughed at him. "Seriously, it was brilliant, an' ye stood up fer yerself aboot yer scars, yer've accepted they're a part af ye," he smiled, pressing a kiss to her mouth before he set her back on her feet.
He steadied her when she wobbled before he righted his clothing and tied his bottoms and Hermione found her underwear on the floor and slipped them back on. After muttering a Cleaning Charm to freshen them up and make them more presentable, she reached up to try and sort Oliver's messy hair to make it less obvious as to what they'd been doing.
"Let's go and face the music," she said, Oliver collecting his wand from the floor and after unlocking the door, they left her office hand in hand.
~000~000~000~
Ireland - Wednesday 5th August 1998
Hermione and Oliver were in their hotel room after winning the match against the Ballycastle Bats. It was a nice spacious room with pale yellow walls and a white carpet. The large king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the wall with white bedding and yellow cushions. There were two white chests of drawers against the back wall and a desk and table against the left wall by the window. A door led to the bathroom on the back wall and a balcony door sat on the left wall, there were two soft yellow couches in the centre of the room with a coffee table and a white lounge chair near the balcony doors. The bathroom was decorated in the same pale yellow and white with a large sunken bathtub, a shower enclosure, his and her sinks, a toilet, a mirror and a bathroom cabinet.
Hermione had no idea what to wear for the after-party and brought with her a number of outfits and shoes, and she was currently searching through her bags when she spotted Oliver sitting on the bed and rolling his shoulders.
Pausing a moment, she turned her attention to searching for her cream before she fished it out and crossed over to him, instructing Oliver to take off his shirt and lie down on his stomach. He looked at her with a smirk but did as she asked before she climbed onto the bed and moved to straddle Oliver's back. After she rubbed the cream into her hands, she leaned over and pressed her hands against him, kneading his sore muscles and he sighed happily.
"Best Quidditch wife ev'r," he mumbled, his face buried in the cushion he'd folded his arms around and Hermione chuckled.
"I'm glad you let me heal your injuries."
"It was one bruise an' a stayed on me broom."
"Still, I don't like seeing you hurt and when I can do something to ease your pain, I will," she said softly.
"A really am lucky tae have a natural healer as a wife, especially given me career."
They chatted for a little while until Hermione put the lid back on the cream.
"What am I supposed to wear tonight?" She asked and Oliver shrugged. "Come on, you have to help me. Do I wear a summer dress and flats, a pair of jeans and a jumper or a cocktail dress and heels?"
"Whatever ye want, Sparrow, whatever ye feel comfortable in."
She huffed. "Oh, you're no help at all," she grumbled, climbing off and he chuckled at her before standing and heading for a quick shower as she glowered at her bag and its contents.
~000~000~000~
They were preparing to leave since Liam and the team would be waiting for them in the hotel foyer. Oliver was wearing a light blue form-fitting button-down shirt, blue jeans, white trainers and a black jacket.
"Hermione, we're gonna be late," Oliver called from his place perched on the edge of the bed.
"Alright, I'm coming, keep your hair on!" She called back.
Oliver rolled his eyes. She'd said that half an hour ago, too, and when she finally stepped out of the bathroom, his mouth pulled into a smile.
She'd finally decided on what to wear after realising that they were likely going to be spotted by photographers and she wanted to look like she belonged with the team. As such, she'd settled on a blush pink chiffon cocktail dress with a scooped neckline and natural waist and it reached her mid-thigh. It had bold straps that reached around to the back and tied off with a bow, the bodice had glitter embellishments that sparkled in the light beautifully and the layered skirt flared out. She left her hair down in shiny, soft ringlets but pinned it back from her face with some glittery hairpins. She had on a pair of glitter strappy heels -with all the appropriate Balancing and Cushioning Charms- that made her legs look longer and she wore her cuff bracelet, her necklace and a pair of diamond-studded earrings. Her ankle and shoulder tattoos were on full display and as usual, she was makeup-free, not trusting herself.
"Ye look stunning," Oliver complimented, standing and crossing over to her, pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.
"Thank you," she smiled up at him. "It's not too much, is it?"
"Ye look perfect," he promised. "Are ye ready?"
"I'm ready," she nodded, Oliver taking her hand and leading her out of the room and down to the hotel foyer, where everyone was already there and waiting for them.
The team whistled and applauded when they saw Hermione as she approached and she blushed.
"Looking good, Junior Coach," Malloy winked and when Hermione was close enough, she punched him in the arm.
"Ow!" He whined, looking to her in surprise as the others sniggered. "That hurt, you've got an arm on you," he muttered.
"What did I say about calling me that?"
"Not to do it," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze and they all sniggered.
"That's right, don't do it again," she scolded. "Liam, it's good to see you again." Hermione greeted the tattoo artist. "Have they been nice to you?" She asked eyeing the team suspiciously and they smiled angelically. She snorted.
"Yeah, been sharing some stories," he said amusedly.
"I bet they have. Did you bring the muggle alcohol?"
"Got it right here in my pocket," he tapped his left jacket pocket.
"You ready to show them how it's done?"
"More than ready," he grinned.
They made their way out of the hotel and walked off the grounds and it didn't take them long to reach the first wizarding club and when the bouncer recognised them, she wasn't surprised they were allowed straight entry. They found a group of tables and some of the boys headed off to the bar, returning with a round of fire whiskey.
The team watched Hermione carefully and she rolled her eyes, picked up her tumbler and downed the fiery liquid, setting the tumble on the table as she felt the liquid burn her throat, but she didn't cough or splutter.
"What?" She arched an eyebrow, noticing their surprised but impressed expressions.
"Nothing," Oliver smiled, tucking her into his side and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
More drinks were bought and they stayed for an hour before moving onto the next club where they were treated the same, immediately being let in and they grabbed tables and bought drinks and they, of course, attracted the attention of most of the ladies and a few of the men, too.
Ten minutes later, Malloy and Hermione were staring each other down whilst the others watched them in amusement.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hermione asked.
"Obviously," Malloy replied, rolling his eyes.
A smirk played at Hermione's lips. "I don't know, I don't want to embarrass you," she said lightly and they all laughed at her as Malloy arched an eyebrow.
They each had ten shot glasses sat before them whilst the team surrounded them, and some of the patrons gathered around their tables. Silently, Hermione picked up the bottle of vodka and removed the lid before filling up the shot glasses and Malloy did the same with a second bottle of vodka.
"I'm warning you, Mate, that stuff can make you pretty ill, especially if you drink it straight and don't mix it with anything," warned Liam, but Malloy simply waved off his concerns and the tattoo artist chuckled and held his hands up in defeat, sitting back into his seat and waiting.
"Go!" Those around them chanted.
Hermione reached out and selected two shots, downing them one after the after before sitting the glass on the table upside down to show they were empty.
"Strong start for Hermione," Thompson said, commentating on the challenge.
Malloy shrugged casually, not appearing to be impressed as he selected two shot glasses and downed them both, coughing in surprise as Hermione and Liam shared a smirk.
"Fuck, that stuff's strong," he spluttered.
"And a wobbly start for Malloy," said Thompson. "Hermione's up next and she downs another two without pause."
Malloy narrowed his eyes before selecting another two shots and downing them, coughing once more.
"It's even worse the second time!" He spluttered and laughter surrounded them.
"Hermione takes the lead and is holding strong as she downs another two shots, bringing her total up to a strong six!"
Malloy picked up two and threw them back, holding better than the last time.
"And it's a tie with six...And Hermione drinks another two, putting her in the lead, eight to six!"
Malloy picked up two shots but was only able to drink one. The team and the crowd cheering him on loudly, encouraging to drink the other.
"Sorry, but I can't do it. That stuff's got a fucking kick to it," he slurred a little, applause and cheers ringing out as Hermione gave him a victorious look, arrogantly flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Anyone else want to try?" She asked, her eyes searching for challengers and Kings stepped up.
Once more, Thompson commentated enthusiastically, the crowd and team encouraged Kings and cheered him on but Hermione beat him with six shots to his five.
After that everyone but Kings and Malloy had two shots of vodka and it was worth it to see their priceless expressions. Hermione and Liam shared a high-five as the team let out a collective "Fuck!" And slammed their glasses against the table.
"You weren't kidding," Pallie shook his head. "That stuff's bloody strong." He slapped himself on the chest and she laughed.
"Told you, muggle alcohol," she said smugly.
Oliver snorted before he stood and headed to the bar, it being his turn to buy the next round of drinks. As he was waiting for his order to be completed, he was approached by two witches, both having blonde hair, one with blue eyes and the other green and they were both wearing dresses that barely covered their arses.
"Hey, handsome, congratulations on your win today," the green-eyed witch purred, fluttering her eyelashes.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "It was a team effort," he replied calmly, hoping they'd leave him be. They didn't.
"Well, I think a win like that deserves a reward, don't you, Cassie?"
"I do, Millie," the blue-eyed witch replied and as one, they both moved closer to him and because he was stood at the bar, he couldn't take a step back.
"A'll pass, a have a wife."
"Hermione Granger, right?" The witch identified as Cassie said.
"Hermione Wood," Oliver corrected, his tone growing cold and annoyed.
"We've read about her, surely she can't give you what you need or what we're offering you," Millie purred, lifting her hand and she ran her fingers up his arm, in a move he assumed was supposed to be seductive but he thought it was repulsive.
He narrowed his eyes a little tighter and shrugged her hand off his arm.
"We can give you things she can't," Cassie promised, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
"Anythin' ye can give mae, me wife can give mae twice as good. She keeps mae happy all on her own. What does tha' say aboot ye, if it takes twa af ye tae please one man?" He said evenly. "A love me wife an' a'll never betray her. Ye should find someone else tae throw yerselves at, may as well use the rest af what little dignity ye have left."
Looking way from their outraged expressions, he smiled his thanks to the barman before levitating the tray of drinks back to the table, seeing Hermione teasing Wilks as his teammates howled and cried with laughter.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked quietly as everyone grabbed their drinks and he took a seat beside her.
"Aye, never better," he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her mouth. The team "awed" and made kissing sounds and Hermione and Oliver rolled her eyes. "Ye wanna get oot af here?" Oliver said into Hermione's ear. She lifted her eyes, searching his expression carefully before she nodded, accepting his hand as he helped her to her feet.
"Oi, where are you two going?" Bishop asked.
"Back to the hotel, it's almost one in the morning and the port-key leaves at eleven o'clock," Hermione answered.
"You just wanna shag your wife," Malloy snorted and Hermione blushed.
"Tha' tae," Oliver replied shamelessly, grinning at Hermione unapologetically when she thumped him in the arm.
"I want you all back by three, at the latest," Hermione told them and they nodded. "Good, watch out for each other," she instructed before she and Oliver took their leave.
"Don't forget Silencing Charms!" The team chorused, laughing uproariously when Oliver turned around and give them the middle finger.
~000~000~000~
Oliver observed Hermione carefully as they entered their hotel room; she didn't seem drunk, maybe a little tipsy, but not drunk. He didn't understand it; she'd consumed more alcohol than him. Hell, she'd drunk more than half the team combined and she was perfectly fine.
"Sparrow?" He asked as he closed the door and she kicked off her heels, sighing in relief before she sat on the bed and started rubbing her aching feet.
"Hmm?"
Oliver crossed over to her, took a seat beside her and pulled her feet into his lap, Hermione sighing happily when he started rubbing her right foot.
"Best husband ever," she mumbled and he chuckled.
"Hoo aren't ye drunk? Ye had more than mae an' half the team combined an' ye weren't kidding aboot tha' muggle stuff being stronger. A watched ye down almost twenty shots af it. It was downright impressive an' sexy as hell, but ye should be slurring an' stumbling an' require the need af a Hangover Potion."
She laughed at him. "Okay, I'll tell you but you can't tell the team, they'll be pissed." He nodded in agreement. "I took a Sobriety Potion before we left, to fight off the effects of the alcohol for a short while and my metabolism's a lot faster than the average person's. It's why I struggled to put on weight. My body burns off the alcohol and food a lot faster than yours. But I am also not currently drunk because I only drank fire whiskey, and when no one was looking, I changed the first four shots I did with Malloy and Bishop into water, so I haven't had more than eight actual shots of vodka."
Oliver blinked slowly before laughing and shaking his head.
"Tha's brilliant," he complimented.
"I told you I could drink you all under the table, but I didn't say I wouldn't do it without cheating," she shrugged and he snorted. "I could actually do it if I weren't wearing heels, I didn't want to risk getting drunk and falling over."
"Ye, me beautiful little witch, are amazing," he smiled.
When he saw her mischievous smile and eyes, his own darkened in response and seeing this, Hermione shuffled back on the bed and he followed before pouncing on her, drawing laughter from her.
~000~000~000~
Ireland - Thursday 6th August 1998
Oliver woke the next morning to a naked Hermione draped over him in her sleep.
'I love my life, he thought happily.
It didn't take long for her to rouse from sleep and after a thorough ravishing, they showered and readied for the day, later ensuring they'd packed everything away and hadn't left anything.
Once they were done, they left their room, walking along the corridor and banging on every door that housed a member of the team until they heard angry grumbles and curses before the doors were pulled open. Oliver and Hermione sniggered, in each doorway stood a hungover wizard, all of them glaring at them.
Hermione smiled sweetly. "You have two hours before the port-key is scheduled to leave," she informed them, their glares hardening before doors were slammed shut. Hermione and Oliver looked at each other and laughed.
"Are we waking Liam ?"
"No, he's got his own port-key that isn't due to leave until tomorrow. I'll leave a note at reception to give to him before we leave," she replied and he nodded before they returned to their room.
An hour later, Hermione and Oliver were laid on the stomachs side by side on their bed talking, when there was a bang on the door, and Hermione stood and crossed over to it, opening it to see the team were all stood on the other side and looking a lot better than they did earlier that morning. The waltzed into the room without invitation and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Hello, Hermione. Oh, hi there, boys. Thank you for waking us this morning so we didn't get stranded in Ireland. Oh, it's no problem boys, honestly," she chirped and they snorted at her.
Closing the door over, she crossed over to the bed and laid on her stomach beside Oliver once more, watching as the team all find seats on the couches, the lounge chair and Thompson hopped up on the bed and laid on his stomach beside Hermione, giving her a cheeky grin when she arched an eyebrow at him.
"How are you feeling?" She asked them.
"Better now that we've had a Hangover Potion," Wilks answered, "Still feel a bit rough though," he muttered and the others nodded in agreement.
"Well, training starts at two o'clock, don't think you're getting out of it."
They groaned in disappointment.
"How are you perfectly fine?" Malloy asked surprised. "You drank a lot last night, especially that muggle stuff and it was strong as hell."
She shrugged. "Guess I have a higher alcohol tolerance than you lot," she replied innocently and Oliver bit the side of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. "I told you that I can drink you under the table."
"We didn't think you were serious," Bishop shook his head.
"Yeah, nobody expected you to drink close to twenty shots of muggle alcohol and almost fifteen fire whiskeys like it was nobody's business," said Kings.
"I hope Megan doesn't go on a rampage when we get back, the potion hasn't taken full effect yet and I've got a headache," Bishop whined.
His complaint reminded Hermione of something she'd wanted to ask the team but she hadn't found the time or place to do it, or the courage if she was honest. It was quite personal what she wished to know.
Gathering her Gryffindor courage, she said, "Can I ask you something personal?" She looked at each member of the team and they each nodded slowly, hesitantly. "Why do you stay with them? Your wives and girlfriends? Well, I get the wives, but why do you stay with those women?"
"To be honest, I don't know why I've stayed with Jenny this long," Thompson admitted and she turned to see his pensive expression. "We've been engaged for three years now. She didn't use to be so... High maintenance," he settled for. "She used to be a lot more laid back and less demanding. But ever since I put a ring on her finger, she's been mean and bitchy. I'm not sure which is the fake Jenny and which is the real Jenny," he shrugged.
Hermione knew but she didn't wish to say anything. To Hermione, it sounded like Thompson had been played by someone who wanted to be married to a Quidditch Star. She wanted fame, money and attention and marrying a Quidditch player would give that to her.
"So, why do you stay with her?" She pressed softly, nudging his shoulder with hers and the team remained silent, looking pensive themselves.
"Familiarity, I guess," he shrugged. "I know what to expect of her, but seeing you and Wood being paired and how happy you are together, it's made me think if maybe that's the best option for me. To break off the engagement with Jenny and be eligible for the law, you never know, I may be lucky and get paired with someone I can get along with."
Hermione smiled softly and she rested her head against his shoulder as she shared a glance with Oliver.
"It's the same for me." Hermione looked to Bishop. "I've been engaged for almost three years, but when I think about the wedding, I don't see myself as being happy. Not like you and Wood are. I feel dread and panic. Megan's always been high strung but even more so after I proposed. She loves the attention she gets from the press, even if it's only a mention in passing. I can't believe she tried to hex you when your back was turned," he sighed, running his hand through his hair.
"It's not your fault," she assured him softly. "It was her choice to do that. I did warn her not to do it and I could've hurt her but I didn't."
"Since you popped up in our lives, I've been thinking about whether or not I should risk breaking off the engagement. I could get someone worse than Megan or..."
"You could get someone better," Hermione finished for him, nodding.
"Has Melanie really tried it on with all of you?" Malloy asked, showing vulnerability and it took Hermione by surprise. She'd never seen him look anything but happy, he was always teasing and laughing, or yelling if she hexed him.
The team nodded.
"Sorry, Mate," said Wilks. Malloy nodded sadly.
"Not your fault," he shrugged, his gaze locked on the ground. "I can't believe she wore that coconut oil after you told her not to. I hate that stuff, it's greasy," his nose scrunched up in disgust.
Oliver was floored. He couldn't believe they were talking to Hermione about their lives. He couldn't believe they were being so open with each other. They looked so dejected and vulnerable and it surprised him as he looked to Hermione in awe. He knew he had someone special and at such a young age, too. Oliver was twenty-two but Hermione was the youngest on the team being only eighteen, all the players were older than the both of them. The third youngest player was Thompson at twenty-five and the oldest player was Fox at thirty-five.
"Victoria's a right pain in the arse," Kings admitted. "All she does is complains about everything... She doesn't get enough recognition in the street, she has to cover herself at the stadium, she weighs too much, that dress is too ugly, that dress doesn't fit... And she hates that you're my boss," he sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.
"Hannah tried to hex you, as well; I can't believe she'd even try that. Not only was it stupid, but she's useless when it comes to spells, unless it is for cosmetics," Wilks said and Hermione resisted the urge to chuckle.
"I sometimes wonder if I made the right choice proposing to Laura," Pallie confessed, clasping his hands together and staring down at them. "That's why you propose to someone right? Because you love them. Lately, I've been trying to figure out if I still love her, or if I ever did," he paused for a moment. "She loves spending the galleons I earn on ridiculous clothing and makeup. We live together and she follows me to work, I don't really get any time alone or away from her."
Hermione would swear her heart broke into two as her eyes carefully examined the crestfallen and confused expressions of her team.
"I'm sorry," she began softly, "If any of you want me to ban them from the stadium, I would be more than happy to," Her words pulled a chuckle and a small smile from them. "You deserve better. I know how hard you work to improve, I know how much you love your job and the sport and you all deserve someone that understands that. Someone that won't take advantage of you. I know you, I know you like to tease and taunt until I want to break your nose..." Oliver snorted and she sent him a glare and he looked away quickly, amusing the team. "But I know that you are all kind, generous, respectful men and you deserve someone who can see that. What you need to do is go away and think about whether or not you want to risk the marriage law. As far as we're aware, you be exempt, but if you aren't and you do get a match, if you don't know who they are, I'll find out what I can for you. The same for you," she looked at the reserves. "I know you're married and if you want to, you can get a divorce, the only problem is, if you didn't have a prenup your wives can take half of what you own. But I can put you in touch with some good lawyers if needs be. Do you all live with your partners? Well, obviously the married men do, but do the rest of you?"
"I have my own apartment, and Laura comes over whenever she wants to. She won't leave so, yes, she practically lives with me," Pallie shrugged, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone.
"The same for the rest of you?" She questioned and they all nodded, being in similar situations. "Well, I know that Oliver and I like our privacy..." He gave her a strange look and she turned to him. "I'll make it worth your while," she whispered in promise. He groaned and dropped his head on the bed and she smirked before turning back to the others who'd arched their eyebrows at their hushed interaction. "As I was saying, I know that Oliver and I like our privacy, but, if you want to get away from your partners, you can come to our apartment whenever you need to. As long as you owl ahead or floo call to let us know first. Hell, there's four spare bedrooms so if you want to stay the night you can."
They all looked at her stunned and Oliver grumbled under his breath.
"You're being serious?" Kings said surprised. She nodded.
"Wood?" Thompson asked.
He sighed and lifted his head from the mattress. "Aye, ye can stay with us if ye need tae," he agreed and Hermione beamed at him. "Ye may as well work a bloody rota oot fer ye all tae make it fair, ye each spend one night uninterrupted at the apartment," he grumbled with the team chuckling when Hermione thumped him in the arm. "A'd advise against spending the night though, a've more injuries from Hermione than a do Quidditch."
She thumped him once more and the team sniggered.
"Anyway, you can stay with us whenever you want or need to. You know what, the next victory party, we'll have it at our apartment," she offered. Oliver looked to her questioning and she smiled at him before he grumbled in defeat. "You can have a tour of the apartment, they'll only be us there so we don't have to deal with the fans or press and we won't have to get anyone to look after Quaffle. You can wear pyjamas for all I care and you can all get drunk until you pass out on the floor. Yes, that's what we'll do," she nodded to herself.
"Told you we'd see your apartment, Wood," Thompson grinned, breaking the tension in the room and Oliver dropped his face into the bedding, grumbling under his breath as they laughed.