CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Summary: With the War finally won and a rapid decline in the wizarding population, drastic measures are taken in a bid to save Wizarding Britain with the introduction of a new Marriage Law. Under the law, Hermione is forced to marry at eighteen or face being exiled from the Wizarding World. She must learn to deal with her past and look forward to her future with rising Quidditch Star, Oliver Wood. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: All original characters and canon events belong to J.K. Rowling. Non-canon events and characters are my own. I am not making any profit from posting this fanfic. Characters are likely to be OOC.
Page count: 14
Hogwarts – Saturday 3rd October 1998
"Thank you all for attending this morning's breakfast," said Professor McGonagall, the great hall immediately falling quiet at her addressing. "I know that it is a weekend and you have no reason to attend at such an early hour, however, I have asked you all here this morning as we have two special guests visiting." At her words, the hall broke out into whispers. "I wish to introduce to you, Mrs. Hermione and Mr. Oliver Wood."
The hall broke out into noise; cheers, gasps and murmurs as Hermione and Oliver walked out hand in hand from a door to the left behind the head's table and Quaffle followed behind them. They came to a stop before the head's table, looking out at the students.
With the weather turning cold as winter quickly approached, Oliver sported blue jeans, white trainers and a white t-shirt that fitted to his body with a black jacket over the top. Hermione had opted for blue skinny jeans, black heeled ankle boots and a black off the shoulder long-sleeved t-shirt with a grey cardigan over the top.
As Hermione's eyes darted about the whispering students, she was haunted by the memories of the bodies that had littered the grounds of the castle, particularly those that had been in the great hall after they were unable to be healed or helped due to their injuries.
"We don' have tae do this," Oliver muttered softly, giving her hand a squeeze.
Hermione turned to look at him, taking a deep breath. "But I want to; I have to do this for myself. This is where my life started and this is where the book tour starts," she replied. "This was home, it should be done here." He smiled before pressing a kiss to her temple, hearing the grumbles and awes. "It's good to be home," Hermione addressed the hall. "For those that don't know, I'm Hermione and this is my husband, Oliver," she introduced, looking down at Quaffle when he barked, she and Oliver chuckling. "And this is our dog, Quaffle," she added, reaching out to run her hand through his fur.
"Anyway, as you may know, I have written a series of books regarding what really happened during the last seven years of my life. I believe that it is important that everyone knows what was sacrificed so that you can now live in peace. From the best Headmaster, Hogwarts had ever seen to house-elves and casualties of the First War. It is important to know where we came from so that mistakes are not repeated. Today, I am here to give you all a free copy of my first book which is set to be released to the public in two hour's time. Aside from my family and my editor, you will be the first people in the world to see and read the first book."
As the hall filled with excited chatter, Hermione opened her beaded bag, twenty shrunken down boxes levitating out of it and settling on the floor. Once she resized them, she flicked her wand until a copy of the book found a home hovering out of reach of each student and professor.
"I have written a total of seven books and my first book is entitled The Philosopher's Stone', containing details of the events of my first year. For you older students who were here at the time I was, you may have heard rumours but this book will explain the true happenings. There is also a section dedicated to the research and discovering of why and how Muggleborns are born. During my time here, Professor McGonagall and I thought it peculiar that I appeared to be powerful witch given my Muggleborn status, and as such, we did some digging into my ancestry were we discovered that I have over eight generations of Squib magic on both my mother's and father's side. It was at this point that we realised that Muggleborns truly don't steal magic but rather, it is a build-up of suppressed Squib magic that finally presents itself in a thought to be Muggle lineage." She paused a moment to allow them the opportunity to fully digest her words before saying, "We will be at Hogwarts until tomorrow dinner time and should you wish to speak to me, you may do so. Additionally, Oliver will be offering flying lessons and advice to the house Quidditch teams, or to any who may wish to pursue a career as a professional athlete."
The excitement in the room grew and the girls smiled when Oliver beamed a dazzling smile and Hermione rolled her eyes when he looked pleased with himself.
"I hope that my first book will shed some light on what really happened during my first year, and my editor and I have to come to an agreement in which, my books will be released monthly, with the release for my second book being mid-November. For those in second year and above, you will receive free copies of the books for your required year, this year only."
With that, the books lowered to the tables, Hermione watching as the students curiously flipped through the pages, feeling Oliver giving her hand a squeeze. Tugging her forward, they slowly made their way past each table, greeting the students with Quaffle basking in the attention he received.
"How are you?" Hermione asked Dean, Seamus and Neville when they reached the Gryffindor table.
"We're good," answered Dean. "Classes aren't that bad, at least history of magic won't be boring now that your books are on the reading list."
"I can't wait to finally see what you got up to," Seamus added.
"There's a lot," she admitted and they snorted at her.
"Are we mentioned?" Neville asked.
"You are," she nodded, snorting when they reached for their own copies and flipped through the pages in search of their names.
Leaving them to it, they continued with their greeting until they neared the Slytherin table, Hermione hearing a call of her name.
"Granger!"
Lifting her head and turning her eyes away from the shy first year witch, she spied Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, gathered in the centre of the table. Rolling her eyes, she slowly approached with Quaffle by her side, leaving Oliver to speak with some of the first years about the winning of the League Cup.
"It's Wood," she corrected, stopping opposite them.
"It doesn't feel right calling you Wood," he grimaced. "I'm sticking with Granger."
It had taken some time but she and Malfoy had been able to put aside their differences after the war. After saving his life during the battle, he'd sent her a letter, apologising for his transgressions. A part of her had wanted to tell him to shove his apology up his arse but as the years passed in Hogwarts, she'd seen the changes in him when others hadn't, especially from the start of fourth year and he'd looked positively terrible during fifth and sixth year. It was at that point she realised he'd had to do things to survive, just as she did. They were on separate sides of the war and despite that, he hadn't ratted them out when they'd been brought to his manor. He could've been killed for that and he'd known that. He'd risked his life that day even if he had stood back and allowed her torture to happen.
The war was over and they were no longer children, there was no point in holding grudges anymore, and so, she'd forgiven him, even going as far as to help him rise to the Head of the Malfoy House and having his assets unfrozen.
Malfoy sent a look to the teen wizards sat opposite him and they were quick to vacate, there being three empty spaces before her.
"You could've just asked nicely," she told him disapprovingly.
"Malfoys don't ask for things, they should already be done."
"Of course, you don't," she rolled her eyes with a sigh before taking a seat on the bench, Quaffle jumping up beside her and she snorted before running her hand through his fur. "Quaffle!" Hermione scolded, hearing sniggers and laughter when Quaffle reached into the middle of the table and stole a sausage from the platter. "You've already had breakfast and I know for a fact Oliver gave you a pancake," she scowled, looking up to see Malfoy smirking and Nott and Zabini sniggering. "It's not funny," she huffed.
"It is," he argued, eyeing her dog with interest. "You took your NEWTs out of school, didn't you? Have you received your results yet?"
"Yes, twelve O's."
"Twelve," he spluttered, Hermione seeing Zabini slapping Nott on the back as he choked on his tea.
"Twelve," she confirmed, looking to Quaffle when she saw movement from the corner of her eyes, seeing him stealing bacon from the plate of the wizard beside him. "I give in," she sighed, scowling at their sniggers.
"Is that a... Tattoo?" Nott questioned, his eyes narrowed on her collarbone, spying the ink peeking out from beneath her clothing.
"It is," she nodded, his eyes widening whilst Malfoy and Zabini's attention snapped to her.
"Never expected that," he muttered with a shake of his head.
"Never would have expected you to be paired with Wood either," Zabini commented.
Unsurprised, she lifted her arm and tugged at her sleeve, showing the golden band wrapped around her wrist.
"Never mind, it makes perfect sense," Malfoy commented. She cleared her throat, drawing his eyes from her wrist and back to her. "So, what are you doing after you leave?"
"Book tour, I'm promoting all seven of my books. Oliver's coming with me and we're going to be port-keying between our apartment and the countries on our tour. We're starting in London before moving to Scotland, which his followed by Ireland and then Wales. After that, we're going European, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Bulgaria, Greece and Switzerland. We're going to do a trial run in America, visiting some of the major States and if all goes well, we'll consider going to Asia. Given that training season's around the corner, we don't have time to do much else."
~000~000~000~
"It's weird," Hermione commented.
"It is," Oliver agreed, his eyes darting about the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. "A never thought a'd be back here. Hoo are ye feeling?" He asked her, knowing how hard it was for her to return to Hogwarts after the Final Battle.
"Better than I thought I'd be, but it's easier knowing I'm only going to be here a day or two and I can leave whenever I wish or need to."
When she laid her cheek against his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before his eyes darted towards the entrance of the pitch, spying the crowd moving to gather in the centre, their jumble of voices carrying in the wind.
Her mouth tugging into a smile, knowing they were there for him, she summoned his broom from her beaded bag and resized it, handing it to him. He pressed a kiss to her mouth before standing from his perched position in the stands and descending to the pitch, Hermione quite happy to watch him interact with the students as he offered advice and flying lessons, briefly drawing her attention away from him when a student would approach her, wishing to ask for her autograph.
As dinner approached and Hermione heard the rumble in her stomach, she and Quaffle headed for the pitch, and as she approached, voices flittered to her ears, being carried by the wind. There was a sixth year Ravenclaw, a seventh year Slytherin and a fifth year Gryffindor batting their eyelashes, giggling and the older of the witches, innocently touching Oliver's arm.
Hermione couldn't stop it. Jealousy flared within as if a dying fire had been administered more oxygen or fluid, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes narrowed.
"I trust my husband has offered helpful advice into becoming a professional athlete or improving your flying technique," said Hermione, halting beside Oliver who looked relieved to see her.
The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor nodded quickly and made themselves scarce under her frightening expression, but the Slytherin held her ground, folding her arms over her chest.
"Mr. Wood has been very attentive," the blonde replied innocently.
Hermione felt the rumbling growl in the back of her throat and barely suppressed it, reaching up on her tiptoes and whispering to Oliver,
"The full moon's two days away. I can feel the pull."
He cleared his throat, giving her a knowing look before turning to the blonde schoolgirl.
"Well, Miss, remember what a told ye an' yer flying will be jus' fine. If ye'll excuse mae, me wife an' a better best get ready fer dinner."
His hand slipping around hers, he tugged her away and across the pitch, releasing a whistle that had Quaffle following after them, the dog having stayed behind to watch the younger witch suspiciously.
Hermione soon snatched her hand from his and quietly stormed away, Oliver blinking in surprise and confusion as he struggled to keep up with her fast strides, following her to the library. She swept through the doors and navigated the maze of books until she reached the Restricted Section, Oliver, admittedly, feeling worried.
"What are ye doin'?" He asked her warily, being annoyed that she'd ignored his attempts to speak with her during the journey.
She slowly perused the bookcases, her finger hovering before each of the book spines but not touching, as she searched from one side to the other.
"Searching for 101 Most Painful Hexes," she replied airily despite her anger being obvious.
"Oh, come on, Sparrow," he laughed.
She whirled around to face him.
"You did nothing! They were flirting with you and you did nothing!" She hissed furiously.
"Yer not being serious, are ye? They're only school children. Yer me wife, a love ye, an' ye know a'd never want anyone else, not with our bond. They don' stand a chance against ye. There's naw reason tae be jealous."
"You don't get it, do you? It's so hard for me," she argued. "I know we share the bond, I know you'd never cheat on me or entertain the idea and I know I shouldn't feel jealous, but I have both the werewolf and lioness traits within me. They are both territorial beings, I can't help the way I feel, no matter how hard I try or how many times I tell myself there's nothing to worry about. I can't control it and I can't stop it and they will always be a part of me. And it doesn't help that the full moon's two days away! When Viktor propositioned me, you punched him in the face. I showed restraint with that witch, I wanted to hex her and did I? No!"
Oliver's expression softened and he released a sigh. "Yer right, a don' know hoo ye feel or what's happening tae ye, an' am sorry fer not saying anything tae dissuade their behaviour. Usually, am turning away women in night clubs; a havnae had tae do it to children. A thought they were harmless."
"Harmless," she scoffed. "One of them was of age. Hardly a child."
"Am sorry, next time something like tha' happens a'll set them straight," he promised.
She didn't look placated in the least and he could see her anger morphing into sadness as her shoulders slumped and her head lowered. Reaching out, he hugged her against him, Hermione melting into his embrace as she fought back the tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into his chest. "I don't want you to think I don't trust you, because I do. It's them..."
"Them ye don' trust," he interrupted. "A understand, an' a should be making this easier fer ye with the full moon almost here, instead af making things difficult," he admitted. "But a don' think McGonagall would appreciate ye hexing a student, even if they were af age an' deserving af it."
"No, she wouldn't," Hermione agreed.
"A love ye an' only ye, Sparrow."
"I love you, too," she sighed in reply.
His fingers came up to her chin and gently tipped her head back, leaning down to steal a kiss. The kiss quickly turned into something more when Oliver had her pinned against a bookcase with her legs were wrapped around him. Her jeans and underwear were magicked off and his jeans and boxers had been dropped to his ankles as his hips snapped against hers, her back arching and her hands pinned in place above her head. When he brought her to her release and she cried out his name and clamped around him, she leaned forward and her teeth sunk into his scarred neck, drawing his release from him.
Once they'd recovered, Cleaning Charms were cast and clothing was slipped on and righted, they made their way out of the library, spying Quaffle laid on the ground in the middle of the library, basking in the attention of the young girls that surrounded him, cooing at him as they scratched his stomach. Upon his notice of their appearance, he soon followed them out of the library and towards the great hall for dinner.
"Another fantasy ticked aff," Oliver remarked.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Library," he grinned at her. "There's something aboot havin' ye in the library tha's always appealed tae mae."
"Me too," she admitted.
"What?" He halted to a stop, pulling her with him.
"Me too," she repeated.
"Ye said ye dinnae have any fantasies."
"I didn't, but now I realised the Hogwarts' library is... well, was, one."
He looked far too pleased with her revelation.
"Make mae a list?"
"Working on it," she nodded, seeing his grin as he wriggled his eyebrows, making her laugh.
~000~000~000~
Germany - Thursday 12th November 1998
Hermione hadn't been feeling well, as of late. If she wasn't exhausted or easily tired, she found the simplest of things irritated her and she had a habit of snapping at anyone who annoyed or upset her. She found herself crying at off times and over ridiculously stupid reasons, such as Quaffle's adorable sneeze or Oliver buying her a bouquet of flowers just because he'd felt like it.
Having no idea what was wrong with her or what was affecting her mood, she'd simply blamed it on stress. For the last four weeks, she'd been travelling around the world by means of port-key in order to complete the criteria for her book tour expected by the publishing company.
Training season had begun the previous week, bringing with it the newly implemented charity and international warm-up games, allowing for the building of relationships between the countries participating, or as Hermione like to think of it, the international teams scouting their competition, so they might know what they were up against as well as possibly poaching players from other teams. Given that the World Cup was held every four years, the players were often scouted from local teams of their nation, allowing for the selection of the best players in the country and they spent one year training whilst the other three years they returned to their current teams.
Going into week two of the training season, Puddlemere had already played against teams from Spain, Portugal and France and they were currently in Germany, their match schedule for the following day. Hermione knew they were expected to travel to Ireland and Italy and attend the scheduled matches before they returned to Britain the following Thursday, something she couldn't wait for. The hotels the club paid for were nice but she missed her own bed and her own food, something she hoped was a factor of her shifting mood.
It was the most ridiculous things that seemed to anger her, the team laughing too loud, Oliver refusing to get out of bed, Oliver leaving towels on the floor and not putting his dirty laundry back in his suitcase. She'd even snapped at the room service attendant for not bringing their food quickly enough and for forgetting the extra bacon she ordered.
Everyone was walking on eggshells around her, even Malloy kept his mouth shut when she was nearby, fearing that she'd draw her wand on him and she had been a little trigger happy lately.
Currently, Oliver was in Pallie's hotel room along with the rest of the team doing Merlin knows what and she had just exited the bathroom, running her hands over her face tiredly before she flopped onto the large bed with a sigh.
She giggled and ran a hand through Quaffle's fur when he crawled over to her, bestowing licks to her face. She finally managed to push him back from her but she rose onto her elbows, her brow furrowing in confusion when Quaffle laid beside her, nudging her stomach with his nose.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, perplexed by his behaviour.
She observed as he nosed the hem of her t-shirt up, revealing her stomach, his cold nose pressing against her skin as he visibly sniffed at her. She tipped her head when a whining noise sounded from him and he gently settled his paw below her bellybutton.
Strange, Hermione thought, reaching up to run her hand through his fur.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, knowing he couldn't answer her but that didn't stop him from understanding and purposefully nosing at her stomach. "I don't understand," she admitted, her dog nosing at stomach once more before his eyes seemed to land on her wand that sat at the foot of the bed.
Following his gaze and frowning, she pushed herself into a sitting position, dislodging Quaffle from her and she reached for her wand.
"Now what?" She asked her dog.
In response, he nosed at her, setting his paw against her stomach once more. Hermione tipped her head in confusion, knowing that he was clearly trying to convey something but she honestly didn't know what. She couldn't connect the dots. Quaffle seemed to huff in annoyance before nosing at her, gently scratching his paw over her and he lifted his eyes to her, an almost humming noise leaving him.
It took her a moment or two but she finally understood what he was he was trying to tell her.
Hermione could count on one hand the number of times she'd heard Quaffle make that strange noise, as well as the times he'd exhibited such behaviour and it was always and only when he was around Fleur. Fleur who was pregnant, her stomach swelling as the due date drew closer.
Haven frozen, she was brought back to reality by Quaffle licking her face and she took a sharp inhale, her eyes closing.
Lifting her wand in a shaking hand and pressing it against her stomach, it took several attempts to whisper the words,
"Reprehendo Graviditate."
Several tense moments of silence passed and then Hermione felt it. Her eyes fluttering open, she saw the dull blue glow emitting from the tip of her wand, it slowly brightening until it stung her eyes.
Her wand fell from her grasp, rolling across the bed and onto the floor with a clatter, her hand moving to press against her flat stomach.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered, her eyes blurring with tears as she turned to look at Quaffle, seeing him gazing up at her. Quaffle seemed to nod in agreement. "I'm pregnant," she repeated louder.
Silence fell in the room before the dam burst and tears fell from her eyes, sobs of happiness, fear and disbelief wracking her as she clung to Quaffle, her tears wetting his fur.
She was incredibly happy that she could give Oliver a child. She was in disbelief that she was giving him a child. And she was terrified that something might go wrong and there'd be complications with the pregnancy given all that her body had suffered over the years, not to mention, she'd never been a mother before and she had no idea what was expected of her. And she was only nineteen! She was practically still a child herself no matter what Wizarding Law said.
Managing to pull herself away from Quaffle, she retrieved her wand from the ground and cast the Pregnancy Charm again, then again and once more for good measure.
Four positive results.
She was pregnant.
Her sobs grew louder as her hands lay against her stomach, a child growing beneath them.
She was going to be a mother.
~000~000~000~
Brazil - Saturday 14th November 1998
They were now in Brazil; they'd arrived during the early hours of the morning and Hermione had struggled to keep herself from being sick upon her landing.
It had been two days since she'd discovered she was pregnant and she'd yet to tell Oliver. She didn't know how to. It wasn't something that you could just slip into a conversation and she had been trying to think of a way to tell him but so far she hadn't had any luck or ideas.
After she'd finished with her sobbing, she'd left Quaffle in her hotel room and made a quick dash to nearby a book shop, being mindful to use Glamours as to not be seen or recognised. She didn't want to be seen buying books on motherhood or pregnancy before she'd even had the chance to tell Oliver or digest the news herself. When she returned to the hotel and with a simple Translator Charm, she'd had the words legible and she'd made a start on reading, wishing to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible, especially about the first trimester, given that was the stage she was currently facing. When Oliver had returned, she'd been sure to hide the books from him, leaving him none the wiser.
When he'd disappeared into the bathroom, she hadn't been able to resist casting a charm to determine how far along she was in the pregnancy and given the results, if her math was correct, the baby had been conceived on the 16th of October, putting her a little over four weeks pregnant. In the books, she'd read that apparition and port-keying were perfectly fine for the baby until around the fourth month, and she'd learned that some experienced mood swings around the fourth week of pregnancy, so everything was going to plan.
Oliver was currently sleeping behind her, his arm curled over her waist and face buried in her neck. She hadn't been able to sleep and she'd been staring at the door for Merlin knows how long, and then inspiration struck. Unable to stop the smile that played at her lips, Hermione carefully extracted from Oliver's hold (something that wasn't easy) and she was quick to dress.
Heading down to the front desk, she placed an order for breakfast and returned to her room, stepping inside to see Oliver's tired scowl as he propped himself up on his elbows, the blanket pooling around his waist, his bare chest free to her gaze.
He hated it when he woke to an empty bed.
"I was just ordering breakfast," Hermione explained, holding her hands up in defence.
Removing her jacket and shoes, she crossed over to the bed, Oliver tugging her to lay against his chest and a sigh slipped from her as her fingers ghosted over his warm skin.
"I'm really sorry I've been a pain these last few days. I'm just really tired and my body's aching all the damn time."
"Yer always a pain," he teased, sniggering when she lightly slapped his chest. "Are you okay?" He asked, all teasing aside and his concern bleeding into his words. "The full moon was over a week ago, it shouldn't be affecting ye at this point."
"It's not the full moon making me this way," Hermione said lightly and before Oliver could reply, there was a knock at the door.
Drawing back from him, she climbed from the bed and headed for the door, opening it to reveal room service and after giving a tip, the tray levitated into the room. Hermione crossed to the bed, the tray following as she took a seat beside Oliver and it settled before them on the mattress, Hermione having ordered bacon, pancakes, two glasses of orange juice, two cups of tea and the morning newspaper.
Lifting the newspaper and running her eyes over the already translated text, she sipped from her tea, watching from the corner of her eye as Oliver reached for the covering on the food. When he settled it off to the side and turned back to the food, his eyes widened, his hand froze mid-air in reaching for the fork and his breathing halted.
The stack of chocolate pancakes was piled high and in chocolate sauce, 'Congratulations! You're going to be a daddy!' had been scrawled across the top beautifully.
His eyes suddenly snapped to her and Hermione nibbled at her lip nervously as she set her tea and the newspaper on the bedside table, along with the tray.
"Are ye..." He hesitated, struggling to complete his question. "Are ye pregnant?"
She nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, her expression softening as tears welled in her eyes. Again. "I am. I received four positive results when casting the charm."
"Yer pregnant?" He whispered in disbelief.
"I'm pregnant," she confirmed.
Unexpectedly, he pounced, sending falling onto her back and he hovered above her, his mouth soon finding hers.
"Hoo long have ye known?" He drew back from her, his large, expressive eyes locking with hers.
"Only two days. I didn't know how to tell you."
"A'd say chocolate sauce on pancakes works well," he replied softly. She smiled up at him as his fingers softly caressed her cheek. "Hoo far along are ye?"
"From what I've been able to determine, four weeks. I bought an armful of books the day I found out and I read that mood swings usually start around the fourth week of pregnancy due to the hormonal change in the body."
"Tha's explains why yer've been so snappy an' tired."
"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly.
"It's not yer fault," he grinned. "Merlin! Yer pregnant. A cannae believe yer pregnant!"
"Well, I am."
"What made ye cast the charm? Four weeks is a little early tae suspect pregnancy, isnae it?"
"Quaffle," she answered, seeing his questioningly arched eyebrow. "He was acting odd, he wouldn't stop sniffing and nudging at my stomach and he made this noise that I've only ever heard him make when he's around Fleur."
"Who's pregnant," he nodded with a smile.
"I'm a little over four weeks pregnant and if my math is correct, the baby's due in July, and that means that Bill and Fleur's child and our baby will be in the same year at Hogwarts, they'll grow up together. Of course, July is game season so that might be a bit of an issue," her brow furrowed slightly. "God, I hope I don't go into labour during a match!"
He shifted above her, getting more comfortable and setting his hand against her stomach, slipping it beneath her clothing to press against her warm skin.
"A cannae believe yer pregnant," he repeated quietly, Hermione being witness to the wetness of his eyes and his expression filled with such joy.
"I don't want anyone to know yet. Four weeks is far too early to be spilling the news, especially when most announcements are made at twelve weeks."
He nodded in agreement, a sudden look of concern crossing his face. "Should ye be travelling so much?"
"Port-keying and apparition is perfectly safe until I reach my fourth month of pregnancy."
"Are ye sure?"
"Yes," she replied confidently.
"Ye shouldn't be working so much," his brow furrowed. "Yer on yer feet all day an'..."
"Oliver," she interrupted, "I am pregnant, not dying of a disease. I am perfectly healthy and I am fine to work. If I want to, I can sit down. Morning sickness doesn't usually take effect until the sixth week and the only thing that seems to be affecting me at the moment is the mood swings and fatigue, something I associate with the full moon."
"An' sex?" He questioned, looking worried, hopeful and disappointed.
"Sex is fine," she snorted. "In fact, I'll have an increased sex drive with all the hormones flooding my body."
He looked pleased, relieved and worried at the same time and she laughed at him.
"A think a like ye bein' pregnant," he remarked. "Knowing tha' yer carrying me child actually makes ye even sexier," he grinned, wriggling his eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes. "You won't be saying that when I'm the size of a whale."
"Aye, a will be, in fact..." He deliberately lowered himself against her, Hermione feeling the hardened length hidden by his underwear.
"Now? But I'm hungry," she complained. He chuckled.
"Fine, we can eat first as yer not jus' eating fer yerself anymore, ye're also feeding our child," he beamed.
Hermione felt her eyes tearing up as she slowly took in his overjoyed expression. Upon the winning of the League Cup, she didn't think she'd ever see Oliver so happy. She was wrong.
"I love you"
"A love ye, tae, Sparrow." Shifting slightly, he lifted the hem of her t-shirt and pressed a kiss to her flat stomach, just below her bellybutton. "An' believe it or not, a already love our son."
"Son?" She arched an eyebrow. "It could be a girl," she argued.
"It's a boy. Me family's only had boys fer as long as anyone can remember, along with only having one child," he shrugged. "We're having a son," he said confidently. "Now, let's get ye fed so a can ravish me beautiful pregnant wife."
He leaned down and kissed her and she felt all her worries about the pregnancy wash away with his soft touch and infectious smile.
~000~000~000~
Puddlemere United Stadium - Thursday 19th November 1998
"Alright, you lot, gather 'round," instructed Coach Burton. "We've had a good couple of weeks and we've won every match against each national team we've played!"
Cheers and applause rang out in the locker room. They were all gathered with their luggage sat by their feet, Oliver stood with Hermione in front of him, her back to his chest, his chin resting atop her head and his hands splayed against her covered stomach. They'd agreed to keep the pregnancy quiet but since discovering the news, Oliver had been hard-pressed to keep his hands to himself, something Hermione was sure the team would notice if they weren't careful.
And they had noticed.
They'd noticed Oliver's change in behaviour over the last few days; Oliver always seemed to be touching Hermione in some capacity, more so than usual, at least. His eyes always held concern (despite his face being calm) if Hermione had been on her feet for more than an hour, if she carried something too heavy, or if she had a sudden mood swing and snapped at someone, and yet, his mouth always seemed to be wishing to tug into a smile, something he fought.
They weren't sure what had changed or happened between them, but they knew it had.
"You have both tomorrow and Saturday for a respite given the seven matches you've played in the span of two weeks, and it will not be taken from your allotted holidays, a gift from the bosses. Oh, and I require your signed contracts in my office no later than Wednesday. If you've read them, you will know that you've all been given a bonus for the winning of the previous season. Now, get yourselves out of here and head home. I will see you on Monday. Enjoy your weekends and don't do anything stupid... I mean it, Malloy!"
~000~000~000~
Wood Apartment
As Hermione stepped out of the fireplace with Oliver, Thompson and Quaffle at her side, she had never been happier to be home, but she was met by something she hadn't been expecting.
Kingsley Shacklebolt standing from the couch and turning to face them.
"Minister?" Oliver questioned, bemused.
"I knew you were expected to return today and your house-elf allowed me to wait here until you returned. I have some urgent business to discuss with you," he said in lieu of a greeting, his expression grave.
"I'll be in my room," said Thompson, his eyes darting between the Minster and the married couple. "Quaffle, come with me," he instructed, the playful dog bounding after him as he took his leave, giving them some privacy.
Hermione and Oliver shared a glance before moving to take a seat beside one another, the Minister sitting opposite them.
"What did you need to discuss with us?" Hermione asked, an unsettling feeling filling her stomach as Oliver slipped his hand around hers.
"I would've contacted you sooner but I knew you were travelling, and this sort of news isn't something I wished to break through a Patronus or by owl," Kingsley replied.
His words didn't ease her worry.
"Please, just tell us, you're making me nervous."
Kingsley sighed, his expression softening and filling with concern and sadness. "On Monday the 9th of this month, Ms. Maggie Harrison was found to be dead in her home."
A gasp fell from Hermione's mouth with Oliver looking to her in confusion. She lifted her gaze to him, showing the tears that filled her eyes as she whispered,
"Leo's mother."