Happy Saturday, people! Another chappy for you. Enjoy. Reminder/Warning(?) I leave for vacation at the end of next week. I may post Thursday or Friday. I haven't decided if I want to mess with taking the laptop with me.

Chapter 4 Hermione Gets Annoyed

Lisa checked on them several times. As they finished their entrees she approached with menus. "Order dessert, dearies. We're handling a potential situation." Oliver raised an eyebrow. "One of the regulars noticed an unfamiliar face see ye and run off. We're thinking someone ran off to tell a reporter. Owen put up a charm preventing photography. Angus and Gwendolyn offered to join ye for dessert and leave together. A date becomes some friends catching up at the pub."

"You are angels," praised Hermione. "Surprise me with dessert."

"Sounds like a good plan, the same, please," agreed Oliver.

Angus and Gwendolyn joined them at Lisa's signal. Angus slid in next to Hermione, "To confuse 'em further, we'll all leave together. Ye and Gwennie off for a girlie blather and Oliver and me down the street to me place."

"Dead brilliant," complimented Oliver.

Keeping one eye on the door, Hermione recognized the Daily Prophet reporter when she tried to slip in unnoticed. The mousey brunette had been a cub when Hermione quit at the ministry. It seemed she hadn't risen too far yet and looked to be emulating Rita Skeeter. Something that had annoyed Hermione endlessly. "Heads up, reporter just came in. Idiot took the table next to the door."

"To ensure she catches us on the way out," grumbled Oliver.

"Her mistake," pointed out Hermione, "being by the door gives us time to spot her and prepare, if we hadn't before. But let's enjoy dessert."

"Want to see if we can wait her out?" asked Gwendolyn.

"If I didn't have to be up at six-thirty for training I would," replied Hermione.

"Aye, me tae," Oliver took a bite of his chocolate cake. "But we can still have some fun." He fed a bite of his cake to each of his table mates, even Angus. He then repeated Oliver's gesture. They lingered over dessert as long as possible. Lisa brought them the check. Oliver and Angus made a production of fighting over who would pay. Then sulked when Hermione stole the slip of paper and tapped it with her wand to pay.

"Done," she chirped. "Everybody ready?"

"Hermione," protested Angus, "Ah told ye it were me treat."

"Then you shouldn't have bickered with Oliver and gave me the opening," she laughed and waved the receipt at him.

Oliver pretended to pout, "Ah pay next time, no argument."

"Anything ye say, mate," Angus clapped him on the back.

Gwendolyn linked arms with Hermione, "Right, taking ye back to mine for girl time." All four began walking towards the exit, waving farewell to those they knew. The reporter smirked and scooted to the end of the bench. Hermione waited until she saw the flash of triumph in her eyes. The happy look drained off Hermione's face as she made eye contact with her hunter. The reporter's face fell, she briefly looked nervous. But she rallied and stood. Wisely, perhaps, she followed them outside before addressing them, "Hello, Abigail Smothers Daily Prophet. Are you leaving a double date?"

"Nay, just dinner with friends," answered Angus. "Ollie and Ah are off to fling some darts at me place. Nothing special."

"Hermione, did you mean what you said earlier today that you won't save the wizarding world?"

"Miss Granger," said Hermione in a cold flat tone.

Smothers looked confused, "Huh?"

"We are not friends. I have not, and will not, grant you permission to be informal, Ms. Smothers."

"Sorry," she sounded anything but. "Miss Granger," she stressed in a condescending tone, "same question."

"I don't owe you, or anybody, anything. I am out with friends. Leave." Hermione began walking, pulling Gwendolyn with her.

"You're a famous war heroine. Who else can we look to?" Smothers called after her.

Hermione dropped Gwendolyn's arm and turned. Her eyes blazed with fury, "The experts looking into the ritual. The ministry published official advice."

"But you fought..."

"I fought because the adults around me failed to protect us. Because they ignored the signs, and mocked the warnings. I did what I had to do to survive. You can dress it up all you like, present all the awards you want, but nothing changes the fact that those deeds you like to laud caused serious childhood trauma. Every single child warrior in the Order of Phoenix deserves to be left alone unless we offer an interview. And if you print one word of this or use one photograph from tonight you best learn to sleep with one eye open. Because I will come for you and no one will save you." She glared menacingly at Smothers and the photographer further up the street. For his part he opened the camera, pulled out the film, and lit it on fire.

"Neal! What are you doing?" cried Smothers.

"Ensuring the powerful and angry witch knows I had nothing to do with anything you print. She's right, they did what no one else would. Dogging them on a night out for tawdry headlines is a shite way to repay them."

Smothers looked crushed and lost. A wave of pity rolled through Hermione. She realized this could be her opportunity to stop another Skeeter from forming. She sighed, "Numerous people heard me say they need to save themselves by following the ministry's advice. Quote that. You can reiterate the advice given by the Department of Ritual Mishaps. Commend the hard work they are doing to help. Be the sensible voice in this. Some of your peers act like this is a fun adventure. Other continue to hound the ones that have found a soulmate. Make a name for yourself as the voice of reason. You may mention I went out the dinner with friends, doing things to increase the number of people I come in contact with."

"That sounds like a really good idea."

Hermione smirked, "My ideas generally are. We're leaving now. You may take one photo of us as we walk away. Good night." The four walked out of sight before separating. Oliver promised to be in touch soon.

Soon turned out to be Friday. An owl delivered a short note promising to meet her for dinner that evening. No need to respond if she was agreeable. At the end of the day the team manager, Myles Tobin, asked several players to stay back for a brief meeting. Hermione, Daisy, Zaryn Barasa, and Daniela Reyes followed him up to his office overlooking the field. Each player selected a seat. Daisy and Hermione on the couch, Zaryn and Daniela in the chairs in front of the desk. "I am confident you ladies known what I wish to discuss."

Daniela nodded, "The upcoming league wide bachelor auction."

Myles smiled, "Yes, you four were selected to represent Arsenal Women. Though, due to last year's unpleasantness..."

Zaryn interrupted, "You mean when Hermione kicked Sleazy Donovan's arse."

"Correction, when I was forced to use violence to protect my person and virtue," said Hermione primly. "Please remind his father if he attempts to win an evening with me again I will press charges for his continued harassment. My solicitor still has the hospital photos."

Myles frowned, "He is aware. And is the reason we are implementing new rules. The auctionee will be creating the event on offer, not the winner."

"Poor Donovan, he'll never get some poor woman on his little boat now," snickered Daisy.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend's antics, "I appreciate this gesture. But please make sure Mr. Graves understands I am serious. I am not afraid to bite the hand that feeds me."

"He, personally, demanded this change. We take an interest in your safety. None of you should be danger, or uncomfortable, from something we requested you do for publicity or fundraising. We need your plans by next Tuesday so tickets and such can be procured. That's all, unless you have questions." He bid them farewell when none of them did.

Daisy walked with Hermione from the administrative floor, "What are you thinking?"

"Something during daylight hours in very public locations. Like reading to kids in a library."

"Sexy," purred Daisy.

"I have no interest in being sexy. Last year was bad enough. I nearly killed him, Daisy. And the cops told Mr. Graves with my service record no one would have even considered charges after what he pulled, regardless of his father's influence. Not that Mr. Graves ever seemed like sweeping it under the rug was an option."

"Is that why you agreed not to press charges?"

"Partially, I just waned it done. The cops did say that if Donovan tried pressing charges they would press them for me. Graves, Sr. agreed it was inappropriate and I said I would drop things legally, but I was filing a complaint with the organization for harassment and stalking. So, his continued interest is becoming an issue." Hermione hugged herself.

"I know you usually walk, but would you like a lift?" her friend asked as they exited the stadium.

Hermione looked around, and despite not seeing anyone answered, "Yeah, I think I do. Thanks." They nodded to the male players they knew in the parking lot. Arsenal FWC shared Meadow Park with Boreham Wood, a National League men's team.

Bubbly pop music blaring, Daisy expertly navigated the short distance to Hermione's place. "Speaking of stalkers, who is that?" Hermione followed her pointed finger to see Oliver waiting in her front garden.

"That's Oliver," she said simply.

"Oliver? Hmm, is this the schoolmate we're dating?"

"It is," confirmed Hermione.

"Does he have a brother?"

"Yes, but no, you cannot date him."

Daisy pouted, "Bummer." She parked and began climbing out of the car.

"Uh, where are you going?"

Daisy grinned, "To meet Oliver." She shook her head at her teammate. She should have seen this coming. Hermione shrugged and got out. She followed the exuberant blonde through the gate. Oliver gave her a questioning look. Again she shrugged.

"Oliver, this is Daisy Owens my teammate. Daisy, this is my boyfriend, Oliver Wood.

"Nice to meet ye," he offered his hand.

"Hello, handsome," Daisy shook his hand. "That accent," she said to Hermione, fanning herself, "hot."

"And good-bye," said Hermione taking her by the shoulders and turned her around. She gave her a little push in the direction of her car. "You're going now."

"I see that. See you Monday." She looked at Oliver, "See you later."

She turned back to Oliver, "Sorry, we stayed back for a meeting. Daisy offered me a lift. She's mostly harmless."

"Ah was early."

She opened the front door. "Come on in." He followed her. "I know you asked me out, but I just want to stay in."

"Sounds good. You can show me the telly. The only thing we need to decide is what takeaway to order."

"Decisions, decisions," she joked. "Deli around the corner has a variety of soup and sandwiches. And best of all, they deliver."

"Sounds like a plan." They ordered food and settled in the living room. She explained the television before selecting an easy-to-follow program. They ate and watched the comedy antics, Hermione occasionally explaining what made something humorous.

"How is training?" she asked as they cleared dinner.

"Fairly well. O'Keefe is coming into his own as captain."

"That's always good," she smiled.

"What was yer meeting about?" he asked.

"Oh, the Premier League has a joint annual fundraiser at the beginning of the season. They made some changes this year."

"Sounds interesting," he replied encouraging her to continue.

"It is a bachelor auction. Rich people pledge money to go on a date with the player. Up until this year the winner planned the date: time, location, and duration. Within reason, of course. Last year there was an incident. The winner took the female player out on his boat for dinner, without a crew. He tried to drug and rape her. She fought him off, quite savagely, jumped ship, and swam to shore."

"So the changes," Oliver said with concern.

"Yes, the winner was the son of upper management of a team, owns part of a stadium. Since the player nearly beat the tosser to death, both sides agreed to avoidance and not pressing charges. But the father says the players should not be put in danger like that. We will create an plan to bid on."

"What about his son?"

She glanced away then back, "Keeps him an absurdly tight leash, cut off most of his funds and told him he would never again protect him from the consequences of his actions."

"Has he changed?"

She gave a sad smile, "He did for a while, but he's gotten annoying again."

Oliver rubbed small circles on her leg, "Going to hex him next time?"

"Hopefully not, wait, what?" She looked up at him.

"Ye are the player. Ye got woozy, he got handsy. Ye reacted as only a warrior can and apparated away."

"Pretty much, missed the shore and landed in the river, hence why they thought I swam." She faced him, "The auror and the cop were both horrified at how bad I looked. Thankfully, I had magic to heal me. I pretended to power through the injuries. I was on the reserve team then."

"They still expect ye to participate?" he sounded outraged.

"It's in my contract. But they know I will defend myself and press charges if he even bids on me."

"Any rules against a romantic partner bidding?"

"No, the point is to raise money for charity."

"Good. Ah'll come and win a date. Where are we going?"

She laughed, "No idea yet."

"Ye don't object?" he asked to clarify.

"No, why would I? You aren't demanding I not do my job. You're just offering to be the winner. Very reasonable behavior."

"Thanks." He thought for a moment, then asked, "What do I need

to do?"

"Get a muggle suit, learn to exchange money, get someone to

invite you."

"Two outta three. Need a suit, well as long as ye can invite me."

"I can, and will."

"How about getting me a suit?"

"You're pushing it. No, you'll have to manage that one on your own, sorry."

"Really?" he felt surprise at her refusal.

"Yep, just can't be bothered." He felt his face fall. She bit her bottom lip before bursting into laughter. "Oh, your face! Ha, ha, your face." She rolled off the couch laughing.

"That was not very nice," he glared down at her.

"Perhaps not, but it was funny." She climbed back onto the

couch. "I can take you, but it might be easier to ask Percy Weasley or Harry. Both of them have needed suits.

"Ah'll have to that." Mentally he decided Percy would be less nosy and wouldn't immediately lead back to Hermione. While he thought things were going well, he agreed it could be too soon to expose themselves outside influence. "When is this?"

"Um, third Saturday of September, starts at 5pm for the press walk. Which you won't have to do, though most of my teammates will be there. All of them will know about you by tomorrow afternoon, thanks to Daisy."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked nervously.

"Not really, just warning you. You could be mobbed or ambushed."

"Ah forgive ye should Ah leave in worse shape than Ah arrive. Should Ah bring a mate?"

She considered it, "I'll introduce you to a few of the lads from Boreham Wood. Several of them will have to be there, too. Give me a minute." She grabbed her mobile and sent a few texts. Within moments her phone pinged three times. "Are you available tomorrow evening for a hangout?"

"Ah can be. Why?"

"Hugh, Ryan, and Grant are willing to your footie mates."

"As someday Ah will have to introduce you to the WAGs, Ah feel Ah should agree and be grateful.

"They are football players. They are nicer than most WAGs."

"Some of the lasses are decent."

"I should hope so." she smiled at him. "But that's tomorrow. I want to enjoy tonight." She pulled him closer kissing him firmly. He responded by pulling her onto his lap. She moaned. He took advantage of her lips parting by slipping his tongue into her mouth. She responded by kissing back aggressively. They battled for dominance. He loved every second of it. He realized she did as well when she ground her groin against his rhythmically. He groaned in response. They continued for a few more minutes before Oliver pulled back.

"Ah should go," he said with a crooked smile.

She felt a stab of uncertainty. "Okay," she slid from his lap.

"Don't get me wrong. Ah want to keep going. But yer me soulmate. Our first time should be a touch more romantic then getting carried away on the couch."

She gave a small smile, "It doesn't have to be a big

production."

"Ah ken. But it will be the last first time. It should be special."

"I think I understand."

He kissed her repeatedly, "Ah will dream of ye, leannan."

"Me, too."

The next afternoon, Oliver owled Percy asking to meet after work. The other wizard agreed and suggested meeting at Weasley Wheezes. He arrived early and wandered aisles admiring the products. Even as first years they showed promise and brilliance. Oliver added versatility to the list. The Wonder Witch products dazzled the senses and judging by the women who entered and headed straight for them they were high quality products.

"Hullo, Oliver," said George popping around the corner.

"George," he greeted.

"What brings you by? Needing a prank for a teammate?"

"Meeting Percy to ask a favor. He suggested here to avoid rumors and such."

"Makes a sort of sense given his new line of work." George patted his shoulder, "Good luck, mate."

"Thanks, Ah suppose. Why good luck?"

"You need Percy's help. You're probably screwed."

"Ah just need a muggle suit. Ah've seen him wear them before."

"Oh, cheers then," George laughed. "Percy's a prat, but he's an impeccably dressed prat."

"Thank you, George, I think anyway." said Percy approaching them.

"You're welcome."

Percy smiled at his younger brother, "Looks great in here, as usual." He turned to Oliver. "Ready?"

"Ah am. Ah may be back for some presents, but for now Ah'm ready."

"What kind of muggle event is it?" asked Percy.

"Uh, fundraiser for professional sporting event."

"I know a place. Hermione introduced me. Her father uses the man." The sign over the door advertised, Riva and Son Tailoring. The small shop front sat in the middle of a large row of shops. A jeweler sat to the right, a bakery to the left. "Did you exchange some galleons into pounds?"

Oliver smirked, "Better, Gringotts gave me a checkbook. Fill out the slip of paper and the banks sort things out between themselves."

"They are useful," agreed the redhead. He held open the door. Benito Riva, the son of the business greeted them warmly. He listened the Oliver's needs and withing ten minutes had three suggestions. "Black is classic."

"Yes, but, the navy will make you stand out some. Pop as the kids say," countered Benito.

"Popping is good?" inquired Oliver.

The tailor confirmed, "Popping is good."

"The navy it is then."

Benito swiftly took measurements, promising to have the alternations completed in a few days. "I'll call you."

Oliver frowned, "Ah don't have a phone at the moment. Ah'll stop by Friday."

Benito made a note on the sales slip, "Moving can be difficult." Oliver didn't correct his misconception. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about getting his own mobile.