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Chapter 16 Hermione Finishes the Season

A few days later Hermione arrived home to find an unfamiliar car in front of the house. Cautiously, she approached. She gave the vehicle a wide pass. Darcy and Aunt Suzanne climbed out when they saw her. "Hermione, darling, how are you?" Her aunt surged forward to envelop her in a hug.

"Pressed for time. I have plans this evening. How can I help you?"

"The tea shop I wanted for the tea party is booked for the next year. Then Mother realized how quaint it would be to hold it in a Victorian home. We instantly thought of you."

"No," Hermione said after they could ask.

"Hermione, we're family, and family helps one another."

"No. You will not invite a hundred people to traipse through my house. I will not clean it before and after or redecorate per your demands. I will not get stuck with the bills or the risks of hosting such events. But most of all, and this is the big reason, I do not want my address advertised in the gossip columns. I actively work to keep my home secret from the press. I will not compromise my privacy for anyone. I suggest looking further afield for a venue." She noticed the mulish pout on Darcy's face. "And if my address is leaked in any way to remove this objection, I will know who did it. Then finding a venue will be the least of your problems, family or not." She glared, letting a little of the dangerous witch slip.

Her aunt swallowed hard, unused to any of her nieces or nephews pushing back like this, "We understand.

"Call wedding venues. They might have a smaller room," suggested Hermione walking towards the porch. "Or a hotel that hosts receptions." She went inside and called her father to inform him of his sister's antics.

"I'm sorry, pumpkin."

"Anyone calls to tell me I should give in and host and I will go off."

"Understandable. I will get ahead of this for you. You aren't the only one who started laying down the law about these things. None of your cousins are best pleased either."

"Thank you, Dad," she smiled to herself.

"You're welcome. We'll see you Saturday for the last match."

"Sounds good. Love you."

"I love you, too, sweetie."They hung up.

Oliver arrived home with Emily and Posy in tow. "Leannan, I'm home and I brought company," he called.

"My favorite company at that."

Emily gave her a small smile, "Stephan is having dinner with his mother. Oliver told me I wasn't allowed to spend my birthday moping. As if anyone can mope with this cheerful chatterbox around." She ruffled Posy's hair.

"Happy birthday. We'll need a cake for after dinner. Want to help, Posy?"

"Yes!" the little girl ran towards the kitchen.

"Any preferences?" Hermione asked as she followed.

"Chocolate," answered Emily.

"Coming up." They enjoyed a boisterous birthday dinner.

"Do ye and Posy have plans for Saturday?" inquired Oliver.

"Hermione's last game is at five. Ye should join us. Harry, Ron, and her parents will be there."

"If you don't mind, we'd love to. It would be nice to have plans before we're abandoned."

"Then it's settled. Meet here at four." Before his sister left that night, Oliver confessed he planned to propose after the match. Emily hugged him tightly.

Electric energy charged the air at Meadow Park. Everton had one chance to bring down the undefeated Arsenal or risk regulation. Posy clutched her mother and uncle's hands. Her new friends, Victoire and Teddy led them with Victoire's daddy and Harry. Brightly painted people jostled each other, all speaking loudly. She found all of it very exciting. She noticed the giant photographic banners waving in the breeze. "Look, Mummy, Aunt Hermione!" Oliver grinned foolishly when his sister did not correct her. In the stands they let the three kids sit together. The other two explained the game to Posy. They stood on their seats as the team took the field. They screamed when Hermione's name was announced. She took her place and closed her eyes. A fierce look took over her face.

"Game face," cheered Teddy. "Aunt Lioness is ready." Nearby fans chuckled at his observation. They watched as the action began. Everton threw everything they could into the game but were outclassed. Arsenal took the lead early and kept it. Despite the lead, they played to the best of their abilities. Hermione dug in and refused to allow a goal past her.

Near the end of the match, Oliver slipped from his place making his way to the tunnel leading to the locker room. A loud buzzer sounded. The crowd roared. Arsenal Ladies had won, undefeated for the season. The players celebrated on the field with hugs and back slaps. Oliver grinned broadly watching Hermione hug Grace and Marissa at the same time. The three of them jumped up and down, arms linked. He chuckled when Daisy raced across the field to leap on Hermione's back. Both women laughed. Arms over each other's shoulders the two women followed their teammates towards the locker room.

Hermione stopped when she saw Oliver standing just inside the concrete corridor. He swallowed nervously but waited for her to come to him. She'd skin him alive if he did this where all the cameras could record it. Daisy dragged her forward. He hoped he gave her a warm smile. He pulled the black box from his pocket dropping to one knee in front of her. "Hermione, ye've become the center of me life. And Ah can't wait to call ye me wife. Will ye marry me?"

Shock flashed on her face before a smile stretched across her face, "Yes, of course, yes!" She threw herself at him. He stood, pulling her into his arms. Her treatments cheered in approval and swept the couple along in celebration.

He pulled back at the door of the locker room. "Ah'm going to tell everyone ye accepted. We'll see ye after ye change."

She kissed him passionately, "Sounds like a plan." She left to change her clothes.

"Does this mean you're not coming out with us tonight?" asked Grace.'

"Don't be daft. It means I'll catch up with you after dinner."

"Harry, too?" perked up Daisy.

"Possibly. Up to him, really." Hermione shrugged. She showered quickly, keeping her hair out of the water. She dressed and shouldered her bag. After confirming the celebration plans with Kuhn, Hermione left the locker room. The PR team intercepted and steered her towards the press room. "A scoreless season, of course, they want to talk to you."

She dropped her bag inside the door and slid into the chair. Danvers beamed at her from the sidelines. "Hello, all. You know the drill, three questions, don't waste them. Um,starting at four. You." She pointed at a woman in the middle of the press seats.

"Claudia Street, Daily Telegraph, congrats on your win. How does it feel to finish the season on top?"

"Bloody fantastic. This is the dream you work for, fight for, and when it happens it is mind blowingly surreal." The reporter nodded. "Pick a number."

"Thirteen."

Hermione counted off the rows and seats, "And you." She pointed.

"Zach Lee, the Guardian. What do you say to commentators claiming your performance carried the team this season?"

"Balderdash, I was part of a squad that kept the other teams from scoring. I did not do that alone. I was just the last line in the sand. The rest of the squad ran around scoring, which is why we won every game without ties. Please pick a number."

Perhaps vexed Hermione did not produce a more drama stirring answer, or annoyed she only answered random questions, he picked, "Forty-three."

Hermione grinned, "Perfect, thanks." She counted, "Trent, fire away."

Trent Crimm stood, "Forgive me for this, I know your reluctance to discuss your personal life, but I have to ask: did a certain dashing man ask you an important question this evening?"

She nodded, more to herself than anyone else. He was allowing her to decide how much she wanted to share. "My long time paramour, Oliver Wood, did propose after the game. This is all I will ever say on the matter." She smacked her hands on the desk and stood, "And that is three. Have a great night, I know I will."

A reporter in the front sprang to his feet, "You can't leave things there. We need more, our readers want more, deserve more."

"No, they do not. Players are people, too. We have the right to keep parts of our lives private. I will discuss my career all day long. This phenomenal team of women for long than that. But my life outside this stadium, off that field, is mine. Real fans will be content with what I shared. Maybe even be happy for me. Also, you know the rules: three questions, three answers. Push and it will be one question, one answer. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, see you next season." She cast a fast charm to ensure none of them tried to spin her statement into something negative.

Hermione dropped onto the couch exhausted. Darcy had named dropped shamelessly that her cousin played professional football and was engaged to a Wood, yes those Woods. She despised banal chit chat and endured four hours of it. The only humorous parts was all of the finance women and wives pretending to know Oliver. She knew, at best, they knew of him as he never worked a day at Integrity. After their engagement Liam set up an office with his name on the door and talked a personal assistant out of retirement. She answered his nearly non existent phone calls and kept his calendar in case someone wanted a meeting. "Mostly in case Hermione's cousin or the fiance call trying to get a meeting. Given her large salary and that she spent most of her time reading magazines or knitting, Abigail Ross adored her job.

Kicking off her heels with a moan, she mentally acknowledged the rooftop reception hall looked elegant. But it was also one down and two to go. Including the drunken debauchery of Darcy's big hen do. She shuddered.

An owl pecked at the window. Hermione groaned and used magic to open the window. The owl swooped on and dropped a letter on her lap. Gracefully it flew back out the window. She opened it.

Hermione,

I hate to ask, but we're at a dead end with this ritual. Would you please come by and look it over? Maybe a fresh set of eyes will see what we're missing?

Percy

She groaned again. He wasn't demanding she fix it. He hadn't demanded she do anything. He was asking, as a friend or former colleague. She owed the man he became after the war to respond in kind. She climbed to her feet and declared her tea dress suitable for the ministry. She texted Oliver and used the floo.

She checked in at the visitor desk and strode purposefully across the atrium. Hearing her name she walked faster hoping to outpace the reporter wanting a quote. She grimaced when she heard the person throw themselves into the lift at the last second. "Miss Granger, wow, you are fast," a female voice huffed.

She turned to see a ministry underling leaned over, hands on her thighs, breathing heavily. "My apologies. I thought you were a reporter."

The clerk waved her off, "No worries." She straightened. "Hello, I'm Jennifer Tilly. I work in Legal Estates, you know, wills and such."

"Nice to meet you. Did you need me for something?"

"No, more I was hoping to impose upon you. You're engaged to Oliver Wood. I need to get some documents to his sister, Emily Clearwater, nee Travers. But all owls addressed to her solely return undelivered."

"Odd. Oliver owled her last week."

Jennifer looked at her feet then back up at Hermione. "I've tested it. I sent a missive to her and her husband offering estate planning. That arrived without issues. I then sent one to just her. It came back unopened. May I impose upon you to deliver this extremely important time sensitive message to come see me."

"Certainly," Hermione pulled out her mobile, checked the warding was in place and called Oliver. "Would you collect Em and bring her to see Jennifer Tilly at the ministry? Incredibly important and time sensitive. Has to be now. I'll meet you there." He agreed. She looked at Jennifer, "He's getting her now and they will be here shortly."

"Thank you. Muggle gadgets can be so efficient," Jennifer beamed.

Percy greeted her warmly, and lead her into an inner office. "I appreciate this so much."

"I know. I'm only here because it's you and you asked. Let me see it." She looked it over, her mind whirling as she processed it. "I see what you mean. I suggest going back to the original goal. Remove the death clock. Without the ritual they performed we can't break it. It might be time to start leaning on them. Lives are being ruined, families torn apart, and people are dying. Maybe we should throw them to the mob."

"I'll pass that along. Thoughts on the death clock?"

"Start from scratch. Do it more as a countermeasure. Even without love we will not die."

He escorted her out, "Thanks again, Hermione." She nodded and made her way to Legal Estates.

Emily paced on the gray tile floor going from one beige wall to the other. "Those bitches!"

Hermione looked to Oliver for clarification. "If any Richard Travers' daughters married and remained married for five years the daughters inherit the Travers estate. But only have a small window to claim it. Another three days and it would default to Cousin Agnes."

"Explaining why she wanted you driven from the family. And why owls addressed to only you never delivered their messages," said Hermione.

"Do you think Veruca knows, or Stephan?" demanded Emily.

Hermione thought on it, "No, Veruca would have wanted the money or property. So, it is also unlikely Stephan knows. Agnes filled her head with lies and delusions and now she's spent five years believing them."

"Well, those vicious shrews get nothing. Every knut belongs to me and my sisters," stated Emily. "I can't wait to see their faces."

A feral smirk slowly spread across Hermione's face, "Want to expose them and pay them back for all the misery they've put you through?"

"Merlin, yes!"

"Don't say anything yet. Have everything moved to a new vault for the three of you. In three days have some of your witnesses and gossips over for dinner. Keep entertaining until Agnes and Veruca come to confront you. Also visit a solicitor about divorce Get some information about grounds for separation, child custody. Leave them where Stephan will see them."

"Make him worry yer about to leave him," said Oliver. "And if ye do want a divorce ye know ye have our support."

"Thank you," Emily smiled. "I guess I'm headed to Gringotts." Hand in hand Oliver and Hermione followed her to the floo bank. They flooed home.

AN: Hee hee. Look at me burying the lead there.