Love and Understanding

I wasn't half surprised when the England Seeker, Mitchell Bodkin, tapped me on the shoulder, pointed at the stands and said, "Is that a friend of yours?"

It was early December. The nights were getting longer, the days were getting colder, and England squad practices were becoming the kind of hellish ordeal that I'd expect to find in a torture cell.

It had been about two months since I'd last seen Hermione. Work and circumstances had conspired to keep us apart. We'd written, of course. Some of my most personal thoughts and feelings were in those letters, and as time went on, I'd felt more able to open up completely. She seemed to know me better than I know myself. I was privileged because I got to see her hidden depths; the side of Hermione Granger that not even her two best friends were aware of. It gave me a feeling of smug satisfaction, and whenever I had a particularly ugly session on the pitch, I would remember that feeling, and it would give me a boost.

I had sent a practice schedule to Hermione ages ago, but she hadn't turned up at any so far, so I'd pretty much given up hope. Which is why I damned near fell off my broom when Bodkin pointed out the tiny brunette in the stands. I waved frantically; she did the same. "Girlfriend?" asked Bodkin, winking approvingly.

"Um... no. Not right now," I replied, trying not to think too much about where the 'not right now' bit had come from.

The Captain, Ian Molloy, flew over to me. "For God's sake, Wood, pull yourself together!" he barked. "We're not here to piss about. Or would you like to be sacked in front of your lady friend?"

I didn't bother replying; he'd already zoomed off to yell at someone else. Bodkin shrugged as if to say, 'What can you do?' and ascended to his normal position, ten feet above us all. I glanced down at Hermione in the stands. She was bundled up in a Gryffindor scarf and a thick woolly hat. She waved again, and blew me a kiss.

My stomach did a flip-flop.

"Heads up, Wood!" I heard Beth Leonard yell, and I was just in time to catch the Quaffle as it shot past my head.

Molloy blew his whistle. "Pathetic, Wood! You think you can just stare at people during a match? You don't get told when to catch a Quaffle; you're supposed to be on the lookout at all times. Get better, or get dropped."

Twenty miserable minutes later, I was trudging back to the dressing room. "Don't mind Molloy," said Bodkin. "He's just got his knickers in a twist because of his divorce."

I nodded, but it didn't make me feel much better.

She did, though.

Hermione handed me a mug of steaming hot chocolate the second I came out of the dressing room, grabbed my hand, and led me up to a sheltered section of the stands. I grinned at her gratefully, sipping my hot chocolate carefully so as not to scald my tongue.

"Sorry I caused you trouble," she said. "Molloy's a bit of an arse, isn't he?"

I snorted. "Yeah, you could say that. He's reasonable sometimes, though. You OK?"

She nodded, but I sensed there was something she wasn't telling me. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just... well, that article kind of made things difficult for me at school. Everyone keeps looking at me, and Lavender and Parvati are always asking me stuff... even Harry and Ron believe it."

Uh-oh, I thought, warning bells going off in my head. "What article?"

She gaped at me in surprise. "Y-You mean... you don't know? Oh, God..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar-looking newspaper. The Daily Prophet. It was dated for today. "Page 5," she mumbled, staring out across the pitch.

I rifled through the paper, my eyes dancing over page 5 until I saw... "Oh, dear..." I muttered.

LOVE FOR RISING QUIDDITCH STAR?

England's new Keeper, Oliver Wood, has been a bit of a heart-throb ever since he was signed to the team two years ago. For a long time he has lived the single life, delighting thousands of women across the UK, but this reporter has it on good authority that unfortunately for his female fan club, Wood has at last found love.

He has been sighted on several occasions with a sixth-year Hogwarts student, Hermione Granger, but the true nature of their relationship has remained a mystery until now.

"Oh, yeah," said our anonymous source, "they've both got it bad. They're forever owling each other, meeting up, drooling over each other. It's definitely love." Our source is close to both Miss Granger and Mr Wood, and assures us that, "I wouldn't say it if I weren't 100% sure."

Miss Granger's love life has been the subject of speculation before - just two years ago she was rumoured to be two-timing Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, and Viktor Krum, world-renowned Bulgarian seeker. One wonders if Miss Granger's taste for famous men is getting the better of her once more. Leah Oolie, President of the Official Oliver Wood Fan Club, says, "She'd better watch her step. If she hurts him, she'll have a lot of angry people to answer to."

I growled and ripped the article to shreds. "Hermione," I said when I was finished, "listen to me. You're better than this. You're better than them. Don't let them get to you."

She shook her head. "Oliver, they're all over school, just waiting to make my life hell. Either they think I've bewitched you in some way, and it's not real, or they think it is real, and I'm about to cheat on you with the nearest man available." She sniffled. "I'm sorry. I just hate this kind of thing. Who do you think was the source?"

I frowned, and put an arm round her trembling shoulders. "I don't know. But I'll find out, OK? God, don't these newspapers have anything better to do?"

She shook her head against the crook of my neck. "No. They live off stuff like this. They're bloody vampires."

"I know," I murmured. Then I sat up straight. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

She sighed. "I'm missing Potions. I just couldn't take going into that dungeon and spending the entire lesson getting taunted by that... that...." Words failed her.

"So you Flooed here? Hermione, I'm touched, but aren't you worried about adding fuel to the rumours? Or worse, being seen and getting in trouble at school?"

"I'm starting to think that getting expelled wouldn't be so bad. At least I wouldn't have to be constantly teased. Malfoy's such an arsehole."

I stared at her, shocked, and feeling the beginnings of something unpleasant growing in the pit of my stomach. On the one hand, Hermione was clearly losing her mind if she was talking about expulsion as a good thing. I needed to help her out, and fast. And yet... if this was how it was... if this was how she felt about people thinking I was her boyfriend... maybe nothing could ever happen between us.

She glanced up at me and saw the expression on my face. "What?"

"Nothing."