Love and Understanding

I looked down at my dress robes. They weren't exactly shabby, but I wished I'd thought about it a bit more before throwing on the first set I found. I'd Flooed into the Entrance Hall after a quick bit of emergency conversation with Dumbledore. Honestly, that man should patent those twinkling eyes of his - you could use them to market products and swindle politicians alike.

It didn't take a genius to work out where the party was. The loud music was coming from the doors to my left, and I could hear muffled laughter and conversation. Please let this go OK, I thought. Please.

I took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. I slipped in unnoticed, at first. But then some girl did a double-take and gasped; she elbowed her friends and pointed. Nearby I could see others doing the same. I began to wish I'd used the glamour from several months ago. Slowly, I made my way through the crowds, nodding at people I knew, but all the time I was searching for her...

Someone collided with me from the right. I whirled around and saw Harry dancing with a girl. "Hi Oliver," he said, and winked. "You come to rescue Hermione?"

I flushed slightly. "Well, actually - hang on. Rescue her?"

Harry pointed across the dance floor. I squinted - and then I saw them. I saw her. "Wow," I murmured, not even aware of Harry or his date any more. "She looks gorgeous."

Harry's date giggled.

That dress... it must have been made for her, I thought. She looked radiant. Then reality kicked in, and I saw the bastard she was dancing with. I'd know that face anywhere; I'll always remember what he called her years ago. My eyes narrowed; a raging, jealous fire flared up inside me, and I pushed my way through the dancing couples, desperate to get there...

He saw me first, over her shoulder. Malfoy. His eyes widened at the expression on my face. She turned around to see what he was looking at, and her mouth dropped open.

"You," I said, when I arrived breathing heavily, "bastard. Get away from her."

I was vaguely aware of the crowd forming around us. "Oliver," said Hermione. "Oliver, he wasn't doing..."

I took her hand and pulled her away. "He doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you."

Malfoy sneered. "And I suppose you do?"

I floundered for an instant. I hadn't been expecting that. "I... I can't claim anything. I won't," I looked at her. "But I'd like to."

I heard some of the girls sighing in the background. "Save me before I die of a sugar overdose," Malfoy said disparagingly. "Honestly..." And he walked away.

Hermione dropped my hand. "What are you doing here?"

Eek. "I... I'm here to tell you that I made a mistake. A big mistake. And I'm sorry."

She glanced at the group of people who were watching us curiously. "Um... perhaps we'd better step outside."

We walked amid murmurs to the French doors that led to the terrace. I shut them behind us, and cast a quick spell to frost the glass. Behind them, someone groaned with disappointment. "I was an idiot," I said quickly. "I thought I was being noble, by letting you go. Turns out I was just hurting both of us."

"You can say that again," she said, and clamped her lips shut as if she hadn't meant to say anything.

"Talk to me," I urged her. "I need to know how you're feeling."

"Oh, you need to know, do you?" she snapped. "That's great. I'll tell you everything you need to know, shall I? Let's just forget all the stuff that I need to kow. Like why one second we're friends, and the next we're going down the 'more than' path. Or why we're so imcompatible and yet... perfect for each other. Or - and dare I say it, this is the most important one - why you just said 'no' without giving me a bloody good explanation!"

I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. I felt so helpless. "I... I did have an explanation. It sounded good in my head at the time, but not anymore. See, the thing is, I thought maybe I could protect you by pushing you away. My life, it's... it's not private, Hermione. And if you get involved with me, your life won't be, either."

She sighed. "I know. But surely, if nothing else, that's my decision to make?"

I nodded. "I know that now. I think I knew it then. But I was kidding myself."

She was silent for a while, staring out across the grounds. "You look beautiful in the moonlight," I blurted out suddenly.

To my surprise, she smiled and laughed. "Does that mean we can only go out at night?"

"Well, of course not - hey. Does... are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I thought that was obvious," she replied, still smiling but not looking at me.

I moved closer to her, and tipped her chin up with a finger. "Did I mention that I love you?"

I kissed her before she could respond. Her mouth was warm, soft, and welcoming. My arms slipped around her waist and we leaned against the stone balustrades. "You realise," she said breathlessly, pulling away, "that we're snogging mere feet away from several hundred people, including a set of professors whom I will never, ever be able to look in the eye again?"

"Of course I do," I replied. "I just don't care." And I kissed her once more.

* * *

WOOD GETS THE GIRL - FOR REAL THIS TIME

England Keeper, Oliver Wood, has really found love. In a shocking showdown at Hogwarts, he nearly attacked Draco Malfoy, a sixth year pupil, and then absconded with Hermione Granger. According to close friends of the couple- ("Bloody Fred and George again," Oliver declared) -they professed their love for one another and 'spent two hours snogging each other's faces off'.

The couple were recently surprised to find themselves romantically linked in a newspaper- ("What?!" exclaimed Hermione. "It was this bloody newspaper, the buggers.") -when this was not the case. However, that situation has been rectified, and the pair are now enjoying their time together over Christmas before Wood must return to training.

Despite the fact that its members would prefer Wood to remain available, the Official Oliver Wood Fan Club has wished them the best of luck. Ms. Oolie, the President, says she is sticking to her earlier warnings to Miss Granger.

It was breakfast time on Boxing Day, and for the first time in a few years, Oliver was sitting at the Gryffindor table. He was installed next to his (brand new) girlfriend, Hermione, who had just been reading the article in the Daily Prophet. She was now watching as he enthusiastically shovelled eggs and bacon onto his plate. "Molloy is going to kill you, you know," she remarked.

He grinned. "Stuff Molloy. I haven't had a decent meal in ages."

"Oh, poor Oliver, all on his own in that luxury penthouse apartment. How tragic," said Harry. "Still, I'm sure Hermione'd be more than willing to keep you company."

Hermione socked him in the arm.

"Violence at the Gryffindor table? And I thought you were all such good examples." It was Malfoy, who was making the most of his very temporary 'He's-an-OK-bloke' status, and pinching their supply of tomato ketchup.

"Har-dee-har-har," muttered Hermione, but she was smiling all the same. She suspected that she hadn't actually stopped smiling for the last twelve hours at least.

Oliver glanced at his watch. "Who's up for a trip to Hogsmeade, then?"

A chorus of affirmative replies was his response, and there was a mad scramble to get to the door. "Boxing Day sales!" squealed Ginny, narrowly avoiding being trampled in the rush.

Oliver took Hermione's hand and they walked out last, together.

The End