Chapter 1
It was at the beginning of December in 1993, during her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that Hermione Granger had to admit — not to anyone else, mind you, but to herself at least — that she had a huge crush and had had one since somewhere in her first year at school.
She didn’t have a crush on Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and with whom she had spent the better amount of the last three years, even though most would probably expect him to be her crush given his celebrity status and the closeness they had to each other. But even though some other girls from school had a crush on him, she had never seen him that way.
Neither did she have a crush on Ron Weasley. How could she with him bickering and fighting with her so often and most of this school year, actually? She would never forgive him for how he had treated Crookshanks from the beginning of this year. She could somehow understand Ron’s aversion towards the cat which seemed to be keen on catching and eating Scabbers, Ron’s rat, but he was a cat, for the love of god! Catching mice and rats was in his blood and nature!
No, Hermione had to admit that she had developed a hearty crush on no one other than Oliver Wood, seventh-year and captain and keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
How that came to be, she was more than unsure which was also more than unusual. Hermione always knew everything and her own lack of knowledge concerning this matter almost made her furious.
In addition, she didn’t have the time nor energy to think about how this came about nor to in any way act on it as she was exhausted all the time.
The second confession she made to nobody but herself was that she had probably bitten off more than she was able to chew with all the classes she took this year.
Right now, Hermione sat in a quiet corner of the library, trying to focus on the Arithmancy homework she had gotten today. To keep on track of all the work she had to finish she had made it a habit to finish her homework the day she got it so she could squeeze in some time to not only study but also read ahead in order to keep her grades up.
This Wednesday though, her thoughts kept on running away from her and she put her quill down with a frustrated groan. It was nerve-wracking how a boy, not to mention a bloody Quidditch player, was able to distract her from her work. If she had had the chance, she would’ve been ready to throttle him for doing that to her!
In order to finally soothe her mind, Hermione allowed her thoughts to stray in the direction of said Quidditch captain, pondering on their last real interaction about a month ago.
~
A month before
It had been during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff on a Saturday at the beginning of November. The weather had been awfully stormy and Hermione wanted nothing more than the game to end so they could all get back to the common room and she, ultimately, to her homework.
The game, however, appeared to be endless which wasn’t surprising as it must’ve been impossible to spot the snitch in this weather and end the game. She had been in the stands in between the rest of Gryffindor house next to Ron, who was screaming and groaning with each turn of the game, when the Gryffindor team descended for a time out.
“What is Harry supposed to do to catch the snitch in this weather? There’s no bloody way he’ll be able to see it,” Ron said and Hagrid, who stood behind them, effectively shielding them from most of the wind, nodded in agreement. An idea suddenly came to her and Hermione rushed towards the stairs and down the stands without saying a word, leaving behind a baffled redhead and bewildered Hagrid.
Upon reaching the team on the pitch, holding her cloak above her head to avoid getting drenched by the rain, she stopped behind Harry’s shoulder beaming at him, being rather proud of herself and her idea.
“I’ve had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!”
He handed them to her and, as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, “Impervius!”
“There!” she said, handing them back to Harry. “They’ll repell water!”
Saying that she continued to beam at Harry before looking at the rest of the team and, ultimately, at Oliver Wood.
He looked as though he could have kissed her.
Blushing, Hermione quickly turned around to return to the stands but she was somehow able to catch his praising, “Brilliant!”, as she disappeared into the crowd.
Waiting for her face to cool down and for her blush to fade, Hermione waited at the bottom of the stairs before climbing them and getting back to Ron and Hagrid to finish watching the game.
In spite of what happened later and how the game ended with the Dementors coming onto the pitch, Harry falling from his broom and almost crashing to his death, Dumbledore’s fury towards the Dementors and Hufflepuff winning the game, Hermione could not forget the way Oliver Wood had looked at her.
That was the first night she saw Oliver Wood’s face in her dreams.
~
Present
Frustrated, Hermione grabbed her quill to get back to work. She knew Wood had only looked at her like that because he had been thankful for her help as it could’ve helped them win the game. Had the Dementors not come to the match, Harry would’ve caught the snitch, she was sure of it.
This crush was stupid and she knew it. In any way, she would never have the chance of getting to know Oliver Wood better. They never talked as they had no mutual interests and he was far older than her, as he was about to finish his last year at Hogwarts this summer.
Everything he seemed to be interested in was Quidditch and she couldn’t quite grasp everyone’s hype of the sport. Sure, she went to all of Gryffindor’s matches but that was to support Harry and her house. She would rather stay in, reading a book, especially when the weather was as bad as it had been a month ago.
Moreover, there were likely a lot of other, older and more beautiful girls interested in the Gryffindor captain. Boys would never believe the way girls talked about them when in the restrooms, fixing their hair and make-up or washing their hands.
Just a week ago, Hermione overheard two Ravenclaw seventh-years talking about Oliver Wood, one of them saying she “would like to make use of his wand and charm him silly”. As the two of them were giggling and leaving the restroom, Hermione had to wait in the stall for her blush to go down and consequently, she had nearly been late for her next class. (She was never late!)
Her frustration grew and she finally started putting away her homework as it made no sense to try and focus. It was impossible to concentrate as her mind kept returning to brown hair and puppy-dog eyes. She would have to finish her work later today or over the weekend. At least she had been able to finish her work for Muggle Studies, Divination and Transfiguration. They didn’t get any homework in Care of Magical Creatures as they were tending to Flubberworms all the time, so what was one class out of four, really?
Leaving the library, Hermione slung the strap of her book bag over her shoulder as it ripped with a loud sound. Seeing all her books, parchment and quills scattered on the floor with two broken ink jars spilling blue and red ink everywhere, she was on the verge of tears.
“Oi, can I help you?”
Hermione froze for a second at the sound of his voice and quickly searched her robes for her wand when he stopped next to her.
“No, thank you, I’m fine!” she croaked but he was faster than her and waved his wand, casting a non-verbal cleansing charm, erasing the splashed ink from her finished homework.
She was impressed. Non-verbal magic was not easy and though she knew students learned it in sixth year and he was in his seventh, Professor Flitwick had told her many people did not master it until later in their lives.
“Th-Thank you!” she said again, quickly kneeling down to collect her belongings and to avoid looking at him.
However, he knelt down next to her and waved his wand again, the spell repairing her book bag.
“No worries. It's Hermione Granger, right?” He took the book bag and held it open for her, smiling.
Oliver Wood was smiling at her and he knew her name, her full name! (Well, except middle name, but how could he know that? No one ever called her Jean at Hogwarts.)
She nodded and quickly collected her belongings into the bag. What had she done for meeting him today of all days? This would no doubt spark her crush to become even worse!
“I actually wanted to thank you again for the spell you used on Potter’s glasses during the game. I should’ve thought about that, Flitwick had just taught us the spell a few weeks earlier. How come you were able to cast it?” He seemed genuinely interested in her answer.
Hermione had never heard him talk so much about something other than Quidditch, a thought that made her grin. Taking the bag from him with a thankful smile, she got to her feet, pushing her hair from her face with her free hand.
“I was reading up on some charms some weeks ago and thought it might be useful in the bad weather.”
He nodded thoughtfully, standing next to her and she wondered what he had done in the library at this time of the day. It was just before dinner and only a couple of students usually spend that time studying or doing homework. She had never spotted him in there before but maybe he just chose to sit where she didn’t and she guessed he had some studying to do with his NEWTs coming up in the summer.
“I’m sorry you lost the match, though,” she continued before thinking and regretted it straight away seeing his frustrated face.
“Yeah, so am I. I just hope Potter is going to get a new broom soon. That Shooting Star he uses during training will be no good in an actual match. And of course he has to get used to the new broom before the next match, so he should really start thinking about which one he wants to buy.”
There he was, back to talking about brooms and Quidditch again. She somehow found his enthusiasm endearing, though. As well as his Scottish accent if she was being honest.
A moment later, he raised a hand and put it on her left arm, gently pushing her to her right as they were blocking the way to and from the library. His hand remained on her arm for just a second longer while he smiled at the Hufflepuffs walking by, one of them being a member of the house’s team.
Hermione looked down at his hand on her robe-covered arm as he let it fall down. Blushing a bit, she took a step back from him, brushing her hair from her face once more, not noticing that he was looking at her again.
“Hey, Granger, wanna go down to dinner together?”
For a second she thought her heart would skip a beat at the kind offer but she shook her head. “Thanks but I want to go up to the common room first.”
“Good idea, why carry around books if you don’t have to. I’ll come with you, if that’s okay?”
Blushing even more furiously, she nodded and they started to make their way through the corridors and towards Gryffindor Tower. Every now and then they met other students from different houses and he exchanged some words with most of them whilst she remained silent. No doubt was he popular, not only amongst Gryffindor House.
“Anyway, I was also wondering if you knew of any other spells that could be useful in our next match. Only legal ones, of course. Maybe one that’ll help with the sun or wind? I might also ask Flitwick about it, but since we’re talking anyway…”
Now she understood. He was only talking to her to make use of her charm work for the next match. He desperately wanted to win the Quidditch House Cup this year as it was his last at Hogwarts, Harry told her. And he thought she could help.
“If I can think of one, I’ll make sure to let Harry know,” she said as they approached Sir Cadogan’s portrait which still guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.
He caught her hand before she could say the password. “No, no, let me know! Potter’s only going to forget and he’s rubbish at Charms. Promise you’ll tell me, if you can think of more spells?”
Letting go of her hand as soon as she stopped, he looked down on her. Hermione had never noticed how tall he was until now and she quickly nodded.
“Brilliant! Thanks, Granger!”
Luckily, they met some of Wood’s classmates in the Common Room and Hermione was somehow able to send him off on his way to the Great Hall with them.
Even though she had not been able to finish all her homework today, it had been a good evening nonetheless.