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Hermione Granger was determined to beat this irrational fear of hers. She was a witch, for crying out loud. Throughout her childhood she’d believed that witches rode broomsticks “ it followed, therefore, that Hermione should ride one too.
With that thought in mind, she approached the broomstick Ginny had lent her. Taking a deep breath, Hermione commanded, “Up!”
The broomstick leapt toward her outstretched hand, then stopped, hovered uncertainly, and began slowly lowering back toward the ground. Hermione growled and snatched it up, seating herself astride it.
“Doing pretty well,” she murmured. “Now, if I could just go upwards very gently...” Her breath caught as the broomstick rose slowly, twirling around gently as if it were a pinwheel caught in a breeze. “Stop that,” Hermione snapped, jerking the handle of the broomstick straight.
The broomstick took that as encouragement to really start flying. It shot off in the direction Hermione had pointed it while she tried to hang on for dear life. When she tried to adjust her grip, the broomstick flew even higher.
Air rushed past Hermione at sickening speeds, whipping her eyes and causing her cheeks to sting. She couldn’t remember for the life of her how to brake, how to stop. She couldn’t even get the broomstick to fly lower. “I’m going to die,” she realized suddenly. She’d survived the war and even her N.E.W.T.s, but a simple broomstick flight was about to be too much for her. Panic loosened her fingers around the broomstick and before she knew it she’d slid off and was headed toward the ground.
“Where’s my wand, where’s my wand?” Hermione cried, trying to control her flailing arms to reach her wand to slow herself down “ the ground was speedily growing closer. She’d just resigned herself to a most humiliating death when her progress downwards stopped; her hair, which had been flying behind her, fell forward into her face as she lay motionless in midair. With a bit of a struggle, Hermione turned her head to see a figure on a broomstick, wand outstretched.
“Thank you,” she called “ or tried to; her voice seemed to have been ripped away by the wind and came out rather weaker than she would have liked. She couldn’t see from this distance who her mysterious rescuer was, but whoever it was flew toward her now.
“Hermione Granger.” The voice was pleasant, slightly familiar, and above all amused. “Never would have expected to meet you in this fashion.”
Hermione squinted, still trying to see the speaker against the bright sunlight in her eyes “ all she could tell was that it was a male. “Pardon me, but who are you?”
The person laughed. Instead of answering, he swooped close and picked her up, depositing her in front of him on his broomstick. Hermione immediately turned around and surveyed her rescuer.
“Oliver Wood,” Hermione remarked. “Well, I’m grateful at least that I’ve seen you before in my life “ which has been lengthened by your opportune arrival.”
“Would I have known you if you had never seen me before?” Oliver asked, nudging Hermione’s shoulder until she faced front so he could begin flying again.
“You’d be surprised,” Hermione said, raising her voice slightly to be heard. “After the war, and all the publicity we got, Harry, Ron, and I can hardly go anywhere without being recognized. I have complete strangers asking me on dates all the time.”
“Awkward,” Oliver murmured in her ear. “Hermione, I have a question for you.”
She stiffened; was she about to get yet another date invitation? “Yes?”
“Why were you even on a broomstick? You obviously don’t know how to fly.”
Hermione stifled a relieved sigh and rolled her eyes, though Oliver couldn’t see. “Blame Ginny. Actually, no, you could probably blame Harry. Blame both of them, come to think of it. They’re getting married, you know.”
“I had heard that “ am I dropping you off at the Burrow?”
“Yes, please. Anyway, they had the brilliant idea of holding the wedding in the air, on broomsticks, and since Ginny asked me to be her maid of honor, I have to get comfortable on a broom before then.”
“Oh, so it’s not just your latent inability to accept failure at anything,” Oliver said, chuckling.
“Not entirely,” Hermione conceded. “I have a question for you, Oliver.”
“Go ahead.”
“You don’t live around here, do you? Then why did you just happen to be flying by in time to save me?”
“I was just ... flying by,” Oliver said. “I fly around the countryside a lot these days “ when I’m not at practice or teaching, or at social obligations I can’t avoid. It was pure luck that I was flying here today, though.”
“Well, thank you,” Hermione remarked. “I appreciate it.”
“It was really no problem,” Oliver replied with a hint of smile in his voice. “That spell’s almost second nature to me now “ I teach beginning flying as well as being on the Puddlemere United team.”
“Oh, well that makes sense.”
“Here’s your stop, Miss Granger.” Oliver brought his broomstick neatly down near the Burrow’s front door.
“Thanks for the ride,” Hermione began, “and, well, for saving my life.”
“My pleasure.” Oliver adjusted his seat on the broomstick. “I’ll see you around, Hermione!”
“Bye,” Hermione said as he sent her a parting grin and zoomed off so fast it made her head reel. She turned around and made her way toward the house.
Ginny opened the door before she could get to it. “I was just about to send a search party out to look for you,” she informed Hermione. “Your broomstick made it safely home without you.”
“It’s your broomstick,” Hermione reminded her. “Anyway, I fell off it and would have died “ at least, I would have been severely injured “ if Oliver Wood hadn’t, er, caught me.”
“Oliver Wood! How is he doing these days?”
“All right.” Hermione shrugged. “We didn’t talk about much, and it was still largely Quidditch-related, so...he hasn’t changed much, it seems.”
Ginny narrowed her eyes at Hermione. “You’re shocked and embarrassed at the whole situation but he made an impression on you and you’d like to run into him “ fall into him, perhaps? “ again.”
Hermione shuddered. “No, I wouldn’t want to fall into him. Once was bad enough “ Ginny, I’m not sure I can be your maid of honor.”
“Nonsense,” Ginny replied. “I’ll take you flying tomorrow “ if you’re not alone, things will go better.” She crossed her arms. “Would you like to see him again?”
“I’m “ not sure. It was nice to talk to him, however briefly. But there’s very little chance of it, Ginny, so I’m going to put it out of mind.”
“You’d be surprised how much chance there is,” Ginny said mysteriously. “We’ve all been invited to a Ministry party next week “ Harry, me, you, and Ron “ and Oliver being the hot-shot Quidditch player he is will surely be in attendance.”
Hermione stomped her foot in mock anger. “Oooh, Ginny, don’t do this to me! You might be surprised but I’m not trying to enter a relationship at the moment. I just left one! So ... just ... stop teasing me!”
Ginny smirked. “All right. Come on inside and I’ll make you some tea.”
***
Hermione found herself dressing more carefully than usual for the Ministry party, which surprised her. Who was she trying to impress? Oliver Wood flitted briefly into her mind, but she shoved that thought right out.
“He probably won’t even come,” Hermione told herself, pulling out her mascara “ which she rarely used “ and putting just a dab on her eyelashes. “I just want to look nice for once.”
“And you do.” Ginny stood in the doorway. “You look very nice indeed. Who are you trying to impress?”
Hermione blushed. “No one. Are you ready to go?”
“We’re just waiting for you,” Ginny informed her.
“I’m...ready,” Hermione said, checking herself in the mirror one last time. “Let’s go.”
Hermione was the only one of the four who preferred to Apparate, but since they were running a little later than usual they all decided to forego the brooms (which Hermione wouldn’t have been able to handle anyway) and Apparate to the party together. With a crack, the Burrow’s kitchen was replaced with a well-cultivated garden dotted with milling people admiring the flowers.
“How long do you think it will be before someone notices it’s us?” Harry muttered, and right on cue a passerby said, “Well! If it isn’t the Wonder Four!”
Hermione winced at the title, and the rush of people coming to talk at them, tell them how wonderful they looked, how nice the party was, wasn’t it? and congratulate Harry and Ginny on their upcoming nuptials “ weren’t they just the cutest couple ever?
Luck was with her, though, because the first person to find her was Dean Thomas, hand-in-hand with Padma Patil.
“You look nice, Hermione,” Padma said, smiling. “How have you been?”
“Oh, well enough.” Hermione was more than happy to make small talk with people she already knew, and before long more of her old school friends had surrounded her and they chatted happily about old times at Hogwarts, keeping well away from the topic of war and war heroes.
Someone crept up behind her and traced a thin scratch on her face that she’d tried to hide. “You didn’t have that last time I saw you,” murmured a familiar voice.
Hermione turned around to look at the speaker, though she thought she already knew who it was. “That is because, Oliver Wood, I received it yesterday while practicing flying. Thank you for alerting everyone to its presence and heralding a new flood of condolences on my injury.”
Oliver looked meaningfully at the underside of her jaw, where she had a scar from battles fought long ago. “A scratch merits an injury?”
“To those who wish to gain favor with a celebrity, a twitch of my eye signals the onset of a deadly disease rather than my remarkable self-control in not murdering them all on the spot. Of course a scratch merits an injury.”
“I stand corrected “ though I know exactly what you mean,” Oliver said with a chuckle. “Would you care to walk with me a bit, Miss Granger?”
“Certainly,” replied Hermione, accepting his proffered arm and waving to her friends. “Anything to get away from those crowds.”
“I feel like we didn’t get to catch up properly when we met the other day,” Oliver said as they strolled through a garden. Hermione noticed he didn’t say “when I saved your life” and was grateful for his tact.
“You’d be hard pressed to find anything about me you’d need to catch up about,” Hermione remarked. “All you’d have to do is read the society columns and find out all you need to know “ and more,” she added in a mutter.
“Your break-up with Ron was indeed well publicized,” Oliver said, putting a hand on her arm. “I was sorry to hear about that.”
They both turned and looked toward the young man in question, surrounded by several very beautiful girls, all clamoring for his attention.
“It couldn’t have lasted,” Hermione admitted. “I mean, look at him “ he enjoys it all. He’ll find one that’s prettier than I could ever hope to be, and not so much smarter than him that he feels he’s always three steps behind, and not with our complicated history. He’ll be happier that way.”
Oliver continued looking in that direction for a minute, then looked back at Hermione, brow quirked. “I don’t think any of those girls is even remotely prettier than you could ever hope to be.”
Hermione blushed “ while her face flamed, she could feel it creeping up her neck and knew even her arms showed some of her fluster. “That’s very kind of you to say,” she stammered, unable to think of anything else. Oliver looked away, murmuring something unintelligible, his ears showing a tinge of pink as well. He coughed and they continued on their walk.
After a moment, he began again, “The papers don’t really tell me much about how you are, though “ what books you’ve been reading, if you’ve mastered any new gourmet dishes, that sort of thing.”
“They probably didn’t even mention that I’m just now learning to fly a broomstick, either, did they?”
“No “ at least, not yet. So, what about it, Miss Granger? What heavier-than-thou tome have you been toting around lately?”
“I haven’t been, to speak of,” Hermione said. “I took a break from all that heavy reading.”
“What!” Oliver’s jaw dropped. “I’m shocked and appalled to hear such a thing!”
“Well, you should set aside your shock and ” ” Hermione stopped short.
“What happened now?”
“What’s the noun for appalled?” Hermione asked, embarrassed that her vast vocabulary had failed her.
“I’m sure I don’t know. Appalment, appallation, appallance...why do you ask?”
“Because I want you to set aside your shock and...appalment for a moment to let me explain. It’s not that I’ve stopped reading “ ” Oliver clutched his chest and gasped for air as if he’d been suffocating before “ “it’s just that I’m reading more pleasant things for a change. There are so many Wizarding novels that I never saw in my childhood that I needed to catch up on. And now “ now there’s finally time.” Hermione sighed happily and looked up at Oliver, who was grinning at her.
“I see,” he said. “Hey, I was thinking...”
“Yes?” Hermione said quickly. Was a date invitation on the way?
“I don’t see why it can’t just be ‘appall.’ So you set aside your shock and appall for a moment until you realize that I understand your desire to read children’s books, as they are my favorite kind.”
Hermione looked sidelong at him. “That’s clever. I wonder why I didn’t think of that “ and why you did.”
“Quidditch isn’t all I think about,” Oliver assured her. “Though I admit I do think about it a lot. Would you like to come to my game in a few days?”
The abruptness of his question made Hermione stop and stare at him. “Is this a hint that I don’t think about it enough?” she inquired.
Oliver smirked. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but sure. How about it, Hermione?”
“I’d be happy to come,” she said after a moment.
“Excellent.” The smile on Oliver’s face was different than the one Hermione was used to seeing “ it wasn’t a teasing grin, it wasn’t the ecstasy after he won a game, it was more ... happy. “Here are four tickets, enough for you, Ginny, Harry, and Ron. I hope you enjoy it.”
He stood and smiled at her for a moment or two, then turned away jerkily. “Miss Granger, I think it is time I release you to the tender ministrations of your other admirers. Much more time alone together and our names will appear in the society column.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” Hermione sighed. “I suppose you are right. My other admirers usually fail to provide as pleasant conversation as I have just had with you, though, Mr. Wood. With any luck, though, none of them will be as perceptive as you and notice my . . . injuries.”
My other admirers? Hermione realized suddenly. That had implications. Oliver tucked her hand more firmly into his arm and steered her back to the main party.
“Good luck, Miss Granger,” Oliver said formally, disengaging himself from her person. “Perhaps sometime I will see you and we can discuss what you’ve been reading.”
“Perhaps, Mr. Wood,” Hermione replied. “Goodbye, Mr. Wood “ and good luck yourself.” She could see a horde of fangirls “ very similar to the ones following Ron around “ sneaking up behind him. Without hesitation, she turned around and fled into the crowd to avoid unpleasant confrontations.
***
“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“Hermione, what are you saying?” Ginny threw her Omniculars on the bed and crossed her arms. “Why shouldn’t you go?”
“Well, I’m not sure...”
“Is it because you hate Quidditch?”
Hermione’s eyes flashed indignantly. “I don’t hate Quidditch! Sure, I think being obsessed with it is foolish, and I could never play it, but I have nothing against watching it! Why would you think I hate Quidditch?”
Ginny shrugged. “Then the reason you’re hesitating is Oliver.”
“I “ ” Hermione began, “er, yes.” She twirled a finger around a curl. “I mean, I hardly know him. There’s a connection there “ when he flirts with me, I actually like it. But what if I’m wrong? We never could have complemented each other at Hogwarts, why should now be any different?”
“Because it’s been years since Hogwarts. Things have happened, we’ve all changed. Besides, if it really comes down to it, you could do much worse than Oliver Wood. Wasn’t he on the cover of a magazine recently for being such a handsome Quidditch player?”
Hermione blushed. “Maybe. I don’t look at magazines much “ but I’m not surprised if he was.”
“Why are we even discussing this? Hurry and get ready, we need to go. You’re coming, right?”
“Um, sure. I’ll, just, er, be indecisive about it all later.”
“Or never.” Ginny pulled on Hermione’s arm. “You think about things too much. Now come on, we’re taking the Knight Bus and we don’t want to be late!”
Hermione did her best not to think about things too much on the Knight Bus ride over to the stadium. It helped that most of the passengers were on their way to the game “ they were rowdy and noisy, and it was nigh impossible to have a single coherent thought.
“These are really good seats,” Ron remarked as they climbed the rickety steps. “How did you ever manage this, Hermione?”
“Befuddled him with her rapier wit, no doubt,” Harry supplied, tweaking Hermione’s hair (the only bit of her he could reach).
Hermione thought it might not be the best idea to say that he’d befuddled her, so she turned and grinned at them as they sidled to their seats.
“The teams will come and stand on that platform over there,” Ron said, pointing directly across the stadium. “Then they’ll fly around the pitch once or twice and then “ it’s game on!” He punched the air enthusiastically.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Ginny said, nudging Hermione. “This must be your first Quidditch game since Hogwarts.”
“Just about,” Hermione replied absently. She could see the telltale navy blue that signalled the arrival of the Puddlemere United team; she raised her Omniculars and tried to find Oliver in the muddle.
“Ever wonder why Wood never joined the Wigtown Wanderers so he could wear red Quidditch robes his whole life?” Harry muttered to Ron; Hermione resisted the urge to flap her hand at them for quiet when it was really the red of the Wanderers’ robes that was distracting her.
“Oliver’s right there,” Ginny murmured in her ear, focusing Hermione’s Omniculars in the right place. “And he’s looking at you.”
“He can’t be looking at me! How could he possibly see me from all the way over there?” But Hermione had to admit that he seemed to be looking straight into her eyes and grinning. Then he raised his wand “ Hermione could tell from peripheral vision that the other members of the team did so as well “ and shot a small volley of sparks in the air before mounting his broomstick and zooming out around the stadium with the rest of his team.
One spark from Oliver’s wand didn’t dissipate like the rest: it flew across the stadium and exploded into several small sunbursts, right in front of Hermione.
“Told you he saw you,” Ginny said, smirking. “And if you’re worried about being singled out, the other team members’ sparks exploded like that, too. Just “ not in front of anyone.” She winked, then began concentrating on the game.
As Quidditch games went, it wasn’t the most exciting Hermione had ever been to “ but it was close. The Wanderers were down 40-0 when they called a timeout.
“They need to get pumped up!” Ron crowed gleefully. “Puddlemere’s beating them so bad they haven’t even scored yet!”
“Not the Wanderers’ usual performance, I’d have to agree,” Harry said. “Oliver hasn’t even had much to do, the Puddlemere Chasers are so good.”
“He’ll get his chance, darling, you wait and see,” Ginny insisted, squeezing his hand. “That pep talk is going to spur those Wanderers to action.”
Hermione listened casually, thinking less about the performance of the Wigtown Chasers and more about how every time her Omniculars strayed toward the Puddlemere Keeper, he was looking back in her direction.
“Less of that now,” she told herself as the game resumed and the Wigtown Chasers showed a definite response to their timeout “ Oliver actually had something to do for the rest of the game besides glance her way. Hermione had to content herself with actually following the game until the Puddlemere Seeker caught the Snitch.
“Good game,” Ginny remarked as they made their way down the rickety stairs. “What was your favorite part, Hermione?”
“Oh, you know I’m really not that interested in Quidditch,” Hermione reminded her. “I couldn’t ever tell you...say, shall we go and find Oliver?”
“Sure. I’ve been thinking of inviting him to the wedding.” Ginny grinned at her. “I guess you got over your indecision.”
“I’ll take it as it comes,” Hermione replied with a wink. “Oh no, that crowd is not where the team members are. We’ll never find him!”
“Find who?”
Hermione didn’t even need to turn around. “The Wigtown Seeker. Ginny had some advice for him,” she said nonchalantly.
“Oh, well, if that’s the case, I can go brave the fans to find him for you.” Oliver made to plunge into the crowd before Hermione caught his arm.
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” she said. “Look, Ginny isn’t even here anymore.” Upon realizing this, Hermione narrowed her eyes and found her slippery red-haired friend near the stadium exit, leading Ron and Harry off.
“She left you!” Oliver said in scandalized tones. “I was going to invite you all to tea at my place. Oh well.” He sighed sadly. “The boys really would’ve enjoyed my broom shed.”
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “It’s too late to catch them, they probably Disapparated already. Perhaps some other time?” She hoped the eagerness in her voice wasn’t too apparent.
“Oh, yes, definitely.” Oliver hesitated, then said quietly, “But, you know, you could come now. I did say we could discuss books sometime, and I have a nice collection.”
“Really? Well...” Hermione wished she could keep from blushing. “Thanks. I’d be happy to come.”
Oliver smiled “ the happy smile Hermione remembered from the party “ and offered her his arm. “It’s a quick walk if you go this way.”
He led her a circuitous route that ended at an inconspicuous back door to the stadium, and from there he could point out his little house.
“Very convenient,” Hermione remarked. “I suppose you get to entertain often.”
“Back when I first bought the house, I had parties here all the time. Then...I got tired of them. No, I don’t really entertain much anymore. I guess you should feel honored.”
“I do, I feel very honored,” Hermione replied, just a touch sardonic.
“You’re the first girl I’ve brought here in months,” Oliver continued on, then stopped, embarrassed for some reason. “And, er, well,” he stammered, “these are slightly different circumstances. I mean, I’m inviting you here as a “ a particular friend, not as a, well...”
“Once again, I feel honored,” Hermione interjected before he subjected them both to utter humiliation. “It is a very nice little house.”
“Well, would you like to come in?” Oliver held the door as she entered the house.
“Cozy” was Hermione’s first impression of the front room “ it was simply decorated but tastefully furnished, and right in plain view was a bookcase full of books. Hermione couldn’t stop herself from rushing right over and looking at his collection.
“I never knew you had so many,” she remarked.
“And they’re not all Quidditch-related either.” Oliver came up behind her and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’ve read them all, too. Before I started Hogwarts you could find me doing one of two things: reading or flying.”
“That’s amazing “ I never would have guessed,” Hermione said earnestly. “Then school started and you had to choose because with studying you could only do one, and you chose Quidditch.”
“Pretty much. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring you out a cup of tea?”
“All right,” Hermione said, sitting down on the sofa where she could still marvel at the bookcase.
“Cream or sugar?” Oliver asked, bringing in a tray of tea things. He started to laugh when he saw her still staring at his books. “You may borrow some if you like,” he offered.
“Both, thank you, and thank you. I might take you up on that.”
Oliver took a seat next to her and they sipped their tea in silence for a while. Hermione turned her attention from the books to his face, but he was deep in thought.
Finally he sighed and said quietly, “Hermione.”
It was more of a statement than a beginning of a question, so Hermione didn’t even have a date invitation in mind when, after a moment, she said, “Oliver?”
He blinked and turned to look at her. “You know, Hermione, I’ve had goals and dreams,” he said. “And I’ve achieved almost every one of them. I play professional Quidditch, I teach beginning flying on the side, I have my own home, I’ve been on the cover of a magazine “ ”
Hermione snorted.
“Well, I guess it is a silly dream. But the point is, here I am, successful at everything I wanted, and . . . it feels just a little bit empty. I’ve never found anyone I could really talk to “ and at the end of the day, when the latest beautiful fan has gone home to tell her friends who she kissed, talking’s all I really need.”
“I can understand that,” Hermione said, trying to tell the direction the conversation was going and sensing her as-yet-unadmitted feelings for him getting slightly disappointed. He just wanted someone to talk to because he could get any girl to snog him anytime.
“Will you hold my hand?” Oliver asked abruptly.
“What, now?” Hermione said, startled.
“Um...” he faltered. “Sure, now. But I meant in general. Will you be a friend to me that will comfort me, rejoice with me, be there for me?”
“I...can try,” Hermione replied. “I’d do anything to help you be happy, Oliver. I want you to be happy “ which is surprising. I mean, I never thought I’d see anything in common with Captain Wood, but here we are.” She reached across and tentatively put her hand over his.
Oliver’s brow was furrowed as he turned his hand over and captured hers, squeezing it tightly. “This isn’t going right. I’m saying it all wrong. A friend is what I really need, Hermione, but what I’m really trying to say is, well, I need you. It’s not that I’ve finally found just anyone that can hold a pleasant conversation with me, it’s that I’ve found you to talk to me, keep me company, make me happy. I’ve fallen for you, Hermione, and I want you by my side.”
“You’ve fallen for me?” Hermione said quietly. “Well, then I should catch you. It’s only fair, after all “ you caught me when I fell.”
“Thank goodness,” Oliver added. “The best good deed I’ve done in my life.” He smiled and Hermione’s heart melted.
“Hey, Oliver?” she began, but couldn’t continue when his hand came up and stroked her face. All thoughts of what she’d been going to say fled when he leaned in, and when he kissed her...her heart stopped.
“Were you going to say something?” Oliver inquired, his forehead against hers.
“Uh, yes I was. Now, if I can only recall it to mind...” Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully, making his head tilt with her and causing a grin to flash across her face. “Ah, yes. Harry and Ginny are going to be married soon, and “ ”
“You need help learning to fly a broom and since I have professional experience you thought you’d request my assistance, is that right?”
“Well, I gladly accept the help,” Hermione said, “but I was actually going to ask you if you would come with me. Ginny let slip that she hadn’t invited you yet and I thought I’d do her a favor and ask you to come.”
“As your date, right?”
“Yes. Although I admit to an ulterior motive. I’m not sure I’ll ever beat that broomstick into submission, so I need you there if I fall.”
“I’ll catch you.” Oliver cupped her face in his hands. “I promise I will always catch you.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said.
If I Fall by Cinderella Angelina
Chapter Notes: This story was written for Abigail. joy_belle423. For hprare_exchange. Yes.