Disclaimer: The plot, and the characters that you might not recognize belong to me. The rest, however, belong to J.K.R.
Chapter 10 – How could you?
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The Grangers and the Woods were all seated at the table, famished. Jasmine began serving the food—French onion soup, potato salad, and roast beef. The Wood boys looked ready to attack the beef. Oak was bouncing up and down on his seat. "Let's say grace so we can eat!" Oliver smacked his little brother. "Patience, Oak." But Oliver himself was just a hungry as Oak.
"Alright. Hermione, will you lead us, please?" Jasmine asked. Hermione nodded and they all said grace. Geoffrey clapped his hands together and rubbed them, eyeing the food eagerly. "Let's dig in!"
With that said, the boys began piling food onto their plates as if their lives depended on it. Well…technically their lives did depend on food. Hermione watched, perplexed, as Oliver and Oak wolfed down their food. It was amazing. Their spoons were going in and out of their mouths a hundred per minute, so to speak.
It wasn't only Hermione who noticed the boys' ravenous behavior. Luella clucked her tongue and lightly whacked Oliver's arm. "Slowly but surely, dear. You don't want to choke, now, do you?" Oliver suddenly stopped. His eyes were fixed on his mother's hand…on her third finger. A sparkling engagement ring was sitting on it, glistening. It wasn't there before and Oliver didn't remember seeing it before.
"Mother, what's that?"
Luella raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side. "What's what, dear?"
"That." Oliver pointed at the ring with his spoon. It's contents spilled back onto his plate. Luella looked down at her hand and gasped. "Oh. This." Then she cast an inquiring look at Geoffrey. He nodded and smiled.
"Mother…?"
"Children, Mother, I have an announcement to make." Geoffrey said, standing. Luella stood up as well. "We—we're engaged and—"
"WHAT!" Hermione blurted out. At the same time, Oliver practically choked on food. Oak's spoon fell from his hand and onto the floor. Luella bit her lip. "W-well…aren't you happy?"
"HAPPY!" Hermione shrieked. Geoffrey paled. "Yes—" Oliver's choking cut him off. "E-engaged…who?…you and…mother?" This was not going well. Not in the least. Geoffrey nodded, though he looked a bit nauseas. "Yes. Won't that be great?"
"Great?" Hermione asked, incredulously. She shot a look at Oliver. He looked like he was constipated. Hermione wasn't aware that Jasmine had put her arm around her with what seemed like a look of pity. "Hermione, dear, won't you settle down? This is wonderful news!" But Jasmine herself, didn't sound as tickled pink as she had hoped. In fact, Jasmine was seething. How dare Geoffrey not discuss this with Hermione? It was bad enough that the man was lovesick, but goodness! Marriage already! Jasmine wasn't sure if Geoffrey was still hurt over the separation, and was using this as a diversion. She knew Geoffrey would forget. She knew he wouldn't talk to Hermione until after he'd announce it. Jasmine felt so infuriated that for a moment, the pleasant expression she had put on turned harsh.
"Yes, well, we're not going to get married at once, you see," Geoffrey was babbling. But all Hermione could hear was her own blood pounding in her ears. She was, by now, visibly shaking. "And we thought we'd move in together…everyone, of course. To, you know, get a feel of being one big happy family."
"Move in? Together!" Oliver gasped. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Oh bloody no. Oak's eyebrows virtually disappeared under his hairline, his mouth agape. He hadn't said a word since Luella had announced their engagement. He was either too shocked, or dead on the spot. It was hard to tell, really.
"Yes, Oliver, t-to get a feel of it…" Geoffrey was sweating now. Luella squeezed his hand. "You should be happy, Oliver. You yourself told me it was time to move on—"
"I most certainly was not the one who told you that—"
"—and I followed your advice. I've found myself a good man—"
"I did not suggest it was time for you to move on, mother! You must have me confused with someone else—"
"—And I'm so glad that you approve of my engagement to Geoffrey."
"I do n—" Oliver stopped. Everyone was staring at him: Geoffrey with large, hopeful eyes, his mother with a venomous glare, Hermione with a chalk-white face, Oak still with his mouth agape, and Jasmine, tight-lipped. If Oliver said that he immensely disliked his mother being engaged to his almost-girlfriend's father, it would earn him a permanent cell in Azkaban, courtesy of Luella. Yet, Oliver wanted so much to scream exactly that. He wanted to tell her what a horrible idea it was. He wanted to tell her of Hermione and their relationship. He wanted, yes, but he couldn't. Oliver frowned. He was being too self-centered. His mother deserved as much happiness as he did, and if that happiness came from Geoffrey, so be it.
"I—I do not want you to think that I don't approve," Oliver said, without much enthusiasm. "Congratulations, mother. Congratulations, Geoffrey." Luella smiled and went over to hug her son. Geoffrey grabbed a tissue and wiped the beads of sweat off of his forehead. Oak, Hermione and Jasmine's expressions were indecipherable. Oliver hugged his mother back in resignation. "It means so much to me that you support this, Ollie." Luella said. Oliver gave her a weak smile.
Geoffrey and Luella had seated Hermione, Oliver, Oak and Jasmine down on the couch. "As I have said earlier, we've planned to move in together. We thought about where, and we've decided upon…the wood house." Geoffrey explained. Oliver shot a look at his mother. She avoided his gaze. "It's…it's big enough for all of us. We considered living here, but this place isn't big enough to house six people. It only has three rooms, and we can't very well have…" Geoffrey looked a little uncomfortable. "…boys staying in a girl's room." At this, Hermione turned a little red, but Oliver didn't know if it was because she was embarrassed at the thought, or furious with her father up till now.
"So you've decided to move us into the Wood house?" Hermione said, her tone icy. She knew she shouldn't be so nasty, but she couldn't help it. She was too upset to care. Her father nodded. "That is, if the boys don't mind." He gave Oak and Oliver a smile. Oliver had to will himself to smile extra hard. Oak just blinked. "I'm sure they'd love it, won't you, boys?" Luella asked, something in her tone of voice suggesting threat. Oak suddenly brightened up. "Of course, mister Ginger. You're all welcome to stay at our place!" Luella beamed at him. Oak smiled back, totally ignoring the daggers Oliver was staring at him with. Luella clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, I'm so thrilled! Hermione, you're going to be the daughter I never had!" As Luella suffocated Hermione in an exaggerated bear hug, Oliver felt a lump on his throat. Hermione's going to be my sister!
When Oliver, Oak and Luella had left, Hermione instantly let out a long, loud shriek. Jasmine pursed her lips, knowing what was to come. Seeing her granddaughter's fuming face, Jasmine decided that perhaps she did have some feeling left for Geoffrey after all…pity.
"W-well, we'll all be moving in next week. I'm still looking for a buyer for this house but…" Geoffrey never got to finish.
"How could you!" Hermione hissed. Geoffrey gave her a wounded look, but Hermione was too enraged to notice it. "You never mentioned it to me!" Jasmine went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of champagne. This was going to be one heck of a show.
Geoffrey tried to look nonchalant, but to no avail. "Hermione, I am a grown man and I can make my own decisions." His daughter's expression only turned nastier. "I'm well aware of that, but we always talk about everything. Tell me…why couldn't you talk to me about this?"
"I—"
"Didn't you consider my feelings at all? Didn't you think I'd probably have something to say about it? Were you too obsessed with Luella and you're engagement—" Hermione practically spat the word 'engagement' out, as if it left a horrid taste in her mouth.
"Hermione Granger, how dare you be so disrespectful! I am your father!"
"And I'm your daughter! How dare you disregard my opinion! How dare you disrespect my thoughts on this! I cannot believe that you went on and got engaged without my consent—"
"I don't need your consent! I am an adult!"
Silence.
Jasmine sipped her drink. Geoffrey shouldn't have said what he just said. Hermione considered herself to be very important in Geoffrey's life. And through the years, Geoffrey had made her feel as significant. But to suddenly say that he didn't need her consent, or that he didn't think her views important, especially on something this big…Jasmine shook her head. He was an idiot, to put it simply. Finally, Hermione spoke.
"Well," she said, her voice deathly low. "Now I know where I stand." Geoffrey was at a loss. His daughter…his only daughter…she'd been there for him when he was in his worst state. She had stood by him, supported him. And now he had said—no, implied that she wasn't important at all in his life. He, too, knew he was an idiot.
"Hermione, I'm so very sorry. That didn't come our right…" Hermione just turned her back, and walked calmly out on him. Without a single glance back.
Wood residence
Oliver was too shocked, too angry, to talk to his mother, or look at her at all. Sure, he wanted her to be happy but good wizards! Marriage! It was unthinkable! What's more, Oak seemed to be supporting it, and that only drew Oliver nearer to the edge.
Once at home, Oliver headed straight for his room and locked it, not caring if Oak slept in the living room that night. His mother had tried several times to talk to him, but he had either turned up the stereo or completely ignored her.
He lay on his bed, music blaring from the stereo. It was country, his most hated genre of music, but he didn't care. He stared at the ceiling, thinking of ways to make his mother miserable. And then he caught himself. He cursed out loud (Luella had heard and banged on the door) for thinking such things, for being so selfish. His father had always said that gentlemen did not think maliciously towards woman. Especially one's own mother. Oliver felt ashamed. His father always said he was a perfect little gentleman, and everyone else seemed to think so. Well technically, he was.
Always doing the right thing, rescuing "damsels in distress", always so polished and courteous, respectful, earnest, noble…the list could go on and on. Oliver, for the first time, wished that he wasn't such a gentleman. He wished he could be more like that dope Malfoy, or maybe even Marcus Flint, that sorry excuse for a quidditch captain.
A knock. Oliver reached out and turned up the volume. Another knock. Then another. Oliver grit his teeth in annoyance. He willed himself not to open the door, but his accursed gentlemanly instincts were overpowering him. Reluctantly (and resentfully), he got up and opened the door. Luella stood before him, an imperious air about her. Oliver hated it when she got like this. "What?" he snapped. His mother strode into his room and shut off the stereo. "I was listening to that," he grumbled. Luella let out a high-pitched "Hah!". "You despise country music." Oliver cursed under his breath.
"Oliver, we are going to have a discussion," Luella began. Oliver rolled his eyes childishly. "Oh, whoopee. What did I do to deserve such a treat?" But Luella didn't find it amusing at all. "Don't you get cheeky with me," she warned. "You're seventeen, not a child."
At that moment, Oak came into the room. Oliver groaned loudly and exaggeratedly. Oak ignored him and sat on his bed. "What did you want to talk about, mommy?" he asked. Luella straightened her dress and sat down beside Oak, expecting Oliver to follow suit. Oliver crossed his arms over her chest. He wasn't three anymore, and he wasn't going to have a discussion seated on his mother's side like he used to when he was a kid. He was an adult—almost an adult—and he demanded to be treated like one.
"Sit." Luella barked. Oliver remained standing. "Suits me fine, then. It's going to be a long discussion, and it's up to you if you want to be uncomfortable." Oliver didn't reply.
"Now boys," Luella began, in a softer tone. " I understand that you are surprised at this sudden engagement, but please understand that I love Geoffrey. He's such a wonderful man, and I couldn't refuse him if I tried." Oak simply nodded. Oliver snorted. "I've already accepted his proposal and you can't do anything about it any longer. Also, the Grangers are going to be moving in next week. I want you to show proper respect, and cooperate." She stared directly at Oliver. He glared back.
"The Gingers are coming to live with us, mommy?" Oak asked. Luella nodded. "It'll be good for all of us. I've often felt that this house was too big for only the three of us, and it will be splendid to have more company. Now," Luella pursed her lips. "Any questions? Suggestions? Violent reactions?"
"I'm sorry to cut this family meeting short, but I feel that my views will be disregarded even if I do voice them out. I'm sure Oak has some questions or whatever. You can talk to him." Oliver said. Luella's jaw dropped. "Never have you been so rude!"
"Never have you been so foolish."
"Foolish?"
"Goodbye mother. I'm going to take a walk. Don't bother to wait up, I'll be out late." And with that, Oliver turned on his heel and left.
When Oliver was still a boy, he'd often go for walks to look at the stars. It sounded gay, he knew, but he did it anyway. It helped him organize his thoughts, clear his head and rid himself of any insecurity he might have. That was more than six years ago, and Oliver still took walks from time to time for more or less the same reasons.
But tonight, tonight was a different story. Oliver wasn't walking to think, or to clear his head. He was walking because he just wanted to get out. And he was seething. Seething like one of Snape's potions gone wrong.
He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and let out a heavy sigh. "I know where to go," he muttered. With a faint pop, Oliver had apparated out of sight.
Fred Weasely was seated in a large, comfortable, velvety chair in front of a crackling fire. It was quite nice, for once, to be alone with his thoughts. The whole house was, thankfully, asleep and George was out on a blind date. Fred let out a soft chuckle at this last thought. George would be receiving a big surprise; Lee and Fred had set him up with Millicent Bulstrode as a joke. "Ah well," Fred chortled. He'd be receiving an earful the next morning.
As Fred reached for his white wine (yes, Fred drank white wine), he heard a soft pop from behind his chair. Fred's fingers wrapped around the glass. He took a sip.
"Care for a drink, Oliver?" he said calmly. He heard a snort. "I've butterbeer if you don't like white wine."
"The day you drink white wine for leisure is the day George professes his love for a slytherin." Oliver replied. Fred, who was still gazing at the fire, gestured at an empty chair beside him, and raised his glass. Oliver's eyes widened.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Oliver?"
"Cut the crap, Fred."
"Hermione?"
"How did you know?"
"It's evident."
"I won't ask you how it is."
"Fair enough."
Fred took another sip. Oliver snorted again. "So. What's new?" Fred asked, handing Oliver a butterbeer. "I'll go straight to the point." Fred nodded. "You do that."
Oliver drained his butterbeer in one gulp. "Hermione's going to be my sister."
Fred took another sip of his wine and set the glass down, gently. "Well that's certainly news. You'll have a brilliant witch for a—" Fred's eyes widened. "A sister!"
Oliver rolled his eyes. Fred's cool composure had vanished. He was staring at Oliver, his mouth opening and closing. "What—why—how—when—who—Hermione—you—"
"My mother's marrying her dad."
"WHAT!"
"Yeah. And get this, they're moving into my place."
"WHY?"
"To get a feel of being a family."
"Crap!"
Oliver sighed. "Funny, how these things end up. So I guess all hope of ever having a romantic relationship with Hermione is gone." Oliver looked at Fred, who now looked determined.
"Don't be nutty, man! Of course you can have a romantic relationship if you wanted!" Oliver grunted in reply. Fred nodded vigorously. "I'm serious! It's not like you're blood related—"
"That's incestuous, nevertheless. It doesn't matter if we aren't related through blood. The fact that her father is marrying my mother—"
"Doesn't matter."
Oliver stared hard at Fred. He was being stupid. "Again, Fred, I repeat. The fact that our parents are marrying each other makes us related and you most certainly cannot—it's dishonorable—to have a romantic relationship with someone to whom you are related to!" But Fred shook his head stubbornly, and this irritated Oliver further.
"You, man, are giving up. There's always another way—"
"There is no other alternative! She's going to be my sister and that is that!"
Oliver had slammed his empty bottle of butterbeer on a nearby table making Fred jump. Oliver groaned and buried his face in his hands. "This sucks as much as having to lose to hufflepuff…"
Fred cleared his throat. Oliver looked up. "Have you ever considered that there might not be a wedding?" Oliver frowned. "What do you mean? Of course there'll be a wedding…"
"Unless…"
"Unless what, Fred?"
"Unless you do something about it."
Oliver looked shocked for a moment. "Fred! I could never do that! My mother would have my head…! Why, she'd—" But Fred clucked his tongue and wagged a finger at Oliver. "Never said you were going to do something about it." Oliver frowned. "What? You just told me 'unless you do something about it'—"
"Tcha! People make mistakes!" But Fred had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Oliver shook his head firmly. "No. You are not going to sabotage my mother's happiest moment."
Fred gave a long laugh and poured himself another glass of white wine. "Oh Oliver, chum. All's well that ends well! You never know what sort of…interferences…might occur."
Oliver decided that Fred was doing anything but helping him. He stood up, as did Fred. "Thanks for…the butterbeer and the—if not helpful—sort of comforting words." The two gentlemen shook hands, and Oliver departed feeling more at loss than ever.
YAY! I'm back! I'm sorry for the long wait! School's been eating up all of my free time. But anyway, I know this was a suck-y ending to this chapter so I'm going to make it up by giving you all loads of Oliver and Hermione action in the next chapter. Whee!
Oh yeah! So I've read the sixth book and stuff…I know this fic is SO out of the whole thing but yeah, I'm continuing it anyway! Thanks to all my pretty reviewers! I'm sorry for the long wait, hope you haven't given up on me!