The two of us, nothing in-between

And run away with me

Say goodbye to all the tears you’ve cried

And all the pain that you could never hide

And run away with me

I can make you believe it’s worth it

Don’t be afraid to be free

‘Cause no one’s perfect”

-BBMak, “Run Away”

It never occurred to Oliver to plan out the next few days of his life. He just lived in the moment. He let go of pretty much everything he was used to; everything he believed in (relationship wise) and just let things happen. Come what may, was his new attitude. He liked it like this; it made him feel really free and exceptionally alive. More alive, in fact, than he had in days. He felt happy; he felt like himself.

He felt like he was exactly where he should be, and he felt he was exactly who he was supposed to be. At last.

Oliver wasn’t used to just living on a whim. Normalcy to him was careful planning, sorting out and making magical diagrams of his everyday activities, but for his own sake (and Hermione’s) he put his magical diagram (a very well drawn Oliver waving happily) into the very back of Harry’s closet and instructed Harry, Ron and Draco to never let him use it…no matter how much persistence there was.

“I don’t care if I threaten to curse your entire family,” stated Oliver firmly.

“But, Oliver---” Ron was promptly cut off with a wave of Oliver’s large hand.

“Ron…I’m serious. I can’t be thinking about my future right now. It’s important I live in the RIGHT NOW.”

Harry shook his head, “Boy, am I glad I’m not whipped.”

Draco snorted behind his pale hand and gave Harry an appreciative nod.

Oliver’s brown eyes narrowed at Harry, “Hey.”

Harry shrugged innocently, “What? I like whip cream as much as the next wizard, but---”

“HARRY,” muttered Ron as loudly as he could possibly mutter without yelling.

Harry turned to face his freckled friend, “Yes, Ron?”

“Shut up before you get cursed,” warned Ron.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in appreciation of Ron’s words. “Thank you, Ron. Now, then, I must be off. I’m meeting Hermione for lunch.”

Draco put his hand in the air, having recovered from his snorting fit. When Oliver had ‘called upon him,’ he said, “May I just make a diminutive suggestion, Mr. Wood?”

Oliver rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway.

“Don’t let Hermione control your life. Even though it’s the easiest thing to just give in to her…you need to set boundaries, ground rules. That sort of thing. To keep your sanity…and Quidditch supplies in check later on down the road.”

Oliver nodded curtly, “Thank you, Malfoy…but I assure you, I have things under control.”

Harry made an odd sound under his breath, that remarkably sounded like a whip cracking through the air. Draco and Ron doubled over in fits of uncontrollable barks of laughter. Oliver rolled his eyes in a very Percy-like fashion before departing from the room. He muttered something about “amateurs and maturity levels” on his way out.

The three young wizards all high-fived one another once the coast was clear.

*

As Oliver ambled with long, quickened strides towards the café, he pondered his future. Even though he’d told himself not to…he obviously had not listened to himself.

He saw himself buying an engagement ring at Krystal Diamond’s (a brilliant, expensive jewelry store) and then taking Hermione on a very nice fly (on a well-equipped and top-of-the-line broomstick) to some romantic and secluded place where they’d have a quiet picnic filled with French bread, cheese and maybe some wine if he could wrangle some. Wizard drinking age had plummeted since the Renaissance era, but it was still high at twenty-five. Butterbeer was one thing, it hardly had any alcohol in it. When wizards drink, they DRINK. I’m talking bum on the street with a paper bag around a bottle of vodka. Only, it’s a wizard in his best tattered robes, begging for a pick-me-hiccup. Which is like a pick-me-up to regular people…except with more hiccups. When wizards get drunk they get really wand-happy and hiccupy.

Anyway. Then he’d get down on one knee and propose.

Yes, that did sound quite lovely.

If only there weren’t so many things in the way.

Like, that tree for instance.

Just as Oliver saw the tree, he hit it at full force. While planning his ideal proposal, he hadn’t been giving his full attention to the scene around him. He rubbed at his forehead angrily, he’d have a blasted bump there before long. His daydream had just gone down the emblematic tube because now he’d have a big egg on his forehead for the most romantic night of his life.

Of course, Oliver Wood got carried away with things without using much common sense. For, if he HAD used common sense, he would have realized he’s a wizard, with a wand, who could simply wave it, mutter an incantation and make the bump disappear in milliseconds.

He cursed himself and his unable-to-focus brain as the bell jangled above the café’s door. Oliver scanned the room and saw Angelie, Emerald, Katie, Tobes and Elijah all huddled into a magically expanded (probably by the protégé, Elijah) booth which sat beside the one Hermione was examining a menu in. Oliver smiled curtly at the group of five and slid in across from Hermione, his back to the nosy neighbors.

Hermione looked up from her menu, “Hey,” she smiled.

He smiled back at her and kissed her daintily on the cheek. The bell jingled, announcing the arrival of three ‘trying-to-be-inconspicuous’ wizards. Ron waved very obviously at Hermione before Harry pulled him into the others’ booth. Draco snickered and shook his head before setting a menu up in front of his face so that he wouldn’t distract Hermione’s attention. (She’d been waving to all of them, which was making Oliver look very cross.) Tobes grinned cheekily and followed suit, making sure that the rest of the table (save Ron) were all covered up by their huge menus.

Ron decided he’d watch the scene unfold in front of him. It was better than Muggle television for him, and that was really saying something.

“Hermione,” said Oliver, sounding forced, “Could we go somewhere a bit more private?”

“Don’t get fresh, Oliver!” Ron hollered, jokingly.

Oliver gave him a dirty look, “HONESTLY!”

“Dear Merlin,” complained Harry, “Please don’t turn into Percy!”

“I’ll have you know, Harry Potter, that Percy Weasley is well on his way to his perfect life! He’s got a family! More or less. And a really brilliant job! Give or take.”

“There seems to be some conviction missing in your statements, Wood,” said Draco helpfully.

Oliver stood up from the booth, “Er…you blasted wizards! How am I supposed to propose a romantic proposal in a romantic, secluded spot when you’re…” he suddenly realized what he was saying. “…Er…yeah. Hermione? Let’s blow this…pop music joint.”

“Popcicle,” Ron corrected. “Wrong muggle phrasing. Don’t worry, I’m often guilty of it myself.”

With a flick of his wand, Oliver pulled Hermione from the café. She waved to them joyfully as they went.

Draco, Harry and Ron were all wearing Muggle women’s clothes.

“AS IF!” Draco hollered, blowing the feather from his lovely hat out of his face. He looked like an old grandmotherly type who was on her way to church.

“Like, oh my God! How could he!” Ron yelled, pulling at the constricting dress he was wearing. “I look like that tart, Britney Spears!”

“Nah-uh, girlfriend. You look way hotter,” laughed Angelie.

Harry gaped at her, “No way! Britney’s, like, way hot! There’s no way RON could look hotter!”

“Um…lads?” Elijah said cautiously, “I think Oliver put an American version of the pop music spell on you.”

“What’s that?” Tobes asked.

“It’s, uh,” Elijah stifled a giggle, “It’s when the person who’s spelled becomes one of America’s biggest Pop Music icons. In this case…I’d guess they’re Mandy Moore, Jessica Simpson and Christian Aguilera…maybe.” Elijah shrugged, “I’d say Oliver’s not too up on American pop culture though, because I highly doubt any of them dress like old grannies.”

*

“Ron’s going to kill you,” giggled Hermione, holding Oliver tighter around the waist as they flew over Hogwarts Castle. “I really miss this place.”

“Me too,” Oliver agreed, then he stopped the broom suddenly, “I just got an idea.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, sounding interested. “Do tell.”

“I’ll drop you back at the dorm and then come pick you up on this thing later. We’ll make a night of it…it’ll be a surprise.”

Hermione smiled, “You are so amazingly wonderful, Oliver Wood.”

Oliver kissed her quickly and turned the broom around, heading back to Anilyn’s.

*

Hermione, hair done up to look like a movie star, wearing a long flowing sky blue sparkling dress, stepped in front of the girls’ large mirror later that night. The sky was just beginning to darken and Oliver would be there momentarily.

“Wow, Hermione, you look brilliant!” Emerald breathed, getting out of her seat to stand behind Hermione in the mirror.

“Thanks!” Hermione took a deep breath.

“You’ll be fine, Oliver is planning this huge night out…romantic, I’m sure it’ll be….relax.”

“I think he might propose,” replied Hermione, biting her bottom lip nervously. She glanced down at her dress. It was almost like she was wearing an afternoon sky. The dress was that clear a blue, complete with glittering little stars…almost like the sky as the sunsets.

Emerald squealed, “That’s stellar!”

“I know, but I’m so nervous, Em. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“I’ll be cliché and say: follow your heart, Herm. It’ll lead you where you need to be.”

Hermione turned around and hugged her friend, then she grabbed her purse. “Oh, by the way, did the boys ever get out of drag?”

Emerald giggled as she made her way back to the couch to study, “Yeah. Elijah performed the counter-curse…but it backfired and turned them into America’s Pop Icons…Male. Ron’s running around acting like he’s Justin Timberlake. Draco is some sort of Nick Carter wanna-be and Harry is, I think, some bloke by the name of Brandon Boyd. He looks really good, Herm. He’s walking around with a button up shirt, unbuttoned and these, like, really baggy blue jeans.”

“You just said, ‘like’, Em.” Hermione laughed, “Don’t get too crazy, now.” She gave her friend a wide smile before leaving the room in search of her…excuse the overused expression…Prince Charming.

“Yo! Herm!” Ron said running towards her from down the hall, “What up, G? I’m gonna get this crunk! Have a good time with your man…don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Wait! I’d do everything…I’m a man whore of the finest shiat, baby. Go get it on!” He winked at her before running off again.

Hermione watched him until she regained her brain and went downstairs. She had never seen Ron acting so…liberal…before.

*

Oliver, wearing a Muggle tuxedo, picked Hermione up on his state-of-the-art broom and whisked her away, up into the night sky. It would be a night to remember.

He slowed down when they were nearing Hogwarts.

“What are you doing?” Hermione wondered, watching as Hagrid’s cabin came into view. She started tearing up at the sight of it…where she’d had so many good times over the past years.

“You’ll see,” replied Oliver ominously. He pulled the broom down and it slowly descended to the ground.

Blindfolds weren’t one of Hermione’ favorite things, but she let Oliver put one on her anyway. He helped her off the broom and then led her into the castle.

Hermione became anxious, “Is this okay to be doing? I mean, we’re no longer students.”

“Loosen up, Hermione,” Oliver grinned. Before she knew it, he was saying, “Here we are” and untying her blindfold.

She looked around and gasped. They were in his old office.

“Oh my,” she whispered, “Uh…I don’t know what to say? What a lovely surprise?”

Oliver chuckled, “It took quite a lot of doing to get in here tonight. I’m telling you, it’s like getting into a bar if you’re underage…” He knew he’d have to explain further than that in order for her to not be so perplexed, “A new professor has this office now…I needed to barter with her in order to rent the room for a couple hours.”

“Okay,” she replied slowly, “but why this room?”

He stepped closer to her and brought her closer to him, “This is where we had our first kiss.”

Hermione grinned, “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Of course I would,” he said, sounding slightly affronted at this indirect accusation.

She hit him playfully on the arm and kissed him deeply on the lips. When she pulled away she saw that he’d been playing with his wand behind his back. (Not metaphoric wand, thank you very much)

The room was now decorated so it looked like they were outside under a large willow tree. Hopefully, one that doesn’t whomp. There was a carefully laid out picnic on a starry picnic blanket.

Hermione felt that, here and now, this was heaven.

“Hermione,” Oliver said, his voice quiet and sincere. “Hermione. Will you marry me?”

»chapter 17 - the end