My Thoughts, when I deign to share them..

WTF for real

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 03:32:59 GMT

hey folks. Guess where I am?

Heh. Yup, kicking it, Desert style. Cant go into great detail, but will say that things are busy and will continue to be so for awhile. Oh boy, when I get a chance to breathe...I will probably pass out. lol

So, thanx for the patience, or the non-pester that has been happenin. Yall rock and I am dying to check up on my flist. Oy, you all have been so busy. Thank you Thank you.

Latah folks.

Peace out,

M

Thu, 31 May 2007 05:59:56 GMT

Yup. that is my feelings. Apparently all is goin to **** and why not give you a convienent travel method?

So...locked up here. If you are my pal, thx. I appreciate it. At least I get to hear from you. If not, well send me a comment, if you care to. I am not really that exciting and dont post anything much but comments. I have serious issues with FoS and like to exert my constitutional rights. Sue. Me.

Really. Do it. Pfft. I got like 20 cents folks.

Hey...I am part of the crowd. YAY! I finally belong! hehehe*snort*

Ta ppl and love to our forefathers. They at least understood true persecution and why my thoughts are MINE. Not yours. Not thiers. MINE.

GRASPING HAIR TRYING TO MAKE IT STOP

Fri, 04 May 2007 19:28:27 GMT

Perhaps I have too much time on my hands. Perhaps I dont have enough and I am distracting myself so I dont lose my ever-loving mind. For whatever reasons, I have been ruminating on two different subjects that are poking me with their logic, but not coming up with any answers. So I shall post it to those that may know.

First one: HP fan folk.

Why is it such a big deal to learn wandless magic? Is this canon? Because of a visual in the third movie, I am having a wee bit of trouble. Now, in the scene where Harry first comes to the Leaky Cauldron after leaving the Dursley's, it shows the barkeep/owner/busboy cleaning off the table, and 'waving his hand' to lift the chairs to the table for the night. Is this wandless magic? If so, because he is in a BAR, *and yes, it may be a bit judgemental on my part, but just go with it please*, I am thinking he is not supremely educated, or such. Not in a ministry position or a position of power, unless guarding the route to Diagon Alley is his position. *See where I tear myself up on this?* There are so many possibilities, but I am just stuck on the idea that if a barkeep, etc can learn it, it probably isnt all that difficult. This is a cyclical argument/thought process. Any insight would be grand.

Second one: XMEN folk.

Checking out the movies lately, and reading some serious Wolverine/Rogue fanfic, I find myself wondering: I know he has healing factor and all, but why doesnt it rip his veins everytime he pops the gear? Looking at my own hands, I see two major vessels over the middle knuckle area. Those would spout some serious blood. Just one of the little oddities I noticed. If you have a thought on it, other than healing factor or his own genetic structure compensating at birth/puberty/whateva, let me know. It has been kickin in my head for like 3 weeks now and the natives are getting restless! lol

Thank you all for reading or commenting. It is truly just my mind wandering a bit, but I encourage others' thoughts on this. Free fer all!!!

TA folks

Mmmmmkay

Mon, 23 Apr 2007 04:02:51 GMT

HP COMMENT

Now, I know the books say it is 'one big happy Weasley family', but after seeing the new International trailer...uhhh..I gotta say. Looking pretty much like a H/Hr show. Girlfriend dont just throw herself at anyone.

Yup. Personally, I like it. I get a kick outta fanfics that play up the whole "Ginny? Dude, she looks like YOUR MOM! Cmon...." But I have read some great ones that pair Ginny with Harry, so guess it is in the eye of the beholder.

I would like to see H/Hr. But, JK has it in her head that Ron is the one for Hermione. Uh...yeah. So consider me sold. From the second movie/book on. Hugs mean something. Handshakes dont.

JMHO

TA yall.

Sun, 15 Apr 2007 14:09:56 GMT

Random Silliness! Google cracks me up!

Want to see something funny?

Go to the Google Map Page.

Type in: "New York, New York to Paris, France"

After you get your directions, scroll down to Number 23.

Read what it says.

I really was laughing hard on that. Hubby showed it to me. Just one of those funnies to keep ya guessing...

Have a great Sunday!

TA

M

Fri, 13 Apr 2007 22:04:01 GMT

I have been stricken. Infected. Devoured completely and utterly.

I have a new fandom.

Yes, I have been sucked into the world of Wolverine and Rogue. Logan and Marie. Xmen 1, 2, and 3 have been purchased and I am corrupting others with my fascination. My mother and I sat down and had a Logan drool fest the other nite before she left for Alaska.

I blame no one but myself for this, and maybe, my hubby. For his not being here to satisfy the need for romance in my life. lol

Oh, and I blame Minisinoo. I luv ya doll but ya got me looking at one Xman, Scott *A Room With A Computer* and now I just am a shell of former HP hype and now want to watch grownups struggle with UST and RST. lol

I am still fixated on the world of HP, but it has shifted. Did you all know YouTube has HUGE amts of vids for Rogue and Wolverine? You DID? Pfft...no one told me. ;> Ah well. Now that I know...hehehehe.

So far I havent found some of the debauchery that resides in some HP stories, ie: anything with Snape pretty much (lol), but magic sure does allow for a lot.

Of course I am sticking pretty much to the one pairing. Gotta luv a wild Australian with animal characteristics....no, really. YOU DO. I insist.

LOL

Okay..so there in lies the explanation why I have been absent from some boards and stories lately. I still get my flist stuff, but have kinda slacked off on the story finding mission I was on. Did you know I was on one? Heh. Neither did I.

Take care FLIST. Y'all can respond or not, makes no diffie. Gonna soak up some more ROGAN goodness/badness and dream of...well. Whateva. hehehe.

Lots of luv and admiration for y'all.

TA

GAKKED from BUNNEY!

Fri, 30 Mar 2007 04:11:32 GMT

One Word Meme gakked from </a></b>bunney

One Word Meme

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.

Not as easy as you might think.

1. Where is your cell phone? charger

2. Describe your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/lover? supportive

3. Your hair? curly

4. Your mother? amazing

5. Your father? huh?

6. Your favourite item? computer

7. Your dream last night? steamy

8. Your favourite drink? coffee

9. Your dream car? Camaro

10. The room you are in? messy

11. Your ex? pick

12. Your fear? failure

13. What do you want to be in 10 years? retired

14. Who did you hang out with last night? Rogan

15. What you're not? happy

19. The last thing you did? burped

20. What are you wearing? shorts

21. Your favourite book? Thornbirds

22. The last thing you ate? gum

23. Your life? easy

24. Your mood? bummed

25. Your friends? distant

26. What are you thinking about right now? sex

27. Your car? RAM

28. What are you doing at the moment? typing

29. Your summer? future

30. Your relationship status? married

31. What is on your tv? dust

32. When is the last time you laughed? today

33. Last time you cried? today

34. School? wishing

Copy.
Paste.
Answer.
Questions.
In.
One.
Word.

RANT OF DESPAIR You have been warned...

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 22:26:36 GMT

I despair for the sport of racing.

Last Sunday's race was everything fascinating and thrilling and great, that this sport can be. Equipment is at the pinnacle of technology for the advances made and the safety of the drivers is more assured than ever before in history. Parity is fine-tuned to the point that it is driver/crew chief/pit team dynamics that will win a race. Or just a NASCAR official ignoring their own damn rules.

I was very very very very upset by this development and have had a cpl days to look into my own mind, because while I am a passionate supporter of certain drivers, I want to be sure that my motivations are true. Yes I am devastated that Tony S. didnt win, and in fact, got TAKEN out. KB was appropriately sorrowful for removing a fellow racer and Tony was fudging until he seen the video to really be aware what happened. Or, he got waylaid by his PR ppl and they calmed him down. Gonna turn him into the poster boy for NICE if they dont quit. He is the next Dale. And I am not the only one who thinks so. Even if I was tho, wouldnt matter. Tony is all kinds of awesome.

And then the ending? NASCAR has just, on international tv, in front of MILLIONS of people, shown that they are biased and have no continuity in their rules. I was appalled that they didnt throw the yellow. Maybe more upset than if my guy had lost on that same technicality, but still. If the roles were reversed, with Mark winning by inches and losing because of the yellow. ANY OTHER TIME....ANY OTHER RACE...EVEN THIS ONE A YR OR TWO AGO...Crash=yellow=frozen field. That is the rule, has been the rule, and should still be the rule.

But, THEY decided to let it continue. M'kay. So, the rule is not applicable, at that point in time. I wonder if this is something like Prima Notte. Ya know? When the magistrate in MEDIEVAL ENGLAND would sleep with the bride on the wedding night. Just because he could. So, NASCAR decides to ignore a rule, because they can. Hmmm. Lovely.

And now I am done, because I have exhausted all my witty repartay, and lost my fervor. Being passionate is exhausting.

TA

Fri, 09 Feb 2007 18:12:14 GMT

Happy Birthday Inell!

Hope you have lots of scrumptious plot bunnies and delicious muses to herald in your day!

And here's to hoping you feel better too!

TA

Wisdom from the teenage crowd

Sat, 03 Feb 2007 15:27:33 GMT

Was checking out the newswire on HPANA. The link to the interview with our dear Dan.

My sixteen yr old daughter walks in and says, "WHOA! Are those the pictures you were talking about?" -referring to the promo shots of Dan and the horse, etc.

Daughter: Wow! He does NOT look 17...

Me: I know. I was freakin on his facial hair...*snicker*

Daughter: Check out those veins on his arm!!!

Me: Yup, your dad has those too. Prob from working out and such..

-Click to another pic-

Me: Just seems a bit furry for a teenager...

Daughter: Wonder if his back is hairy too? *makes ewww face* EWWWWWW!

Me: OMG! *snorts through nose, and thankful I am not drinking coffee at the moment* I cannot believe you said that!

Daughter: What?

Me: Ya gotta figure, with his chest so furry, his back probably would be too. What a way to keep things in perspective! *laughs very enthusiastically*

Daughter: Meh. He is cute tho...rather handsome really.

~END

Turns out mom is more of a freak on the pics than the kid. HA. This is so tragic. But, kinda gives me a warm feeling too. Glad to see my kid NOT get all caught up. She actually thought it would be neat to go see, and then I explained the story somewhat and she was like...uh, maybe not. LOL

Good to know. One deviant in the family is enough. *snort*

TA

Fri, 02 Feb 2007 16:28:27 GMT

Gakked from <lj user>serade black

† - List your top 10 celebrity crushes.
† - Put all of them in order of your lust for them.
† - Say which movie/show/thing it was that hooked you.
† - Supply photos for said people.
† - Tag five people!

And I follow in her footsteps, no tagging!
But really, I cannot in good faith list them in order of lust. It just varies from day to day.
So without further ado...

Harrison Ford
Blame it on Indy folks! "Raiders of the Lost Ark" was the movie that won my heart for this gentleman. And every other movie I can find him in! I think the only one I DONT own and am not really crazy about is "American Graffitti". Other than that...it is sigh time every time. Yum!

Brad Pitt
The movie "Seven" really cinched this one. I liked him scruffy, but in a suit. It was just so...hot. And he carries a weapon holster! :D
I like some of his older stuff, some of his newer, but this movie...was sick. And he was just MAHVELOUS in it!

RUSSELL CROWE
In reality, "LA Confidential" (ignore the blonde) started my path of lurve for the Down Under boys, but truthfully, "Gladiator" cemented his superiority in the thigh area. Yeah, he is an okay actor. I like most of what I have seen. But, oh, to live in Rome...

And just because I love Maximus sooo much...

HUGH JACKMAN
Continuation of the Down Under crew, he stoked a ember as Wolverine, but fanned it to a hot burning lust in "Someone Like You". The shorts. It was all about the shorts...

And now to my next favorite country...or perhaps it should be my first, seeing as I have more of them...hmmm. Okay...SCOTLAND!

SEAN BIGGERSTAFF
He was too cute in SS and CoS. Shame really, that they wouldnt put him in the third one, considering they WON THE BLOODY CUP! Ugh. Yes, sore spot. But, doesnt stop my heart goin pitter pat for Mr. Wood. I do like him in his other venues, especially his band, "Jonny and the Robots". Here, just drool accordingly...;)

And another Sean...
SEAN CONNERY
Yup, he is a wee bit older, but in reality, he is just so dang cool. This was the one that got me in a bit of a sigh, isnt he just delightful, state of mind. I am seeing a pattern here...most of them have accents...hmmm.

And for our last Scottish contestant...
EWAN MCGREGOR
He is amazing in "Moulin Rouge" (dang can he sing) and was a total dream in "The Island", but he really caught my eye in, (with a slight cringe) "Star Wars: The Phantom Menace". Short hair...I have such a thing for SHORT HAIR!

And finally...I dont have 10, I have 8. Most of the rest...meh. It comes and it goes. But, this last one. I have actually met him, and he is completely and totally fan friendly. He gave an autograph, put up with drunk admirers muttering obscene suggestions...it was a very enjoyable evening. And, no I was NOT one of the drunk admirers. I was sober, Thank you very much. No naughty words passed my lips...crossed my mind...whole other kettle of fish...(SMIRK)

I fell for this one, oh about 10 or 11 yrs ago. He started to catch my eye in Indy racing, and kept it on through two championships and multiple wins and media coverage. Yes he can be a bit of a bad boy, but oh, he is so delightful while he does it. :D yes I am a goner here folks.

TONY STEWART
Dont know if any of you are NASCAR fans at all, but he is my guy. My son and daughter like him too. The hubster, he is a Mark Martin fan and my oldest, well, she has no taste at all. She likes Jeff Gordon and Jimmy Johnson. Ugh. How could I raise such a child? (JK-both are very talented...and that is the most you will ever get outta me in a way of a compliment!)

So...there it is. I am sure I could come up with a few more( David Thewlis comes to mind), but honestly...this took a lot longer than I thought it would and I am really behind on other stuff now. lol Time management Girl. Learn it. ;)

TA to y'all.

So, the kids are growing up...

Tue, 30 Jan 2007 18:50:28 GMT

Guess I have to remind myself that Europe is much different than the US.

Honestly, when I first seen that pic...all I could think was...what is he doing with FACIAL HAIR? LOL

But, life rolls on.

Art does not imitate life, in this case.

Just MHO.

TA

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 06:10:46 GMT

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday JMH, Happy Birthday to MEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yuppers! THE BIG 3-6 here folks! I feel....like I am not in my mid-thirties. *snort*

My mom told me that is common. Seems odd. What is the point of aging, if we all feel like we are still in our early 20s?

Deep stuff there, Maynard.

*ponders oddities of the universe*

That was a short trip! LOL

Take care all and Happy New Year to all!

LOOKING FOR A FIC...

Fri, 29 Dec 2006 17:28:01 GMT

I posted this a while ago on dracoXhermione, but no one knew or answered. Perhaps someone else could give me a heads-up!

It is Seventh Year at Hogwarts...sorta. The summer happened, and the kiddies are back on the train to school. Hermione is riding in the Heads compartment with Draco, who has this whole 'mob boss' type thing going on. Goyle is there, I dont think Crabbe is in on it. Hermione is preggers, and Draco is taking care of her. I do believe it is a WIP, but I cant remember the name of it. I seem to remember the scenery very well. lol Goyle lifting her trunk for her. Ginny interested in Goyle and vice-versa. Malfoy being civil, and Hermione being in shock.

Any help is appreciated.

Thanx to anyone and HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Mon, 25 Dec 2006 14:33:22 GMT

Merry Christmas to all!

Hope you have a safe, warm, loving family Christmas.
For those not able to be with loved ones, a big virtual hug goes to you all!

Traveling to the in-laws for the AM bonanza. Kids ought to have a blast.
Me, I just be happy to have adults to talk to!

Happy Holidays to all, and A SMASHING NEW YEAR TOO!

TA

Mikki

Tue, 17 Oct 2006 01:00:14 GMT

What the ???

Is anyone else having issues with viewage on their ELJAY?

Mine wants to show up like 1980s Internet BBS....this is messed up!

He is a keeper, after all - CH 5

Mon, 09 Oct 2006 04:52:23 GMT

Title: He is a keeper, after all
Rating: PG, now - R, later
Pairing: HG/OW
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.
Author Note: First story here, written almost 8 months ago. Been stalled for a few, hope to get back on track soon. Plenty where this comes from tho. *smirk*

‘He is talking,’ Hermione told herself. ‘Answer him you dolt!’

“Uh, I am Miss Hermione Granger.”

Oliver blinked several times. ‘Well this just beats all,’ he said laughingly in his head. “Pleasure to meet you, uh, again, Miss Granger.” He replied.

“Again?” she asked.

“Yes. I am not sure if you recall, but we went to school together at Hogwarts for a few years.”

Hermione looked at him again and tried to place his face. Strong features jumped out at her, as well as the broad shoulders. ‘Yes dear, he has broad shoulders’ her mind teased. He stood up and as she looked up at him from her diminutive 5’7” inches, her eyes widened again considerably. She swallowed with a little difficulty.

“Oliver? Is that really you?” she asked quietly.

Her voice was slight and musical now, the raspy quality almost gone.

“In the flesh.” He replied.

A becoming blush came into her cheeks and she blinked again. The dust from the shelves was lightly coating her hair, so he wasn’t sure exactly what color it was anymore, except for the warm darkness at the base of her neck. Her lavender sweater was absent any dust, and clung to her like a second skin. Her neck was slightly damp from working near the warm air at the ceiling and it glistened invitingly. Her small frame was encased in long, smooth black slacks that left everything to the imagination and boy, did he have a good imagination.

“Ahem, well, this is a pleasant surprise. How are you?” she asked, sinking into her chair.

He waited until she was seated before he sat back down.

“Quite well, thank you. And yourself?

“Um, well, fine I guess. I never expected that my appointment would be an old classmate of mine.” She stated.

“Neither did I.” Oliver said, shuffling a bit in his seat. “How long have you worked here?” he asked.

“A little over a year. I traveled abroad quite a bit after, ahem, afterwards, and completed my studies there,” she said.

“I see,” he remarked, “and how are the other two-thirds of the trio?”

Her eyes became warm immediately as she related that Harry was now a fully certified Auror and married to Ginny with a daughter and another child on the way. Ron worked at Hogwarts as the flying instructor, since Madam Hooch’s retirement several years earlier. He also refereed the matches between the houses.

“I certainly don’t have to ask what you have been up to,” she teased. “On the cover of Quidditch Monthly almost half of the year and in the Daily Prophet society pages even more often. You have certainly kept busy.”

He blushed slightly as he looked at his hands. “You know, you can’t believe everything you read.”

“Yes, I most certainly do know that from experience,” Hermione all but whispered. She looked out the high window, recalling her 4^th year at Hogwarts when Harry was entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. That was the year Cedric died and Voldemort rose again. Her eyes became sad and thoughtful.

A quiet came over the room as they both thought on all these things. Hermione closed those thoughts away for another time, another place, and brought her eyes back to Oliver and the task at hand.

“So, you have a text you want authenticated?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, of course. It is in this bag,” he stated as he rose to remove the book from his messenger bag. He lifted the bag from the desk and removed the book, setting it down softly in front of her. He placed the bag at his feet as he sat back down.

Her eyes took on a wholly different gleam now that the book was in front of her. A new adventure waited in the pages and she gloried in the rush of adrenaline she felt. Her small hands lifted the cover carefully and she read the inscription inside. Her eyes widened and she looked up at Oliver, who was busy watching her expressions. His eyes caught hers and she smiled.

“Do you realize what you have here?” she asked eagerly.

“I know what I would like to be, but, after all, you are the expert” he replied.

She smiled as she relayed some of the history of the book to him. He nodded when appropriate and asked detailed questions. This surprised Hermione for some reason. She had always thought of him as an athlete, a completely obsessed Quidditch captain. She saw now that she was quite mistaken.

“So, do you think it is authentic?” Oliver asked a few moments after they stopped talking.

She looked up at him and said, “Well, I will need to do a bit of research on it to be certain. Wild guess where you got it though…Bulgaria?”

“Yes, on a trip for a match,” he replied. “Is that significant?”

“Well, I have only ever seen one other edition of this particular book and it was supposed to be the only copy in existence,” Hermione murmured, the shutters on full force now.

“…and you suspect that this is the actual original?” Oliver queried.

“I have some inkling of what is true and what is false, but without examining both texts side by side, I cannot be 100% certain,” Hermione stated flatly.

“Would it be difficult to obtain this other copy?”

“Um, well, of that I am not certain. I can tell you that without that examination, I won’t be able to fully authenticate it. I am sorry.” Hermione replied.

“Well, if you need both, I don’t mind leaving this in your capable hands until this other copy be retrieved. Costs incurred and such things are quite understandable.”

Hermione’s eyes flared briefly and she was about to state that she would not in any way be traveling to retrieve the other copy when her stomach betrayed her and let loose a loud rumble.

Oliver’s eyes widened slightly and then he smiled. He glanced at his watch and observed that is was almost noon.

“Would you care to join me for some lunch while we discuss the finer details?” he gallantly offered.

She almost immediately declined, but was struck by his smiling face and open expression. ‘This is Oliver, for crying out loud,’ she thought to herself. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

“I would be delighted.” Hermione stated as she rose to secure the ancient tome in her desk and retrieve her cloak. She found it to be ready and waiting in Oliver’s hands. She blushed slightly and allowed him to help her into the cloak, his large warm hands smoothing out the back near her shoulders.

Oliver was smoothing the cloak over her shoulders when her perfumed scent assaulted his nose.

“Is that lavender?” He asked gruffly as he opened her door.

“Why, yes. I grow it in my garden and concoct an infusion to use in my shampoo. Not many people recognize it. I try to keep it subtle, as some folks have touchy sinuses around here. Probably from the dust,” she chuckled.

“Speaking of dust, you have some on your hair.” Oliver mentioned.

Hermione felt her hair. The dust that rose from that small pat was enough to make her sneeze. As she did, her pins securing her bun from that morning came loose and allowed her long curls to fall down her back.

Oliver swallowed hard and whispered, “Just a moment,” as he preformed the Scurgify spell. “There we are, all neat and tidy.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said quietly as her face flamed in embarrassment. She pulled the last of the pins from her hair and fluffed it with her fingers a bit before she walked right into her office door.

“Ow!” She exclaimed.

“Sorry, I didn’t open it all the way yet.” Oliver apologized. “That was entirely my fault.”

“No worries,” she replied, rubbing her forehead.

“Shall we try to get out of the store before we implode it in on itself?” he chuckled.

“Yes, please.” Hermione turned after they had both safely made it through the opening and whispered her locking enchantments.

Oliver allowed her to go ahead of him, while he followed at a respectful distance. Or perhaps disrespectful. He was admiring the way Hermione walked, her head held high as she maneuvered around others and spoke to her co-workers. She wasn’t snooty, but very focused. He managed to avoid any female customers while he followed her out of the book store and into Diagon Alley.

“Where to?” she asked.

“Well, there is this great Italian bistro around the corner from Madam Malkin’s, if you care to try it. I have heard of it, but never been there myself. It is a bit off the beaten path, which is honestly why it appeals to me,” Oliver stated.

Hermione didn’t have to ask why. They were receiving some interesting looks from the other patrons shopping in Diagon Alley that day.

“Sounds perfecto,” she said, with an almost perfect accent.

”You speak Italian as well?” Oliver asked, while guiding her through the street with his hand on her elbow.

“Well, being versed in several languages is almost a requirement in my line of work. How else would I know if what I was reading was accurate or not?” she said, as she struggled to fight back the rising heat from his soft touch at her side.

“True,” he mused as he led the way into a small bistro well off the beaten path, perfect for romantic interludes and private assignations.

As the hostess directed them to a small table near the back of the outdoor patio, Hermione felt the warmth of Oliver’s hand at the small of her back. Such gentlemanly manners had not been extended to her in a long time and she was a bit out of practice. She tried to focus as he held out her chair for her. Their table was located in an intimate corner of the patio, surrounded by potted plants that were at least six feet tall. The sunshine was beating down outside, but overhead was an old fashioned pergola with thick vines that kept out the heat and allowed only beams and shadows to intrude onto the little patio.

After taking his seat and passing Hermione a menu, Oliver already knew what he wanted, as Italian food was one of his weaknesses. He made sure they had the fusilli for a first course and the Etruscan beef dish as a second. Seeing as it was only lunch, there was no need for a dessert serving. Oliver sat back in his chair as the waiter brought their sparkling water, no bubbles and the bread basket. His eyes perused over his menu to watch Hermione reading it with concentration, all the while moving her lips slightly. Watching her pale pink lips form the Italian words was almost magical to him. He quickly looked back at his menu when she happened to glance up and almost caught him staring at her.

The waiter came back and as they ordered, Hermione conversing with the waiter in fluent Italian, Oliver chanced a glance at her again. The sunbeams making their way through the vines were lighting her hair just so. The blond curls and streaks throughout the surface were shimmering while the deep darkness underneath it all was just begging for his fingers to delve into it. Once the waiter left with their order, Oliver reached for some bread just as Hermione did and their fingers brushed together. She let out a slight gasp and instantly, her cheeks were a flattering pink. He quickly took his bread and buttered it, placing the knife down across his plate and took a bite. He looked off to the side and could barely make out people walking to and fro through the plants.

Hermione retrieved her bread but just set it on her bread plate. She raised her water glass to her lips and studied Oliver over the rim as he looked out to the street. His face was a masterpiece really, she thought. Strong chiseled features, without any one being in particular prominence. He kept his brown hair shorter, but not close to his head like in school. It fell neatly around his head and was tipped lighter slightly from being in the outdoors 75% of the time. His fingers were long but very manly. Not dainty or pampered, the calluses from his chosen profession could be seen in the palms. Hands that could harm if necessary but be gentle as well. Oh my, she thought, I need to stop this line of thinking now. Fantasizing over what Oliver could be doing with those wonderful hands was going to get her in trouble.

DONE: Rating: ALL I think

Sun, 08 Oct 2006 18:04:25 GMT

Title: DONE
Characters: Guess :D
Words: 586
Disclaimer: Not mine. Pfft.
Rating: All, I think. Maybe a PG if anyone has issue with imagery.
Author Note: Kendas put this up on quiet ones. I liked the thoughts that hit me, so I went with it. Word is: DETERMINED
Added Note: Forgot bout the pic. Ah well. I honestly prefer the image of FANON Blaise, but my writing would hint at nothing different from the picture posted. :D Even when I screw up, it works. LOL

Walking into the sporting venue, he felt the change in the air. The feeling of tangible magic was almost overpowering. There were so many faces, so many people, all pushing towards the exits, you couldn’t tell who was friend and who was foe.

The subtle tap on his arm, reminiscent of training in Quidditch jerked his head to the left. He watched the silver eyes glance forward and up, indicating that their best advantage would be from on high. Scanning his eyes to the right and left, he nodded and they split off to take up their positions. Being able to take in the scene, make decisions based on a moment’s observation and act, was a trait not known to many outside their circle.

Shadowing the dark recesses of the catwalks in the arena, his dark visage was almost invisible. Catching a glimpse of white blond hair across from him, he ran his hand over his face in a masking motion. The tell-tale distraction disappeared almost instantly. Looking down, the scene was much more horrifying, and yet beautiful at the same time, than anything he had ever set eyes upon. Bodies lay strewn in many unnatural poses, while a sea of heads ebbed and flowed, seeking release from the prison of devastation.

His attention was diverted to the center of the arena, where dark cloaks and multiple colored robes were assembled. One stood in the center, the darkness seeming to absorb and transmit from its presence. There, the white skin and red eyes of the Dark Lord were focused on one thing and one thing only. Potter. Harry. Standing opposite him, Potter was shining with the aura of virtue, goodness, and all that embodied the Light in these dark times. Flanking him on the right was the best friend, the strategist who defeated many Death Eaters just by the power of his ability to see five steps beyond this one. Weasley was standing with grim resolve, noting the positions of all players in this match up.

But what caught his eye and kept it was the small figure standing to the left. Her face was set. Her untamed mane was fairly crackling with the speed of her thoughts. Her mind was working overtime; you could see it in her eyes, even from his high vantage point. The spells, the incantations, the chance to do as much damage as possible, but ensure the least amount of casualty, it was all there. Her eyes flitted around the room and up to the rafters, encompassing all, in just a fraction of a moment. Her glance passed over him and then…flickered back to pierce his soul for all eternity. The determined set of her jaw slackened slightly and she blinked. That was all, but it was enough.

That blink said everything in that moment. Her acceptance of his presence, her acceptance of what may happen this evening, and her hope that it would soon all be over, for better or worse. He nodded back and broke her stare to glance across the space between him and his counterpart. He watched her gaze follow his and a small hint of the turning up of her lips as she caught sight of his target. She was rewarded with a wink and a smirk. She knew now. For certain and forever. They wouldn’t abandon each other, whether side by side, or flanked by darkness. Until the last spell was uttered, until the last curse fell from cold lips. Until this war was done.

He is a keeper, after all CH 4

Sat, 07 Oct 2006 19:39:00 GMT

Okay, don't freak out. I know, two posts in one day. I must be having issues. ;) Not really. Just realized it has been almost a month since I put up the last. BAD GIRL! *smacks hand* Good thing I don't need those for anything vital, like brain surgery or anything. lol I may put up the next one tomorrow. It is bad when you get reading and then..... :D See? CLIFFIE in the comments...not good.

Enjoy all. It only gets better from here...at least up until I got blocked. Need to do some writing exercises. Free writing never really worked for me. Any suggestions? ANYONE?? PLEASE?!?!?!?

She reached the top of the ladder and was fighting with another book, trying to dislodge it so that she could remove the listed text. ‘Oh bother,’ she muttered.

While Hermione was beginning her virtual war on dust and books in the stacks, Oliver walked into Flourish & Blotts carrying a large side bag with his treasure in it. He walked back towards Evan’s office and knocked politely on the door. Entrance was granted and he walked in seeing Evan speaking to someone in the fireplace. In any Muggle bookstore in the world, this would seem strange, but not in a wizarding bookstore. Oliver waited patiently by the door until the conversation was concluded, only a few moments really.

“Oliver! Grand to see you again. How are you today?” Evan asked, coming around his desk to shake Oliver’s hand.

“I am doing well, Evan. Busy day today, eh?” Oliver remarked. He had seen a nice line of people waiting to pay for their purchases nearer the front of the store.

“Always. Our store seems like a mad crush all the time lately. Ever since we began that new catalogue mailing service, our sales have tripled. But you don’t want to talk financials with me. Do you have the book?” Evan eagerly inquired.

“Yes, it is here in my bag. Can I set it out over here?” Oliver asked, indicating the table Hermione just vacated.

“Certainly. Let me get my glasses.”

Evan shuffled through several drawers as Oliver removed the book from his bag and laid it out reverently on the table. A few muttered curses and slammed drawers later, Oliver looked over to Evan scratching his chin, confused as to where his glasses disappeared to. Oliver reached over and tapped Evan on the head, and his glasses slid down onto his nose.

“Oh dear, I get so forgetful when I wear these cursed things. Always tucking them up on my head when I rub my eyes or want to look at something in large print,” he chuckled.

“No problem,” Oliver replied, with a small smile on his full lips. “Let’s look this over then shall we?”

Several moments later, Evan stood back up and looked up at Oliver, who was almost half a foot taller than him.

“I can see why you want this authenticated. If it is what it seems to be, you have a delightful find on your hands there, worthy of your collection.” Evan pushed his glasses up on his head again. “I can direct you to our researcher’s office and you can fill her in on the particulars as far as purchase location, etc.”

“And that is located…?” Oliver asked.

“Oh, yes. Um, one floor up, last door on the left. It is a larger office, but contains some absolutely wonderful texts on ancient languages.” Evan started looking around again, patting his robe pockets and then stopped, felt on top of his head, and sure enough, there they were. He removed his glasses, and slipped them into his outside robe pocket.

“Thank you again, Evan. I will see you again soon, I hope.” Oliver said as he packed his treasure up and began to exit the office, a full smile on his lips only when he had turned away from Evan.

“Good day Oliver,” Evan said as he sat down at his desk to finish his sales figures for the earlier sale.

Oliver walked past several customers who all turned and followed his progress up the stairs. He subtly looked back over shoulder and saw practically the entire store checking out the rearview. ‘I really need to start wearing my robe or cloak again’ he said under his breath. He came to the last door on the left and knocked. No answer. He knocked again, this time a bit louder and heard a loud sneeze. He cracked open the door and looked in.

“Hello?” he asked the empty room. “Hello?” a bit louder this time.

“Yes, Hello. I am here; I will be right with you. Please have a seat,” a slightly hoarse, but still very female, voice directed.

Oliver shut the door quietly and made his way over to the desk. On it, he saw several piles of papers, similar to Evan’s desk below. He hefted his bag up and laid it on the desk, making sure to not disturb anything. He had experience dealing with people not liking their workspaces messed up, way back in his 7^th year at Hogwarts. He stood there and reminisced about the setting down he had received from a little waif of a 3^rd year. She was a fireball when it came to her studies though. Once, he had came into the common room and was planning on working on some prime Quidditch plays, when he discovered his table, his table, was occupied. He flopped his bag down on top of the table, upsetting the young lady’s essay on Arithmancy. She looked at her ruined essay then to him, stood up and had given him what for so well, he thought he was getting yelled at by his mother. His ears had turned red, as everyone in the room had turned to watch. She proceeded to lift his very heavy bag of books and papers, and toss it halfway across the common room. He looked at her and then at his bag, and then back to her. She had fire in her eyes and her chest was heaving with labored breaths while she stared him down, practically daring him to say something. He walked over to his bag, picked it up, and walked upstairs with as much dignity as he still had after that confrontation.

Oliver mused while he took his seat, ‘So much passion at such a young age.’ As he remembered the way her eyes flashed at him and her heaving chest. ‘I bet she was a real firecracker now, 12 years later,’ he thought. What made him think of her at this moment, he couldn’t imagine. Being around all these books certainly could be the catalyst, as he remembered she spent quite a bit of time in the library there at Hogwarts. A loud sneeze was heard as a lady came forward from the back of the large room, a fat book in her arms. Her hair was coming loose from its hold at the back and curly tendrils were caressing her face. Her face looked slightly flushed, and not at all like what he imagined. ‘Hot spinster, indeed,’ remembering his thoughts from yesterday evening. Oliver quickly scanned his gaze over her hands and observed that although she wore rings, none were on her left ring finger.

“Thank you for waiting so patiently, sir.” Her voice had that husky quality that made the hairs stand up on the back of neck. He watched her place the heavy book on the desk with a loud thump and reach up to brush her hair back from her face.

“Now,” she said, “what do you-“her eyes widening at the sight before her. ‘Old crony he is not’ was the first thought Hermione grasped onto. Warm chocolate eyes looked back at her with a sparkle of humor and definite intelligence. She was locked into his gaze and felt a spark come to life inside the very depth of her soul, traveling up to her heart and causing her to shudder slightly. Hermione felt a flash of heat and then blinked twice to refocus herself. Her instincts took over and instant walls went up inside her mind and her heart. ‘Not good,’ she thought. Her gaze traveled around his broad shoulders and his quite handsome face, noticing a small gap between his lips as he cleared his throat.

Oliver watched her eyes widen and gaze into his. He could have sworn he saw her shoulders shake and watched her pupils slightly widen with a fire of passion that was quite familiar. He watched as well as she blinked twice and pulled the shutters down on her eyes. ‘Interesting,’ he thought. Her eyes traveled to his mouth and he thought he would die right there. He cleared his throat and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.…”

‘He is talking,’ Hermione told herself. ‘Answer him you dolt!’

“Uh, I am Miss Hermione Granger.”

OMG! I ONLY WISH I WAS THIS FREAKY!

Sat, 07 Oct 2006 19:24:49 GMT

Apparently, I likes me some freak-i-deek-ie. HA Like I would have the cajones to go there. TFF.

Thx Min. You totally cracked me up. And again, Could I be any more odd? 5 percent diff between 1st and 2nd? oy. My hubby is gonna have to work overtime...hehehehe. Not that THAT would be a bad thing. *smirk*

You scored as Fred and George Weasley. If you went to Hogwarts you would be doing the Weasley Twins. Oooo damn! You are freaky! You are a hell of a women to take on the Weasley twins. Double time!
Go head girl, go head get down!

</td>

Fred and George Weasley

85%

Draco Malfoy

80%

Cedric Diggory

65%

Harry Potter

60%

Victor Krum

55%

Ron Weasley

45%

Percy Weasley

25%

No one, your a prude

10%

WHO ARE YOU SCREWING AT HOGWARTS??
created with QuizFarm.com

FIC: He is a keeper, after all- CH 3

Fri, 15 Sep 2006 00:18:33 GMT

I wonder if anyone is even reading this besides Nys. *scratches head* Ah well. What else do I have to do besides clutter up the bandwidth occasionally? LOL

ENJOY!

Title: He is a keeper, after all
Pairing: Oliver/Hermione
Rating: At this point, let's say Pre Teen
AUTHOR: justmehere1971, Not Beta'd

At precisely 7:30 am, Hermione arrived outside Flourish and Blotts with a slight pop. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun that was slightly off to the side when she opened her eyes. Apparating still made her slightly queasy if she kept her eyes open. Her cloak, along with her simple black robe, flapped in the early morning breeze, showing her trim shape encased in smooth black slacks, and the bottom hem of her favorite sweater. It had been a bit chilly earlier when she left and she wanted to be sure to keep warm. London weather is always so unpredictable. Her knapsack slid off her shoulder as she made her way inside the quiet store. Hermione walked to the back of the aisles and aisles of books to Evan’s office. She wanted to be sure to make a point to speak to him about the forged book from yesterday and early morning before the shop was filled with customers was the best time.

She knocked lightly on his office door. A muffled ‘Come in’ was heard and Hermione opened the door. Despite being the manager of a very busy magical bookstore, Evan’s office was practically immaculate. Papers lined neatly on his desk highlighted orders coming in, orders received, and employee schedules. Evan walked out from the closet at the side of the office away from the wall of windows on the east side of the building.

“Good morning, sir.” Hermione said smiling slightly.

“Now, Hermione, how many times have I asked you to call me Evan,” he chuckled. “And good morning to you too.”

“Several times, s-, I mean, Evan.” Hermione blushed.

“Fine, fine. So, how are you this morning?” Evan asked.

“Good. I would like to ask you for a moment of your time later this morning. I have discovered some discrepancies concerning Mr. Idlewilde’s transcript from Hungary and I would like to follow up with you before I make a final declaration of its authenticity, sir, er, I mean, Evan.” Hermione said.

“Yes, that would be fine. I don’t mind looking it over, but I am confident that your final determination will be sound. I wouldn’t have hired you to research and authenticate rare medieval tomes if I didn’t trust your ability, my dear.” Evan replied.

“Yes, uh, Evan.”

“Okay, then. Is that all?” Evan inquired.

“Yes.” She replied.

“Good, well then, we will see you later this morning. Around 11?” he asked.

“Yes that is fine, thank you sir.” Hermione said.

Evan’s eyebrows rose.

“Er, I mean Evan.” She said before she turned. He smiled as she left.

Hermione walked up the stairs to her office door, picked up her now empty trashbin, and removed the enchantments on her door. She walked into the darkness, seeing as it was still early and the sun hadn’t made its way over the buildings yet. She removed her cloak and put it on the hook behind her door. She spoke the word “Lumos” and several lamps around her office lit up the darkness. All was as she left it the night before, as it should be. She took her trashbin and placed it next to her desk while laying her backpack on top. She stifled a yawn as she conjured up a pot of tea and scones to start her day and began working though the pile of things on her desk, trying to imitate her boss, Evan. Neatness and order are necessary evils sometimes she thought to herself. Despite Hermione’s near obsession with schedules and planners throughout school, she was a bit of a disaster nowadays. Once she became engrossed in a project, all her neat and tidy attitudes flew out the proverbial window. For the last 3 days, she had been poring over Mr. Idlewilde’s text and had neglected the rest of her work.

Once she had earmarked the pages that she wished to speak with Evan about, she moved the heavy text and her notes to another side table next to her door and began tidying up. With a swish of her wand, she designated the locations for her scraps of parchment and sorted her notes in alphabetical order in her filing cabinet. That done, she looked down the list of items that the other staff members had received requests for that dealt with ancient language texts and began to work in the stacks and stacks of books located in the back of her office. She could spend weeks poring over these books, she hummed. It warmed to the core to see all that wonderful knowledge there, just at the fingertips. She set to work.

At this same time, a young man was just stirring from his slumber in his home several miles north of London. Oliver opened his left eye and focused on the clock on his bed stand. 8:59 AM? Oh, lord, he thought to himself. Way too early to be up, he grumbled as he yawned and stretched. His toes caught on the sheet and tugged it down to reveal his toned chest and plain blue pajama bottoms. He rolled over and set his feet on the floor and winced. Sheesh, that is cold, his feet exclaimed to his brain. He quick like grabbed a pair of socks off the top of the laundry basket sitting next to his dresser and slid them on his feet. Putting his feet back on the floor, -that was much better-, he walked across the hall to his bathroom to start his day. Stripping down to nothing, he started the shower and grabbed a towel out of the closet. He stepped in and began to finally feel awake. But, of course an ice cold shower will do that to a guy. He had always found that a brisk short shower in the mornings usually shocked any sleep out of his system, no matter what time he woke up. He finished washing quickly and turning off the shower, he grabbed the towel from the curtain rod and slid the shower curtain to the side, only to scream like a banshee at the sight waiting for him.

“Hey Ollie, how’s tricks?” Fred and George smirked.

“OUT!” Oliver bellowed.

“Sheesh, guy can’t even take a joke anymore!” Fred remarked as they walked to the living room after the bathroom door slammed behind them.

“Well, we did just see him naked,” George replied.

“Yeah, but how is that different than the locker room at Hogwarts?” Fred asked.

“Cuz maybe back then, he knew we were there,” George said, with a slight eyebrow raise.

“Spose,” said Fred. “How ‘bout we make it up to him and start breakfast?”

“Sounds good, o brilliant twin of mine,” George said taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver walked into the kitchen with the aroma of burnt toast in the air.

“Don’t think that trying to cook me breakfast will make up for that little stint, guys. You scared 3 years off of my Quidditch career.” Oliver remarked, accepting a cup of very strong coffee.

“Oh YEAH! That’ll put hair on your chest.” He joked.

“And anywhere else it is lacking,” Fred replied with a straight face.

“So, Ollie, old boy. What are you up to these days?” George asked.

“Same thing as last Tuesday when you asked me that same question, practice, practice, practice,” Oliver said. “I do have to run to Diagon Alley this morning for an appointment, after that, I will be free for the day. Why?”

“Well, we have some new products that we are keen to discuss with you, if you’re interested. Quidditch based ones,” Fred admitted.

“Well, I don’t see a reason that I can’t swing by the shop. Meet ya there after lunch time then?” Oliver suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Quidditch-man! See you after lunch!” Both twins let themselves out.

While Hermione worked through the list, she spotted the name of a book that she knew was stored in the very back row of shelves and on the second from the top shelf. ‘Well, I can save that for last’ she thought to herself. It was almost 10:30 and she needed to gather up the book and notes for her appointment with Evan. Hermione walked down the stairs with her arms full and nodded at Evan while he was finishing up a sale in the Charmed Objects section of the store. He tossed his head towards his office in the back. Hermione opened the door to his office to see the same pristine arrangements in place, while some of the piles had changed sizes. She walked over to the side table under the wall of windows that was cleared off in order to examine books and other such literary items and laid out the papers and book that she was going to discuss with him. She glanced at her watch and noted it was 20 minutes before 11, so they had plenty of time.

Evan entered the office with the dollar signs still showing in his large eyes. Hermione looked back at her work with a small smile on her pale pink lips.

“That went well I take it,” Hermione asked.

“Very well. Now, onto Mr. Idlewilde. What did you have to show me?” Evan replied, placing his glasses on his face.

Being the organized creature that she normally is, Evan and Hermione got through the discrepancies rather quickly, in reality, only 15 minutes. He concurred with her findings and asked her to prepare a full report for Mr. Idlewilde that afternoon. Hermione had gathered up her notes and the text and was ready to walk out the door when Evan spoke again.

“By the way, I have a semi-regular customer coming in a few minutes to drop off an old text needing verification. I realize that it is very spur of the moment, but he is an old friend of mine and I have done some of these for him in the past. I would appreciate if you gave him a few moments,” Evan asked kindly, his large eyes blinking slightly.

“Absolutely, Evan. I will be up in my office. You can just send him on up,” Hermione replied.

“Thank you, Hermione,” he said.

She smiled and let herself out of his office. ‘Probably one of his cronies from years and years ago,’ she muttered to herself as she climbed the steps to her sanctuary. She let herself into her office and placed the load in her arms down on the side table. Her stomach growled as she walked over to the pile of books she had already retrieved this morning. ‘Well, hopefully this won’t take too long and I can go to lunch’ she thought as she walked back to the dark corner to retrieve the last book on the list. She pulled the ladder over and began to climb up, using the shelves as a handhold. As she reached the top, her hand grasped some forgotten documents lying on a shelf and slipped off the edge. The dust this created fell over her hair and black robe. She sneezed and tried to remove the excess dust from her robe and hair. This only caused more dust to float around and had her sneezing again. Hermione climbed back down the ladder and removed her robe to hang on the side of the ladder. Climbing back up, she realized how warm the air was near the ceiling. Her face was slightly flushed and her cheeks had a nice healthy tint to them by now. She reached the top of the ladder and was fighting with another book, trying to dislodge it so that she could remove the listed text. ‘Oh bother,’ she muttered.

Sat, 09 Sep 2006 03:57:51 GMT

K, you can blame this on Min, since she did it first. ;> lol

What five items owned by characters in your fandom(s) would you most like to own?

1. Oliver Wood's broom. Heh. Yep, I said it.

2. Hermione's 'Hogwarts: A History'. Cmon, it is mentioned OVER AND OVER AND OVER. Can you imagine what all is in there?

3. Draco Malfoy's wardrobe. My, didnt he look yummy in GOF: Quidditch World Cup? All that black with the white hair?

4. I am gonna say a house elf too. Min- you took the good ones! lol

5. And, just because I want to....Wolverine. :D

I normally dont do these. But hey...it was cute. And I really wondered what I would take.

And none of ya really care anyway!!!!!!! LOL

Prompt-Autumn

Sun, 03 Sep 2006 18:49:22 GMT

So this is my first attempt at a prompt from Quiet Ones Comm. I do hope it complies and you all enjoy it. LEMME KNOW! ;)

Title: Her Gold
Author: moi! :D
Rating: All Ages
Warnings: Um...none?
Disclaimer: Not mine. PFFT!
Pairing: Hr/D

X-Posted to Quiet Ones Com

Hermione rubbed her hand across her swollen abdomen gently, listening as leaves skittered across the yard in front of her. The wind was not bitter yet, being only October, but the changing of the seasons was evident in the red, brown, and gold that danced on the unseen currents. Her feet lightly pushed off the floor and the melody of the creaking wooden porch swing was added to the ambient noises that soothed and relaxed her.

It reminded her of other days, simpler days; days when she laughed with the boys who resembled autumn in their appearance. Red as sunset, fire, heat, passion. He was so full of emotion in those days. And the so-brown-it-could-be-black color of dark, deep, hidden feelings. He was such a contradiction at times. The same way his power contradicted with his compassion. Her boys. Her family. Her past.

A smooth pale hand eased over her shoulder and she smiled. Here, now, this was what she held dear. This was her family, soon to be expanded. This was her present and her future. This was her gold.

He is a keeper, after all- Chapter Two

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 17:55:53 GMT

Ugh...I keep trying to post this darn thing. Keeps deleting itself. UGH! Okay..all done.

Here ya go. It is Hermione/Oliver, title is He is a keeper, after all. Enjoy.

*only chapter two and about fed up with LJ!*

“Auntie Hermione!” a small voice shouted before a little person with freckled arms and vibrant auburn curls launched themselves at her waist, as if their life depended on it.

“Hey Chels!” gushed Hermione. “How is my favorite little god-daughter today?”

“I’m okay, but you wouldn’t believe the neat stuff I found in the attic the other day,” she exclaimed. “But don’t tell Mummy,” Chelsea whispered, “She always gets mad when I go snooping.” A small giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh, okay, your secret is safe with me,” whispered Hermione conspiratorially. Chelsea beamed.

Hermione still couldn’t get over this amazing little girl. Although she was only five years old, Chelsea Lily Potter was a bit of an enigma. She had the unstoppable energy of the average five year old, the constant babbling about nothing, and the ability to wrap most adults around her little finger. Her appearance was as most young children as well. Dirt streaks on her hands and little scratches here and there on her legs were marks of her Weasley heritage. They were a rough and tumble group and it showed. Once, Hermione recalled, Chelsea had been climbing the huge tree in the back yard of the Burrow, when she missed a limb and lost her grip. It was a scary moment to hear her scream pierce the air as she fell. Everyone rushed over to check on her and she lay there, as if unconscious. Ginny was beside herself and Chelsea popped up and said, “Oi! That was fun! I wanna do that again!” Everyone clustered around and hugged her and told her to never climb the tree again. She nodded her head and went to play with her cousins. Not two days later, Hermione caught her at almost the very top of the tree. She made sure that no one knew and coaxed Chelsea back down again. They made a pact right there that if she promised not to climb trees anymore, Hermione would buy her an archeology book. Shameless bribery really, but it worked. Now, Chelsea was fixated on finding things hidden in the dark corners of her house. Hermione looked down at Chelsea again. Her dark auburn hair hung down to her shoulder blades in soft curls and was just as untamable as her father’s used to be at Hogwarts. Her bright emerald green eyes were bright and infinitely curious. And, she adored books and learning. Go figure.

Hermione heard a whoop and the rest of the house came out the door at her. Harry raced over and scooped up Chelsea with a great flourish and kissed her noisily on her stomach. He reached around the squirming, giggling little bundle and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey there, Hermione. Is this little imp bothering you?” Harry growled as he tickled Chelsea.

“Oh absolutely! You should put a leash on that girl. Honestly, she runs around just HUGGING people, Harry!” Hermione said in a stern voice. Harry looked up and saw the twinkle in her eyes.

“Well, then I guess it is off to the pet store with you, little lady!” He said sternly.

“Daddy! Stop! I can’t breathe!” Chelsea giggled.

“What is this I hear about a pet store?” Ginny came up and hugged Hermione. Ginny Weasley Potter was 5 months pregnant and glowed as if there were no sunshine anywhere else the world. It all radiated from her face.

“We are not getting that Crumpled Horn Snorkack! I will not allow it, Harry James Potter!”

Everyone dissolved in laughter.

“Hey, is this a party or what?” a deep voice boomed from behind Hermione.

“Hey Ron!” Harry boomed back.

“Uncle Ron!” Chelsea squirmed from her fathers grasp to run into Ron’s arms.

“Hey little imp! How are you?” Ron asked, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

Hermione and Ginny just rolled their eyes. Ginny jerked her head towards the house as they all made their ways inside. Ron placed Chelsea down on her feet and she was off like a bullet, into the living room.

“Hey Hermione. How is the smartest witch in this generation?” Ron asked as he pulled her into a hug. The three sat around the kitchen table as Ginny went to the sink to finish dinner.

“Ron, you know how I hate it when you mention that. I wish Remus had never said that. It has proved most difficult to live down.” Hermione stated.

“Eh, we all knew it long before then Hermione. So, how are things?” Ron queried.

“Things are fine. Work is going well. Same ole, same ole,” She replied quietly, picking at the tablecloth.

Everyone but Hermione locked eyes and raised eyebrows. Ginny again jerked her head, this time towards the dish cabinet for the guys set the table in the dining room. Both men rose from the table and began removing dishes as Hermione looked up at Ginny with a look of understanding. The two moved to the dining room, discussing the newest addition to the Puddlemere United team, Michael Cook, and how it would affect the team dynamics.

Ginny sat down at the kitchen table and smoothed her hands over her small but prominent belly.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“Not particularly, but you won’t let that happen, so maybe later, after the game is on?” Hermione asked.

“Sounds good. We can listen to the storm rage from the sun room.” Ginny winked. She distinctly remembered Hermione’s affinity for storms.

“Okay, so, what can I do to help?” Hermione brightened.

Once dinner was finished and the dishes put away, the guys settled down in the living room to watch the Quidditch match that was on that night. Chelsea snuggled in between her dad and her uncle, looking like she was in heaven. Hermione watched her from the doorway and sighed. It was with a pang that she turned to follow Ginny’s lead to the sun room. The storm had begun during dinner and was raging fully by now. They both settled in their seats and watched lightening flash across the sky and felt the rumble of thunder through their chairs, while they sipped their tea.

Muffled shouts could be heard through the house as the game progressed inside. Hermione and Ginny both laughed slightly and smiled.

Hermione was fidgeting with her cup and saucer while Ginny observed her over the rim of her own cup. Hermione hasn’t changed that much since school, she thought to herself.

Her long coltish legs were clad in taupe slacks and curled under her, while a chocolate brown cashmere sweater encased her small shoulders and her average bosom. The wild mane of brown hair that terrorized her throughout their school years had calmed down some, but was still a bit unruly some days. Today, with the high humidity, it had curled in on itself almost completely. The spirals fell down to her lower back and the clasp she used to hold it all back while she worked was coming loose. The soft tendrils next to her cheeks were lighter than the rest. Her brown eyes were focused on the horizon and then as if she could feel Ginny’s eyes on her, swung over to look surprised at her best friend.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing, just noticing how you haven’t changed much since your 6^th year,” Ginny replied.

Hermione snorted.

“Really. You have the same figure, the same look of brilliance in your eyes, the same...”

“Thanks, really. No need to go any further,” Hermione blushed.

“What? I can’t compliment my best friend on how she hasn’t changed in seven years time? Except that you have this depth to your eyes that wasn’t there before.” Ginny remarked.

Hermione looked surprised.

“I don’t know what you are going on about. I think I have changed a lot, except where it is important.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked.

“Just what I said. The things that are the same in me are things that I don’t ever want to change. My thirst for knowledge, the things that fulfill me are the same. I will be an old lady and still want to know it all.” She laughed.

“But as far as my looks go, it is just window dressing. It doesn’t show anything but what people want to see. I know what has changed and what hasn’t. Most people won’t see what has truly changed me, and for that I am thankful.” Hermione stated.

“Like what?”

“What we went through in the war. What our lives could have been like. Those are the things that I am thankful no one will ever know. And,” She stopped and took a long sip of her tea.

“And?”

“And would you look at the time. I have to go.” Hermione said with finality.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“You can try to make out like things are all fine and dandy, but sooner or later; it will catch up with you.” Ginny said.

“Well, when it does, I will hopefully be ready.”

Later on, as Harry was putting a sleeping Chelsea to bed, Ginny watched from doorway.

Harry tucked her blanket around her and brushed her hair back from her forehead to lay a gentle kiss there. It still amazed Ginny that given everything that Harry had been through as a child and young adult; he was still able to love so sweetly, so gently.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, Daddy.” Chelsea mumbled.

As they walked to their own bedroom, Harry wrapped an arm around Ginny’s waist and rubbed her back.

“Oh, that feels so good.” She said quietly.

“You had a hard day, Gin,” he said. “You shouldn’t work so hard, put your feet up every once in a while.”

“I do dear. But it isn’t always easy with a rambunctious five year old flitting around.” She chuckled. They pulled pillows from the head of the bed to fold down the comforter together.

“I know. Gosh, where does she get it from?” he asked.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I know. Weasley genes.” He laughed. “So, how did the talk go?”

“Okay, I guess. She is in denial about something, but won’t let on what.”

“Well, she will tell when she is ready I guess. Hermione never did like being pushed on anything. Usually it was the other way around.” Harry said.

“Right. But I am worried that whatever it is, it will keep her locked in that office for the rest of her life, and won’t let her live fully.” Ginny countered as she removed her clothes from the day and slipped on her nightgown.

Harry flopped down on the bed and began removing his shoes.

“Is it really that serious?” He asked, turning to see Ginny pull her nightgown up over her full belly.

“It could be, Harry.” She replied as she rubbed lotion all over her stomach.

“Remind again why you do that?” He asked.

“To keep from getting stretch marks, my dear.”

“Oh,” he said, turning back around. “I thought it was just to drive me insane with lust,” he muttered.

“Hun, I don’t have to do anything to do that. The proof is sitting right here in my stomach.”

Earlier, as the Potters and guests had sat down to dinner, Oliver Wood had just come out of the locker room at Puddlemere United’s practice pitch. His teammates would be meeting at a local restaurant and he was running late. ‘A captain’s job is never done’ he thought to himself. Oliver hadn’t changed much since his last year at Hogwarts. He was still dashing, in a romance novel sort of way. Since reaching adulthood, he had grown to a tall 6’3”, and his shoulders were slightly wider than before. He was in good shape for a 29 year old man, but Quidditch was responsible for most of that. It certainly wasn’t his diet. He could eat a horse and still be hungry.

His face still had that sweet boyish quality, but it was a very masculine face, with strong features. His eyes were still brown, warm chocolate brown to be exact, but they were also mischievous in character. They also conveyed intelligence, once someone looked past the package to see it. Most people, women especially, were inclined to remark on his physique, his smile, or his celebrity. It was overwhelming as a younger man, but he was more mature now, more knowing. As long as Oliver treated everyone as a fan, and not as potential best buddies or girlfriends, he coped remarkably well. All were things he took in stride, and sometimes, he was allowed to show his smarts. Usually it was to men, who took it as an insult that such a man existed. Smart, good looking, popular, rich, and modest. Men didn’t respond to the competition well. Well, most men. His teammates had similar outlooks and demeanors and so he was content within this small circle of friends.

As he strolled into the restaurant, he could already hear his teammates table from the door. The hostess smiled brightly and led Oliver to their table. The team was giving the waitress a hard time and Oliver had come up just as her face was about to explode into flames of embarrassment.

“Alright folks, show’s over. Let the lady do her job,” Oliver barked.

“Oliver, don’t ruin the fun, man!” Jon O’Shaunessy cried.

“Only one I see having fun is you blokes,” Oliver replied while taking his seat.

The waitress moved over to him and he placed his order. She blushed and said, “Right away sir.”

The team just looked at Oliver. He was moving his silverware around and situating his water glass when he caught them staring.

“What?”

“Right away sir” Chaser Ted Hereford mimicked in a high voice. “You are such a dolt, Oliver. Don’t even recognize when a prime bird like that is hitting on you.”

The team chuckled.

“For your information, Ted, I don’t look at every female in my line of sight as a future conquest.” Oliver replied calmly. “Mostly, I see them as people who deserve to be treated with respect and dignity.”

The entire team was quiet for a moment, and then loud boisterous laughter burst forth and enveloped the surrounding tables.

“Yeah, okay, Ollie, whatever,” muttered Simone Dubois, the Seeker for the team.

“You all are children,” Oliver remarked, before taking a drink of his water.

“Oliver? Oliver Wood? Of course, it is you!” a tall man with large eyes and graying hair came up to the table.

“Evan! How are you, good man?” Oliver rose out of his seat to shake his friend’s hand.

“Fine, fine. And yourself?”

“Couldn’t be better. Let me introduce my teammates.” Oliver introduced all the folks on the team and invited Evan to sit down.

“Oh, no. Thank you though, I have to be running along. The store will be opening in exactly,” Evan looked at his pocket watch as he stated, “12 hours and I have much to do before tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Erm, speaking of the store, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time tomorrow. I have a new acquisition that I need to be verified and I was hoping you could help.” Oliver questioned.

“Well, I don’t do that part of the business anymore, I am sorry. But we have a brilliant researcher there who I am sure would be more than willing to look it over. She is quite accomplished and a veritable genius with old texts. Quite the dedicated worker she is, almost reminds me of myself in my younger years. At least in passion!” Evan blushed a little.

Oliver watched his eyes glaze over a bit when he spoke of the researcher. ‘Hmm, must be a right hot little spinster to catch his eye!’ Oliver thought.

“Yes, well, hmm hmm, I must be going, but I will be certain to let her know you will be by tomorrow, say around 11?” Evan was shaking Oliver’s hand.

“Sounds great, Evan. See you then.”

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 14:32:25 GMT

Title: And You Are?
Author: justmehere1971
Rating: R, probably
Summary: His pale fingers slid down her hip, drawing a gasp. While this was definitely not what she had planned for the evening, she was nothing if not flexible.

A/N: Not sure what I am doing here. Hope this works.

His pale fingers slid down her hip, drawing a gasp. While this was definitely not what she had planned for the evening, she was nothing if not flexible.

“Oh,” she said with a sigh. “Please, Now.”

His soft murmuring of a contraception spell caused her eyes to open, and she looked behind to see his brow furrowed, as he slid slowly into her. His eyes closed, causing as a look of transcendence spread across his patrician features. He raised his head to the headboard as his lips parted on a deep groan of satisfaction.

There was nothing to disturb their quiet actions, as they both crept higher towards the goal of this coupling, the blissful culmination of an evening when two unlikely people finally crossed the dividing line of childhood, social class, prejudice, and their own closely guarded hearts.

As she felt his thrusts increase slightly, her hand reached behind her for his. As her small ink-stained fingers entwined with his strong grip, she felt the beginnings of the end. She tugged his hand towards her heart. His body caressed hers as he followed her lead and pressed his body along her back. It was electric when she felt his strong chest behind her shoulders, the smooth skin slightly damp with a sheen of perspiration. His mouth latched onto that tender place where the shoulder meets the neck as he slid in and out of her quivering pussy.

“Oh, Gods,” she cried, as her blood began to race faster, her panting breath coming faster.

“What do you want, love?” he asked, his voice deep with passion and pride.

That he was able to make her cry out like that, she couldn’t comprehend it. This was so surreal. She had never felt this much with anyone else, and it allowed her to speak when before, she would have held her tongue.

“I want you to-,” she gasped, as he slowed the withdrawal of his cock from her body, only to thrust deeply into her with a small smirk across his face. “Oh, Gods,” she cried again. “Do that again!”

He tucked her long curls away from her face as he placed his firm lips next to her ear. “But,” he rasped, his own breath coming faster, “What do you want from me, love?” His hands slid up her sides, along her breasts, that felt like they would explode if she didn’t cum soon. As the long fingers wrapped around her shoulders, the deep thrusts became short, shallow, and oh dear sweet Merlin, faster.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Please. Say it again.”

His own breath caught as his climax began to creep up his spine, making him harder and thicker than he had ever felt before. He looked at her profile, face damp with sweat, her full lips parted, while her eyelids fluttered open and closed. Her head slid back onto his shoulder as her body began to tighten around him, pulling him even deeper under her spell.

His husky cry reverberated throughout the honeymoon suite, as his orgasm pumped out of him in long bursts, triggering Hermione to follow him over the edge.

“I love you, Mrs. Malfoy!”