Hermione was woken from her sleep by something tickling the bottom of her foot. Her lips curved into a frown as she moved her foot, her eyes still closed as she attempted to go back to sleep. She again felt something on her foot, her sleepy mind waking up as she realized that it felt like fingers. With a sudden kick of her foot, she turned on the lamp and glared down at the person who was touching her foot.


Her glare softened as she whispered, "Oliver? What are you doing here?"


"Getting kicked in the face by my lover, it would seem," he rubbed his cheek where her foot had made contact.


"Sorry," Hermione smiled sheepishly as she sat up, the covers falling down around her waist, "you startled me."


"Aye," he suddenly grinned, "should I be concerned about you not knowing what bloke might be sneaking into bed with ya?"


"Well, you know, you do travel a lot and I get lonely," Hermione teased, giggling as he lunged forward and straddled her, his tall body leaning forward and his soft lips brushed against her neck.


"Hermione," he threatened softly, his brown eyes moving over her face, "don't tease me like that."


"How would you like me to tease you?" she asked wickedly, her fingers moving through his short brown hair as her body squirmed beneath his.


"You expect me to think when you're doing that?" he arched a brow as he moved to lay beside her, his hand moving along her upper thigh, beneath the hem of the Chudley Cannons T-shirt he had given her after being traded to that team. It was faded and worn from repeated use during the last year, but she still managed to look amazingly beautiful. Her brown eyes were still sleepy but beginning to take on a familiar gleam that he recognized very well.


"I thought you were in France for the tournament," Hermione said suddenly, "did something happen? Are you injured?"


"No, lass, I just wanted to see you," he confessed, "so I claimed I wasn't feeling too well and went to my room early. Geoff is going to tell the Coach that I'm sick tomorrow so I can stay here until Sunday."


"You're going to miss practice?" her surprise was evident as she looked at her lover of the past eighteen months. During the nearly two years that they had been dating, she had always been second to Quidditch, Oliver's first love. She hadn't minded at the beginning because she was just as driven and focused on her work as he was, but, as their relationship deepened and became more serious, it had become more difficult to always be considered second to the man she loved.


"You're more important than practice," he said softly as he looked into her eyes, his hand moving closer to the soft curls between her legs. "I've missed you, Hermione. The last two weeks, well, I just had to see you."


"I've missed you, too," she smiled tenderly as she leaned up and brushed her lips against his. The brunette witch knew that missing practice might not seem overly romantic to others, but, to her, it was the most romantic gesture that Oliver had ever made.


"You're so wet," he observed softly, his fingers brushing against her wet lips before one slowly slid inside.


"Was dreaming of you," Hermione gasped as his finger began to move, his right hand moving against her face, the rough skin of his palm cupping her cheek as he leaned forward and ran his tongue over her lips.


"What were you dreaming?" he asked as he added another finger than another, three fingers gently stretching her and teasing her.


"You touching me like this," she moaned as his head moved lower, his tongue swirling around her hard nipple, his hair falling across his forehead as he continued to bring her near the edge with his fingers before stopping. "You inside me, slow and deep."


Oliver released her breast and smiled as he looked into her eyes. With a quick kiss, he moved over her, his cock hard and aching from being without her for two weeks of training and then the tournament. He moved his wet hand over his erection, moving between her legs, feeling the long limbs move around his waist as she rubbed against him. There were times that he still found it difficult to believe that he had found such love and happiness with the woman that he had considered an annoying know-it-all when they'd been at Hogwarts together. He had never imagined that the bucktoothed and bushy haired girl would become such a vibrant and sexy woman.


She wasn't gorgeous or even overly beautiful, her looks rather plain and her figure full, but he thought she was the loveliest creature in the world. He honestly thanked Merlin every day for bringing them both to Diagon Alley that morning twenty-two months ago and having them run into one another. He could still remember her look of outrage at her books laying on the sidewalk after he'd knocked into her while reading a copy of the latest Quidditch Weekly, her eyes flashing with recognition. He knew her, of course, having seen her photo in the newspapers following the final battle against Voldemort at the end of her seventh year at Hogwarts, and the three years since had been good to her. She looked relaxed and happy, quite a change from the frazzled and tired witch that had helped Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord. They'd begun a conversation that had extended to lunch and then he'd asked her to dinner. Dinner had led to many more outings and finally to them making love a few months later. She was wearing his engagement ring on her finger and they had plans to marry over the Christmas holidays.


Oliver caught her lips with his as he slowly eased the head of his cock into her, thrusting deeply and sending her body against the mattress. They began to move together, her hands stroking his back and hair, their lips never breaking their kiss except for brief gasps of air. It didn't take him long to feel his release approaching. It had been too long without her, her body fitting perfectly against his, the love in her eyes enough to send him over the edge without even touching. He moved his hand between them, finding her sensitive clit and rubbing it as his thrusts became deeper and faster. With a groan, he came, his seed spilling into her, her muscles tightening around his cock as she whimpered his name, her fingernails digging into his back as her own orgasm hit her.


A satisfied smile crossed her face as she held Oliver, not wanting to release him. She kissed his face as her body finally stopped spasming, reluctantly letting him pull out of her. He laid beside her, pulling her against his body as he pulled the cover of them. He kissed her neck and whispered that he loved her, his arm around her waist and his leg across her left one. She snuggled against him, her eyes closing as she sleepily said, "I love you, too, Oliver. Sweet dreams."