Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Family secrets are like vampires. They never really die, and can always come back to bite you.”

― Alberta J. McMorris

His Mother’s journal in his lap, Theo tried not to weep. He had always wondered why his father had slain his mother in cold blood in front of him and now he had the answer. Theo stared unseeing at the splendour of Nott Manor and let out a ragged breath.

If Thoros ever learns of my creature heritage - the Veela blood that runs in my veins - my life will assuredly be forfeit. I worry for my Theodore should that happen. Would he slay his son and heir as well?

He ran his finger along the words. His father had to have discovered it. It was the only explanation.

Theo’s raven black wings shuddered and wrapped around him, his fangs descending into his mouth at the strength of his emotions.

His battle with his tears was finally lost and they flowed down his cheeks. He was a monster. He had bloody fangs and wings for Salazar’s sake.

Who could possibly love him now?

On top of that, if he didn't find his mate soon he would die. All the books he’d read on Veela from the Manor’s library were painfully clear on that point.

How was any of this fair? Hadn't he given up enough?

************

Theo was grateful that he had developed a little bit of control over his Veela nature, because the chaos of Platform 9 ¾ was pushing his limits horribly. If his heritage had emerged last year, he would have terrified everyone by spreading his wings and baring his fangs in the crowd just to get people to stop jostling him.

Blaise was saying something next to him, but Theo couldn't focus on his friend’s voice. There was a scent that hung in the air that had his full attention and he desperately needed to get to the source.

"Let’s get on the train," Theo said, attempting not to snarl at his friend, "This crowd is beyond tolerance."

"Of course Lord Nott," Blaise drawled, laughing.

"What was that?"

"You weren't listening at all were you? With your father getting the Kiss, you are Lord Nott now. The debutantes are going to be throwing themselves at you and I’d be surprised if you don't receive at least six marriage contracts before the end of the week I am no judge of the looks that you are getting from some of the mothers staring at you right now, I'd wager you may even see a few by dinner, even with that ridiculous beard you have going."

Theo scoffed, but looked around and saw a number of narrowed looks that made him feel more like prey than a Veela.

He shuddered. He'd grown three inches and gained nearly two stone in muscle mass since presenting in June after the final battle. He knew that he looked good, but he couldn't find it in himself to be interested in any of the women that were looking this way. Even Daphne,who he had always wanted to shag,wasn't summoning the slightest bit of interest from his cock and the “come fuck me eyes” she was giving him left no doubt as to her thoughts. She would definitely expect an engagement ring afterwards and no longer feeling even the slightest bit of desire for her made Theo wrinkle his nose up at the thought.

"Disgusting."

Blaise laughed as they entered the train, "You will have to marry someone, Theo."

Theo nodded. He knew that, but he wanted it to be his mate.

But just as Theo was about to respond, he smelt it again. The scent from the platform was wafting down the train car. He tossed his bag to Blaise. "Find a compartment. I’ll be back.”

“Theo, what the fuck?” Blaise yelled after him, but Theo was already dodging the lower years as he worked his way through the train, leaving his friend behind. He could smell something tantalising, and he had to know what it was, who it was.

As he made his way through the cars, he realised that it was not one scent, but two that were drawing him in. One was like vanilla and old books. The other was petrichor and citrus. They were both coming from the same direction. He worked his way toward the front of the train as it departed the station and the walkways emptied as people found their seats.

It made it much easier to hunt them.

Them, who? Theo wondered. Was that the Veela’s thoughts? He didn't like to think that his Veela self was a separate consciousness inside of him; it made him uncomfortable.

He tried to ignore it because the need was burning through him and he didn’t like the worrisome thought that he was out of control. He just had to find where those smells were coming from.

Suddenly, the compartment door in front of him flew open and a curly haired goddess stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at whoever was inside.

“You know what, Ginny? Fuck Ronald and fuck you!” She slammed the door so hard that she nearly toppled over, but Theo was right there. He would always be right there.

He had her by the waist before she fully fell into him, but the contact left him breathless with trousers that suddenly felt much tighter than they had a moment before.

“Granger, careful now. I’ve got you,” Theo breathed onto her neck. She was so much smaller than he remembered her being.

She turned in his grip and her pupils dilated as she looked up at him. The scent of her arousal caused his nostrils to flare.

She wasn’t immune to him. That was very good.

“Nott,” she exhaled, “You can let go of me now.” Her eyes were bright as though she was going to cry. Why was she upset?

Theo did not release her, but turned and saw the Weaslette and some other Gryffindors staring open mouthed at him from inside the compartment. He glared briefly, barely containing a snarl complete with fangs.

“Did the Weaselette upset you?” Theo murmured, barely keeping from kissing her, claiming her, pulling her into one of the compartments nearby and shagging her until she couldn’t walk.

“Why do you care if someone makes a filthy little Mudblood like me upset?” She said, her caustic words without any venom, only sorrow colouring her words. Theo felt his heart clench. “Won't Malfoy hate that someone else is stealing his job?” She was fighting back tears and looked back at the compartment where the occupants had continued to stare at her.

“Granger,” Theo growled warningly, “who hurt you?”

“Fuck you, Nott,” She snarled, “Who hasn’t hurt me?” With that, she turned and stomped down the car, her warm vanilla scent teasing him.

His Veela demanded that he chase her, comfort her, possess her, but he had to calm himself; he needed to give her space. He needed to make her trust him and rely on him, only then could he claim her. She would be his. She was already his. She just didn’t know it yet.

Their eyes met as she opened the door to the loo. He saw her mouth whispering a silencing charm as she slammed the door. Brat.

He loved a challenge.

Now he just had to find that other smell. It was nearby as well. He came to a compartment where Draco was sitting looking miserable with Goyle attempting to talk to him.

Of course. He should have recognized that smell in the first place.

He slid the door open and smiled. “Greg. Draco.”

“Oi, Theo,” Goyle said, smiling. “I was wondering where you were.”

“I was with Blaise. In fact, can you find him and bring him here?”

“Oh sure thing mate!” Greg replied, kindly, “Maybe you can cheer up Draco here. He’s busy self-flagellating.”

“Oh fuck off, Greg,” Draco drawled, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back.

Theo felt the thrill go through him as the door shut behind Greg and he sat next to Draco, aware that he was now taller and broader than his friend. The smell of Draco was overwhelming his senses in the enclosed space. Theo grabbed Draco and pulled him onto his lap so that Draco was straddling him, their chests pressed together. The blond made a noise of surprise, but relaxed into Theo’s grip, especially when he felt Theo’s hard cock beneath him.

“Theo, what the fuck? We broke up, remember?” Draco whimpered, but didn’t pull away. Gripping Draco’s hips, Theo rubbed Draco against him and released some of his Veela pheromones, watching as Draco’s eyes glazed, his cock responding to Theo’s scent and the rolling of Theo’s hips.

“A mistake that will not be repeated. You are mine,” Theo whispered against Draco’s lips before claiming them. Theo’s fingers on Draco's hips were tight with bruising pressure. Draco moaned into Theo’s mouth and Theo felt pleasure down to his toes. He’d claim him now if he could, bite him, bury himself inside of his hot wanton body. Unfortunately, Greg and Blaise were probably already on their way back. It would have to wait until tonight. “That’s it. That’s my good boy.”

Draco shivered with desire from the praise.

If Granger was going to be a challenge, Draco would be the salve to his wounds while he pursued her. And he would get her, Theo felt the confidence flowing through him. She would not be able to resist the pull to him for long. She’d reacted to him and all he had done was put his hands on her waist.

Two mates. Theo groaned and gripped Draco’s hair tilting his head back so he could nip along his porcelain neck, tasting each scar from Potter’s curse like they were the sweetest nectar.

Sweet Circe, how had he gotten so lucky?

*************************

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Hermione

Hermione couldn’t stand to be in the compartment with Ginny for one second longer, she pulled the door open with the force of her anger, rattling the metal as it slammed. She turned back and glared at Ginny, ignoring Dean and Seamus.

“You know what, Ginny? Fuck Ronald and fuck you!” She slammed the door so hard that she almost fell but suddenly someone had her by the waist before she fully fell into him. The gasping breath on her neck set her blood to racing and goose pimpled her flesh.

“Granger, careful now. I’ve got you,” Theodore Nott breathed onto her neck. She turned in his grip when she recognized the voice, shocked that he would put hands on a mudblood. She was surprised when his eyes were not level with her own, she looked up at him, more than a foot taller than her now, a beard dusted his cheeks and his shoulders were massive. And he smelled amazing like Egyptian musk and sweat. She felt breathless and watched his nostrils flare as he stared down at her too.

What the bloody hell was wrong with her?

“Nott,” Hermione exhaled, “You can let go of me now.” She just wanted to get away from the strange feelings inside her and go cry in private.

He did not release her, but turned and looked at Ginny and the others staring open mouthed at him from inside the compartment. He glared at them, his hands tightening almost protectively on her momentarily.

“Did the Weaselette upset you?” Nott murmured, turning back to her, his pupils swallowing up the deepest sapphire eyes that she had ever seen. His gaze flickered to her lips and she got the horrifying sense that he was considering kissing her, kissing her in front of Ginny Weasley.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

“Why do you care if someone makes a filthy little Mudblood like me upset?” She said, her words not sounding as angry as she wanted. Dammit, she was going to start crying, she needed to get away from Nott, immediately. He flinched at her use of the slur, so she doubled down. “Won't Malfoy hate that someone else is stealing his job?” She was fighting back tears and looked back at the compartment where her friends - former friends - had continued to stare at her.

“Granger,” Nott growled warningly, “who hurt you?”

What did he care anyway?

“Fuck you, Nott,” she snarled, “Who hasn’t hurt me?” With that, she turned and stomped down the car, away from him. He just stood there frozen, staring at her. Their eyes met as she opened the door to the loo. “Silencio.”

She slammed the door and dissolved into tears as all her dreams disintegrated.

********

Four Months Earlier

Hermione waited until after the funerals were over, but the moment she could she arranged for a port-key to Australia. Ron wasn’t happy, but she tried to make allowances for the angry things that he had said to her, and their relationship was new. A kiss at the Battle of Hogwarts flowing into the dating that everyone had expected from them now that the war was finally done. And if the thought of leaving Ron behind to go to Australia and get her parents’ memories back didn’t bother her much, she convinced herself that he was her best friend and boyfriend, it would be fine to be apart for a little while. She could trust Ron.

After only a month, she’d both found her parents and restored their memories with help from a charm specialist from their magical hospital in Sydney. Her parents surprised her by not wanting to return to England. They loved their life and friends in Australia, but insisted that she stay with them for the rest of the summer when they learned she was planning to return to Hogwarts for an eighth year to finish her studies and exams. She’d been afraid they would be angry with her, but they hadn’t been once the Healer gave them the casualty numbers from the war. They just wanted to get to know her again and understand everything that had happened to her during the war. It was such a reasonable request that she couldn’t tell them no.

She wrote to Ron and Harry to let them know immediately, of course.

Ron’s response had been a single word: Fine.

Harry had shocked her by writing that he was in France with Andromeda and Teddy. He’d broken it off with Ginny and was just trying to get better. He was seeing a Mind Healer and learning French. He missed her. He wasn’t returning to Hogwarts. He was going to study with Andromeda and take his NEWTs via correspondence.

Please don’t be angry with me, Hermione. I just can’t be what the Ministry or the Order wants anymore. I need a break. I want to learn what it’s like to just be Harry, not the Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One.

Hermione had written back four pages and forgotten to dignify Ron’s single word with a response.

She fell into an easy routine with her parents. They took her to do touristy things and the three of them had every meal together. Hermione got a deep tan under the Australian sun even if it was supposedly the winter here. They would talk late into the night and cry about what Hermione had been through. When Hermione said that she would do anything to make up for using magic on them against their will, her mother wanted Hermione to choose a safe career after Hogwarts.

“No being a witch police officer or something like that, Hermione,” Jean Granger said, braiding her daughter’s hair like she had when she was small. “Something safe, that’s all I’m asking, magical librarian maybe? Maybe a primary school teacher. Something where I don’t have to worry? Please sweetheart?”

“Anything for you, mum.” Hermione turned and threw her arms around her mother. Her dad peeked in and snapped a photo with his polaroid, before they realised he was there.

*******

It was mid-August and a storm was raging outside. Her parents were getting ready to go to a retirement party for one of their local friends and Hermione was tucked up on the couch with one of her gran’s old quilts, a purring Crookshanks and a book on advanced potion-making that she thought would be helpful for her NEWTs.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, princess,” her father asked as he pulled on his coat. “You and your mum are close to the same size, although you could probably magic yourself a cocktail dress, couldn’t you?”

“Transfigure, dad. And I could, but I think I’ll just stay in and study if that’s alright?” Hermione smiled.

“Of course,” he kissed her on top of the head, “I’d tell you not to study too hard, but I know better. See you just after twelve, probably.”

“Have fun daddy,” Hermione turned back to her book, skimming the analysis of ethical methods of unicorn hair acquisition.

Her mother rushed down the stairs causing Hermione to look up, “Richard, we are going to be late and I’m supposed to do a toast.” She blew Hermione a kiss from the door and Hermione pretended to catch it and put it in her pocket. “Love you sweetheart, don’t wait up, alright?”

“No problem mum,” Hermione smiled, “But I’ll probably stay up late reading and maybe watch a film. Crooks will keep me company. You two have fun and don’t worry about me.”

“Easier said than done, bye!” Her mother called and then they were gone into the night.

Hermione returned to her book, intermittently rubbing Crookshanks’ ears as she read.

******

Hermione woke up on the couch and the house was dark, the power must have gone out. The sun was just peeking through the window. Her parents had left her sleeping in the front room? That wasn’t like them. Hermione stretched and Crookshanks jumped off her, affronted. His annoyed tail swishing made her laugh.

A pounding on the door made Hermione jump and her wand was in her hand before she could draw a breath. She walked over to the door and opened it. Two police officers stood there.

“Are you the daughter of Monica and Wendell Wilkins?” The female officer asked and at Hermione’s nod, “We have some difficult news, can we come inside?”

No. No. No. No!

************

A drunk driver had been the end of her parents when all had been said and done. He’d run the light and hit them head on. The officer tried to comfort her by telling her they’d both died instantly. The drunk driver had died at the hospital. After all that had happened, everything that Hermione had done to protect them from Death Eaters, some drunk Muggle had killed them. And she hadn’t even kissed them goodbye.

She tried to get approval to bring their bodies home via portkey, but it wasn’t approved. Hermione did not even have the energy to make an appeal. They were buried near the new home they had made, the names on the stone “Monica and Wendell Wilkins” instead of “Jean and Richard Granger.” The words below Beloved Parents. Gone Too Soon.

Hermione had packed up the house in a little under an hour once she had gotten the shrinking charms right. Everything that belonged to her parents was carefully packed into her trunk. Crookshanks was in his carrier and Hermione took one last look around and apparated to the Australian Ministry of Magic. She took a port-key back to England several hours later, arriving at the British Ministry and realising that there was no one there to meet her, because she hadn’t written in the last few days of what she would call her personal hell. She’d probably have beat an owl post here anyway and she hadn’t been able to cast a Patronus since the accident. All her happy memories were now too sad for the charm.

Luckily it was nearly 9pm in London so the Ministry was fairly empty. She floated her trunk behind her, Crookshanks’ carrier under her arm. She stopped in the Atrium, horrified at the statue that had replaced the “Magic is Might” sculpture. It was Harry, Ron and her and was labelled “The Golden Trio - Saviors of the Wizarding World.”

“Oh you’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” Hermione sighed. She already wanted to turn around and go back to Australia. She suddenly understood what must have driven Harry to go to France with Andromeda and Teddy. Rubbing her face, she reached the apparition point and in a crack arrived at her parents’ London home.

She didn’t unpack other than to release Crookshanks, who was not happy with her.

Hermione Granger, Heroine of the Wizarding World, curled up in a ball in her parents’ kitchen and wept.

***********

Informing everyone of what had happened was easier than she had thought as soon as she had apparated to the Burrow, no one was home but Molly, but the Weasley matriarch had seen how distraught Hermione was and hugged her tightly.

“I’ll handle letting people know, dear,” Molly murmured, “Let’s just get you a blanket and a spot of tea.”

Before Hermione knew it the Burrow was swarming with Weasleys. Fred and George were trying to distract her with jokes and showing off their newest inventions. Percy and Arthur came just to give their condolences and then Floo back to the Ministry to meet with the Muggle Liaison Office to arrange for burial plots and a memorial stone near her parents house with Hermione’s blessing. Hermione had been shocked at the kind way that Percy had held her hand, when he’d asked what she wanted on the stone. Hermione didn’t remember him ever touching her before.

Later when she’d gone home to get her mother’s address book, she realised that Ron had never appeared. She sat down at the phone and started making the calls to her parents’ old friends and colleagues. By the time she was done she was shaking with sobs and it was nearly dark.

A knock at the door made her flinch, but it wasn’t bad news this time, it was Fleur and Bill with dinner from Molly. Fleur held Hermione while she cried and Bill checked the wards on the property and fed a grateful Crookshanks.

A vial of Dreamless Sleep later, Hermione slept through the night. Ron still had not appeared.

********

Harry owled the next day. He’d be there Friday for the funeral, but wouldn’t stay for the wake. He invited her to come to France if she needed to get away, but with only a week to have the memorial, the wake and then head to Hogwarts, Hermione had to decline. She wasn’t sure how she could manage it with the time constraints. She promised to come over the Christmas holidays instead. Christmas in the French countryside sounded nice, although she couldn’t conjure up any real joy about it.

Molly arrived later with a repentant Ron in tow and then went to town on cleaning spells, unpacking all of Hermione’s parents' things and preparing the house for the wake. Ron sat next to Hermione on the couch, holding her hand awkwardly while she stared into space.

When the twins arrived to lend Molly a hand, Ron made some flimsy excuse and left. Hermione couldn’t even find it in herself to care. Fred and George scowled at him as he left the house and came and sat with her snug between them and put on a film on the telly. Hermione fell asleep with her head on George’s shoulder and Fred’s arm around her.

*********

The memorial service was a blur. Harry hugged her tightly and held her hand for the whole thing. Hermione couldn’t focus on anything the Vicar was saying. After the service ended, Harry tried to convince her again to come to France even if only for a few days. He frowned when she declined again but nodded and headed to the apparition point that had been set up for the memorial after giving her one last bone crushing hug. The Weasleys and the Order stood about the Muggles awkwardly. Ginny and Charlie were the only Weasleys who hadn’t come. Hermione suspected Ginny wasn’t there because Harry was, but didn’t have the energy to care.

Hermione felt numb as she sat in the black town car that had been arranged for her. Arthur and Molly were waiting for her there, both with handkerchiefs. Hermione did not cry.

Once she arrived at home, she stood woodenly near the door shaking the hands of Muggle friends of her parents and neighbours. Molly and Fleur were taking any food that had been brought and putting it on a buffet table that had been set up in the dining room. Hermione didn’t even have the energy to thank them. Her whole being was put in trying not to cry. Ron appeared in the receiving line with the Patil twins and Hermione accepted his hug and thanked the girls for coming without even really registering them.

Later when guests were starting to leave and again giving Hermione their condolences, Hermione briefly registered Pavarti and Ron coming down the stairs followed by a scowling Percy.

That was odd.

After several elderly neighbours left after telling her long drawn out stories of her parents as young newlyweds when they had first moved into the house, Hermione had forgotten all about the strangeness with people coming from upstairs during the wake.

*******

Hermione slept through the next two days. On the third day she woke up to Fleur shaking her awake with Bill nervously hovering outside her bedroom door. The Frenchwoman got Hermione to shower and then braided her hair. Hermione wept thinking of the last time that her mother had done that. When she and Fleur came downstairs, Bill was sitting with Crookshanks on his lap and a worried expression on his scarred face.

They tried to convince her to come to Shell Cottage for a few days. Hermione declined.

*********

Ron turned up after Fleur and Bill had left and took her to Diagon Alley to get her school supplies. Hermione bought the bare minimum, only getting the required books from Flourish and Blotts and opting out of Ron’s offer to take her to Fortescue’s for ice cream or out to dinner. They stopped into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes for a minute, but it was too crowded for Hermione and despite Fred trying to wave her over, she asked Ron to go home. When Ron kissed her on the cheek on her front porch, Hermione felt nothing.

She went inside and cried herself to sleep.

********

It seemed like a blink of an eye before Hermione was standing on Platform 9 ¾, hugging Molly and Arthur goodbye. Ron hugged her too before telling her he had to head to the Ministry for work. Ginny headed onto the train and Hermione was about to follow her when Fred grabbed her arm.

“Hermione, read this on the train,” he said, scowling at Ron’s back as he walked away. “I’ve been trying to get you alone to talk to you and it just hasn’t happened.” He hugged her tightly and then stepped back so George could do the same.

She took the letter and tucked it into her tote bag. Bill was giving her trunk to one of the porters. Fleur grabbed her in a tight embrace and kissed both of Hermione’s cheeks.

“We are just a Floo call away, ‘ermione,” Fleur whispered and repeated her offer to come to Shell Cottage any time. Hermione nodded and took herself and Crookshanks onto the train. Bill watched her, looking concerned as George pulled him to the side to whisper something in his ear.

**************

Hermione sat in the compartment with Ginny, Dean and Seamus and exchanged polite greetings with the other Gryffindors before remembering the letter in her bag. When she opened it, all the air left her body.

Hermione,

I’m so sorry. We wanted to tell you in person the other day when you came by the shop, but then you disappeared before we could. Please forgive us.

Ron’s been cheating on you. Perce caught him at the wake and then we caught him the other night at the Leaky. He’s been seeing Pavarti. We’re so bloody sorry. You don’t deserve this. You deserve a bloody sight more than our wanker of a brother. We’re gonna hex the shite out of him, don’t you worry. Keep your chin up.

All our love,

Forge

“What’s that ‘Mione?” Ginny asked, looking curiously at the letter over her shoulder, unaware of the building rage that was burning through the numbness that had been swallowing Hermione whole.

Hermione crushed the letter in her fist and shoved it back into her bag.

“Ron’s been cheating on me.” Hermione said, clenching her jaw. She looked at Ginny’s face and saw the guilt there. “You knew!” Hermione accused.

Ginny shook off the look of guilt, and the redhead’s temper flared, “You can’t expect fidelity from a young Pureblood wizard before a marriage contract has been signed. And you left the country. What was he supposed to do?”

“He was supposed to wait! I went to get my parents’ memories back. I trusted him!” Hermione yelled. Dean and Seamus looked like they wanted to disappear into the seat cushion.

“Purebloods sow their oats before marriage,” Ginny sneered condescendingly, “You’d know that if you were raised in our culture.”

That was more than enough for Hermione who jumped up. She couldn’t stand to be in the compartment with Ginny for one second longer, she pulled the door open with the force of her anger, rattling the metal as it slammed. She turned back and glared at Ginny, ignoring Dean and Seamus.

“You know what, Ginny? Fuck Ronald and fuck you!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Theo had never cared less about the sorting ceremony and welcome back speeches than he had that night. He’d managed to run his hand along the small of Hermione Granger’s back as he’d entered the great hall, when she’d paused for a moment in the doorway. The look that she had given him in response had been equal parts venom and desire. Theo smirked at her.

She’d angrily stomped off to the Gryffindor table, leaving him to laughingly follow Draco to Slytherin. A single finger on Draco’s wrist was all it took to have the blonde whimper in desire.

“Sit and be good,” Theo whispered, “I’ll reward you later.”

Draco swallowed and sat. Theo kept his hand on Draco’s thigh for most of the meal. Noone commented on it. Goyle and Blaise were ribbing each other over potential marriage contracts, each offering more and more outlandish suggestions over whose father’s they should contact. Pansy looked a thousand miles away staring at the Gryffindor table, while Daphne was chattering away not realising her friend wasn’t present for her story of shopping in France over the summer before Astoria was settled into the school year at Beauxbatons.

At Astoria’s name, Theo tensed and looked at Draco with narrowed eyes. Draco looked away, blushing.

“What was that about Astoria, Daph?” Theo asked, turning towards Daphne.

“She’s going to be going to Beauxbatons this year, she’s embarrassed Draco’s father found out about her little problem and revoked the marriage contract before it was finalised,” Daphne said smugly, always jealous of her little sister.

“Little problem?” Theo asked, squeezing Draco’s leg. If Draco had shagged her before the contracts had been signed, Theo didn’t know what he was going to do. His fangs felt like they were trying to come down and he bit his cheek and tried to stay calm. “What little problem?”

“Well,” Daphne said conspiratorially, looking around, “She has a blood curse. It won’t be fatal unless she gets pregnant, but it’s hereditary so…” She laughed maliciously. “Lord Malfoy tore up the contract, right Draco?”

Draco only shrugged, still not participating in the conversation about his almost betrothed.

Daphne missed Pansy’s hand going to her stomach and all the colour leaving her face, but Theo didn’t.

“She’s your sister, so don’t you have it as well?” Theo asked, meeting Daphne’s eyes, keeping her distracted while Pansy composed herself.

“Oh no,” Daphne gave a self-satisfied smirk, “The Healer at St. Mungo’s said that there is no sign that I have the curse nor that I will pass it on. Seems to have skipped me altogether.”

“How wonderful for you,” Theo drawled, wishing this meal was already over.

Across the room he saw that Hermione was sitting near the first year Gryffindors instead of with the seventh and eighth years, she looked as though she was happily answering questions and telling them stories. Theo wished that he could hear what she was saying. He loved the sound of her voice - he always enjoyed listening to her speak in class. She was always so clever. Her tone and intonation were so precise whether with a setdown or a fact. He wondered now if the Veela part of himself had known all along that she was meant for him.

He gave her an appreciative once over and noticed that she was missing the Head Girl badge. What on earth? Theo looked over and saw it on Ginevra Weasley, who was arrogantly showing it off to the rest of her table mates.

What in the name of Salazar’s favourite whore was that about?

************

Theo allowed one of his claws to emerge and had ripped the other man’s clothes from neck to crotch and then torn it asunder. Theo threw a naked Draco onto the bed, where he landed on his back. Theo climbed up and loomed over him. He was larger than Draco and it was so different, but he found it quite erotic. Draco was by no means a small man, but Theo was just bigger, in every way.

Draco’s panting breaths came swiftly then, his voice wobbled as he whispered with wide eyes, “Theo?”

Gripping Draco’s throat, Theo took a moment to breathe in his beloved’s air, lips only centimetres apart, the tension palpable.

Theo let his wings rip through his shirt, their black feathers filling the room. His fangs slid down into his mouth.

“Theo?” Draco whispered, the awe taking over his voice.

“Do you know what I am, love?” Theo whispered, nipping at Draco’s bottom lip. “Why I got so tall and broad and thick,” Theo rubbed his crotch against Draco, “since the last time that I saw you.”

“You are a Veela,” Draco’s pupils were blown wide, his nipples hard as Theo’s own muscular chest teased Draco’s nipples.

“That’s right my love and you are my mate,” Theo whispered. “And I’m going to claim you tonight. There can be no doubt to whom you belong. You are mine. Isn’t that right, dragon?”

Draco nodded desperately, “I’ve always been yours Theo always.”

Theo’s hand slid up from Draco’s throat and stroked his jawline, “That’s my good boy. I love you so much. I couldn’t be happier that you are my mate.” Theo’s thumb ran tender circles over Draco’s cheekbone, “My treasure. My secret. My dragon.” Theo claimed Draco’s lips and made the man beneath him moan in desire.

The Veela pheromones filled the room and Draco’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as he drowned in sensation.

He started to kick off his trousers, but then just vanished them to make this easier.

Theo licked his palm and softly teased the tip of Draco’s cock. Draco arched into his touch. Theo cast a lubrication spell on Draco’s arsehole as he kissed and sucked at Draco’s neck marking his territory. “You are never allowed to hide my marks, do you understand Draco?”

Draco nodded, his hands going over Theo’s shoulders to pull him closer, his naked legs wrapping around Theo’s waist. “Please Daddy, please.”

“Mmmm, Do you want Daddy to take care of his good boy,” Theo whispered as he nipped at Draco’s earlobe. "Did you miss Daddy's cock inside of you?"

"Fuck Theo, you know I did." Draco shivered beneath him as Theo lined up his cock. "I haven't been with anyone else, since the last time that you and I…"

"I'm larger than the last time," Theo purred, licking Draco’s nipple, nipping at it with his teeth. "Can you handle it? Have you been playing with your arse my love?"

"Uh huh," Draco admitted, "I can take you, please Daddy give it to me."

"That's what I wanted to hear my love," Theo guided himself inside Draco slowly, the tightness around his cock making him go achingly slow, casting a relaxation charm and a second lubrication charm. He didn't want to hurt his beloved, even if he did know a couple of spells to heal tears, they still hurt. Theo would never willingly hurt his mate. Either of them.

*******

Draco barely breathed as Theo sheathed himself inside him. He'd never felt so full. And the way Theo smelled, it was like he was drowning in bliss. Theo slid in and out of him, hitting that spot inside him that caused his cock to twitch and his balls to ache with every thrust. Draco was seeing constellations in his pleasure.

And just as Draco was about to cum, Theo thrust achingly slowly, while he leaned down and whispered into Draco’s ear," I'm going to make Granger our wife, I know how long you've wanted her, Dragon. How you’ve fisted your cock as you thought of her knuckles on your jaw. How you’ve imagined burying yourself in her wet cunt. Here’s a secret, love. She's my mate too. It will be the three of us. I'll make sure of that. Do you want that, love?"

Draco would have agreed to anything at this moment, but the image of Hermione Granger being in his bed, as his wife, their wife, with Theo in his new form, was too much for Draco and he started to cum, his cock shooting his spend onto Theo’s chest. Theo grinned and teased Draco’s neck with his fangs. As Draco finished orgasming, Theo bit his skin finally drawing blood, claiming him. It felt divine. It was almost too much for Draco to take.

And seemingly impossible, Draco came again shaking like a leaf while Theo filled his arse with his own seed. Theo's possessive growls of "mine, mine, mine" heating his skin were the last thing that Draco was aware of as the pleasure dragged him under and the whole world faded to black.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

The light from the window was pale lavender when Draco woke up to Theo humming softly and drawing runes on his lower back. Theo’s cool fingertips made him shiver with desire.

“Finally awake Dragon?” Theo smiled, chin in one palm, as Draco looked over his shoulder at the other young man.

Draco gave a noncommittal grunt, wriggling closer to Theo’s body, Theo’s naked body.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Theo asked breathing into Draco’s neck and kissing him lightly where the bite mark stood bright against the unblemished porcelain of Draco’s skin. “No secrets, Dragon.”

"I'm supposed to have a trial and might go to Azkaban. I'm allowed to be a little stressed Theo, especially when I deserve to be punished." Draco sighed and turned his face into the pillow.

"Oh is that all?" Theo pulled Draco closer and wrapped his arms about Draco’s middle.

"All?" Draco squeaked and before he could throw a full Malfoy tantrum and ruin their morning cuddle session, Theo covered Draco’s mouth.

"Stop worrying. They can put you on probation but you can't be sent to Azkaban."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dragon, I'm a protected species. You are my marked mate and you accepted our bond. I will quite literally die without you. They aren't taking you anywhere. And if they tried the Veela would tear the Ministry down with its bare hands. I’ll write to my solicitor today. It will all be handled very hush hush, so I don't want you to worry. Legally, they can’t take you away from me."

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. What do you say to a little physical affection before breakfast,” Theo kissed Draco’s throat, sucking behind his ear and leaving a little bruise. “You are so pretty. Do you feel how hard you’ve gotten me?” Theo pressed his erection into Draco’s back.

Draco let out a low moan and Theo rolled on top of him, taking that sound as a yes. Kissing his mate deeply, Theo nipped his lip and toyed with his nipples and rubbed their hard cocks together until they both came grunting in pleasure. Theo rolled over onto his back and had Draco lick him clean before giving his mate the same treatment, going further down and taking all of Draco’s length into his mouth until the blonde came again down Theo’s throat. Draco immediately fell back asleep and Theo snuck out to his own room to get cleaned up and dressed for the day, but not before kissing Draco one more time on his temple.

Theo was grateful that claiming Draco had been so painless. He’d have to be careful though, Draco was so likely to tantrum that it was only a matter of time before Theo had to soothe his lover. He needed to keep his mate happy and convince his other mate to accept him.

Theo felt slightly less confident this morning and wondered if some Felicis Felixis would be a good investment.

***********

Waking up after several rounds of nightmares, Hermione appreciated the separate eighth year dorm and having a private bedroom that she could put wards and silencing charms on more than she could say. Especially when she learned that Ginny couldn’t come in unless someone invited her despite being Head Girl, a title that she had thrown in Hermione’s face last night at dinner.

Hermione had seriously considered stabbing Ginny with one of the eating knives. Hermione had wanted to be Head Girl. She had worked for it her entire Hogwarts career and to have the Headmistress take it away from her just because she was repeating a year when last year would have been her shot at Head Girl.

She’d been on the run with Harry last year. How did that make any sense? Hermione realised that it was probably just anti-Muggleborn sentiment rearing its ugly head again. No surprises there.

At least she still had a private bathroom and if it wasn't as nice as the Head Suite’s bath, she tried to tell herself that she did not care.

She was showered and dressed before she even heard the sounds of anyone else moving around. She had thought she’d heard someone having sex last night, but they’d remembered their sound wards before she’d heard more than a moan or two. The sounds had gone right to her core though and she’d found herself turned on. She’d taken matters into her own hands, something she rarely had to do, but her fantasy lover (who looked disturbingly like Theo Nott) had made her orgasm so hard that she thought that adding masturbation to her daily timetable for the stress relief might be a good plan.

She peeked out her door, planning to head down to coffee before having to deal with anyone, especially Dean or Seamus, both of whom had seen her outburst yesterday on the train. She’d like to avoid Theo Nott as well, considering her bizarre reaction to him yesterday on the train as well as the fact that she’d fantasised about him touching her last night. She’d probably die of embarrassment the next time she ran into him.

Carefully, while wishing she had Harry’s map and the invisibility cloak, she started to sneak through the eighth year common room.

A voice in the corner startled her.

“And what,” Theodore Nott said, smiling as he leaned against the fireplace mantle, “Is the Golden Girl doing up this early? Up to something naughty?”

Hermione felt her face flame.

*******

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

“Of course I am not,” Hermione snarled, her voice sounding defensive even to her own ears. “I’m just heading down to breakfast early. I want a coffee. Not that I need to explain myself to you, Nott.”

Nott smiled at her in a way that made her heart do an uncomfortable flip.

“There’s a kitchenette here in the dorm Granger. You don't have to go all the way down to the Great Hall for coffee. Come on.” He walked away from her and she was horribly tempted to use that moment to slip away from him, but Hermione refused to let him think that she was afraid of him.

He was already pouring her a cup of coffee before she joined him in the kitchenette as though he had assumed that she would follow.

“Cream? Sugar?” Nott asked, looking at her expectantly. “I’ll remember after this,”

His concern gave her a warm feeling inside that made her feel uncomfortable.

“Cream. One sugar.”

Nott prepared her coffee and Hermione couldn’t help, but watch his hands as he mixed and scooped. His long fingers with their rings made her bite her lip. His face was concentrating on his task, and with his beard and sparkling eyes, he was so attractive. He made her feel things that no one else had - not even Ron.

He handed her the cup and smiled at her. “There you are, Granger. Have a good morning now.”

He walked away. And she stood there in the kitchen, perfect cup of coffee in her hand, not sure what to do.

She had been trying to escape him and now he’d just left. She’d thought she would have to argue with him or … something to get him to go.

She drank the coffee and stared off into space where Theodore Nott had been moments before.

*********

Theo watched her across the Great Hall as she read a book ignoring all the other lions that surrounded her. They were truly leagues beneath her and somewhere inside her, Hermione Granger had to know it. She was the cleverest and bravest of them by far.

He was impressed as she wandlessly levitated her book so that she could continue to read while she fixed herself another cup of coffee just the same as he had made for her this morning.

He knew that she could feel his eyes on her, but she was fighting the urge to look in his direction. She had a very strong will. Theo liked that about her, he liked a lot of things about her if he was being honest with himself, even before his Veela nature came out.

Draco was still subdued next to him, despite Theo’s reassurances. At this point Theo would almost prefer a good strop compared to the bland and noncommittal way that Draco responded to everyone's attempts to draw him into conversation.

Greg was waxing poetic about Millie's better qualities and Blaise was trying not to roll his eyes. Daphne hadn't bothered to get up in time for breakfast and was probably applying her twentieth beauty charm back in her dorm room.

Pansy was pretending to eat, but hadn't done more than sip her weak tea. Theo was starting to get concerned. This wasn't like her. She was fiery and sometimes rude, but never hopeless. Pansy’s eyes were flat as though the reason for her being alive was gone. He knew that her father had gone to Azkaban, but so many of theirs at the Slytherin table had that it wasn't any sort of a big deal. He watched her carefully and her eyes were on the Gryffindor table again.

Who was she looking at?

*********

The morning started for the eighth years with double potions, those that had scored high enough on their OWLs anyway. Because there were so few it was a combined class with the seventh years of all houses. So Ernie McMillan and Luna Lovegood along with Michael Corner and a couple other Ravenclaws that Draco didn't care about sat towards the front on the right.

Dead centre was Granger with the seat next to her empty for some reason.

Who wouldn't want to be Granger’s partner? She was second only to him in Potions.

Thomas and Weaslette were behind her. How that crass little cow had become Head Girl Draco couldn't understand. If his father had still been on the Board of Governors…well his father was to blame for a great deal of this mess, wasn't he?

The Hufflepuff contingent was only Abbott and Bones, no surprises there and Abbott had barely squeaked in.

Theo was sitting next to Blaise already as Draco stood in the doorway and Pansy was next to Greg which had Daphne in a tizzy where she was sitting next to Millie. Daphne was being bloody awful so Draco could understand why Pansy didn't want to sit by her. The glee Daphne had gotten out of Astoria’s loss of the marriage contract was a bit sickening. To be fair, Draco was pleased as punch that he didn't have to marry Astoria, he hadn't been particularly enamoured of the idea, because of Theo for one, but also because he just felt nothing when he looked at her. Shouldn't you feel something for your future wife?

There was only one witch who had ever really stirred his blood and she was sitting up in front without a partner.

Draco caught Theo’s eye. Theo subtly gestured towards the empty seat up front.

Draco gathered his courage and walked forward sliding onto the stool next to Granger. She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say anything uncivil when he nodded in her direction in greeting.

When Slughorn entered and announced that their table mate would be their potions partner for the term, Draco could not find it in himself to be sorry. He didn’t look at Granger’s face though. He didn't think he could stomach the revulsion that must have been there.

**********

Potions partners with Draco Malfoy. No Head Girl post. Dealing with Ginny and her rude little petty insults. And whatever the bloody hell the business with Nott was, he had watched her eat breakfast for Merlin's sake.

Hermione wasn't sure what she had done to deserve all this now that she was back at Hogwarts. She missed her mum and her dad. Sometimes she wished that she had gone out with them that night in Australia, then she wouldn't have had to live without them.

She felt adrift. She wanted more than anything to have this school year over and settled.

So she did what always made her feel better, she went to the library. Madam Pince was overjoyed to see her and that felt nice. It was early enough in the year that no one else was haunting the library yet.

Hermione asked about books on post Hogwarts careers and sat down with a few guidebooks on choosing a magical career that had been written in the last few decades.

By the time Hermione came up from her research bubble she realised that she had missed lunch. Hermione had dismissed becoming an Auror, Magizoologist, dragon rehabilitation healer and four different branches of the Ministry as being too dangerous. Her mother had only asked that she choose a career that wasn't going to get her hurt or killed. Hermione was determined to honour that last request no matter what. It was really the least she could do.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

“I suspected I would find you here, Granger,” Theo smiled, sitting the picnic basket next to her stacks of reading material.

She looked up at him in annoyance. “Nott, what are you going here?”

He leaned against the table on one elbow and sighed, “You missed lunch.”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Hermione growled.

Such a fierce little lioness, but she was certainly unused to anyone taking care of her.

“Granger, the whole wizarding world owes you. I can’t simply let you waste away to nothing.”

“And you can’t bring food in here anyway, because it's a library, in case that missed your notice.” Her voice was scornful and Theo loved it. He wanted her to try to put him in his place, she’d fail, but he’d enjoy every attempt.

“Actually Madam Pince is as concerned about your eating as I am,” Theo smiled trying to put her at ease, trying to keep a hold on his Veela pheromones. He could soothe her just a little, make her feel more calm, but he didn’t want her going glassy eyed with lust.

Theo didn’t think she was ready for that. He needed to take his time with her, as much as possible anyway. He wasn't particularly keen on dying, but he still wanted her to choose him, not just the Veela.

Hermione scoffed, but opened the basket and pulled out a sandwich and thermos of tea.

“Where did you find a muggle thermos?”

“Is that what it is?” Theo smiled, answering her question with a question. “Enjoy your lunch, Granger. I will see you later.”

He could feel her eyes on him as he left the library. Madam Pince was hiding a grin behind a book at her desk, and Theo thought that the librarian would be an excellent accomplice in the wooing of one Hermione Granger.

********

Ancient Runes was followed by Astronomy and both classes had Theodore Nott in them. He opened the doors for her, he pulled out her chair in Ancient Runes. He offered to carry her book bag which earned him a glare.

Malfoy was in both of those classes as well. In contrast to all the years that Hermione had ever known him, now he was quiet and subdued. She kept expecting him to insult her hair or make some degrading comment. He just listened to the lectures and took notes. His hair was longer than she’d seen it before and it suited him. He frequently ran his hands through it so it looked a little messy, but in a ridiculous French model messy not messy like Harry.

Occasionally Hermione thought that Malfoy was only doodling in the margins. She couldn't help herself and had managed to sneak a peek during astronomy and what she had thought were doodles were actually an elaborately drawn star map. Malfoy looked up and caught her looking at his work. He raised an eyebrow at her and she blushed and turned away, embarrassed to be caught looking.

***********

Astronomy was released before dinner and later in the term they'd have to return for night laboratories after dinner, making Wednesday a nightmarish schedule for Draco and Theo. They were the only Slytherins in Advanced Ancient Runes and only Blaise and Millie were in Advanced Astronomy. The Ravenclaws were in all three classes of course, and Hermione Granger. She already looked exhausted and the term had barely started, Draco knew he was. He had drawn a constellation map that included all his family names for four generations in order to stay awake in Astronomy.

Thank Salazar that he had dropped Care of Magical Creatures which was tomorrow morning, so he could get some sleep.

The way that Theo had been watching him all afternoon made Draco think that he might not be allowed to sleep until it was much later tonight. Although, in no way was he complaining. Submitting to Theo, being so lost in pleasure that everything else drifted away, that was bliss. It was an escape better than occlumency and Draco craved it.

A few students ahead of him a familiar bushy head stopped outside the Great Hall doors for a minute, forcing the crowd to flow around her, and Draco thought she was going to walk in the opposite direction. Her body was so tense.

"Granger, are you going back to your dorm room? I can always bring you dinner," offered Theo, his breath skating over Draco’s neck as he spoke.

She stiffened and turned, glaring at Theo. "I do not need you to feed me," she bit out.

Theo leaned closer to her and the tension between them made Draco’s cock ache. "Prove it then Granger or I swear to you, I will make sure you eat somehow."

She stomped off into the Great Hall and towards the Gryffindor table. Theo’s laughter did not die down until she had gotten too far from them to hear it.

Draco couldn't help but notice that she sat with the first and second years rather than the seventh and eighth years again. Only Longbottom seemed concerned about it too, his eyes looking down the length of the table at Granger worried.

Draco's eyes kept flitting to her during their meal. Theo had to have noticed, but he must have meant what he said about wanting her too, because he didn't go cold as ice or any of his other jealous tells.

Draco pursed his lips again wondering why on earth Granger was eating with the infants. Theo's lips at Draco’s ear whispered, "We will find out what's going on Draco. Something is going on with our witch."

"She isn't ours yet." Draco whispered back.

"Only a matter of time, my dragon." Theo smiled that sensual smile that made Draco’s stomach do flips and he stared down at his plate missing Daphne and Blaise's speculative glances.

**********

Weaslette made a terrible Head Girl. She was selfish and vain, obsessed with her own importance. She didn't help firsties or look out for others, but she did delegate well. She had the prefects on their knees for her, which would have been attractive to Slytherin men like Blaise, if she hadn’t been so garish. Her speech was crass, her intellect poor and her dower funds sure to be non-existent. At least that's what Blaise told Theo over a fire whiskey in front of the eighth year common room fireplace.

Theo had already sent Draco to bed with directions to get himself naked and prepare for him. Theo could feel the anticipation through the bond.

So Blaise and Theo were alone although Blaise had cast a privacy charm for good measure. It wasn't as though they trusted their fellow eighth years very much, or at all really.

"So Ginevra is off the table in the marriage considerations," Theo mused, "Who else has your eye?"

"There's Daph." Blaise topped off his glass.

"She's a nightmare and would be a terrible wife," Theo pointed out. "And if Greg doesn't have a signed contract with Millie before September is done, I'll eat my favourite hat."

"Good for them honestly, but Millie was never in the running for me," Blaise continued, "Tracy and McMillan are in negotiations already. He's given her earrings and she's wearing them daily."

"Brash, but effective." Theo had to take his hat off to the girl.

"He can't keep his eyes off them on her." Blaise laughed. "I've considered Pansy as she wasn't indifferent to me in the past, but these days I might as well be the wall for the amount of attention that she gives me."

Theo made a thoughtful sound, but didn't comment, sipping his fire whiskey and wondering what the hell was up with the Slytherin Princess these days.

"So Pansy isn't entirely off the table, but she isn't high on the list either. No Hufflepuffs of interest obviously. The Patil twins have the breeding necessary, but I can't tell them apart so I have no idea which I'd prefer. I did like Lavender and might have offered for her; she was pretty, clever and came with excellent family connections. My seventh year Liaison gone to waste."

"You didn't actually?" Theo asked, surprised.

"Of course not, but she was one hell of a kisser." Blaise sighed, "I do think I may rather fancy blondes. Which keeps Daphne on the table."

"There's Lovegood. Her father owns the Quibbler and despite how far fetched it is, the readership isn't small. One would expect her husband might take over such an enterprise. And do you remember that little dress she wore for Slughorn's party."

Blaise mused to himself. "Her skin was flawless like milk."

"She never broke under torture either," Theo pointed out, "That's a quality your mother would like to see you have in a wife. And I’m almost positive she’d be able to do a full bonding ritual for the wedding."

"I'll speak with her a bit. I don't think I have to any degree that matters. We'll see if there is any energy between us. I’m not going to stop looking around though I may need to expand the search to Beauxbatons, as now I have an in because Astoria is there. I wonder if she would be up for some matchmaking.” Blaise leaned back, crossing his leg over his knee, “And of course Chang moved out of the country. And obviously Granger is out."

"And why is that Blaise?" Theo attempted to keep the rage out of his tone. Hermione was his.

"Theo, you took her a picnic lunch today. You and Draco were both staring at her and we both know Lucius would never allow that so it must be you," Blaise rolled his eyes, "You fancy her. And she's not a bad choice, not a great one, but you have a benefit most of us don't."

Theo raised an eyebrow while he stood to head to bed.

"You can marry to please yourself. The rest of us have parents we need to please."

Blaise nodded to his friend and then stared thoughtfully at the crackling fire long after Theo had disappeared.

Chapter Text

Having Draco naked and waiting in his bed was never going to get old to Theo, not even when they were a hundred and seventeen. The pretty blond was laid back on Theo’s pillows like an offering, everything about him pale and perfect.

Quickly locking the door, Theo took several strides and ripped his clothes off, tossing them to the floor, before crawling over the bed until he was on top of Draco. Theo held himself above Draco, balancing on his elbows placed on either side of Draco’s head.

"Hey." Draco smiled up at Theo. "Glad you were able to join me."

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting terribly long," Theo smiled and then leaned down to kiss Draco, drinking him in like Amortentia.

Kisses and caresses turned into more, Draco’s back arching as he begged so prettily, pleading to be filled.

Who was Theo to deny his mate?

**********

The following morning was Thursday and Theo was already beginning to have real reservations about his course schedule. He had to leave Draco curled up in his bed, all warm, a soft flush making his pale skin look good enough to eat. Instead Theo went down to breakfast, alone.

Blaise was already there and greeted him with a small nod, an indication that he had not yet had enough coffee.

“Need a hangover potion?” Theo asked, sliding in next to him and pouring himself a cup and sweetening it liberally today. “How late did you stay up drinking?”

“Too late,” Blaise groused. “I was considering my prospects and the glasses got away from me. This morning I received an owl and Mother expects me to have a negotiation in process by winter holidays or she’ll put her hand in. I’m lucky she’s giving me any time at all to find my own bride, but the thought of her choosing a young woman with similar proclivities is leaving me a bit cold, to be perfectly honest.”

Theo nodded, Blaise’s mother had a higher body count than many of the Death Eaters who had gone to Azkaban for life. And they'd nearly all been her husband's, with Blaise her only child, that would make the threat of her loving intervention a bit terrifying.

“What’s the answer then?” Theo asked, as he plated himself some breakfast.

“I have to find someone here at Hogwarts who will suit and I need to do it quickly.”

*************

Theo and Blaise walked down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where the Abraxan stables, thestral pens and the outdoor classroom for Care of Magical Creatures was located. Theo still wasn’t entirely sure why he was still taking the class.

An easy NEWT? Maybe the fact that he was a magical creature now and he wondered what his peers would be learning about him, if the topic of Veelas even came up.

He and Blaise were the only Slytherins in the class as everyone else had dropped it. At this point, Theo thought that they may have the right idea. He imagined Draco, well fucked and sleeping in his bed. The smell of Theo’s cum was all over his skin and the Irresistible musk of Draco’s natural scent would be melting into the linens and pillows.

Theo could be there right now, arms wrapped around Draco, his face in his hair, surrounded by the natural scent of petrichor that was his mate.

What possessed him to keep this class? Maybe he could still drop it?

And then the scent of old books, vanilla and ink enveloped his senses and there was Hermione Granger standing with Luna Lovegood. Her curls were full today and the sunlight through the trees was dappled on her freckled cheeks.

Ah yes, that was why.

Theo fought against his Veela’s natural urge to go to her, he wanted to make sure that she was well cared for and that she had eaten. Did she need anything? Did she need him?

Sweet Circe he wanted to worship her skin.

She was golden everywhere her uniform revealed, but Theo wondered if her little quim was golden or was it a pretty pink like her full lips.

"Salazar's sake, Theo stop staring," Blaise hissed. "And close your mouth, you are drooling."

Snapping his jaw shut, Theo groused “I am not drooling.”

Blaise laughed, “If you say so mate.”

This was going to be a very long school year, but if Theo got to be near Hermione then it would be worth pulling himself out of bed on Thursday mornings. Theo pretended that he didn’t notice when Blaise abandoned him to go speak to Luna, bowing over her hand and kissing her knuckles.

The ethereal blonde gave the Italian an intrigued expression, but didn’t flash one of her smiles. She said something and Blaise’s genuine laughter rang through the cool morning.

Theo had been half kidding when he had suggested Luna for Blaise, but seeing the chemistry between the two of them, perhaps he’d subconsciously noticed something. Maybe opposites do attract and the two of them really would suit. She was eccentric, but beautiful and kind with a core of iron. She'd been held at Malfoy Manor longer than anyone else and hadn't broken. It was impressive and just the sort of thing that would get Signora Zabini's approval. That woman was a dragon, even Theo was a little afraid of her.

Blaise and Luna's conversation must have become too much for Hermione as she rolled her eyes and walked away, sitting on a tree stump with her text book. Theo couldn't help but stare at the way her long fingers ran over the page.

He wanted those long fingers on his skin. How long was he going to have to wait?

*******

Hermione was second guessing coming back to Hogwarts at all, between whatever weirdness had possessed Theodore Nott, Ginny being the worst sort of Head Girl and trying to push it in her face as much as possible, that Ron was a cheating arsehole, and the fact that her parents were dead had her feeling physically ill.

She didn't even want to eat. The idea made her head swim and she wanted to cry.

Running on autopilot instead of sitting with the firsties as she had made her new habit, Hermione sat down at the seventh year end of the Gryffindor table after she’d walked in with Luna, who was talking Hermione’s ear off about Blaise Zabini.

What was possessing everyone?

Zabini was a Slytherin who hadn't really fought in the war, but he was friends with Malfoy. Hermione looked up and caught those steel grey eyes on her. She looked away from that uncanny gaze.

Neville sat next to her and gave her a smile, "Nice to see you on this end of the table for a change. How was Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Alright I guess," Hermione replied with a smile, "Why weren't you there?"

"I'm Sprout's teacher's assistant for the first and second years. I'm apprenticing and the plan is when she retires in a year or two that I'll take over for her." Neville's smile was much more confident than Hermione had ever seen it.

"Neville, that's fantastic! I'm so glad that you have figured out what you want to do. I wish I had, it's really a challenge." Hermione stared at the food on the table, not finding any of it in the least bit appetising.

"If anyone can do anything it's you Hermione," Neville pointed out as he poured her pumpkin juice and then his own.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Do what?" Neville asked, pausing mid pour.

"Pour my juice?" Hermione gestured at her cup.

"It's proper etiquette. If I was courting you, I'd plate your food too, but I'm not and if I did, Hannah would probably get jealous. And not in a good way." Neville scowled at the thought.

"You and Hannah, hmm, the one in Hufflepuff?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"Yeah," Neville blushed, "it's still really new and I'm not sure how I feel about her yet, but she's really convinced that I'm her forever person." He sighed. "I'm under a lot of pressure from my gran right now to secure a marriage contract before we leave Hogwarts. It's a nightmare really. I'd like to be able to take more time to decide who I want to be with. Wizarding marriages are forever after all."

"We are only eighteen! That's so antiquated!" Hermione cried out, disturbed.

"Not really. I get why Gran is concerned. Purebloods aren't generally very fertile, if I want a chance at having an heir it needs to happen sooner rather than later. I don't have any siblings nor cousins. I'm it. The last of my house. I'd like to have at least two children if my wife can manage it. I just don't know that I want Hannah to be that wife."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, "Honestly Pureblood culture is so Victorian, it's like you all are insects trapped in amber."

"Pureblood culture isn't all bad, Hermione." Neville pointed out before biting into a meat pie. “I mean you want kids eventually too, right?”

Hermione shrugged, but then her peace was shattered by Ginny Weasley and her entourage as they sat down.

"The Head Boy ought to have been Harry, then I wouldn't be stuck with having to listen to that Hufflepuff drone on and on about responsibilities and requirements. It's quite annoying." Ginny flipped her hair over her shoulder. “He even dared to tell me that I shouldn’t delegate so much work to the prefects. Why have the power over them if I am not going to use it?”

Seamus made some noise that Ginny took as agreement, so she continued, “If I do everything myself I won’t have time for being the Quidditch captain and that has to be a priority too. If we want Gryffindor to get the House Cup this year. Head Girl is meant to delegate to others. It’s practically an unwritten law.”

Hermione snorted. "Godric forbid you should have any responsibilities as Head Girl, Gin." She immediately knew that she had made a mistake because Ginny's face turned bright red. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

“You’re just jealous, ‘Mione!” Ginny sneered.

“Jealous? Of what exactly, Ginevra,” Hermione rolled her eyes at her former friend. “You have nothing that I want.”

“Everyone thinks so! Mom, Ron, all of Gryffindor knows that you are jealous that I EARNED Head Girl. I’m so sorry Golden Girl that you didn’t win it by default. Just because you kept Harry company last year on the horcrux hunt doesn’t mean you deserve Head Girl! Harry did all the heavy lifting while you sat back and what? Hope he would notice you? Ron told me all about the two of you and YOUR pining looks at MY BOYFRIEND!”

“Ex-Boyfriend Ginny,” Hermione sighed, “Harry is your ex-boyfriend. And I certainly never pined after him. He’s like a brother. It would be incestuous and I’m no Pureblood Princess to want to marry her brother.” Hermione didn’t know where the venom of that last had come from, but she was so angry she could feel the magic beneath her skin.

“You filthy little bitch,” Ginny hissed, “How dare you! I’m so glad that you aren’t with my brother anymore. You weren’t nearly good enough for a Pureblood wizard like him.”

Hermione’s hair started to spark and she opened her mouth to say something else, but then Neville pulled her away. "Come on Hermione, we have Herbology next. Let's go."

Hermione let herself be dragged away, but Ginny mouthed the word, “cunt” at her and Hermione nearly threw off Neville’s arm and punched the Head Girl in the face, but she caught Theodore Nott staring across the Great Hall like he was ready to jump the table and get involved.

That was the last thing that she needed. It would feed the gossip mill for weeks. So instead of allowing her violent impulse free reign she let Neville lead her away.

******

Weaslette and his Hermione were still clearly at odds. Theo wished more than anything that he could hear what insults they’d been throwing at each other, because the two witches had looked murderous.

Theo watched Hermione leave the Great Hall with Longbottom pulling her along. The tension in Pansy was so tight that Draco could have used her as a harp string. Theo scowled in Longbottom's direction and especially on his hand on Theo’s mate.

Once Theo arrived at the Herbology greenhouse Hermione was already there with Longbottom as her partner, joking and smiling. Theo wanted all of those smiles, he wanted them to be his. He felt the Veela inside him, begging him to do something. This man was trying to steal his mate. It couldn't be borne.

Theo tried to push down his Veela instincts, but seeing Hermione putting her hand on Longbottom's forearm had his whole body taut. Longbottom poked her in the shoulder and she laughed so loudly that the sound was like torture to his ears. She should be laughing like that for him. His fangs started to descend and his back began to itch at his shoulder blades.

A soothing hand on his arm brought Theo back to reality.

“Theo,” Draco whispered, “please - don’t.” Theo looked up into those perfect silver eyes and nodded. His other mate was right here, he needed Theo. Theo wanted to stroke his cheek, touch him. He took a deep breath instead and repotted the belladonna seedlings in front of him.

**********

As class was ending, Draco met Theo’s eyes and tried to let the invitation that he was offering be apparent. Nostrils flaring, Theo followed after him when Draco ducked into one of the greenhouses that wasn’t in use. Draco hurried down the aisles between overgrown plants until he came to an empty table. He shook it to be sure that it was sturdy enough, and as he turned about Theo was on him, kissing, grasping and pushing.

Draco’s back arched as Theo’s fingers wrapped around his throat. He had to try to be quiet, he hadn’t cast a silencing charm and Theo was in no state to do so.

Fumbling with his belt, Draco let his trousers fall to the floor revealing his hard cock.

“Dirty boy,” Theo hissed into his ear, “Did you not wear trunks today?”

“Got dressed in a hurry,” Draco moaned, as Theo’s hand stroked his hard cock, spitting on the length. A whispered lubrification and cleansing spell and Draco’s cock and arse tingled. It felt like he was drowning in bliss. This was what Theo had needed, Draco could tell. And oh it felt so good.

***********

Theo carefully put Draco up on the table’s edge, removing Draco’s trousers the rest of the way and tossing them onto the branch of a nearby tree. He stroked Draco’s cock more until the tip was red and leaking.

Pushing back Draco’s knees, Theo commanded,” stay” in a whisper, as he dropped kisses over the scars Potter had left on his beloved’s chest.

Theo lowered his own trousers only enough to free the thick length of him. Something about the power of shagging his mate while nearly fully clothed and Draco was half nude made the Veela pleased.

“Mine,” Theo hissed as he ran the tip of his cock against Draco’s tight hole, “you are going to fucking take it.”

“Yes -” Draco moaned, doing just that as Theo slowly slid himself inside Draco’s body.

Theo felt his fangs in his mouth and his wings split his shirt into rags, but he didn’t stop, not until Draco’s throat was bloody and Theo’s cum was dripping from him. Draco came all over himself as Theo pulled back to watch.

“You are so bloody beautiful,” Theo whispered to his mate, capturing his lips with his as his heart beat with a single word: mine.

*******

Hermione did not appreciate how her mind was now constantly aware of Theodore Nott. As class ended, she tried not to focus on Nott and Malfoy as they snuck off together.

She thought that it must be nice to have a friend that was always there for you. She couldn’t help but notice how upset Nott had looked during Herbology. He’d calmed as soon as Malfoy had spoken to him.

She did not want to be so attuned to what those two were doing every minute of the day. It was obnoxious.

Who cared if they were two of the prettiest men in this godforsaken school?

She sighed at herself. They may be pretty, but Malfoy had been a Death Eater and Nott…well he was a Pureblood.

Hermione had had enough of Purebloods and their bullshit. Whatever fixation he had with her would wear off eventually when she just kept avoiding him.

The major perk of Malfoy and Nott being off doing whatever they were doing, meant that no one would make a scene about her skipping dinner. She went straight up to her dorm room and after casting wards and silencing charms, she rooted through her things to find the bottle of muggle whiskey she’d brought with her. She’d planned to share it with friends, but she didn’t really have those did she? She sank down onto the floor with her glass in hand.

Her mind kept wandering back to Malfoy and Nott and couldn’t help but feel jealous that they had each other. They could take care of each other.

Who was there to take care of her?

Noone.

***********

When Theo came up to the eighth year dorm, he knocked on Granger’s door even though he could feel the thrumming of her wards and knew that it was pointless and left food outside her door, before heading to his room where Draco would join him soon.

He wished that she would let him take care of her, that’s all he wanted to do.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Friday Morning

Hermione woke up on the floor of her room, the bottle of whiskey tipped over next to her. The dark patch around it indicated that quite a bit had spilled out and considering how ill Hermione felt that was likely for the best. She stood up shakily making her way to her bathroom where she vomited into the toilet. She moaned in discomfort and started to cry as she wished there was someone, anyone there to take care of her.

*******

Theo felt like something was wrong with Hermione, so he stood outside her room waiting for the door to open.

“Theo,” Draco called, “We’re going to be late for breakfast and then we have Alchemy this morning.”

Theo frowned. “Something’s wrong.”

“She’s probably just sleeping.”

“Have you ever known Granger to oversleep?”

Draco shook his head. “Maybe she drank last night?”

“Alone?” Theo didn’t like the thought of that at all. He stared at the food he’d left sitting there last night. “She’s not eating.”

“She’s not.” Draco agreed. “We could leave her some hangover and pepper-up potions? I have some in the trunk.”

"I think that's a good idea, Dragon." Theo nodded in encouragement. His mate hurried to grab the vials, pleased to have made Theo happy.

*********

"Alchemy is an advanced exploration that will require you to call upon a multitude of different skills. Alchemy is a branch of magic and an ancient science concerned with the study of the composition, structure and magical properties of the four basic elements, as well as the transmutation of substances; it is thus intimately connected with Potion-making, chemistry, and transformation magic.” The Alchemy professor, Professor Almour, was smiling widely. The French professor had come from Beauxbatons for the school year just to teach this course rather than the transfiguration that he taught there. He was enthusiastic and young and Theo hated him.

He hated the way the Frenchman looked at Hermione, the way he said her name, the way his eye lingered on her. Theo considered whether he could murder the man and make it look like an accident.

Theo’s fury wasn’t lost on Draco who kept trying to distract him. He would have rubbed Theo’s back or his leg if the situation had been less public, but some discretion was required for a relationship like theirs.

“If you don’t pull it together,” Draco whispered into Theo’s ear, “Your wings are going to come out in the middle of this classroom. She’s hung over and doesn’t even realise that he is leering at her. When she does, she is perfectly capable of handling the creep.”

Theo tried to let Draco’s words soothe him, but he was unable to completely dissipate the anger that had settled within him.

Hermione for her part was completely unaware of the turmoil that she was causing at the table in the back of the room, running entirely on the Pepper-Up Potion that someone had left for her this morning. She was just trying to make it through this class and the next so that she could go back to sleep.

She had Arithmancy class after this and then no more until Monday and she just wanted to sleep for at least a day. She hadn’t taken the second potion that had been left with food for her, because she had not recognized it. Now she was wondering if she hadn’t made a mistake in refusing someone’s generosity. She also wasn’t particularly inclined to facilitate someone poisoning her or drugging her. There was no shortage of terrifying possibilities when it came to unmarked vials in the magical world. It was dangerous to trust, she knew that and needed not to forget.

*********

“How did she manage to slip away and not come to lunch?” Theo groused. “She can’t keep avoiding meals.”

“Obviously she can,” Draco responded as they headed to their next class. “She’s likely to be in Advanced Arithmancy, so we’ll see her there.” Theo nodded, but didn’t seem soothed by that knowledge. Draco knew that not being able to take care of one of his mates was driving Theo to madness. If Theo couldn’t get a handle on himself he was going to reveal his nature to the whole school.

And that would be a mess. And Draco needed to help him avoid that.

What was a bonded mate for after all?

********

All three of them had Advanced Arithmancy with Professor Vector, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering. The professor was writing some information onto the board as the students filed in. There were only fifteen students in the class, primarily Ravenclaws, which was not unexpected.

Theo wasn’t surprised to find Hermione already there, sitting at a back table, half asleep with her head on her arms.

“Granger, you look awful. Why didn’t you take the hangover potion that we left for you,” Theo asked, sliding into the seat next to her. “And you can’t keep skipping meals or I swear I am going to hand feed you.”

Draco scoffed at Theo’s statement and sat at the table in front of them.

*******

“So you left the potions this morning,” Hermione ignored the last of the Slytherin’s comments. “I was wondering who was responsible. I took the Pepper-Up, but the effects seem to be waning.”

“Because you should have taken the hangover potion as well,” Nott narrowed his eyes at her.

“I really don’t understand why you care,” Hermione started, but was cut off by Professor Vector.

“Welcome to the first day of Advanced Arithmancy. I will be reviewing the syllabus, but this course is primarily going to be built around projects and research. There will be some key things that I want you all to be sure to explore for your NEWTs, but for the most part you will be working on projects as partners. You will be partnered with the person that you are currently sitting with for the rest of the year.”

She surveyed the room, “And we have an odd number, so Mr. Malfoy you’ll be a threesome with Mr. Nott and Ms. Granger.”

Hermione blushed at the professor’s choice of words.

Could this year get any worse?

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

The moment that the Arithmancy class was over, Hermione rushed out, she did not want to hear another thing come out of Theodore Nott’s mouth. She was stuck with Draco Malfoy in Potions and now she was going to have to put up with both of them, potentially for the rest of the year in Arithmancy? Both of them were brilliant, there was no denying that, but clearly they were up to something and honestly she could not imagine what that might be. She did not want to have anything to do with either of them, with any of the wizards at the school, and especially none of the purebloods.

She was feeling so miserable that she actually drank the hangover potion that Nott and Malfoy had left for her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to worry about them potioning her into doing something she was unwilling to do or poisoning her.

Throwing herself onto the bed, she forgot to do several things: (1) close her door all the way, (2)take off her clothes and (3) drink some water, (4) snuggle into bed under her warm duvet to keep off the chill of this damp Scottish weather and finally (5) set her wards. She couldn’t even be bothered. So she passed out with her feet extended off the bed, her school shoes and socks still on her feet along with everything else. She really hoped that she would sleep until Monday.

.......

All of Slytherin House was being forced to take Muggle Studies as though they had no Half Bloods in seventh or eighth year. Tracy Davis already looked like she wanted to stab her own eyes out, the other half-bloods looked just as frustrated. They’d never been required to take the class before, having one non-magical parent had exempted them. Now it was as though everyone had forgotten that. Their new professor was a small Irish woman with curly blonde hair that was desperately attempting to escape its plait not unlike all of the students in the classroom.

Muggle Studies under the Carrows had been “Mudbloods all deserve to die and are cannibalistic savages who steal magic, which is why we have squibs.” And if that indoctrination didn’t make a lot of sense then, that was par for the course with the Carrows.

This however was a different type of torture all together. Theo thought the woman had said “um” at least one hundred and forty-seven times, at least that was when Theo stopped counting. She couldn’t even complete a sentence before she was becoming sidetracked by her own thoughts and repeating something she had already said, but adding slightly more information. She was exceptionally difficult to follow.

“For Salazar’s sake, this woman is worse than Binns,” Blaise whispered to his right.

Greg sitting in front of them between Pansy and Tracey nodded in agreement. “Thank the gods this is our last class on Fridays, I’m ready for a drink.”

Daphne and Milicent weren’t even pretending to pay attention both flipping through a bridal issue of Witch Weekly and whispering to one another.

“What was that, Mr. Goyle?” The professor said from the front. What was her name? Theo thought. Oh, Carmoody.

“Just going over my schedule out loud, ma’am, I apologise,” Greg responded. She pursed her lips but continued to go over her syllabus, which she’d already written on the board and they had all read within ten minutes of sitting down. Draco wasn’t listening to her ramble either; he was on chapter four of the textbook.

“Theo, look at this,” Draco whispered, pointing to a photo of a human, one would assume, holding a flag on a grey rocky plane, and beyond him to that blue and green sphere. “That is the Earth from space. Muggles have been to space? To the stars? How is that possible without magic?”

Theo and Blaise leaned over to look at the picture and then flipped open their own books to the same page.

Theo’s mind whirled.

Had his father known about things like this? Or had he forbidden Theo from attending Muggle Studies courses because Notts never had from the time of the founding?

Draco was absorbed with his reading and almost didn’t realise when the professor had dismissed the class.

“Come on, mate,” Blaise bumped him. “It’s dinner time.”

“And I’m starving,” Greg added, pulling out Pansy’s chair and then Tracey’s while Millicent looked on approvingly from near the door. The professor was mumbling to herself at the front of the room and Theo shook his head. How were they supposed to pass Muggle Studies NEWTs with such a professor? It was going to be impossible without assistance. Maybe he could convince a certain curly-haired swot to tutor them?

He nearly laughed aloud at his optimism and couldn’t help but allow a smile curve his lips.

“Theo, what do you have to be smiling about after that terrible excuse for a class?” Draco asked as they walked down the corridor towards the great staircase.

“Just thinking about what we will have to do to pass that Muggle Studies NEWT and I’m afraid my mind went in a rather silly direction.”

Draco smiled back at him; the darkness that haunted his eyes so often these days was chased away for a few moments. A group of Ravenclaw sixth and seventh year girls were gathered on the landing and looked at Draco with admiring eyes.

Theo took a deep breath to keep from placing his hand on the small of Draco’s back or taking his arm. He wanted to touch his mate,.Even with the bond consummated, Theo still felt territorial. Draco, as though sensing his unease, walked close enough to him that their hands barely touched in passing, their hips glancing off each other as they descended the steps toward dinner.

Draco always knew what he needed. Theo knew he was lucky in his first mate. If only he could get his Hermione to be so attentive. Perhaps after he had properly courted her, she would take care of him and Draco the same way that she had always taken care of the disaster duo. He was grateful not to have those two here competing for Hermione’s attention.

.......

“I’ve got some good gossip,” Daphne smiled, sitting down at dinner after stopping at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables on the way. Pansy was listlessly pushing her food around her plate and barely looked up at the announcement. Theo noted that and added it to his “Pansy is acting off list” that he had been composing in his head. Normally she would be the one most interested in any kind of new gossip and she didn’t even seem to care.

“Do tell,” Millicent was nearly bouncing on the bench. “Is it really good?”

“Oh yes,” Daphne smiled. “More than one piece actually. Harry Potter has left the country and gone to France. The Ministry was trying to keep a lid on it, but apparently the Head Girl got pissed with some of the Hufflepuffs and admitted that Potter and she broke up after he didn’t want to join the Ministry as an Auror and wanted to fuck off to France. He and the other Weasley had a falling out as well. Who says Potter has another girl already over there? She was making it sound like a mutual break up, but I have my doubts.” Daphne’s eyes glittered with malice.

“Saint Potter is a tosser, but Weaslette is clearly a fortune hunter,” Draco pointed out, between bites of mince pie. “Even he could do better.”

“Why Draco,” Blaise smiled. “I do believe that that is the most complimentary thing that you’ve ever said about old Scarhead. Maturing are we?”

Draco gave Blaise a rude hand gesture and returned to eating.

“Not having Potter to spar with is making Draco moody,” Daphne laughed. Theo’s eyes narrowed at her and he opened his mouth to put her in her place, but he was cut off.

“That can’t have been all the gossip Daph,” Tracy raised her eyebrow.

“Abbot from Hufflepuff seems to have snagged Longbottom. She’s expecting a proposal soon.” Daphne said. “Another one of the golden lions snatched up.”

Pansy’s fork dropped to her plate and she rose suddenly. “I feel sick. I have to go.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Daphne asked as Pansy fled the Great Hall, looking as though she was about to be sick.

Theo noticed that the Slytherins weren’t the only ones watching as Pansy left, Longbottom was staring at her too, his fork frozen in midair. Longbottom looked over towards the Slytherin table and Theo stared back at him, an unwavering scowl on his face. Longbottom quickly looked away, but not before Theo saw the fear and worry on his face.

What in the name of Salazar’s favourite brothel was going on?

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

“Granger, what in the bloody hell are you doing passing out with your door open?” A girl’s voice grated harshly in her ear. “Are you trying to get raped?” Hermione grunted as someone pulled off her shoes and rolled her onto the bed.

“I swear to Salazar, this is my good deed for the year,” the voice continued. Hermione’s clothes softened as they were transfigured into pyjamas. Hermione made a little noise of contentment at that.

“Glad to know you are appreciating my efforts. Sweet Circe this room smells like my father’s liquor cabinet. Did you get too drunk to remember how to cast a Scourgify and a Reficite? No, no, that's fine. Don’t answer me. I honestly don't think I want to know what has you so upset that you are drunk by dinner on Friday night. I’d personally like to be drunk too, but that’s off the table.”

Hermione grumbled sleepily as she was levitated so that the blankets could be pulled back. She floated back to the mattress, but landed with a bit of a thud.

“Bloody hell,” Hermione cursed, sitting up and squinting at the unwelcome light streaming in through her window. “Parkinson? Why are you in my room?”

“You passed out with the door open. Witch code says that I can't let you leave yourself vulnerable like that, you could have been attacked.” Pansy had her hands on her hips, her expression stern as though Hermione was the one who did something wrong.

Hermione blinked at her in confusion. “Witch code?”

“I swear no one teaches Muggleborns anything. You know don’t let another witch be around an unsafe wizard without warning her. You don’t go to Diagon Alley alone in the evening. You don’t leave another witch passed out after over-imbibing where a wizard could mistreat her. Go out together, come home together. Things like that.” Pansy rolled her eyes in annoyance as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Parkinson, were you…concerned about my safety?” Hermione’s eyes widened in shock.

“Granger, wizards can’t be trusted.” Hermione had never seen Pansy Parkinson look so solemn. “They are dangerous when given the opportunity to be. You need to be more careful. And your room smells like the Hogshead. Were you using Ogden’s as a room spray?”

“How do you know about room spray?” Hermione asked in confusion, her muddled mind unable to follow the conversation. She had to be dreaming.

“Tracy shares muggle stuff with us sometimes. I prefer muggle lip gloss to the wizarding equivalent,” Pansy admitted. “But seriously Granger, you are a heroine right now, someone would love to bring you down. You need to watch your back better.”

“Constant vigilance,” Hermione muttered to herself.

“What’s that?” Pansy asked, eyebrow raised.

“Just something that Mad-eye Moody used to say, constant vigilance,” Hermione sighed, pulling her blankets over her lap. “I seem to have forgotten how to do it. Thank you, Parkinson…Pansy…for making sure I was safe.”

“Yeah, well don’t go telling any wizards about it. They aren’t supposed to know about Witch code,” Pansy commanded sternly.

“I’d love to talk with you more about it, sometime, if you want.” Hermione surprised herself by realising that she was having a relatively nice conversation with Pansy Parkinson who apparently liked muggle lip gloss and had levitated her into bed properly. Life just seemed to get stranger and stranger.

“As long as you promise not to discuss anyone’s marriage contract prospects, that sounds fine with me,” Pansy said heading towards the door. “Sleep well Granger.”

The door shut behind her and Hermione fell back onto her pillows.

What the hell was that about? Had she fallen into an alternate universe?

***********

The Slytherin boys had managed to take over the eighth year common room basically by default. They settled into the couches after dinner and when the Hufflepuffs saw them, they disappeared. The Gryffindors cursed a bit and Longbottom even looked longingly at the bottle of Ogden’s that Blaise was pouring from, but they disappeared too. Ernie Macmillan had invited Tracy for a moonlit walk outside and the witch had excitedly gone with him. Daphne and Millicent had made comments about how they would like to get such an invitation, but when none of the wizards seemed to pay them much mind, they disappeared to their rooms as well.

Blaise sipped his drink, “It’s not the same without Vince, is it? It was always the five of us.”

“Let’s have a toast then, to Vince,” Greg said, with a melancholy smile. “He was a good friend. A bloody dumb arse, but a good friend.”

“To Vince,” the other wizards repeated, glasses raised.

Theo saw the haunted light in Draco’s eyes and wanted to reassure him, but couldn’t do it the way that Draco needed with an audience. Theo restricted himself to bumping Draco’s knee with his own. Vince’s death wasn’t your fault, Theo wanted to say.

But it was Draco’s eyes said accompanied by a sad half smile.

“Let’s not get melancholy,” Blaise said, catching Draco’s expression. “I’ve got some good news, I’m taking Lovegood to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Thanks for suggesting her Theo, she’s really quite witty despite the fixation on presumably extinct magical creatures. I suggested that she write children’s books about them when she complained about their lack in the core Magical Creature texts. Writing is a good career for a wife, better than murder.” The last was muttered, but all of them were close enough to hear. Blaise’s mother was likely enough to turn her son off on the idea of marriage, but like so many of them he was the last of his House.

“She might make you so crazy you check yourself into Janus Thickey, but I can’t see her killing you,” Draco agreed.

“Definitely safer than any of the Slytherin girls,” Theo threw out.

“Hey, Millie is a sweetheart,” Greg stated in annoyance.

“Just watch out for her spending too much time with Daphne,” Blaise pointed out. “That witch is something between a viper and a niffler.”

Theo looked at Blaise in curiosity. Something must have happened between him and the Greengrass heiress for him to be speaking so uncharitably of her. He wondered what it was. Sipping his drink, he decided that he would find out later.

***********

Drinking had gone on longer than Theo had wanted it to. He’d tucked a tipsy Draco into his bed, and rubbed his back until he fell asleep. Watching his mate sleep, Theo felt soothed for a while, but restlessness overwhelmed him. He switched to his black leather pants and pulled on his boots.

He stared longingly at his witch’s door for a few moments before walking out through the eighth year common room. He carefully prowled through the castle, listening for Filch and Mrs. Norris as it was far too late for the Heads or prefects to be on patrol.

Taking the stars up to the Astronomy Tower, Theo opened the door and braced himself for the cold. He shivered involuntarily, but this had been what he was seeking after all. He needed to let loose a little.

Standing at the handrail for a little while, Theo basked in the brisk breeze that blew into his face. Unable to stand it any longer, Theo pulled off his jumper and shirt, shrinking them and tucking them into his pocket.

Wings with feathers the colour of the night sky outside unfurled from Theo’s back and he climbed over the railing. He stood there for just a moment before he jumped, relying on his wings to carry him safely into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Hermione wanted to sleep the weekend away, but a knock at her door the next morning was revealed to be Pansy Parkinson who opened the door a crack and peered in.

"Are you alive in there, Granger?" The dark-haired witch asked from the door.

"Unfortunately Parkinson. I am still living." Hermione huffed, sitting up and smoothing her hair which was sure to be going in every direction.

"You missed breakfast," Pansy pointed out, scrutinising her.

"And?" Why was everyone so concerned about her eating? Why did all these Slytherins care if she skipped a meal? Harry and Ron had never noticed when she skipped meals unless they needed to ask her to do their homework or something.

"When was the last meal you ate? If you don't start eating soon, they will probably find some way to blame Draco and he'll go to Azkaban for cursing you or something. And it will be all because you refused to eat the shite food they serve here." Pansy tapped her long manicured nails against her forearm with a look on her face that Hermione could not define. Was this really the same girl that had helped her into bed last night.

"The food isn't shite," Hermione argued, for the sake of arguing, because the food at Hogwarts wasn’t particularly great either.

Examining her nails, Pansy asked. "Then why aren't you eating?"

"Fuck Parkinson what is this, an intervention?" Hermione crossed her arms in annoyance.

"An inter-what now? No, I was trying to figure out what your deal is. Are you trying to commit passive suicide? Or was it Potter or Weasley who got you up the duff?" Pansy's face looked remarkably free of judgement, but Hermione was bowled over by the Slytherin girl's nerve to ask such a private question.

Hermione was still a virgin, but that was hardly Pansy’s business.

"Bloody hell Parkinson, did you just wake me up to accuse me of what exactly? Being anorexic or being pregnant? Are you planning to sell the story of what a disaster my life is to the Daily Prophet if that's the case? You'd probably make a good amount of galleons if you did. Rita Skeeter does hate my guts." Hermione sneered as best she could while wearing pyjamas and sitting in her bed. Her smoothing at her curls had done little to nothing and her hair was wild.

"I just thought maybe…you know what…never mind. Anyways there is a tray of food outside your door." The dark haired girl snapped her fingers and the tray floated up and landed on her bed. Hermione could recognize Theodore Nott's handiwork, along with Draco Malfoy’s handwriting on the vial of Pepper-Up Potion. “Maybe eat something so you don't die.”

Pansy turned to walk away.

“Parkinson,” Hermione called, causing the other girl to look back. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I was being a bitch. The last few months have been hell and the last week has been worse. I’m just not feeling like letting people in is the smartest thing that I should be doing.”

“Maybe not, but has being the Brightest Witch of the Age always served in your best interest?"

Hermione was left alone to contemplate that after Pansy closed the door behind her.

When she took a sip of the coffee, she savored the taste because it was perfect. She realised that Theo had remembered how she took her coffee.

For some reason that shook her more than anything else that had happened that morning.

She wished she understood what his goal was. The Purebloods were supposed to be pursuing brides, why was Theo who was a bloody Lord, expending so much time and energy on her.

It made no sense.

********

Theo caught Pansy in the common room when he was coming back in from watching Draco practise for Quidditch tryouts. He'd been fighting stretching his own wings so hard that eventually it just got easier to leave and end the temptation, plus Draco had already told him that there wasn't enough privacy for them to shag in the locker room after the game.

Theo tried to be unthreatening, but he'd grown so much taller in the last year. He couldn't help it that he loomed over her.

He had her pinned between his arms as he leaned toward her, refusing to let her escape from his scrutiny. Even knowing it wasn’t precisely ethical, Theo allowed his pheromones to exude from him, not enough to make Pansy desire him, but enough to make her more compliant.

“What do you want Theo?” Pansy scowled at him in annoyance. Of course she’d be immune to his nature, it just figured. She was probably part fae or something.

“What the bloody hell is going on with you, Pans?”

“None of your business, Theodore.” She hissed, nearly spitting in his face as she leaned toward him.

“I refuse to allow you to kill yourself. You are barely eating! We already dealt with Draco starving himself in sixth year, why do you think that I would allow a repeat?” Theo snarled. “You are my friend and I refuse to watch you pine for someone from Gryffindor!” Theo watched as her eyes widened as his guess found its mark. Bingo.

He wasn’t surprised when she slapped him.

He was surprised when he heard Draco’s hiss behind him, and turned around to see Draco’s look of betrayal right before the blond fled the common room. Fuck!

“You better go after him before he does something stupid,” Pansy pushed his arm out of the way. “Worry about your own house Theodore Nott, before getting involved where you aren’t wanted.”

Theo nodded and took off after Draco. That had to have looked really bad from the angle Draco had seen it.

Shite.

Theo felt the sinking dread in his stomach that he had really screwed up this time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

It couldn’t have been what it looked like, what it smelled like. Draco was desperately trying to convince himself of that fact. Veelas mate for life. Theo couldn’t cheat on him, he wouldn’t, but what if he was wrong? Draco hadn’t thought that Veelas could have two mates either and Theo was clearly courting Granger. Salazar, Draco could even smell Granger sometimes, the tantalising magical aroma that had a hint of something necessary to his happiness. He didn’t even understand how that would work either. What connection would the two mates of a Veela have? They’d have to be compatible themselves wouldn’t they? Theo needed to have the two of them accept their bond in order to live after all.

Theo wouldn’t risk his life by dallying with Pansy.

Draco skipped a stone across the Black Lake with vigour.

But why had the room reeked of Theo’s scent, Draco had been instantly half hard from it the moment he had walked in and there Theo had been, caging Pansy in with his arms. She’d slapped him, that much had been clear. What had Theo done that had caused Pansy to slap him? Had he touched her inappropriately? Had he said something crass and vulgar to the witch?

Pansy had been particularly volatile lately. He’d caught her taking Daphne’s head off twice in the last two days. That wasn’t typical at all.

Maybe it hadn’t been what it looked like. Draco wanted to believe the best of his mate, he truly did, but was he being a fool? He had tried to believe the best of Lucius too, where had that gotten him?

A Dark Magic infected tattoo and a ten year probation sentence if he was lucky and Theo was right about the magic his solicitors could do with Draco’s Veela mate status.

He skipped another rock and this time a tentacle popped out of the water and caught it.

Draco hid behind a tree in case the giant squid tried to toss it back.

He attempted to reason with himself that he wasn't a fool and that Theo would never cheat on him.

But the words felt like bile in his mouth. He felt as though he was going to be sick.

**********

As he walked through the trees, Theo knew that Draco was nearby, but he hadn't been able to find him. His scent was all over this part of the trail that surrounded the lake. He was barely able to stop himself from spreading his wings so that he could search more effectively for his mate, when he heard Draco’s voice cursing.

His mate was still angry.

That wasn't a good sign.

Theo had made a colossal mistake, he was going to have to beg for forgiveness.

Salazar, he hated begging.

***********

Draco smelled Theo before he saw him. Theo was soundless now when he walked, so there wasn’t so much as a crinkle of grass as he moved toward him. Draco turned that way that he knew Theo was coming from and his mate’s contrite face did not make Draco feel any better about what was about to come out in this conversation.

He felt as though he was going to be sick.

**********

Theo could feel that his mate was upset and he just wanted to soothe him, to make him feel better.

“Are you here to tell me that it wasn’t what it looked like Theo?” Draco said, coldly, disgust dripping from every syllable. “Because I can tell you what it smelled like.”

Theo didn’t say a word yet, simply moving closer to him without speaking.

“It smelled like betrayal, Theo. What does Pansy have that Granger and I don’t have? I know you haven’t claimed her yet, but you have me! What do you need!? Why would you do this?”

“Draco, I would never cheat on you, I swear it on my mother’s grave.” Theo fell to his knees in front of Draco. “Never. I was just trying to use my Veela pheromones to get Pansy to tell me what is going on with her. She’s not eating, she’s moody, she’s staring at the Gryffindor table more than we do. I’m worried about her, but my smell didn’t work on her. She told me that I was being creepy and she slapped me. Also I’m pretty sure she suspects about our relationship.” Theo gazed up at his mate, desperate for forgiveness for being so stupid.

“You deserved the slap.” Draco looked down at him with blank features, clearly occluding against their connection.

“I did,” Theo agreed. “I’d deserve it if you wanted to slap me too.” Theo took Draco’s hand and set Draco’s palm against his cheek as he looked up into Draco’s face.

“Theo, I’m upset with you but I don’t want to hit you. I’m not Lucius. I’d never treat you that way.” Draco tugged Theo to his feet. “You swear you weren’t trying to get into Pansy’s knickers?”

“I certainly didn’t even consider attempting that,” Theo promised, wrapping his arms around Draco. “I don’t want to marry Pansy and that would be the price of getting into that witch’s knickers. That would be hell. She’s impossible to please. I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy.”

“That’s not really fair. She has to marry someone. You shouldn’t say things like that.” Draco said, but all the fire had gone out of him. "Especially when we have to deal with Daphne who is a thousand times worse than Pansy could ever dream of being."

“I’m so sorry, love,” Theo whispered, so grateful that Draco seemed to have forgiven him so easily. "I won't do anything like that again."

"You had better not. Your pheromones are for me and Granger only." Draco sighed. "I'll find out what's going on with Pansy so you can stop worrying about her. Because I agree that something is wrong."

"Thank you my love," Theo breathed.

"If you ever do anything like that again, you can have only your hand for company for a month while I sleep alone," Draco stated. “And I won’t touch you at all, no matter how much it hurts me to do it.”

Theo nodded, knowing that he would never be such a fool again. He was lucky that Draco loved and trusted him, Hermione did neither. If it had been her that saw him, that would have been a very bad way to start things. She’d have no faith in his fidelity after such a show.

********

After all of that drama the rest of the weekend was very calm.

Draco and Theo spent the majority of their time at the lake reading and studying. Theo napped with his head in Draco’s lap on more than one occasion as his dragon ran his fingers through Theo’s curls while he read aloud from one of their texts.

Pansy managed to force Hermione to eat at least once a day, because the Gryffindor princess refused to leave her room and Pansy’s forceful attitude seemed to work.

Blaise took the time to watch Luna interact with others and discovered that he had very little competition in the courtship department, at least that was what he reported to Theo over fire whiskey on Sunday night. They hadn’t managed to get the couches in the eighth year common room that night as the Gryffindors had gotten there first. So Blaise, Theo and Draco were lounging on Theo’s bed, the window open and evening birdsong wafting in.

“And of course,” Blaise was saying. “I believe that the biggest point in Luna’s favour is that she seems very unlikely to kill me in my sleep when I am at my most vulnerable.”

“I rather think she’d poison your tea and announce it as she served you if you ever strayed though,” Theo pointed out.

“She is very direct and it’s one of the things I like about her most.” Blaise sipped his drink. “And I have a healthy fear of women so no mistress to become an issue on my end. Did I tell you about what my mother did to her fifth husband after she found that he had a mistress?”

“Please don’t,” Draco requested, his mouth twisting in distaste. “This fire whiskey is expensive and I’d rather not vomit it up. Terribly wasteful.”

Blaise laughed and Theo smirked at his mate, who offered a coy smile in return.

“So you are set on her already?” Theo asked, curious about the speed in which his friend had made such a momentous decision.

“Mother sent me a list of the witches she is considering if I can’t find someone on my own,” Blaise shuddered. “Three of them are young widows whose husbands died under mysterious circumstances. I believe that I will take my chances with the nargles.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

By Monday morning, Hermione felt much better from her overindulgence of alcohol the previous week. She had needed a good shower to get the ick of her sweat off her skin. Luckily no one else was up when she was as her first class of the day, NEWT-level History of Magic, was at an earlier block. Purebloods stopped taking that class as soon as it became an elective and after she nearly fell asleep six times while Professor Binns lectured, Hermione wondered if they had the right idea.

Maybe she was taking too many courses.

Maybe she should talk to McGonagall about her course load and see if she could take some of these NEWTs early. She didn’t think that she could make it through an entire year of listening to the ghostly professor drone on about things that she already knew. It was almost physically painful.

She’d skipped breakfast so by the time that she was done with History of Magic, Hermione was ravenous. She hadn’t felt hungry in weeks and decided that was a good sign that her mental health was improving.

She froze for a minute at the door to the Great Hall, she really didn’t want to eat at the Gryffindor table. She wished that there was another option, but there wasn’t so she just put on her big girl knickers and went and sat with the first years again, offering her assistance on the subjects that they were struggling on between the courses.

Maybe she should start a study group?

She might not be Head Girl, but she could still contribute to the Hogwarts community. While she explained the different applications of Wiggenweld potion to some of the students, her mind whirled as she considered how best to go about setting something up.

******

Theo watched his pretty little mate as she spoke with the firsties. She’d make such an exceptional mother. He could see it in her, in the way she attentively listened to them as they spoke. In the way she gave them small amounts of physical affection. Pureblood children weren’t used to that, and he could see their desperation for more of that in their little faces. She thought her shoulder squeezes and hair ruffling was nothing, but it was probably the kindest touches these children had received in months. He looked down the table at the first years in his own house and caught more than one looking longingly at Granger.

He tried to ignore the feelings of jealousy, they were touch-starved first years for Merlin’s sake, and attend to his meal, but Daphne’s gossiping was turning his stomach. Honestly, she needed to learn to shut her mouth now and again.

****

William “Bill” Weasley was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and Draco had to admit the man was the handsomest Weasley by far. Greyback had scarred his face and that gave Draco a tinge of guilt every time he looked at the man, but he was so bloody fit that the scars seemed more of an enhancement than a detraction.

Not that Draco wanted to do anything about how good the man looked, Draco was after all a mated wizard, but sitting in class for the next nine months and staring at him certainly wouldn’t be a hardship.

Theo was looking at the man with thinly veiled suspicion, especially considering Granger’s happiness to see him.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she gushed, as she hugged him quickly and then backed up when she realised she had done that in front of everyone.

“I didn’t know I would be here either. The professor that the Headmistress had hired had to pull out last minute, some sort of family emergency. So here I am,” the man had a bloody ponytail and a single earring for Salazar’s sake. Could he appeal more to those that were attracted to the masculine sex?

“What’s Fleur going to do without you?” Granger asked, seemingly ignoring all the other eighth years that were filtering into the classroom.

“I think she’ll manage,” he smiled kindly. “She’s back at work part-time and trying to decide on whether she’d like to pursue a Mastery before we start trying for children.”

Granger’s smile was so wide and bright that Draco wanted to growl, so he couldn’t imagine how Theo was feeling.

“Oh, I’m sure that you’ll both be brilliant parents.” She seemed to realise where she was and that the whole class was looking at her. “I’ve better sit so you can get started,” she said sheepishly, quickly sitting in the front row.

“Swot,” Theo whispered affectionately under his breath and Draco found himself surprised that he seemed amused rather than territorial towards their new professor, perhaps it helped that the wizard was married and planning for children. Draco had never seen Theo so complacent after watching their witch be touched by another wizard, even Longbottom had drawn more ire.

The professor stood in the middle of the classroom with his arms crossed, his wand in a dragon leather shoulder holster, the hide glistening in iridescent tones. His button down ice blue shirt was clearly Acromantula silk and he was in denims, forgoing a traditional wizarding robes. Simply put, half the class was ogling the wizard as though he was the last sugar quill at Honeydukes and the other half didn’t prefer wizards.

“Hello class! I’m your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, only it's not so long since my seventh year so since we are all adults here and you all fought in a bloody war, for Merlin’s sake, I’d prefer it if you called me Bill.”

That sent a murmur of confusion through the Purebloods in the room.

“I’ll still answer to Professor Weasley,” the redhead offered. “But I’m giving all of you the use of my preferred name. Please let me know if you have a preferred one.” He looked over at Granger. “Or a non-preferred nickname.”

This seemed to be some sort of an in-joke with Granger who blushed prettily. Draco shared a look with Theo, who was clearly wracking his brain wondering what she didn’t want to be called.

“The problem with this class has always been inconsistent staffing. So with this group, our priority is NEWT preparation. We’re going to do a fast paced review of each year’s most critical information for your exams. Revision and self-study is going to be critical for your success. The powers that be have set you up to fail in this, so you need to prove them wrong.”

Their professor caught Draco’s eye when he said the last bit. The Malfoy heir lost his ability to breathe for a second. Was their DADA professor going to be fair to Slytherins for a change? A Weasley admitting to the bias against Slytherins? Would wonders never cease?

Theo and Blaise both wore identical expressions of shock and Pansy’s mouth had dropped open in a particularly unladylike expression.

Wasn’t just him that caught the implication, then.

Well this was an interesting complication.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Theo

Granger had taken over the common area in the eighth year dorm, she was stretched out on one of the couches with her textbooks. She was pretending to read it, Theo could tell because she hadn’t turned the page in the almost fifteen minutes that he had been watching her.

No one else was sitting with her. Theo watched the Gryffindors look at her, but they all left probably to head back to their own tower for socialising. The only one that he’d really seen interacting with her had been Longbottom and there had been no sign of him this evening.

Theo watched her until he saw Draco looking for him in the entryway to the dorm rooms. He would have preferred to watch over her longer, but the unhappy tilt to Draco’s mouth necessitated Theo leaving his hiding place and heading to bed. He couldn’t have his mate be unhappy.

His other mate had never even noticed him. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

*******

Draco

“So are you going to explain to me why you didn’t lose it today when Professor Weasley had his hands all over your other mate?” Draco asked the moment that Theo entered his room.

“She’s your mate too,” Theo stated.

Draco laughed and crossed his arms. “I am fairly certain that that isn’t how that works, Theo.”

“Regardless of how you think that things work,” Theo began, but twisted his methods when he saw the sceptical look on Draco’s face. “Bill Weasley’s wife is part Veela and he’s got some wolf in him from Greyback. They are mated. So I don’t have anything to worry about where he is concerned with Hermione.”

“You’re very confident for a Veela who hasn’t secured his mate,” Draco sneered. “Cocky even.”

“I’ll show you cocky,” Theo purred, his hand wrapping around Draco’s throat. “Mate.”

Draco swallowed, his pupils blown wide.

********

Draco

Draco wasn’t sure if Trelawney was an early riser or if she had just stayed up all night drinking and it was easier to have her courses first thing on everyone’s time tables. Divination had shrunk exponentially. They were now combined with the seventh years because so many of the NEWT level Divination students had died in the Battle of Hogwarts.

There was a dark joke in there, Draco was sure.

Blaise was beside him, but he was busy hanging on to every mad word of Luna Lovegood. Draco shook his head in annoyance at the two of them, but couldn’t find it in himself to be truly dismayed. She was an odd little thing, but she’d survived his dungeons and had been nothing but polite to him since, which was more than he deserved honestly. He doubted that she’d insist that Blaise cut off his school friends after the wedding, which seemed increasingly imminent as he whispered something into her ear that caused a blush to spread over her cheeks.

Daphne was so livid that she spilt her ink all over her robes, leaving no doubt that wasn’t at all happy about Blaise’s interest in another blonde, but her awful behaviour of late had hardly endeared her to anyone their age.

Trelawney told Daphne that the ink stain on her robes looked like the grim and Draco almost choked on his own laughter. Now that Potter had left school the woman had to foretell someone’s doom. Couldn’t happen to a nicer witch.

Daphne huffed and fled the room, Tracey and Millicent on her heels. The latter two should really choose better friends, Draco thought, returning to his notes.

*******

Hermione

Charms had started with a practical quiz which took everyone by surprise. After thirty minutes of nonstop casting, Flitwick had announced that everyone in the room was clearly prepared to pass their NEWT with at least an Acceptable.

“If you want or need better than an Acceptable, please come and collect a copy of the revision schedule from me. If an Acceptable meets your needs, I bid you a good year and I’ll see you in late May when it is time to sit your NEWTs.”

A handful of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs walked out of the room and everyone else stood in line to get their handout for the spells that they needed to master to do better than Acceptable. Hermione smiled as she looked over the list, there were only three charms that she was unfamiliar with. This was going to be a breeze.

She caught Theo watching her and her smile evaporated. What did he want with her? Why couldn’t he start watching someone else?

******

Theo

Hermione had been smiling as she looked over the study guide and the light that shone from within her was so magnetic. Theo wanted to kiss every inch of her. He wanted all her smiles for himself and he would share them with Draco of course. But when she realised that he was watching her, her smile turned to a frown and she turned away. He wanted to snap his quill in half.

Why must she be so bloody difficult?

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Since Transfiguration was going to be taught by McGonagall, at least for the NEWT-level students, Hermione was grateful that if she had to have one class with Ginny Weasley it was this one, where the other witch would be on her best behaviour. Hermione wondered, not for the first time, if it was too late to transfer to Beauxbatons.

Ginny and her entourage of Hermione’s former friends were leaning against the wall outside of Hermione’s class and glared at her as she walked past. Hermione was in the wrong because she’d been cheated on and mistreated by Ron; it was like a championship gaslighting campaign. Well she wasn’t going to fall for it this time. She had always apologised when other people had done her wrong in the past, but this time she refused to.

Hermione glared back, tired of Ginny’s ridiculousness, certain that the redhead thought that Hermione was somehow to blame for her and Harry’s breakup. Hermione was at the point where she wished that she had something to do with it. She’d never had any interest in Harry Potter beyond sisterly affection, but she really wished that they had kissed or something so she could throw it in Ginny’s face.

“Careful with those dirty looks, Granger,” Ginny called. “If we didn’t share a house that would have just cost you points.”

Hermione snorted as she entered the classroom. As though she gave a single fuck about house points. Slytherin could take the House Cup for the next one hundred and fifty years as far as Hermione was concerned.

Ignoring everyone as she walked down the centre aisle, Hermione managed to get a front table in Transfiguration and she tried not to feel her heart breaking a little when McGonagall complimented Ginny on her way into the room for dealing with some rowdy second years out in the hallway. She bit the inside of her cheek instead wondering if she could manage to make herself bleed without anyone noticing.

“Hullo, Granger,” Pansy said as she sat down elegantly in the seat next to Hermione. “I’ve never sat in the front row before. Do you get more information up here?”

“If you must know,” Hermione hissed, “I’m avoiding Nott and the plonkers from my house.” Pansy looked at her with narrowed eyes at her mention of her house mate, but didn’t question Hermione’s desire to avoid him.

“Plonkers,” Pansy sounded out the word. “That’s a new one for me, but it suits them. What does it mean? A bit slow?”

“Yeah, but why are you sitting with me?” Hermione regretted the words the moment that they were out of her mouth. She hadn’t really meant to be rude to the witch, who hadn’t done anything to her in the time that they had been back at Hogwarts. Not that Pansy hadn’t been a complete cunt to her in the past, but Hermione was starting to realise that the past was a place where you left things, like her relationship with Ron, her friendship with Ginny, her parents, her old hopes and dreams.

“Are you plonkers? Didn’t I tell you that we’re friends now?” Pansy raised a perfect eyebrow in Hermione’s direction.

“Do you pluck your eyebrows?” Hermione asked, out of nowhere.

What was the matter with her? Hermione thought. She was all over the place. She needed a drink. A strong one.

“Pluck? Is that some weird Muggle thing?” Pansy looked horrified.

“Yes,” Hermione laughed. “They use tweezers,” at the blank look on Pansy’s face, she mimicked the shape with her fingers. “And pull out the hair to shape them as they like.”

“That’s fucking barbaric.” Pansy looked aghast. “There’s a beauty charm for it. I can teach you later if you like.”

Never one to turn down new knowledge, Hermione nodded.

“Great, and then we can sort out what on earth is going on with your hair,” Pansy added. “I’ve got some curl-defining potions that I’d love to try on you.”

“Are you serious right now?” Hermione asked, unsure how she was discussing a beauty regimen with Pansy Parkinson of all people.

“Serious as Dragon Pox,” Pansy said, staring at her seriously. “I’ve decided we are friends now, which means I will now be improving your appearance so that I am not embarrassed to be seen with you. It’s entirely selfish on my part.”

“Thanks,” Hermione wasn’t sure that she meant that at all, but it wasn’t as though she had so many friends that she could just throw them away. “I guess.”

Pansy nodded regally as though she was absolutely due thanks and Hermione wanted desperately to rub her face because this was literally the strangest year of her life and that was saying something.

*******

Theo and Draco slid into the last seats by the door just before McGonagall was about to start the opening lecture to the seventh and eighth year Transfiguration class. Theo had needed to relieve some of his tension about Hermione right into Draco’s mouth.

His mate was an absolutely perfect cocksucker and Theo loved having the wizard before him on his knees. It had been a little challenging finding a storage closet that was big enough with Theo’s new bulk, but once they had, Theo’s mood improved immeasurably. Now everytime Draco absentmindedly licked his lips Theo’s cock twitched. He wondered if the little menace was doing it intentionally. He smiled and considered all the ways that he could punish him for that later when they were back in Draco’s dorm room.

Eyes flicking up to the front of the room, Theo was both pleased and concerned to see Pansy sitting next to Hermione. The girls seemed comfortable enough with one another and Theo wondered how the fuck that had happened so quickly. What was Pansy’s secret to earning Hermione’s friendship, or at least acceptance, so easily? Pansy had been far more of a bitch to Hermione over the years then he had ever been.

Bloody witches were giving him a headache. They made no sense.

******

Pansy had disappeared five minutes before class was dismissed supposedly to use the loo, but hadn’t returned when class was over. Hermione didn’t know why she felt a little disappointed about that. Had she really wanted to walk down to dinner with Pansy Parkinson? Clearly there was something very wrong with her. Hermione hadn’t wanted to go to dinner after Transfiguration and had paused in the hall, considering just heading up to her room.

She wasn’t really hungry, although she rarely was these days. She’d barely made progress on improving her eating habits after the war and now everything with her parents and Ron made it hard to muster even the slightest desire for food.

Nott brushed past her and for once didn’t say anything weird to her about her eating habits, but sweet Circe the smell of him. How did he manage to smell so bloody good all the time? His egyptian musk and sweat smell assaulted her brain with visions of how good it would feel to press her face into his neck and get a deep inhale of that masculine scent.

There had to be something wrong with her, she was supposed to be avoiding him, not wanting to get closer. Maybe she was sick, she probably needed to eat. She was definitely dehydrated, her mouth felt dry.

Before she realised what she was doing she was trailing after Nott and Malfoy as they walked to the Great Hall, just far enough behind them that she hoped they weren’t aware. Nott’s laughter at something that Malfoy had said made Hermione inexplicably sad. She didn’t even know when the last time that she’d laughed was.

*******

She was sad, he could feel it radiating off her. Theo hated it. He wanted to turn back around and give her all the love and support that she so clearly needed, but she hadn’t liked him spoiling her so he was going to play a little harder to get and trust that the mate bond would start to pull her to him.

He hoped he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. He tried to keep his body lithe and relaxed, but his fists were clenched at his sides.

*******

Hermione sat with the first and second years and listened to them ramble on about their first week of classes. She half-heartedly picked at her food as she tried to let their excitement wash over her. She missed those days when she was so thrilled about every little thing, when she kept a dog-eared copy of Hogwarts: A History with her at all times and knew what her place and role was. She was one third of the Golden Trio, Gryffindor's Princess, future Head Girl. She was none of those things now.

She felt painfully empty. Maybe she should just take Harry up on his offer and go to France. What was keeping her here at Hogwarts after all?

Her eyes went over to the Slytherin table against her will and caught the light shining on chestnut curls. Deep laughter carried over the chaos of the Great Hall and Hermione didn’t understand how she could be so aware of him across the room.

She sighed and angrily stabbed her overcooked vegetables with a fork.

*******

The dreams were so vivid that they felt real. The kisses down Hermione’s neck and the hands that roamed over her body that was completely naked for some reason in the dream. The light scrape of a beard over the skin of her breasts caused her to moan from the pleasurable sensation. A finger slid inside her mouth and she sucked on it without thinking, the sensation sending a tingle down her spine and an ache between her legs.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly, not sure exactly what she was asking for. She just knew that she needed a nameless something urgently. “Please.”

The hands of her invisible lover continued travelling all over her skin, soft lips kissing her everywhere, the scrape of the beard, the heat of each exhale driving her out of her mind with desire. No one had ever touched her like this nor held her like this when she was awake. The wetness between her legs was uncomfortable. She needed something, needed it desperately. She whimpered.

“Shhh,” a husky masculine voice in her ear whispered. “I’ll take care of you, I’ll always take care of you, if you let me.” The fingers slipped between her legs, sliding between her folds and gently teasing, but Hermione needed more and she needed it desperately. She moved her hips trying to chase the sensation.

A soft laugh in her ear was accompanied by a kiss and nibble to her earlobe and Hermione shivered from the sensation. She could never have imagined such a thing would feel so good.

“Such a needy little thing you are,” the voice that she could almost recognise murmured into her ear. “I’m going to feast between your legs until you don’t remember your name and then I’m going to make you mine.” Hermione wanted that, she wanted that so intensely. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was a virgin and to be gentle with her.

But then one of his thick calloused fingers slid inside of her fully and curved. The sensation causing her to jolt and cry out, “Oh fuck!”

Hermione was wide awake and panting in her dorm room. She was alone. Her hands were in her knickers and she couldn’t believe how soaked they were. She pulled them out, embarrassed at herself. She'd never had such a realistic sex dream before.

“Oh fuck,” she whispered again into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

Hermione struggled to get back to sleep after that dream. She didn't know if she was afraid of it continuing or that she wanted it to. Either way the entire concept left her uncomfortable, especially considering the only man around to ogle with a beard was Theo bloody Nott.

She couldn't believe that her brain would give her a sex dream about Theo Nott. Was that what his voice would sound like low in her ear as he pleasured her? It didn't matter anyway, she wasn't about to be part of some other Pureblood’s rights to sow his oats before marriage. The very idea made bile rise up in her throat.

She gave up after a while and threw on her robe, intending to go to the eighth year kitchenette and make a cup of tea. She could always do some reading, maybe that would give her a sense of normalcy that she was missing. Wednesday was her long day though and she’d probably pay for it later.

The hall was quiet, but Hermione thought she heard weeping coming from the other end of the hall. She couldn’t not investigate and found the sound was coming from behind Pansy’s door. Was the other witch alright? Hermione’s fear for her new friend overwhelmed her and before she knew what she was doing, she was wandlessly tearing the other girl’s wards and locking spells to shreds and forcing her way in. The door to Pansy’s bathroom was open and the crying was coming from inside.

“Pansy?” Hermione called quietly as she pushed the door open.

The raven-haired witch was curled in a ball against the tiled wall. Her arms wrapped tightly around her abdomen. Tears streamed down her face and it looked like she had been like this for a while, possibly since she’d left Transfiguration.

“Fuck, Pansy!” Hermione fell to her knees next to her and tried to see if she could tell what was wrong. The Slytherin didn’t smell of alcohol, but had clearly been vomiting. Hermione tried to shift her and the other girl moaned.

“Don’t,” Pansy hissed out, wincing as she shook her head. “I finally stopped heaving. I don’t want to chance my body finding something else to spew out.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide as she took in how poorly the other girl looked. “Shite, Pansy, we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey.” She’d left her wand in her room, but she could go grab it and cast a Patronus and get some help. Hermione’s whirling mind was stopped by Pansy’s next words like a sudden impact.

“No Pomfrey. She can’t do anything for me.” Pansy’s laugh was mirthless.

“But, Pansy, you’re sick!” Hermione argued, confused by the girl’s refusal to get medical help.

“Granger, use your head. I’m not sick, I’m pregnant,” Pansy confessed softly. “The only thing that will happen if I go to the hospital wing is a judgmental talk from Pomfrey and McGonagall and my complete social ruination. Not that I’m not already a pariah for trying to give Potter over to Voldemort.” Pansy’s laugh dissolved into tears. “Fuck, I’m pathetic.” She tried to swallow her sobs but they came out anyway and shook her frame.

“Fucking Merlin,” Hermione hissed, aghast at seeing Pansy in such a state. “Who is responsible for this? I’ll fucking kill him.”

Pansy cracked an eye open at the Gryffindor, “I knew that I liked you for a reason. Blood thirsty witch.” Her smile was small, but her lower lip quivered with repressed tears.

“Is it Malfoy? Nott?” Hermione ignored the way it made her sick to ask if it was the two of them. She was sleep deprived, that had to be the reason. They were both just as likely as anyone else to be responsible for Pansy’s situation.

“Those two?” Pansy laughed and almost snorted, surprising herself. “I’m not their type. I don’t think either of them has ever even kissed a witch.”

Hermione snorted in disbelief at that, but didn’t argue the point. “Then who?”

“It’s not anyone from my house. They’d never… And he…he doesn’t know…about the baby.” Pansy began to cry again. “We were seeing each other last year in secret and then we slept together before the battle just the one time, so sure we would die. And now he’s marrying someone else.” Pansy looked up at the ceiling like someone might come and save her. She shook her head again, her dark hair falling into her face.

Hermione sat still in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“I broke it off with him after the battle, I told him that he deserved better than me. That I would just drag his name down and he tried to argue with me, but I refused to listen and eventually he gave up. And then…and then…I realised I was pregnant. And I was going to tell him, I was..but he’s already found someone else.” Pansy swallowed roughly. “I was too late. I waited too long, but I miss him…I miss him so much.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say so she didn’t say anything. She just rubbed Pansy’s back in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

Fucking Pureblood wizards, Hermione was certain one of them was to blame for Pansy’s predicament. She wasn’t certain that she believed Pansy that it wasn’t a Slytherin, but there were only so many possibilities of wizards who had been at Hogwarts last year and were now engaged. She’d figure out who it was and then she was going to hex his bollocks off.

Hermione looked at Pansy, her eyes swollen from crying and hated that someone had turned such a fierce witch into a victim.

She hated the bloody patriarchy.

******

Eventually later in the night, Hermione had managed to get Pansy back into her bed and had tucked her in. When she had started to head back to her own room, Pansy’s voice stopped her.

“Granger, please don’t go.” It was the loneliness in Pansy’s voice that got to Hermione and made her stop.

Hermione nodded even though Pansy couldn’t see her in the darkened room and crawled in bed with the other witch.

“I’m sorry if I smell awful,” Pansy apologised.

“Pansy, please shut up and go to sleep,” Hermione mumbled, quickly falling to sleep herself hoping she didn’t have another dream that ended up with her hands in her knickers while she was in Pansy’s bed, that would simply be too mortifying to live down.

*****

Hermione tried to sneak out of Pansy’s room before anyone else was awake, but of course she failed horribly at that. Her robe was tied tightly about herself, but she was clearly coming from one of the other dorm rooms when Nott caught her.

“Where did you sleep last night, Hermione?” He asked her, his voice quiet and angry, blue eyes flashing with barely leashed rage. Had he ever said her first name before? She didn’t think so and she especially didn’t care for how he made it sound like a blasphemy.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Hermione asked him venomously. “What gives you the right to ask me that question?”

She was confused as she watched the emotions flash over his face: a sudden shocked awareness, sorrow then self-loathing. He shook himself, “You are right. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you. I should never…” He trailed off, turning away from her.

The complete one-eighty was discombobulating.

For some reason the sadness made her want to comfort him, which made no sense, he had just accused her of who knew what, but that didn’t stop her from reaching out and grabbing his wrist, so large in her petite hand.

“Nott, stop,” Hermione whispered, confused and very uncomfortable with her body’s reaction to him. Her skin tingled where she touched him. She wanted to pull him closer to her. Her robe felt scratchy on her breasts, her skin overheating and it was all his fault, she knew it. Her heart felt like it might explode inside her chest.

He turned back and looked down at his wrist in confusion. “I was with Pansy, she wasn’t doing okay. We had a sleepover of sorts.” She exhaled in frustration, pulling her hand back. “Not that it’s any of your business.” She crossed her arms in a huff.

“Is she okay?” Nott asked, concern in his eyes.

Hermione wanted to lie to him, but couldn’t seem to force the words past her lips so the truth slipped out. “No, but at least she is sleeping now. I’m not certain she’ll be up in time for potions. Maybe you or Goyle could make up an excuse for her.”

“Granger…Hermione…” Theo stepped closer to her. “Do you know what’s wrong with my friend? She won't tell me, won't confide in any one from our house. Has she confided in you?”

Hermione found herself wanting to tell him, she wanted to tell him everything that Pansy had told her last night, but she needed to keep Pansy’s secret and there was always the possibility of someone listening.

Hermione nodded, but said nothing else, not wanting to lie for some reason. It was so strange. The look on his face was so sincere he really did care, she should just tell him. He could probably help her find the wizard responsible. He had been here last year; he might be able to reason out who had gotten Pansy in the family way.

Her mind fogged up a little, the edges of the hall around them seemed to blur just a little as though she was back in her dream.

I could help you if you just let me. A deep voice sounded in her head. Hermione wanted to believe that.

She took a step closer to him involuntarily. Merlin, he smelled good. Her nipples hardened. Her gaze flickered to his lips, the sensations of his beard grazing her skin last night in her dream came back to her vividly.

He stepped closer to her. He was so much taller than she was, she’d have to stand on tiptoe to kiss him. The thought of his kisses when she was awake made her clench her thighs.

Breathlessly, she whispered. “I can’t tell you. I won't betray her trust.” She licked her lips, they felt so dry.

In the husky voice from her dreams, he murmured back. “I understand. You are a good friend, I’m glad Pansy has you.”

She nodded again, the praise bringing tears to her eyes for some reason.

His hand came up next to her cheek and was so close that she could feel the warmth coming from his palm, but he didn’t touch her. His hand fell back down to his side, and the words that fell from his lips felt like a vow, “If you ever need anything from me, all you need to do is ask.”

Then he turned and disappeared back into his dorm room.

Hermione stood there for a few minutes, breathing heavily, feeling more confused than ever. What on earth had just happened? Had she actually been hoping that Theo Nott was going to kiss her? She needed to get a grip on herself, so she fled into her room and locked the door behind her.

*******

Theo cast Silencio on the room, before he punched the wall again and again. Livid with himself for losing control, he shook with rage. She’d been glassy eyed and desperate for him. But he had manipulated her. He was the worst sort of monster. He didn’t want to take away her free will, that wasn’t how he wanted her.

The Veela part of him chafed at the restrictions. Theo could feel it pushing him to go back to her right now. She was certainly wet and receptive to him. He could have her before dawn broke if he would just…

No!

His fist slammed into the wall.

He wouldn’t.

He could never do that.

The throbbing in his hand almost made him forget that he very nearly had.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen

Double potions as Malfoy’s partner was not as bad as she was imagining it would be. He kept his comments civil. His note taking was good and he willingly went into the supply closet to get all their brewing ingredients.

“I’m taller, Granger, It just makes sense.” As she looked up at him, she acknowledged that he was right with a shrug of her shoulders. By the time the class session was over, a few things had occurred to Hermione. First of all, Draco Malfoy wasn’t a terrible potions partner. He listened, he had excellent understanding of the material and he did more than his fair share of the work. Second of all he was witty, he made her chuckle more than once with his comments at their professor’s expense. Finally, he had very very nice hands. She tried to ignore her brain when it imagined those long elegant fingers twisted in her hair or wrapped around her throat. She didn’t even know where the latter thought had come from.

She was a little horrified at the direction her brain had attempted to travel. It wasn’t that she had never read any smutty books because she had, but obviously her hormones were running haywire. Last night she had wanted Theo Nott to kiss her and how she was imagining what Draco Malfoy could do with those hands.

*******

Hermione didn’t want to eat, but she decided to make herself go to lunch and have something, because it was an exceptionally long day for her and the last thing that she needed was to faint on the stairs or something similarly foolish.

“Hey Neville,” Hermione said, sitting down next to him and picking up a late summer apple to munch into. It’s smell reminded her a little too much of Malfoy and her eyes flickered to the Slytherin table almost against her will. Nott and Malfoy were there, but they were arguing with Zabini and Pansy about something with the rest of the snakes listening rapt. She wondered what topic had gotten them all so passionate.

“Hey Hermione,” Neville smiled. “You look like you are doing much better today.”

“I am, but hey I have a question. It’s about last year, do you think that you could help me out?”

“Sure?” Neville asked warily.

“So who that fought on our side here last year is already engaged? Just wizards.” Hermione tried to feel comfortable with Neville pouring her juice, but it still felt awkward for him to do such a thing.

“Wizards…who are engaged…do you mean that they have already signed marriage contracts? Or those who have exchanged formal courtship gifts?”

“Formal courtship gifts?” Hermione asked, her nose wrinkling in distaste, it sounded absolutely archaic.

“Usually jewellery like a necklace, bracelet, earrings, that sort of thing, not a ring though, those are specifically for after engagements have been formalised. For example if I was interested in marrying you, which I am not - no offence Hermione, I just consider you more like a sister - I’d give you a piece of jewellery you could wear daily, and then if you accepted it and then actually wore it then, that meant that you accepted my overture and then we’d move to the next stage of contract negotiations to then establish a real engagement with a ring.”

“So the jewellery is the witch’s chance to say yes or no before actually being engaged?” Hermione asked, interested in spite of herself.

“Absolutely,” Neville agreed. “In the more traditional Wizarding families the jewellery can be given by the father of the prospective groom to the father of the prospective bride, but the bride to be would still need to wear the jewellery in a public setting for the acceptance to count.”

Hermione sighed, this was much more complicated than she had originally realised. “Okay fine, so tell me both. Who’s signed contracts and who’s given out jewellery?”

“Well Ernie gave Tracey Davis earrings and she’s been wearing them everyday.” Neville started ticking people off on his fingers.

“Tracey? Isn’t she a Slytherin?” Hermione considered the possibility that Ernie could be the father of Pansy’s baby, he obviously wasn’t anti-snakes. Would he get one Slytherin pregnant, and then choose another for a prospective bride?

“She is, but her mum is a muggleborn, so she’s a half-blood. Her kids will be considered Purebloods if she marries Pure though, but Ernie’s family aren’t sticklers like that.”

Hermione made a noise of acknowledgement, not sure how she felt about what Neville was telling her, and sipped her pumpkin juice.

“Zacharias Smith signed a contract with a girl from Beauxbatons, supposedly, but Dean and Seamus don’t think that she’s real. Terry Boot gave Susan Bones jewellery and she accepted it, but she hasn’t worn it yet and it’s been a few weeks and he’s sweating it a bit. I heard McLaggen gave Parvati jewellery and she turned him down flat, didn’t even take the box, left him standing there like a fool.”

“She’s probably expecting Ron to give her something, Ron was shagging her at my parents’ wake,” Hermione said to Neville without emotion.

“Merlin’s beard!” Neville exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise. “Is that why you two broke-up? I’m so sorry! Ron is such an idiot, he’ll never get anyone even close to as good as you are.” Neville frowned. “I don’t understand why Ginny is being so awful to you when Ron did you wrong.” Hermione didn’t know how to respond so she just nodded.

“Thanks Neville, anyone else?” She pressed, she did not want to talk about Ron at the moment, or at all really.

“Not on our side, although most people are like me trying to figure something out before June. Goyle signed a contract with Bulstrode I heard and the rumour mill says that Zabini is about to give Luna a necklace any day. He asked Luna what her favourite stone was in front of Hannah apparently, and she needed to tell the whole free world. Still though, that’s a big surprise. Zabini and Luna…He’s friends with Malfoy and Luna was…you know.” Hermione nodded she did know. She wondered if Zabini had visited the Manor while Luna had been a prisoner in the dungeon, wouldn’t that be awkward? She shook her head, some things would never make sense if she lived to be five hundred.

“Are you currently looking for a witch though? I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging around with Hannah more, she’s pretty nice,” Hermione commented, she was no matchmaker but she could still help out her friend with what seemed like something very important to his culture.

“She is, but I just really don't think that she’s the one for me. I know she’s expecting me to give her jewellery and I’m pretty certain she's told people she expects contract negotiations to start soon, but I just…the more time I spend with her, the less I want to spend forever with her.” Neville complained, in frustration.

“I’d tell you that there’s no rush and there’s plenty of fish in the sea,” Hermione laughed, “But clearly I’m wrong about both of those things. I didn’t realise there was this big Pureblood matrimonial race.”

“Well normally we would not have been in school this year and it would have been a lot easier to find a wife. There would be galas, balls and celebrations and a lot of the courting would have happened in those settings and not here at Hogwarts. All this drama must be driving McGonagall spare.”

Hermione frowned, realising it was just one more part of the Pureblood world that she was never going to be included in. She should be glad, she would be spared from having to marry young, before she had even figured out her life. But would there be anyone for her when she was ready to settle down? Did anyone even think of her at all when they thought of who’d they’d want to spend forever with?

Trying to keep herself from getting depressed again, Hermione checked off on her fingers: Ernie, Zacharias and Terry Boot. One of those three had to be Pansy’s baby’s father. She was still considering which hex to use on the person who had abandoned her new friend while she listened to Neville complain about Ginny’s behaviour lately with half an ear.

*****

Runes was relatively uneventful with the professor just lecturing about the different Runic families that they were going to be looking at during the year. The possibility of some field trips later in the year to look at runestones in the wild was discussed and Hermione got excited about that in spite of herself. She raised her hand to ask a question about the potential field trips and Nott’s deep chuckle behind her had her turning in her seat to frown.

“Swot,” he mouthed in her direction.

“Takes one to know one,” she mouthed back. The smile that spread on his face caused his blue eyes to glow with mischief. He took her breath away. Her own answering smile was a surprise. She hadn’t felt her face grin in a long time. Turning back in her seat, Hermione felt a little bubble of joy floating up inside of her. She didn’t know what was more unnerving, how foreign the sensation felt in her chest or that it was caused by Nott.

She quickly escaped from the classroom when the class was over, barely shoving her things into her satchel before she did so.

She took the stairs as quickly as she could trying to get to the Astronomy classroom before the rest of the class. She just wanted to go back to her room, but she only had one last class to make it through first, she could do it.

“Hey Granger,” a voice came from behind her, “You forgot this in Runes.” Draco Malfoy stood there blushing awkwardly as he held out her eagle quill. Harry had gotten it for her for Christmas a couple of years before and she really did love it. How had she managed to lose it?

“Oh, thank you Malfoy.” She reached for it and their fingertips touched for just a second, she felt a shock go through her and pulled her hand back.

She must be touch starved with the way she reacted first to Nott and now with Malfoy, what was wrong with her?

“Thank you,” she repeated herself again and fled into the classroom.

******

Draco stood there with his hand still extended like a fool for a few breaths. Theo’s voice behind him pulled him back to himself.

“Draco?” Theo called. “Are you alright?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” Draco turned and smiled reassuringly at his mate, wishing that he would get a grip on himself, sooner rather than later. That witch was going to drive him mad with longing.

******

Astronomy’s lecture was long and Hermione couldn’t focus for the life of her. Malfoy’s touch and Nott’s infectious smile played through her senses on repeat. She wanted to obliviate herself of everything about both of them. She’d sworn off Pureblood wizards no matter how pretty they were and how their strange behaviour towards her could almost be mistaken for concern, like they wanted to take care of her.

That would just be madness. That couldn’t be what was going on. It was impossible.

******

Thursday morning dawned obnoxious and bright and Hermione soon joined Luna who was waiting for her just outside the door to the eighth year dorm just as she had been the week before. They walked together in silence for most of the walk until Hermione couldn’t take it anymore.

“So, Zabini?” Hermione asked Luna as they walked down to the outdoor classroom, she knew Luna would appreciate going directly to the point. “I mean Luna, what could you possibly have in common?”

“He loves his mother. I loved my mother.” Luna offered, with a shrug. “He’s very interested in everything I have to say and never accuses me of making things up. He complimented my radish earrings and my spectrespecs.”

Hermione supposed that Luna would like someone who would be a good listener.

“But Luna, according to what Neville explained to me you’re just a few steps away from being engaged, how do you know that he’ll always stay a good listener?”

“Hermione, there are no guarantees when it comes to wizards,” Luna sighed, giving Hermione a knowing look. Unfortunately Hermione knew perfectly well that there were indeed no guarantees when it came to men, or anything really. She tried to squash down the sadness about her parents. “And though he’s asked me what my favourite stone was, he hasn’t given me anything yet. So there’s no guarantee that we will have any future at all until he does.”

“Well he’d be foolish not to, Luna, you are a catch.” Hermione encouraged her friend even though she wasn’t at all sure about Slytherins, but Luna had a knack for seeing a person’s true nature, both the good and the bad. So if she thought that Zabini was good enough for her then Hermione trusted her judgement.

Luna linked her arm with Hermione’s and laughed brightly. “And so are you, darling friend. Has anyone caught your eye? I’ve noticed Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott both watching you. And Draco’s marriage contract was dissolved.”

“Luna, I have zero interest in Pureblood wizards.” Hermione frowned.

“Well that doesn’t mean that they have zero interest in you.” Luna commented knowingly, looked up and her face brightened as the dark Slytherin who was slowly stealing her heart appeared.

“la mia bellezza,” Zabini smiled back at the ethereal blonde witch with a small bow. “The morning is more beautiful now with you here.”

“Blaise Zabini, you are a shameless flatterer.” Luna blushed and looked even more pretty, a confidence appearing that Hermione hadn’t seen before. Maybe Zabini was good for her.

“I was wondering if you would sit with me for class and if you would be willing to go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday,” the wizard asked her, his nervousness only visible in a slight tremble of his fingers.

“Yes to both I believe.” Luna abandoned Hermione and took up Zabini’s arm, leaving her behind as they walked off together. “So what were you thinking about doing in Hogsmeade?”

Hermione sighed. Alone again.

It seemed like everyone was leaving her behind.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

Hermione watched the thestrals play in their paddock after class and felt a little forlorn. Across the paddock, she caught a glimpse of Theo Nott feeding some of the thestral colts through the fence and she couldn’t control her curiosity enough to keep herself from walking around their enclosure.

“What are you doing?” She asked instead of a greeting.

Nott looked up at her in surprise, “Granger, hey I didn’t see you.” He showed her his bucket of cubed meat that he had in his hands. “The smell of the thestrals must have distracted me. I’m feeding the little ones.” Hermione looked at him in confusion, but decided not to ask.

“What kind of meat is that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Better not to ask. I got it from Hagrid,” Nott smiled. And Hermione chuckled in response, because knowing Hagrid it could be absolutely anything. “Did you want to help me feed the babies?” Nott asked, cautiously as though he was afraid of offending her.

She had been rather nasty to him hadn’t she, Hermione realised. He hadn’t done anything in particular to earn her bad temper except be born a Pureblood wizard and that was hardly his fault.

“I’d love to,” she surprised herself by realising that was the truth. They took turns hand feeding the meat to the little thestrals. Their teeth were a bit disconcerting, but they seemed able to differentiate Hermione’s hand from the food. She swallowed a giggle when one of the smaller ones licked the blood from her palm.

“Thanks for taking care of Pansy the other night, Granger,” Nott offered as he tossed a bit of meat to one of the more nervous colts that lingered towards the back of the group. “I really appreciate it. She doesn’t let people in, but she seems to have really taken a liking to you.”

Hermione blushed as she fed some of the smaller babies so that she could turn her face away from him. “I’ve been enjoying Pansy’s friendship as well,” Hermione admitted. “Even though she’s taken it upon herself to improve my hair and makeup.”

“She does that, but watch out, she’s the one that convinced Draco to use all that gel the first couple years of school, so she’s not infallible.” Nott laughed and Hermione had to admit that he was very handsome when he did. “Although she’d probably deny to her last breath that she was responsible for the gel now.”

“She said something about curl defining potions, but I’ll make sure to be cautious.” Hermione watched Nott from under her eyelashes while scratching the muzzle of one of the thestrals. “I was surprised that you were still taking Care of Magical Creatures. Are you planning to do something that you’ll need the NEWT?”

Nott shrugged. “I’m Lord Nott now. Everything in the estate is my responsibility. From the smallest magical creature to the biggest vault. It just made sense.”

Hermione sighed. Of course, more Pureblood nonsense, she thought in annoyance. It bloody figured that Nott was a lord. He looked like one didn’t he? He was taller and broader than most of the other eighth years, she could picture him on the cover of one her mum’s old romances. Hermione tried to ignore the pain that thinking of her mum stabbed into her chest.

They both reached into the meat bucket at the same time and their hands touched when she accidentally grabbed his hand instead of a chunk of meat. Electricity flooded her body from the contact and her eyes met Theodore Nott’s. He was holding his breath as he stared at her, his expression blank.

Hermione yanked her hand back, “I should go it's, um almost time for herbology. Thanks for letting me help.” She turned and nearly ran towards the castle, leaving Nott watching her go.

*****

She’d touched him.

Him.

Of course, she’d run away immediately afterwards, but he’d take what he could get. He tossed the last few pieces of meat to the waiting thestrals and then wandlessly scourgifying his hands, before hanging the bucket on the post for Hagrid. He wiped his hands unnecessarily on his trousers and turned to walk up towards the greenhouses. He tried to steel himself for watching Longbottom and Granger together in Herbology. He knew the other wizard was a good man, and if the rumour mill was anything to go by he would be proposing to that Hufflepuff soon, but Theo would be damned if he just let him take his mate from him.

*****

Hermione spent most of Herbology and dinner thinking about that accidental touch. Neville had to give her a copy of his herbology notes, which was unlike her and had earned her a concerned look from the other Gryffindor. Her eyes kept flicking to Nott and Malfoy at their station. Nott was studiously not looking at her, but Malfoy’s grey eyes wandered to her again and again.

Later that night, Hermione stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

She wasn’t sure why she was set against Nott in the first place.

It was uncomfortable to realise that she had no valid reason other than him being Pureblood and male. She vaguely wondered if she should hold his new lordship against him too.

However, he’d never teased or tormented her like Malfoy had done before the war, but even that had stopped after the Quidditch World Cup. Malfoy was so subdued these days. What had Luna said? His marriage contract had been revoked? Dissolved? That had to have been a blow to his astronomical ego. Though he had been very polite to her so far this year, dare she say she even was looking forward to their next potions session.

She thought back all the way to her encounter with Nott on the train and realised he was always just concerned for her. She must have been a sight, angrily cursing out Ginny that she couldn’t even keep her balance on the moving train. Then Nott was just there, catching her as she fell, and instead of thanking him she continued to take her anger on the Weasley's out on him.

Gods, she had so much apologising to do to him, that is if she could manage an actual conversation without her anger flaring up, she thought guiltily. She should make it up to him somehow. But how? Perhaps she could try giving him a chance, they had Alchemy together in the morning. She could sit next to him. What’s the worst that could happen?

*****

Hermione slid into the seat next to Nott and Malfoy at the back of the room as their French professor began writing on the blackboard.

“Good morning,” she chirped, as though it was perfectly normal for her to sit next to them.

“Morning, Granger,” Nott said with a smile. “Might I ask why you have graced us with your presence this morning?”

“This is Alchemy, correct?” Hermione asked with a smile of her own.

“Yes.” Hermione hadn’t realised that Nott had a dimple in his left cheek, it was overly endearing. Maybe sitting this close had been a dangerous prospect.

“Well, I didn’t recall there being assigned seats in this class,” Hermione raised her chin defiantly. “Was I wrong?”

“Not at all,” Nott grinned at her. “You’re welcome to sit with us any time.”

“You just let Nott speak for you, Malfoy?” Hermione asked the blonde who hadn’t even looked up at her yet.

“Usually, it’s for the best,” Malfoy answered without looking over at her, carefully organising his quill, inkwell and parchment for the class that was about to start. “He’s far less likely to put his foot in his mouth than I am.”

Hermione snorted and began working on getting her own things ready for class.

*****

She had to have been ridiculously hungover the week before because otherwise there was no excuse for realising that their professor was a leering creep. He was easily double her age and the way that he looked at her like he was undressing her with his eyes made her skin crawl. It wasn’t just because he was French either because she’d met a number of Fleur’s relatives at the wedding and none of them had behaved so predatorily towards younger witches. She bet that Madame Maxine had been thrilled to get rid of him for the year and was hoping he wouldn’t return. He really had no business being a professor.

Nott had practically vibrated in indignation when Professor Almour had touched her shoulder. He looked more offended than she felt, she really had misjudged Nott. Even Malfoy wrinkled his nose in distaste at the professor’s behaviour and looked as though he had been about to say something before shaking his head and returning to his notes.

She was going to have to talk to McGonagall about this if it kept up.

****

Theo wanted to rip the wizard’s throat out. He wanted to Avada him where he stood and then piss on his corpse. Granger had been completely uncomfortable with the professor’s behaviour and had edged her chair closer to him. Him! That had really been the only bright spot in the class.

How he was going to tolerate this class for the next year he did not know. He doubted he’d learn a thing, he was far too focused on keeping his little mate safe from the wizard in the front of the room. And she was close enough he could breathe in the vanilla scent of her, maybe someday soon he would look over at her and she’d be wearing jewellery from his vaults, maybe a nice set of black pearls or a strand of cherry amber to match her eyes.

Yes. That would be nice.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

Draco was fairly positive that he was going to end up having a hand in hiding their Alchemy professor’s body at some point over the next year. He wasn’t mad about it, but the fact simply seemed inevitable. He honestly wasn’t certain whether it was going to be Granger or Theo who would be the one that would inevitably avada the wizard. It could go either way. They could both be a bit unnervingly scary when they set their mind to it.

He packed up his things as the class ended, carefully watching Granger’s stiffened body language as the professor called her to the front for a one-on-one chat. She clutched at her bag tightly as he spoke with her and Draco decided that getting involved was the best plan possible.

“Granger, we have to go over our Arithmancy project outline before our next class which is in less than an hour, are you coming?” Draco asked, a manufactured tone of annoyance in his voice. Theo watched from behind him and Draco could feel his eyes on him and wondered whether Theo’s expression revealed any of the turmoil that Draco could sense through the mate bond.

The annoyed professor looked at him as though he was going to say something, until Hermione smiled brightly at Draco and then at their instructor.

“Oh of course, Malfoy, you’ll have to excuse me Professor. As instructive as I find our discussion, I still have another class today. Thank you so much for your time, sir.” She replied, her smile forced.

Once out of the room, Draco was shocked when Granger took his arm and sighed gratefully. “Thank you so much Malfoy for getting me out of that. Was he such a creep last week?”

Draco nodded in affirmative and wondered how the hell she hadn’t noticed until now, but it was Theo who responded, “Absolutely, yes.”

Granger grimaced. “I was so excited about learning Alchemy too.”

“I was as well,” Draco admitted.

Granger sighed again and leaned into Draco. His heart rate picked up excitedly at her seeking comfort from him.

“Arithmancy is next though.” Theo laughed. “I think we are all doing fine there.”

Hermione nodded contently.

But Draco groaned when he remembered. “We have Muggle Studies after that.” Theo made a noise like vomiting.

“Is it that bad?” Granger asked, grimacing, “Gods rest Burbage but I don’t remember good things about that class when I took it third year.”

“It’s probably worse now,” Draco admitted. "The text isn't terrible, but the new professor is less than eloquent."

"I counted the times that she said ‘um’ last week and it was more than a hundred fifty," Theo added.

"That's horrendous." Hermione looked aggrieved, as though a bad professor was a personal insult to her.

"I'd worry less if Muggle Studies wasn't required for all of Slytherin House," Draco sighed.

“What do you mean, it's required?”

“Well Granger, they assume we are all Pureblood supremacists who need to be educated on all things Muggle for our own good,” Theo stated. “We’ve also assumed they mean we need to pass our NEWTs and that’s going to be impossible with the current professorial style.”

“Even the half-bloods have to take Muggle Studies?” Hermione asked with the rise of an eyebrow.

“Even the half-bloods.” Draco confirmed.

“Well that’s ridiculous.”

The three of them walked into Arithmancy as an easy going trio, and Draco allowed himself to imagine that this was how they could be all the time. Granger let Theo pull out her chair and then they both sat next to her. Professor Vector didn't even seem to notice their silent camaraderie, but scolded some other students that hadn't sat in their project groups. Draco watched Granger’s elegant scrawl take shape in her notes and wondered what it would be like to have those ink covered fingertips move over his skin.

Draco adjusted the way he was sitting as his thoughts caused all his blood to run south. Theo must have sensed his excitement through the bond as he covertly threw him a quick wink and smirk.

He barely heard anything that Professor Vector said during the lesson, simply allowing his hand to copy what she wrote on the board without any of it taking root in his brain.

"Can I come with you two to Muggle Studies?" Granger asked as they were packing up their things as Arithmancy finished.

"Why on earth would you want to do such a thing?" Draco asked her in confusion. “We’ve already told you that it’s hellish.”

“Well how can I complain properly if I don’t know exactly what’s going on?” The swotty little princess smiled sunnily. And what was to complain about if they had one more class period with her at their side?

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty

"Hello Professor Carmoody," Hermione greeted without preamble as they entered the Muggle Studies classroom together, the three of them walking in sync. "Is it alright if I audit the class?"

"Miss Granger, I'm very surprised to see you here.” The professor blinked multiple times in confusion. “Of course, of course. Please sit wherever you would like."

Hermione sat in between Draco and Theo, earning looks from the rest of the Slytherins as they filtered into the room. She of course didn’t bother to acknowledge any of them other than an overly pale Pansy, who gave her a sceptical look complete with a single raised eyebrow before she sat next to Millicent Bulstrode.

Hermione let the professor drone on for a good thirty minutes before she raised her hand, clearly shocking the professor whose voice just trailed off from the circular monologue that she was having about their Muggle Studies term project.

"Professor can you please explain to me exactly what this project entails? I'm not particularly clear on what the students are supposed to do." Hermione smiled brightly at the woman who she was convinced was either horribly nervous, completely incompetent or perhaps a combination of the two of them.

Professor Carmoody gave a similar disjointed reply. Hermione sighed in frustration and decided the best thing to do would be to translate the woman’s nonsense into something comprehensible.

"So my classmates are supposed to attend a Muggle arts, music or cultural event and bring back some sort of flyer and then discuss what the event was like and explain it to the class in a way that relates it to something similar in the wizarding world. Is that correct, professor?”

“Why yes-yes, Miss Granger. And if desired for extra credit, the student could make a poster about the event.”

“Hmmm,” Hermione said. “What sort of information should go on the poster?”

“Where, what, that sort of thing, I suppose.”

Hermione restrained her desire to roll her eyes at the woman’s complete lack of clarity. “So the five w’s? Who, what, when, where, why is it important and how did they get there?” Hermione asked.

“Why yes, Miss Granger. That would be more than adequate.”

“And do they all have to go to a different event, or can we go to the same event?”

Professor Carmoody looked at Hermione in wide eyed confusion. “What…why…”

“Do they need to attend different events or can they go to the same one?” Hermione asked again in slow measured breaths, pushing down the urge to hex the woman.

“I won't be requiring different events for this project, but next term, I may.”

“Splendid. Will we be getting an off-campus pass for this?” Hermione kept her voice overly cheery.

Professor Carmoody scoffed. “Miss Granger, I hardly think you need an off campus pass.”

Hermione swallowed back her desire to snort.

“What about the rest of the class?” Hermione asked in her sweetest voice while simultaneously wanting to scream.

“Oh I suppose I will have to give everyone off campus passes,” the obvious seemed to have finally dawned on her.

Hermione nodded, holding back her urge to roll her eyes by sheer force of will.

Hermione leaned over and whispered to Theo, “Spread the word to meet in the 8th year common room tonight after dinner. I have a plan.” Theo and Draco merely nodded.

*****

“It’s really unfair that Professor Carmoody has assigned this project after the majority of British music festivals have ended. Those would have been much more fun and relevant to things that Muggle teens do at a similar age, but no matter. We have a few different options and I’m happy to arrange for all three. We can go see a play in the West End in London. The Wizarding World doesn’t quite have anything on the same scale, so that one may be difficult to compare, but I think it would be enjoyable. We could go see an opera, which I think wouldn’t be such a shock to your pureblood sensibilities. The dress code is very formal for muggles, and it’s something that I think even most of your parents could tolerate, considering the proliferation of things like private boxes. And finally, English heritage will open up Stonehenge to visitors for a few hours on the morning of the fall equinox. Stonehenge is an ancient stone circle where Muggles congregate multiple times per year to celebrate the turning of the seasons.”

Hermione realised, after she had rambled all of that out without really taking a breath, that she must have been nervous. To be fair, she was standing in front of all of her peers from the Muggle Studies class she’d just attended and they were looking at her with something similar to desperation on their faces.

Draco raised his hand. All of the Slytherins stared at him, then at her expectantly as though they were watching a game of Quidditch.

“Yes Malfoy,” Hermione gestured for him to speak.

“I don’t know about the others, but I have no idea how to decide between these three choices. Can we go to all three and then perhaps Carmoody will give us extra credit?”

There were mutters of agreement from around her, so Hermione shrugged.

Why not? What else did she have going on? Not a thrice-blasted thing.

“Two of the three options are just in London, so we could likely travel by floo to the Leaky Cauldron and go from there. I can get a schedule of shows, opera performances and we can go from there,” Hermione was already making mental notes of what needed to be done.

“Granger,” Pansy called out. “What will we wear?”

“It really depends on the outing,” Hermione replied.

“I have some mail order catalogues,” Tracey admitted. “But I doubt there is anything suitable for the Opera there.”

“Oh you’re right. Maybe we will need to make a weekend of it and go do some shopping, and see a show. We could stay in a nice hotel afterwards and come back the next day. I’ll put together some options.”

“Granger, you are positively brilliant,” Theo stated, everyone else nodding in agreement. “We’d be lost without you.”

Hermione felt a flock of butterflies fluttering inside her body at his words and the appreciation of all the Slytherins as they headed out was heartfelt. Goyle shook her hand for Godric’s sake and even Daphne Greengrass didn’t insult her as she left.

This was just the sort of project she had needed to feel needed.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Hermione went to bed early that Friday night, but sleep evaded her. None of the books in her stack could engross her for more than a paragraph, and she soon abandoned the attempt at using her insomnia for something useful. She tossed and turned most of the night, but didn’t want to reach for a vial of dreamless sleep.

Sometime around one in the morning, she decided to give up on sleeping and got up to go make herself some chamomile tea. The eighth year kitchenette was generally kept pretty well stocked by the Hogwarts elves, she was sure she would find the coveted tea there.

She ignored the bottle of fire whiskey in her open trunk as she didn't want to get drunk for a change. Drunk sleep wasn’t the most restful anyway even with a sober up and abundant access to water. Wrapping herself in her robe, she peered out the door into the hall. The last thing she wanted was to run into some of the Gryffindors who had been particularly unpleasant lately.

Entering the kitchenette after zero run-ins with anyone, Hermione was surprised to discover that Pansy was up as well, brewing some ginger tea with a sour expression. Her own green silk robe was tied around her body loosely but Hermione could still see the slight changes in the girl’s formerly slim figure. Her lower stomach had started to round and her breasts were definitely bigger than they had been before the war. Hermione was honestly surprised that Pansy didn’t have wizards sniffing all around her for a marriage contract. Her friend did have the reputation of being an ungodly bitch though, maybe that was keeping them away.

“Hey Pansy, what are you doing up?” Hermione asked.

“Can't sleep. Decided to get some tea, hoping against hope that it will settle my stomach.”

Preparing her cuppa, Hermione thought this might be a good time to try to get answers and asked Pansy whether McMillan was her ex-boyfriend. “So I was wondering if Ernie was the one you were dating during the war.”

Pansy laughed at the notion. “Even if I was delusional enough to be interested in him, Tracey and Ernie went to the Yule Ball together. They have been together ever since. And he'd never cheat on her. And if he did, Tracey would castrate him.” Pansy was thoughtful and then added, “We used to be closer, Tracey and I...before the war…back then I would have been the one to help her do it.”

The silence stretched on for too long after that.

“Your friends feel like you are pushing them away and keeping secrets,” Hermione confided, to break the awkward hush between them.

“Observant of them,” Pansy snorted. “And who said that to you? Was it Theo? Or Draco? Wizards who live in glass castles shouldn’t throw bezoars.”

A cough from the entryway sent both witches' eyes flying up.

Neville Longbottom was wrapped in his old red Gryffindor housecoat and standing in the doorway, staring at them in surprise, which was not unequal to theirs at finding him there.

“Hey Nev,” Hermione greeted with a slow smile. “You’re quiet as a cat. Sneaking up on us like that.”

Her eyes quickly darting away from the man in the doorway, Pansy muttered, “I have to go. Goodnight.” And she fled without ever even acknowledging Neville, her tea forgotten on the counter.

That's odd. Hermione thought in confusion.

“I didn't realise that you were friends with Pansy- ahem, Parkinson,” Neville stated as he stared down the corridor after the fleeing Slytherin witch with a thoughtful expression.

“It's a new development. She's been really nice to me, surprisingly enough,” Hermione shrugged. “You don't have a problem with it, do you Nev?”

“No of course not, why would I?” He shrugged. “You have always been a great judge of character, Hermione. You’d never be friends with someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Hermione smiled kindly at him, he truly was one of the only friends she had left. She wished that his words were true though.

She stayed for a few minutes more and she finished up fixing her tea in companionable silence before heading back to bed herself.

*******

Theo could feel the weakness in his magic and it was making him irritable. It had been creeping around the edges for the past few days, but now there was no denying that he was growing ill. Time was running out, he needed to claim his other mate, and soon if he wanted to live.

Pacing, growling, unable to sit still, not even wanting to risk going out for a flight. The last thing he needed was his disillusionment spell to fail him while he glided over the Forbidden Forest. His wings making a front page appearance in the Daily Prophet didn’t particularly appeal to him. His wings were twitching, wanting to unfurl in the small room and he ached to be outside.

“Theo, come to bed,” Draco called sleepily. “You shouldn't be going out in the state that you are in.” His pale arm reached for Theo, waving beckoningly.

Theo growled low in his throat and wanted to argue, but couldn’t. Draco was right.

He stripped off his joggers and shirt crawling into bed, hopeful that Draco’s skin against his would help. It did.

He might not have Hermione, his other mate, but he had Draco, and he needed to take care of him too. He began kissing and licking the blonde, humming at his taste. Draco whimpered beneath him, his cock waking up. Yes, that’s what he needed right now, his mate’s cock.

Theo stripped them off their boxers and began going down on Draco, sucking his cock. Draco was panting and clutching at Theo’s curls, “Gods yes Theo.”

Sucking Draco's cock was making Theo’s own stir, needing to be inside his mate. He released Draco’s cock with a pop, rolled his hips up to angle his arse and prepared to take him. Theo sunk into Draco, both wizards groaning with want. Once fully seated, Theo fucked Draco, putting all his pent-up energy into claiming his mate, his wings unfurling in delight, and Draco took it so well, like the good mate he is. Draco’s cock bobbed on his stomach with each thrust until he came with a loud cry all over his chest.

“Yes. That's my good boy,” Theo cooed, continuing to pound into Draco until he climaxed.

Theo let himself cum, filling his mate, wishing he could breed him, wishing Draco was enough to stave off the bloody mate sickness that was going to be the death of him so much sooner than he had thought. He thought he had more time, more time to court her, more time to make her fall in love with them.

Why did he have to have two mates? At first he thought he was lucky. Now it was just so bloody unfair.

******

After about five minutes, Hermione realised that subtly trying to have a conversation with Luna about whether Terry, Ernie or Zacharias were seeing anyone on the Slytherin side during the war last year was a lost cause.

“So Luna, I was wondering about last year,” Hermione began. “Were there any forbidden romances between our side and the Slytherins?”

“Forbidden romances?” Luna asked.

“What a strange question, Hermione.” Luna looked at her with wide unblinking eyes as they walked to Hogsmeade. And Hermione didn’t want to bring Pansy into it, but then again Luna seemed to see right through her and brought Pansy up herself, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve made friends with Pansy this year. That’s really great. She was a lot of help with avoiding the Carrows last year,” Luna smiled. “She helped keep the Room of Requirement secret. Why I think Neville would be dead if it wasn’t for her dragging him, bleeding and unconscious, to the seventh floor corridor.”

“Really?” Perhaps that was why Neville didn’t think much of Hermione’s new friendship with Pansy.

Luna nodded. “Really. Pansy is a witch you can count on. I’m surprised Neville hasn’t told you about it.”

“I’ll have to ask him,” Hermione replied. But it still didn’t answer the question of who the father of Pansy’s baby was.

******

Fucking Draco last night really should have helped Theo more than it did. As they walked down to Hogsmeade, he couldn’t seem to get his heart rate and breathing under control.

The world started to spin the way that it did when he'd had too much Ogden’s before his transformation, these days the hard liquor might as well be tea.

As Draco noticed Theo’s state, the blond reached out towards him murmuring, “Are you okay, Theo?”

Theo could only groan in pain in response.

Fuck had someone drugged him? Poisoned him? It felt like he was dying.

He stumbled forward and grabbed one of the trees, his claws started to come forward but he willed them back inside but it took five times as much energy as normal. He felt Draco’s touch, trying to help keep him steady.

Not enough. The thought flitted through his disorientation.

The world faded to blackness as the ground came rushing up to meet him.

He woke up to Hermione’s lips on his and his shirt ripped open, her hands splayed on on his chest and pumping life back into him in a steady rhythm. She was giving him her breath and he had to stop himself from claiming the lips that belonged to him.

“Fuck...Hermione…Granger…what…are…you …doing?” Theo gasped out, unsure what was wrong with him. His body was failing him. His hands shook as he struggled to regain his breath.

“Saving your life, you ungrateful twat,” she grunted as she fell backwards onto her butt and unfortunately took her soothing touch away with her.

“Theo, we need to get you back to the castle,” Draco urged, making sure to touch Theo’s bare chest as he helped right him. With the touch of both his mates, Theo felt better, but nowhere near the state of health he should be in.

“Thank you, Granger,” Draco said to Hermione as he began pushing Theo back towards Hogwarts.

“Thank you,” Theo also rasped at the witch, her golden eyes looking at him with so much concern. He could have sworn she took a step towards him, wanting to help more, but she stayed put with Lovegood. Theo hid how much that hurt him by hiding his face in Draco’s neck.

********

“The situation is unfortunate Mr. Nott,” Madam Pomfrey stated with a bit of sadness in her voice. “You must know that your prognosis is not very good…well given the state of everything.”

“I'm well aware that I am going to die,” Theo responded flatly.

Hermione, who had ultimately decided to follow Theo and Draco back to back Hogwarts and was now hiding out of sight behind one of the privacy screens and cloaked under three layers of disillusionment charms, bit her fist so as to not make a sound. She couldn’t have imagined that she would overhear something so troubling. She ought to have cast a silencio on herself.

“Perhaps if you told me who I could speak to, explain the situation…” The matron began again.

“Thank you for your kind offer,” Theo cut her off. “But no, I won't be an obligation. I'll just have good days and bad days from now on. There's nothing that can be done about it.”

Nothing that can be done about it.

Nothing that can be done about it.

Nothing that can be done about it.

The words rang in Hermione’s mind and her parents’ graves flashed before her vision. It was all just too much. She couldn’t be here anymore listening to Theo be so flippant about his death. She’d only just decided that she could be friends with him. She’d thought that the end of the war meant that her friends were going to stop dying. She’d obviously been wrong.

She started to cry and ran out, nearly running into Draco on her way. He seemed somehow aware of where she was despite her disillusionment and looked confused in her direction. The lines around his grey eyes were tense.

“Stop,” he whispered as though he knew she was there, but she did not.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

“Granger was here,” Draco said offhandedly as he sat next to Theo’s bedside as though nothing in particular was wrong. 

“When? How do you know?” Theo asked, his fatigue cutting the stress that he felt from his voice. He needed to sleep, he was barely staying awake as it was.

“She was distressed, I could sense her despite the fact that she was drenched in disillusionment charms, she must have followed right behind us,” Draco recounted. 

“While it’s nice to know that she cares about me at all, it’s a bit too little too late as the muggles say,” Theo yawned. 

“You can’t mean to give up now,” Draco scoffed in annoyance. 

“I don’t mean to force her, and I doubt she’ll come to our bed any other way,” Theo sighed, his eyes flickering closed. “She deserves the freedom to choose and there is no world where she chooses me and you.” 

“I’m not going to let you die,” Draco muttered, as sleep pulled Theo under. 

******

Hermione couldn't stop the tears that were flowing down her face. She was certain that her eyes were swollen and puffy, but she still couldn’t seem to stop herself.

Her door opened and there stood Pansy with a look of concern. “What's wrong?” The raven haired witch asked with a frown. 

“I eavesdropped and now I'm paying the price,” Hermione admitted with a hiccup. 

“Did you overhear something unflattering about yourself? Because if it's that cow of a Head Girl I will hex her bald.” Pansy’s arms crossed. 

“No, it wasn't about me, it was about Theo.”

“Theo? What about Theo?” When Hermione hesitated in responding, Pansy reiterated, “Hermione, you need to tell me what's happening right now.”

******

Pansy stormed into the infirmary as soon as she and Hermione finished talking, not wasting any more time.  

“What is going on here?” Pansy hissed at Draco where he sat at Theo’s bedside.

“How did you know we were here?” Draco was surprised to see her.

“Hermione told me. How long did you think that you could keep this a secret from me?”

“We were not intentionally keeping anything a secret from you, unlike you. Keep your voice down, you will wake him.” Draco scolded. “He needs his rest.” 

“He'd be doing better if you were in bed with him.” Pansy advised with a frown. “You know that.” 

“I do, but it’s the middle of the day and dozens of people have been in and out, the last thing that he needs is…”

“A scandal?” Pansy nearly screeched. “He's dying and you are worried about a scandal?” 

Draco was a wall of occlumency, his body tense. “I'm doing what he wants.”

“Theo is a miserable little shit who doesn't know what he wants.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Hermione was being kissed in her dream, but it was more than one mouth on her lips, her throat, her skin, her nipples. Merlin, no one had ever kissed her there; it felt as though she was on fire. She had never been so wet in her life. It was embarrassing, the sounds when their fingers touched her there were obscene.

Somehow, she knew that she was begging for more, but she could not quite make out her own words.

“That's my good girl,” Theo's rich voice murmured against her ear. “Tell Daddy what you want.”

“Fuck Daddy,” Hermione gasped out, shocked that she was willing to call him such a thing. It felt taboo, dirty, even in her dream. “I don't know. I have never. I don't …can't …haven’t ever done this...” And then words were lost when she moaned, a creature of desperation and need. Those mouths and hands were driving her to levels of pleasure that she didn't know were physically possible.

Lips captured hers, and she was looking into Draco Malfoy’s silver eyes, which were eerily the same colour that Sirius’ had been. That didn't seem to stop the lust raging in her blood, though. It felt like explosions under her skin. It all felt beyond anything that anyone else had ever made her feel while she was awake.

She came apart as she felt Theo rub the leaking tip of his cock over her clit, little circles that caused her body to arch upward off the bed and…

She woke up gasping, sheets tangled around her legs and her hand in her knickers.

This was becoming a habit, and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about it, especially considering her fraught relations with Draco and Theo when she was awake. She had only recently decided to stop taking her anger with the entire male Pureblood species out on them, so why this? And why now?

What was wrong with her? Had her hormones just caught up with her since she wasn’t actively at risk of dying every day? Perhaps she should speak with Madam Pomfrey, but the thought of confronting the matron with such a personal issue had her quickly dismissing that idea.

She lay awake, her heart thumping in the quiet room.

******

“Hey Theo,” Hermione smiled as she entered the hospital wing, his classwork clutched in her hands. Theo had been confined to the hospital wing for several days already, and Hermione had found herself missing him for some unbelievable reason. So even though she knew that Malfoy was more than capable of bringing Theo notes, Hermione had decided to come herself.

“Hey Hermione,” Theo answered from where he was in bed, his pillows carefully propped up, probably by Draco before he went to class.

“I brought…um…my notes from Defence, Charms, and Transfiguration. We have some homework too, and I wrote down a spare copy.” She tried to smile, but he still looked so frighteningly unwell. His typically tan skin was sallow, and dark smudges were under his eyes.

“I don't know if I'm up for doing any homework. My vision is still a little blurry,” he admitted, unwillingly, his eyes avoiding hers.

“I could read the lecture notes to you? If you want?” Hermione couldn't understand why she was so concerned that he was going to reject her overtures. He was ill, and she was forcing herself on him; maybe he just wanted to rest, maybe it would be better if she just left.

“Oh. I would enjoy that actually. You have a great reading voice.” Theo smiled at her, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes, which were tired and flat. The spark that was usually there in the blue depths was missing.

“I don't think anyone has ever complimented that,” Hermione replied in surprise, trying to ignore how troubled his ill health made her.

“Well, most people are idiots and have no taste,” Theo said authoritatively, but shrugged, half-heartedly, his body language not matching his tone.

Hermione found herself laughing at him. He really was kind to her and she’d been an arse and now he was having health issues. They were friends… after a fashion, and she needed to be supportive. If her reading voice was enough to cheer him up, then that was what she needed to do.

“How about Transfiguration first? It has the most interesting assignment. I think I’m going to do my essay on the animagus transformation rituals.”

*****

Theo let her voice wash over him. Her proximity was soothing. He couldn’t actually get himself to focus on what she was saying, though; his mind couldn’t quite keep hold of the meaning of the words. He was exhausted, but he refused to fall asleep while he could bask in her presence.

She touched his hand; the sensation almost brought tears to his eyes. It wasn't supposed to be this intense. She looked like she wanted to ask him what was wrong, but then she changed her mind. He was grateful for the small mercies of a merciless woman.

Eventually, Madam Pomfrey brought him his food and potions, and Hermione excused herself. Theo watched her go without even the energy to call out for her to stay.

Draco returned from class to find Theo wiping at unwilling tears on his cheeks.

“Love, what’s happened?” Draco came nearer and leaned forward but held still for a second, waiting for Theo’s nod of assent.

“I hardly know,” Theo admitted, accepting Draco’s embrace without even worrying if someone was going to see them. He was probably going to die after all. What did his reputation matter? He just needed to stay alive long enough to make sure Draco wasn’t sent to Azkaban. If that were the only thing that he could do for his mate, then Theo would make it happen.

*****

It took nearly three weeks before Theo was entirely on his feet again. He’d been allowed finally to do his classwork from his bed in the dorms rather than the hospital wing, Hermione assiduously bringing him her notes every day. And if she lingered when she brought them, Theo let her, willing to bask in her company for even a moment longer.

****

Hermione hadn’t been able to acquire Stonehenge tickets for the fall equinox, but that hadn’t mattered because Theo had been on bed rest and Hermione couldn’t find it in herself to have the first outing in the Muggle world without him there. She wasn’t sure why the mere idea bothered her so much, but it did. However, she was able to arrange a different outing.

While juggling classes and planning a group trip to Muggle London, she tried to make time to write to Harry once a week, but she didn’t always have much to say. She could only talk about taking Theo his homework or working on class projects with Malfoy so much before Harry started to get suspicious, and there was nothing substantial to report there anyway. They were just friends, as unlikely as their friendship seemed at first.

Tracy had helped everyone who didn’t have any Muggle clothes place an order from her mail-order catalog, and now everyone was dressed presentably enough to go on the outing that she had planned. Hermione had everyone’s off campus passes, tickets to the Globe for tonight’s performance of As You Like It, a dinner reservation at a decent restaurant (they’d had to book a private dining room, which was honestly probably for the best anyway), and a considerable pile of pounds that she’d converted from all the galleons she had been handed since the plan started to come together, not to mention the hotel reservations. She’d booked several adjoining suites at a midrange hotel with the help of Pansy’s family’s personal Gringotts’ banker. Without Pansy’s help, Hermione doubted that Gringotts would have been anywhere near as helpful. They still appeared to be rather peeved about the dragon situation. The mitigating factor of the war seemed not to matter much at all.

But regardless, it had all been planned out until, of course, Zabini threw a wrench into matters by wanting to bring Luna along at the last minute. Bloody Zabini. Luckily, Hermione had bought a couple of extra tickets just in case. She wasn’t even sure why, but the hotel room issue was a little more complicated. She’d gotten just the right number of beds for the witches and the wizards, separate, of course. What they did after she went to bed was not her problem but she still had to present a good front to McGonagall.

“Don’t worry about it, Granger,” Zabini reassured her. “I’ll book another room for just Luna and myself, you’ll have plausible deniability, as they say.” Hermione started to argue and realised two things: 1 - She wasn’t Head Girl, so this really wasn’t her problem, and 2 - Luna was wearing black opal earrings and a matching necklace that had to have cost a small fortune. Hermione had looked at opals with her mum in Australia - her heart ached - and stones of that size would have cost a massive amount, easily thirty or forty thousand pounds for the set.

“Are the marriage contracts already signed?” Hermione asked, keeping her voice neutral.

“I’d never suggest Luna stay the night with me if they weren’t,” Blaise said, a hand to his chest as though his tender sensibilities were shocked. “That will leave one of the wizard beds open anyway, and I'm pretty sure McMillan is planning to ask to come along with Tracy.”

Hermione smiled, though really she wanted to rub at her face in exasperation. Instead, “Hey Ernie,” she greeted the wizard who was walking up.

******

“Alright, so we have everyone? Good, so the Headmistress is letting us use her floo. We’re flooing to the Leaky Cauldron, and then from there we will walk into Muggle London and take some cabs to the restaurant. Cabs are safer and easier than the tube, an underground train, to get around. Remember, no magic in front of the Muggles. We don’t want to deal with the Ministry today.” That was met with several mumbled agreements, especially from the wizards. Her eyes kept flickering to Theo, who was sitting while everyone else milled about listening to her. Draco stood still next to him, probably the most nervous of all the Purebloods.

“If you need a calming potion at any point, let me know. I have a few in my bag. Please shrink your luggage and keep it shrunk until we head to the hotel.” Hermione smiled, attempting to reassure everyone. There was a general attitude of excitement amongst the Slytherins, and Hermione thought that boded well for the evening.

*******

Hermione was nothing if not extremely conscientious. She knew where the closest cab stand to Diagon Alley was located and put three to four people into each cab, repeating the restaurant name and address to the cabbie twice and then handing the restaurant’s card to one of the wizards in the back. When it came time to get into the last cab, it was only her, Draco, and Theo remaining. As Draco helped Theo into the vehicle, she tried to swallow back the butterflies in her throat. Theo was just a friend, as was Draco, despite all the time that she had spent with them over the last few weeks. She still wasn’t quite sure what ailed Theo exactly, but it was only necessary to take one look at him to see that he was deeply unwell.

Settling in the backseat with the boys, she cast a non-verbal muffliato just to be safe, and slid the window between them and the driver closed.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, leaning forward to touch Theo’s knee. She knew it was her imagination, but it felt like he leaned into her touch.

“Tired already, but excited,” Theo admitted, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the seat. He looked particularly good in black leather pants and a black button-down shirt. He and Draco were colour coordinated like that. “My mother, she of blessed memory, was quite the fan of Shakespeare.”

“I didn’t know that,” Draco said, startled. Hermione could tell he was nearly vibrating with tension. Perhaps the conversation would help distract him from the London traffic around him.

“Ah, well, it’s never come up before. I didn’t realize he was a Muggle playwright. I thought that he was a wizard.”

“Sirius Black once told me that his parents referred to Shakespeare as that vulgar squib who believed he could have some wit. I think that was the only bit that he deemed repeatable for my innocent ears.” Hermione laughed.

“There is quite a bit of magic and magical creatures in some of his plays, so that they could have been right. Regardless, his work is quite popular with Muggles even after hundreds of years.”

“I forget that you knew my mother’s cousin so well,” Draco admitted, his silver eyes curious. “Was he as mad as they say?”

“I don’t think anyone who spends that much time in solitary confinement comes out entirely sane after twelve years,” Hermione offered. “He was…impulsive, I’d say, is a nice way of putting it. But I don’t think his sentence caused that, but rather what got him sent there in the first place.”

“The Black family madness can not be escaped,” Theo deadpanned.

“I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts on my intergenerational curses to yourself, Lord Nott,” Draco sneered, his eyes twinkling in opposition to his lips. “You wouldn’t like me throwing your secrets around in front of Hermione, now would you?”

“Touché, Draco, Touché,” Theo laughed, his eyes still closed.

*****

When they got to the restaurant, Zabini had already dealt with the hostess, and they were taking all the other witches and wizards to the private dining room in the back. The place was a little over the top, in the way that London Chinese restaurants often were, but the opulence appealed to the Slytherins, even if a great deal in the place was painted a bright lacquered red.

She’d chosen it because the restaurant had overly large servings that would be laid out similarly to a feast at Hogwarts. This would give the wizards and witches a chance to try a variety of different foods. Hermione had ordered in advance, and as soon as they were seated, the food began arriving. Hot tea and pitchers of sparkling water were brought to the table. She hadn’t ordered any alcohol, and she hoped it didn’t occur to anyone to do so. She knew from past experience that Muggle alcohol was very different from wizarding drinks, and she was already babysitting everyone, she had no desire to deal with someone drunk off their arse.

The only available seat was next to Theo, so Hermione sat there.

Hermione quickly realised that no one was plating their food, looking about nervously. So she started, plating herself some chow fun and broccoli beef. “Draco, can you pass me the rice dish next to you with the mushrooms and meat mixed in?”

“Oh, certainly, Granger.” And just like that, everyone started talking at once, the wizards plating the food for their female counterparts, just like Neville had told her Purebloods ought to. She allowed Draco to plate her food, because he looked so happy about being asked to help her. She’d only meant for him to hand her the plate, but she was already pushing them far outside of their realm of comfort. Besides his delight was a little contagious, so she found herself smiling as well.

The rest of the meal went well, with only a few of the snootier Pureblood girls complaining about the tea and the texture of the noodles.

Hermione wished that either of her two suspects for the father of Pansy’s baby were here; the Muggle setting might make them nervous enough that something would slip out. Pansy was still refusing to tell her anything. The witch in question was sitting with Daphne Greengrass, the only other witch besides Hermione without a date, at the far end of the table.

The fortunes inside the cookies were met with excitement around the table, though most of them had no idea that Muggles believed in divination. Luna was adorable with her wide smile as she showed Blaise her fortune.

“You will hear wedding bells before fall,” Luna laughed loudly. “How did they know?!”

“No idea Tesora, but well done, Granger! “ He toasted her with his tiny teacup. Hermione smiled.

*****

“So you’ve ridden in the cab with those two and now you’ve sat by them for dinner, anything that you want to tell me?” Pansy asked as they walked from the restaurant to the theatre, arm in arm. “I admit all the homework dropping off was making me suspicious.”

“I just enjoy their company,” Hermione said and when Pansy scoffed, looking pointedly at her, Hermione couldn’t help but feel sheepish.

“It's not more than that?” Pansy asked, her voice sounding serious. Pansy’s pregnancy wasn't yet showing, but she'd definitely worn a dress far looser than those the other Purebloods had chosen. Hermione wondered how long she could get away with it.

Hermione tried to laugh it off, but the thought seemed to worm its way inside her.

When she ended up sitting next to the two of them at the end of the row of seats she had booked, it didn’t seem to be a surprise either. Theo and Draco had waited for everyone else to move down the row before taking the final seats, leaving Hermione on the aisle.

She watched Draco’s expression as As You Like It progressed, Rosalind giving Orlando the love lessons brought a surprised grin to his face. She didn’t think that he’d ever smiled like that at school. In the dark theatre, Theo’s hand snuck over and held Draco’s. If Hermione hadn’t been watching, she wouldn’t have noticed, but now she seemed to have invaded their privacy.

She kept her eyes on the rest of the performance. She had thought they were just devoted best friends, but was it much more than that?

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

The play was a huge hit and Hermione was grateful for that. The Slytherins had no trouble with formal Shakespearean language, and enjoyed all the miscommunication and even Rosalind pretending to be a boy wasn’t met with anything more than a shrug.

The hotel she’d booked was also nearby, so they milled about in front of the theatre for a bit. Luna was intrigued by the posters and how all the images were still. Blaise seemed content to hold her hand as she read all of them.

Theo bummed a smoke off a Muggle man and leaned against the wall. Hermione found herself blushing at the way the cigarette sat on his lips, giving her highly inappropriate thoughts.

Having enough of the filthy direction her brain was going, she gathered everyone up and led them to the hotel. They all went into the alley and unshrunk their luggage before entering the lobby. Hermione collected the key cards from the desk, agreeing to have the concierge collect all their bags to take to their rooms for them.

All the rooms were together on the seventh floor, which made things easy enough. She immediately put Pansy in the first room as she could tell the witch was barely masking her exhaustion.

“I’ll join you as soon as I get everyone settled,” Hermione reassured her, pocketing the key to their room.

“Don’t worry about me,” Pansy replied in a whisper. “I suspect I will be asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. Stay out as late as you like.” She sent a meaningful look towards Draco and Theo, but Hermione just rolled her eyes and continued with what she needed to do. Pansy took her bag and Hermione’s from the porter and disappeared inside.

She opened room after room, handing the key to one of the occupants and then moving onto the next until the last key was handed off to Draco and Theo. They took their bag from the Muggle and Hermione tipped the man, who tipped his hat before heading back towards the lifts.

Her own exhaustion was starting to set in. Everything had gone according to plan but the whole process had been nerve wracking.

“Do you want to get a drink? The pub downstairs looks nice…” Draco suggested.

“They won't have fire whiskey or butterbeer.” Hermione pointed out, reasonably she thought.

“Granger, the pair of us have been exposed to a number of Muggle alcohols,” Draco advised. “But to be honest, I don't particularly care for port or sherry.”

Hermione grimaced but let them venture down to the pub, and before she thought better of it, followed them. The last thing that she needed was Draco and Theo getting into trouble in the Muggle world when she was supposed to be supervising them. They were her friends now, weren’t they?

*****

The pub wasn’t particularly fancy, but it was nicer than the Leaky, that was for sure. The booths were private enough, certainly. Draco took it upon himself to order a bottle of wine with three glasses, bringing it to their table while Theo and Hermione waited. A few moments later the bartender pressed her number into his hand and Hermione felt a stab of annoyance.

“It happens all the time,” Theo said, his gaze fixed on Hermione’s facial expressions.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“People hitting on Draco.” Theo replied with a shrug. Hermione wondered how he looked so relaxed in the booth, the wizard was tall and broad, yet somehow he managed to never look awkward about it. His growth spurt hadn’t come along with the awkward bumping into things the same way that Hermione remembered from Neville and Ron’s. Theo was like a barely leashed tiger in his movements, he even towered over Malfoy - Draco.

Draco vanished the number covertly as he sat down with them. “It’s the hair. And the money.”

Theo snorted. “I’ve got a ridiculous amount of money too, but you don’t see me getting telephone numbers and floo addresses.”

“No but I’ve seen plenty of them undressing you with their eyes.” He too looked at Hermione as if expecting her to get it on the joke but all she could do was manage a weak smile. “They are just intimidated by the beard.”

Theo laughed aloud at that.

“Wine, Draco?” Theo asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Unlike whiskey, you aren’t likely to set something on fire or start a fight after a couple glasses of wine.”

“Set something on fire?” Hermione asked in concern.

“Just family heirlooms, nothing to be concerned about.” Theo waved her concern off. “Dark artefacts certainly.”

Draco snorted, but didn’t elaborate.

“Did you enjoy the play?” Hermione asked, not wanting their conversation to grow stilted and honestly not sure she wanted to know more about the dark artefacts in question.

“I did,” Theo offered. “The costumes looked like something that could be worn at a Ministry event.”

“They have costume sales sometimes,” Hermione shared. “My mum bought a dress for a costume party at one of them years ago.” The grief and pain clenched inside her chest and Hermione felt like she had just lost them all over again. She took a deep drink of her wine and was grateful when Theo and Draco didn’t comment on her sudden change of mood.

“You’ll have to tell us how to find out when something like that happens,” Draco said, drawing a rune into the condensation on Theo’s glass: ᚢ - Uruz for health and vitality. Draco returned to looking up at her. “I liked the black doublet with the silver trim.”

“Of course you did,” Hermione laughed, but she had to admit that he would have made a particularly handsome Shakespearean lord.

“So Hermione, what do you have planned for us tomorrow?” Theo asked.

“Well the itinerary says shopping.”

“So it does, but since we are all here at this little pub, I thought you might give us a little hint of where we are going.”

“It's a rather large store that caters to luxurious tastes. I am sure you'll love it.” Hermione sipped her wine, sure that it was expensive. Her father probably would have been able to name the winemaker and would have known about their techniques. Godric, she missed him so much. She missed both of them.

“I do love my comforts,” Draco acknowledged, and Hermione tried to focus on their banter

“Don't we all know it,” Theo laughed, giving Draco a smile that made Hermione wonder again about their relationship.

“I wasn't made for a hard life,” Draco laughed. “At least I can acknowledge it.”

“What are you going to do after Hogwarts is done?” Hermione asked.

“Assuming I don’t go to Azkaban,” Draco began. “I rather think I would like to do archival work. I love old books. It's unlikely my father will let me do any such thing though.”

“And why is that?” Hermione asked.

“It would be gauche for a Malfoy to work.” Draco strummed his fingers on the table top.

Theo hummed but didn't say anything in response to Draco’s statement for a long moment. “And I won't be living long enough to do much after Hogwarts.”

Hermione reached across the table and gripped his hand hard. “Don't say that. Please. Healers discover new treatments all the time.”

Theo’s other hand lay over hers softly for a moment and he met her eyes. “I wish I had your optimism Princess, but a long life just doesn't seem to be in the cards for me.”

“Can you please just have a little more faith?” Hermione asked, pleading. “We just became friends, I don’t want to lose you so soon.”

“Alright Hermione, for you I will consider it.” Theo didn’t pull his hands away from hers and she sat there staring at him for quite a while. Draco seemed content to sip his wine and let them have their moment. Hermione wasn’t sure what the grief was that felt like it was clawing out of her chest. All she knew was that she did not want to lose Theo.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

****

Hermione let them walk her to her hotel room, but ignored the desire burning within her to kiss each one (at least on the cheek) or hug them before going in. This hadn’t been a date for goodness sakes’. They had just shared a drink amongst friends.

“Goodnight,” she whispered once she had her door opened, afraid to wake Pansy. “Thank you again for the drinks.”

“Any time Granger,” Draco murmured.

“Be careful I’ll take you up on that,” Hermione replied softly.

“I think my vaults can handle it and if not, Theo can pay.” Draco’s smirk and the soft intoxicated blush across his cheeks made him even more endearing than usual.

“Goodnight Hermione,” Theo added.

Hermione looked at him too, lingering there in the corridor.

“I should go before I wake Pansy,” Hermione replied, when she found herself wanting to follow them to their own room, but she had already sworn off Purebloods. She didn’t want to be a premarital entanglement, a toy to be broken and forgotten once a suitable bride was found. She didn’t want to think that Draco or Theo would be that way, but she hadn’t thought Ron would be like that either. She already had learned she was a bad judge. “Goodnight again. See you in the morning. Another big day.”

Her smile felt forced. And when she closed the door behind her, she sank to the ground for a minute, wondering what on earth was wrong with her. Luckily she didn’t have to explain herself because Pansy’s soft snores were the only thing that greeted her.

*****

Draco pulled Theo into his arms in bed, the wine a warmth in his belly.

“She doesn’t hate you as much as you seem to think,” Draco whispered to Theo, closing the space between them.

“Maybe she doesn’t, but she’s never going to choose me, choose us.” Theo sighed, curling into Draco. “I don’t want to force her, I won’t.”

“You are giving up too easily,” Draco said softly. “What will happen to me, to her, if you die. You think that she will thank you for not giving her a choice? She’s Hermione Granger. She doesn’t do anything that she doesn’t want to do.”

Theo only hummed, sleep luring him under. Draco knew his mate was exhausted and he stroked his back softly, desperate for Theo to be well and for Hermione Granger to finally be theirs.

*****

Taking a bunch of Purebloods shopping was more intense than Hermione had given it credit for. She’d chosen Harrods and was slightly surprised to see the Slytherins quickly determine what were the most luxury brands.

The wealthy clearly spoke some sort of language that Hermione didn’t understand.

Blaise and Luna had disappeared into the bridal section and Hermione tried not to think about the fact that there would be a number of weddings as soon as the school year was over. Maybe she ought to buy something fancy and Muggle that she could wear to them all.

The Slytherin girls (minus Pansy and Tracy) were all trying on Jimmy Choo heels and running the poor sales girl ragged. Hermione wasn’t interested in watching them and wandered through the different departments. Pansy was trying on cashmere and angora sweaters. Draco and Theo were smelling colognes and the look of disgust on Theo’s face was cracking her up.

Ernie and Tracy were looking in jewellery cases together, Hermione was sure that they were looking at wedding rings.

Everyone was supposed to meet out front in two hours, but Hermione worried that she should have given them more time. Everyone had far more disposable income than she ever had. And her grandmother always said that the rich knew how to spend money.

The Purebloods were certainly proving that now.

****

“Neville, why are you staring at Pansy?” Hermione asked as she plopped down next to him at the Gryffindor table. Normally she wouldn’t have commented on it, but he wasn't even being remotely subtle.

“What is she wearing?” Neville asked, his eyes on the Slytherin witch as she talked with Tracey and Luna on the other side of the Great Hall.

“Oh, um a Muggle jumper, we went to London over the weekend, you know for the big Muggle Studies excursion, someone must have told you right?” Hermione asked, wracking her brain about whether she had told him.

“I guess that someone must have mentioned it,” Neville shrugged.

“Anything exciting happen here while we were gone?” Hermione asked, now looking over at Pansy too. She did rather appear to be glowing. Now that she thought about it, Pansy hadn't been sick that morning at all.

“Hannah and I broke up. It was very loud, so you are probably glad that you missed the whole thing.” Neville sipped his tea, not seeming very upset about the break up at all.

“Oh, I'm sorry?” Hermione said, annoyed at herself for her questioning tone.

“I'm not. She was jealous of you and Luna. And then there was her constant need to gossip. I just couldn't take it anymore.” Neville sighed. “If I wanted to marry my grandmother, then I would just live alone at home with her.”

“Harsh, Nev.”

“But true,” Neville sighed, his eyes following Pansy while still carrying on with Hermione. “Aren’t you supposed to be in History of Magic?”

“Not going anymore,” Hermione stretched her arms above her head luxuriously. “Asked McGonagall if I could take the NEWT early. And it’s been approved.”

“Well that’s an easy O,” Neville offered, eyes darting to her for just a second. “Especially for you.”

“Just felt like I was doing a bit too much, you know?” Hermione shrugged.

“Yes. I know all about that.” Neville replied, beginning to look even more disinterested in what Hermione was starting to add about her other courses.

Terry Boot had moved over to Pansy and was talking to her in rather close proximity. And Hermione was surprised to see a blush colouring Pansy’s cheeks. Luna and Tracy had stepped back giving the two of them some privacy, but were clearly listening to everything that was said.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Hermione.” Neville stood and strode right over to where Pansy and Terry were talking.

“Hey Terry,” Neville said loudly enough for Hermione to hear, not acknowledging Pansy with more than a nod, “Sprout said she wanted you to check on your term project. The irrigation charm appears to be off cycle.”

“Oh sure, Nev,” Terry nodded to Pansy, murmuring something and kissing her hand before following Nev out of the Great Hall.

Hermione realized that Neville had left his tea half drank and his food barely touched.

How odd…

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Panville Interlude

POV - Neville

Neville Longbottom was pacing. He’d already mangled three little sprouts that he’d tried to transplant because his mind just wasn’t on what he was supposed to be doing. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful Pansy had looked today. She was positively glowing. And then Terry had kissed her hand and Neville had wanted nothing more than to feed him to the venomous tentacula. In pieces.

But why should Neville be jealous of whoever was courting Pansy? She’d dumped him, and not in the kindest way either. She’d told him that she was doing it for him and stood there coldly while he cried, begging on his knees. He’d completely stripped himself of every bit of dignity for her and she’d just walked away. 

So why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

Because she and Hermione were best friends now. It was like every time he turned around there she was, just as beautiful as the day that she had first fallen apart in his arms. She was why he couldn’t settle for Hannah. Maybe if Pansy’s parents had moved her to Beauxbatons, then Neville could have put his whole heart into courting someone who didn’t have hair darker than a black lily and lips like a rose in bloom. But they hadn’t, and here he was, still tied up in knots over a witch who didn’t want him. 

Every time he even tried to talk to her, she immediately went in the opposite direction. The witch was avoiding him at all costs. 

He scourgified the potting soil off of his hands and decided to go get something to eat. He hadn’t been able to eat at lunch, watching Terry flirt with his witch…his ex, had been torture. The part that kept haunting him was the fey glamour that had hung about Pansy’s Muggle jumper. It had been one of many things they had connected over - their shared magical inheritance - that both the Parkinson and Longbottom lines had fae blood. It gave them many gifts. Neville and Pansy both could throw off almost all compulsion magic and potions. And while Pansy could cast strong glamours and Neville could see through them, this one had been layered with a disillusionment, concealing whatever she was hiding. Still the sparkle of fey magic drew his eye and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the reasons she might be disguising her midsection. 

He needed to find her. He needed to talk to her. 

This nonsense had gone on long enough.

He hadn’t even made it into the castle and, like a sign from the universe, there she was, still looking breathtaking. And even better, there was no one else around. She hadn’t seen him yet either. Neville stood there, watching her for a bit, and there it was, the tell tale shimmer of fey magic on her, he hadn’t imagined it. 

He slowly walked up to her like she was a skittish mandrake. 

“Pansy, I need to speak with you,” Neville began, but Pansy cut him off.  

“I can’t imagine that there is anything for us to talk about,” Pansy said, turning to face him, eyes narrowing. 

"Pansy, please! The war is over, there's no reason to avoid me unless you really do hate me. You don’t seem to have any problems with Hermione or Luna," Neville chewed his lip and stuffed his hands into his pockets, so that he wouldn’t reach for her. It was all he wanted to do, pull her in his arms immediately now that he had her so close. "If you just tell me one more time that you don't want me, then I'll respect it." 

Pansy’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say a word, hesitating in front of him and Neville decided to take a risk. Stepping forward he took his hands from his pockets and reached for her, taking careful hold of her wrists, not willing to risk bruising her perfect skin.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered, rubbing little circles on the soft inside of her wrist. He tried to treasure the fact that he was finally touching her again, even though it didn’t mean anything more than that she had not yet pulled away.

“You’re engaged,” she muttered sullenly and tried to pull away from him. 

“Hannah and I split over the weekend,” Neville replied, thrilled when she stopped trying to get away from him.

“Really?” 

“And we were never engaged. I didn’t even give her any jewellery. And I didn’t sleep with her either. Not even once. There was someone else I couldn’t stop thinking about. Do you want me to beg on my knees again? Because I will."

“Oh gods,” Pansy grunted, all the colour draining from her face and then dropped to her knees, retching into a planter of ferns. Neville’s shock lasted only a half a second before he dropped down next to her, pulling her hair back out of her face and holding it in one fist while he rubbed her back with his other hand. It was hardly great for his ego that the thought of him renewing his interest in her had her vomiting like Seamus after a Quidditch win. 

When it looked like she was done, Neville carefully helped her to her feet and his hands automatically slipped to her waist, brushing against her bump., The bump she’d been disguising with disillusionment charms and fey magic.

Her hiss of surprise at his touch let him know that he wasn’t misreading the situation. She didn’t pull away either, just stared up at him with this guilty look on her face, chewing on her lip. She was always smaller than him, but now she seemed fragile and doll-like.

"Pansy? Excuse me, what is this?” His hand explored the bump still hidden under the magic. “How far along are you?" Neville asked, but his brain was already counting the weeks since their last night together just before the Battle of Hogwarts. “Is it mine?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

He could see the tears gathering in her eyes and she nodded, looking away as the tears spilled over. 

“How could you not tell me?” Neville demanded, while his hand continued to stroke her belly where his - no - their baby was growing. 

"You were courting other witches!" Pansy protested. “What was I supposed to do, say excuse me Hannah, can I borrow Neville for a minute, we need to discuss what to name our child?” 

"I never wanted to court other witches!” Neville shot back, resting both his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from turning away again. “I tried to propose to you in May! I would have left all those witches to be with you, even if we weren't going to have a baby! But there's no way you're getting away from me now. Get your coat, we're going to Gringotts right now so you can pick out your jewellery from my vaults. And then we are going to go see your father and get the contracts signed. I am not letting you get away from me, not even for a minute Pansy Parkinson - do you understand me?" 

She nodded, tears still on her cheeks. Neville wiped them away with his thumb and smiled down at her. 

“I never stopped wanting to be with you,” she admitted, her expression sheepish. “I was just trying to be noble.” 

“My love,” Neville whispered. “I’m the Gryffindor, being noble is my job. Let's leave it to me going forward.” Then he leaned down and kissed her. And just like that everything was right with the world again. 

Finally.