Chapter Text
Hermione held onto Theo like he was the flame that lit the sun in her universe and didn’t have a care in the world who could see them.
i. 12 months earlier
“Granger?” a voice called. Hermione spun around in the aisle between the large bookshelves and was face-to-face with Draco Malfoy.
“Draco, hi,” greeted Hermione, surprised.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, equally as surprised.
“I like checking out different libraries,” she answered and furrowed her eyebrows at the silly question; the more pressing one would be why he was here.
“Right, of course,” he nodded. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”
“You work here?” Hermione questioned, even more confused now.
“I volunteer, yeah,” he explained. “I should get back.”
“Right, of course,” she echoed back mindlessly.
Hermione watched as he walked away, arms full of books. She never could have predicted running into him here, of all places, a Muggle library. She peered around the shelf and watched as he placed book after book back in their proper places.
Gods, he was even more handsome than when they were kids. His blonde hair practically glowed on his head, and those eyes; she’d forgotten how much she was obsessed with his eyes. How, she would relish anytime they were on her back at Hogwarts, even if almost every time they were full of hate. She took anything he would give her. Merlin, she was pathetic.
As she walked up and down the aisles, trying to find a book, she couldn’t get him out of her head. Maybe it was fate, that they met like this, away from the Wizarding World; he never really rejoined society after the war. She hadn’t heard what had become of him other than a few comments here and there from Pansy.
Hermione delayed leaving because she was trying to build up more courage. She reminded herself that she was a fucking Gryffindor and was nothing if not courageous.
After looking around for a few minutes, she finally spotted him again. He was crouched low on the ground, organizing the bottom shelf. Hermione took a deep breath and walked right over to him, not giving herself a moment to second-guess her choice. He peered up at her, and her heart fluttered at this questioning look.
“Draco,” she started. “Would you like to get coffee with me later this week?”
The question must’ve surprised him, because he nearly fell on his arse. Hermione hid her grin. After steadying himself, he stood to his full height, and she now was looking up to him.
“Granger,” he sighed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” she questioned before she could really think. “It’s just coffee.”
ii. 3 Months Later
Hermione woke and turned to see a handsome blonde in her bed. So, it wasn’t a dream after all. Hermione hadn’t known when she’d started this whole thing that purebloods were such prudes. Then again, maybe it was just Draco. They finally slept together last night, and it was bloody amazing. Hermione wished they hadn’t waited so long.
She bit her lip as he stirred. Hopefully, he was feeling the same way she did. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes; his hair dangled in front of the silver balls of light. Hermione’s heart thumped in her chest, worried how he would react waking up in her bed. But she was calmed when he leaned forward, cupped her face, and kissed her oh-so sweetly.
“Morning,” he said when he pulled back.
“Good morning,” she replied shyly. “I’ll go make us tea.”
“Alright,” Draco said with a smirk, as if he knew she was too nervous to stay in bed with him any longer.
After a few minutes, Draco joined her on the sofa. The two mugs in the kitchen on the bar. She suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak.
“So last night,” Draco started.
“Was great,” she cut him off.
Her cheeks turned blood red when he smiled at her, like he was surprised she said that.
“Great, yeah,” he nodded. “You sure you still want to be with me?”
Hermione laughed, because she was sure he was joking. But then Draco just stared at her, waiting for her response. “Yes, Draco. Yes, of course,” she answered, truthfully, wholeheartedly.
“I’m just used to people leaving,” he said, unable to look at her.
“I won’t leave you, Draco,” Hermione said firmly.
“The problem is, I’ve heard that before,” he said, emotionlessly.
Hermione swallowed. Not where she thought the conversation was going. He was always quite serious, but she liked that, mostly.
“Draco, I’m not Astoria,” she said, gently pulling his face back to her so he could see her eyes.
“My mother, she said that to me,” he said, barely audible.
“Why don’t you tell me more about her?” Hermione asked.
All she’d heard was that the witch died around a year after the final battle, but the family kept it quiet from the press concerning the circumstances.
“Maybe another day, okay?” Draco asked. “I’m sure the tea is done. I’ll go get it.”
“No, the tea!” Hermione hopped up after him; it was surely oversteeped by now.
iii. 2 Months Later
Hermione woke up and decided she would not back down today. Hermione knew she was stubborn; it was something she was working on, but today she would use it to her advantage. Draco was apparating over after his shift at the library. He was closing today, so it was a bit late.
After not too long, she heard the subtle pop of apparition outside the window facing her small garden. It was secluded enough, and her neighbors were all old and oblivious. She opened the door and smiled at him, fixing his hair.
She still wasn’t sure how she got so lucky. Most people don’t end up with their childhood crushes, especially given the childhood they shared. He was one of the most handsome men to ever exist, probably.
“Hi, Hermione,” he greeted with a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi, Draco,” she replied, still blushing slightly at the feeling of his lips on her skin.
Breathe, she reminded herself. For one, they were far too early in their relationship for her to be having such intense feelings. Plus, she needed to stay strong about convincing Draco to be her date for the Ministry Gala next week.
“Good day?” she asked.
Her day had been full of paperwork. She was working on new legislation to help near-human creatures have better and more secure rights. Draco didn’t ask much about her work, but she reasoned he was a bit embarrassed that he wasn’t doing more with his time.
“Pretty normal,” answered Draco.
They meandered to her small sofa and sat next to each other, knees touching slightly.
“Did you eat dinner already? I can cook something up,” Draco said.
Besides being unfairly handsome, Draco was also an amazing cook. Apparently, his house elves taught him at a young age, though he didn’t talk much about his past. Hermione was trying her best not to pry, but it was hard. Especially since she had gone through her own shit, and not only during the war, but that’s life. They were adults now; she’d worked through it.
“I haven’t yet, but Draco,” she touched his arm gently. “I want to ask you, again, if you would accompany me on Friday to the Gala for Harry.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed, but Hermione held strong. She would win this battle.
“Hermione,” he sighed, unbelievably long. “Must we go through this again?”
She fought back rolling her eyes. Hermione had to play this correctly, otherwise it would end up in a full-blown screaming match, and she didn’t want that to happen again.
“Baby, I know we already talked about it,” she said calmly, although talked was a generous way to put it. “But your friends will be there, I already checked. Pansy is going, of course. And she told me Theo was planning on attending. Blaise is basically planning the whole thing, so he’ll be there, working, but still. I just think it could be good for you, good for us.”
She paused, letting him take in her points. Hermione could already feel him pulling away, and it made her want to cry, but she held her tears in check, too. She knew Draco by now. Logic was the best way to convince him to do something, otherwise he would think she was lying or trying to play him or something. She just wanted to show off her boyfriend; was that so wrong?
He stood, but she stayed sitting. Draco started walking towards the kitchen, apparently choosing to practically ignore her.
“I’ll make you dinner, how’s that sound?” Draco asked.
“I don’t want to eat,” Hermione answered, following him to her dainty kitchen. “I want my boyfriend to be with me. Everyone else has their partners there! It makes me sad every time I’m all alone.”
Draco sighed again, and Hermione wanted to pull out her hair. What she would give to never hear that sound again.
“Draco,” she started, firmly, in that voice she uses in front of the Wizmagot. “We have been dating for months now. I really, really like spending time with you, but we only do stuff just the two of us, mostly in the Muggle World. And that’s fine. I’m good doing that most of the time, but for something like this, I want you to be there with me. Unless you are ashamed of me? Because of my bloo—”
He cut her off. Hermione knew it was a low blow, but it was the last thing she had in her arsenal.
“You know your blood has nothing to do with it,” he spat.
Draco was pulling a pan from her cabinet, not looking at her, but she could see how tense his shoulders were. Hermione knew he had no prejudice against anyone anymore. Hell, he spent most of his time in the Muggle World and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.
“Well, I’m sorry if it feels like it does,” she responded; her voice broke, half because part of her felt it was the only explanation, and part of her because she was manipulating him, a bit.
“Fine,” he sighed, yet again. “I’ll go with you, but Friday I’m working again, so I will meet you there, okay?”
He turned and faced her. If the look in his eyes hadn’t been so genuine, Hermione wouldn’t have believed him. She smiled, but tried to mostly contain her excitement, so as not to spook him.
“Great, thank you,” she said, genuinely.
“Now, dinner,” he turned back to start cooking for her.
iv. 1 Month Later
“I’m just tired of rehashing the same fight over and over again,” Hermione said to Gin.
They met at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Hermione had such a sweet tooth, and it helped that little James did too. Plus, Fortescue’s was the best. She couldn’t dare ask Draco to come with her to Diagon Alley, and that was part of the problem. The other being his complete and utter lack of trust.
Ginny was wiping away the ice cream James had gotten all over his face as she spoke up, “Well, then stop having it.”
“You say that like it’s simple,” Hermione sighed.
“It is,” Gin replied. “Either one or both of you have to change, or you aren’t right for each other.”
She hated when Ginny got like this; all knowledgeable and shit, just because she and Harry had the most perfect relationship. At least, that’s what it felt like.
“I think I love him,” Hermione admitted quietly. “And the worst part is I think he loves me too, in his own twisted way. But he has too many walls up. And I don’t think I can be the one to break them down. I just want him to hand me a key to the hidden door and let me in, but I don’t think he even knows one could be there if he just wanted it to be. Does that make sense?”
Hermione took James from Ginny’s arms, so the witch could finish her own ice cream in peace. He was such a good little boy and always got mesmerized by Hermione’s curls.
“It makes perfect sense, Hermione,” Ginny said, reassuringly, between spoonfuls. “I know you’ve had a crush on him since we were kids…”
Hermione looked up quickly, flushed. She hadn’t thought anyone had noticed.
As if seeing her shock, Ginny chuckled and added, “The boys might’ve been too daft to see what was in front of their noses, but it was so clear to me. I just never brought it up because you didn’t. I figured you didn’t want it to be real, given the circumstances.”
“Yeah,” said Hermione, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Anyway,” Ginny continued. “I know I’m the cauldron calling the kettle black, but you don’t always end up with your childhood crush. Maybe you’re holding on because that little girl inside you wanted Draco to accept you back then.”
“Oh, I hate when you say all these logical things,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe they weren’t right for each other. Draco had a lot to work on, and the problem was that Hermione was so tired. She wasn’t sure if she could be the one there to help him. Hermione didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry, or both.
v. 2 Months Later
Hermione probably had too many drinks already, but wasn’t that what one did when going through a breakup?
“Another, please,” she held up her empty butterbeer glass to the bartender, who simply nodded and snatched the empty container.
“And what number would that be?” a voice called from behind her.
Hermione spun in the barstool and maybe almost fell out. Just maybe.
“Whoa,” Theo caught her arm to steady her.
He raised his eyebrows as her face flushed. She stared for a long second at his hand on her waist. Theo removed it once she was steady once more, and suddenly she missed his warmth.
“I’ve lost count,” she admitted.
“I can see that,” Theo laughed as he sat in the empty seat beside her.
The bartender brought over Hermione’s fresh butterbeer, and Theo ordered a firewhiskey for himself. The pair sat in silence for a while. Hermione had gotten to know Theo after Pansy and Ron started dating, years ago now, but they had been getting closer recently. He was Draco’s best friend…
She looked over at him and couldn’t decide if it was the amount of alcohol in her system, or if she had just been blinded by Draco before, but he was quite handsome. In a soft, kind way. His chocolate curls and slight scruff framed his face beautifully, and his hazel eyes were like a kaleidoscope, looking gold when it caught the light a certain way.
“What Granger?” Theo finally asked; she’d been staring.
“Nothing,” she laughed. “I just didn’t realize how enchanting your eyes are.”
He blushed and looked down at his drink. He swallowed the last bit before asking, “How are you doing? Do you want to talk about it?”
Theo didn’t have to name it; they both knew what he was asking about.
“I’m alright, and no, I do not want to talk about it further,” Hermione said, looking into his eyes.
He probably could see that she wasn’t alright, but she knew she would be. And Hermione didn’t want to think about him, not tonight.
“Then we won’t,” Theo said with a smile. “Another?”
“Yes, please,” Hermione answered with a smile to match.
Maybe this night wouldn’t be a complete waste after all.
vi. 2 Months Later
Hermione hadn’t realized how easy love could be, not until Theo. After Hogwarts, she’d sworn off dating for so long, and then Draco fell into her lap, and she was sure it was fate. That they were meant to be. She’d known it was hard back then, but now being with Theo… well, Draco just needed more help than she could give him.
She knew Theo told Draco about them; how it started, and that it was becoming serious. Apparently, Draco had taken it fine, but that was to be expected since he never would say otherwise, even if that was how he felt. Theo was always very open about his feelings, even the bad ones, especially those. On that first night, Hermione could feel that Theo had been waiting patiently for her to just look his way. And now that she had, she never wanted to look away.
So, it was hard to say why she was pacing outside the library where Draco volunteered. Closure was the wrong word. But she did feel like maybe, just maybe, she could help Draco so that next time he chose to be with someone, it wouldn’t end like their relationship did: words unspoken, trust never gained, and love unable to overcome.
She still hadn’t built up her courage to walk in, when Draco walked out and spotted her immediately. He stopped in his tracks and turned right around to head the other way.
“Draco, wait,” Hermione called.
He didn’t.
“Draco, please,” Hermione yelled, trotting to get next to him.
“Hermione, I don’t know what form of torture you like to put yourself through, but please leave me out of it,” he said curtly.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she murmured, mostly to herself, still taking long strides to keep up with him.
Draco scoffed, “I’m not hurt.”
Hermione wanted to laugh, of course he would say that. Of course, he wouldn’t, couldn’t, for one second be remotely vulnerable.
“Draco, please,” she begged. “Stop! Just stop for one minute.”
Draco abruptly followed her order and stared down at her. His eyes narrow and scanning her, searching for something. She got shivers as it reminded her all too much of their time at Hogwarts.
“What do you want, Granger?” Draco spat her last name at her, like they barely knew each other.
“I don’t know,” Hermione laughed to herself. “I came here under some sort of idea that I could help you, but…”
“I don’t need your help. You made it perfectly clear that I’m not worthy of you,” Draco said, callously and wholeheartedly, like every word was true.
“That’s not what happened!” she protested.
“Oh yeah? Then enlighten me?” Draco asked, arms crossed.
“I loved you. You loved me too, I know it,” Hermione said, holding back her tears. “But love isn’t a strong enough bridge when you keep making the rapids higher.”
“So, it’s my fault?” he questioned.
“No! I mean, you're not the only one to blame,” admitted Hermione. “I couldn’t meet you where you were. It was too far for me. And I’m sorry for that. But that’s why I came, maybe you should see a mind healer. I think it could really help you, Draco.”
Draco chuckled, “Right. Well, if that’s all, Granger.”
“That’s all,” she replied.
He didn’t meet her eyes before continuing on his way. And Hermione felt even worse than before coming here. She turned down the closest small alleyway and apparated to Hogsmeade; Theo would be done with classes soon, and she needed him.
vii. 2 Months Later
Hermione was pulling her hair up into a nice, contained bun when Theo wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“Hi there, bunny,” he purred in her ear.
“You’re early,” she whispered, looking in those wonderful eyes of his through the mirror.
“I needed to see you. Make sure outfits matched like I planned,” Theo smirked.
“And?” Hermione asked, turning and gesturing to the navy-blue dress he’d picked out for her.
It had large flowers across the bodice. Hermione would’ve never picked something so… well, much, but she wasn’t scared to admit that she loved the way she looked in it, the way it made her feel. And the way that Theo looked at her made her feel.
“You are magnificent,” Theo shook his head in awe.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” said Hermione, biting her bottom lip.
He did look proper fit. She wasn’t sure anyone else wore a suit as well as Theodore Nott.
“Oh, witch, you can’t look at me like that,” he said slyly. “Come here.”
“We’ll be late,” she protested as her feet moved toward him on their own accord.
She went weak in her words the moment his lips touched her own.
Hermione huffed, catching her breath, “I have no time for my hair anymore.”
She pouted at Theo as he was rebuckling his belt. “Aw, poor baby,” he said, laughing.
Back in front of the mirror, she had no time to do anything but a messy bun. Pansy would probably yell at her, but they were already late as it was. With her wand, she quickly fixed her makeup and did the best she could with her hair.
“I hate walking in late,” she fretted.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it,” Theo said earnestly. “You just look too good.”
Theo knew she still didn’t like big crowds. Too many stalker-like ‘fans’ after the war. That was probably one of her favorite things about Theo; how open he was and how easy it was to be open with him.
They apparated to the Weasley-Parkinson Estate. Pansy had bought a large plot of land near where Ron grew up and built what she considered a modest cottage.
“Come here,” he said, with a smirk referencing before. “I got you. Anyone who looks at you the wrong way will answer to me.”
The foyer was filled with people, meandering around, chatting about. Still, a lot of heads turned when they walked in. Even though she knew most of the guests, it was also filled with society members and Ministry employees who still looked at Hermione as some trophy rather than a person. Theo squeezed her hand tightly.
“If they are going to stare anyway, might as well give them something to look at,” Theo whispered in her ear.
Suddenly, the rest of the room vanished. Hermione nodded and Theo cupped her face. He bent his head down and kissed her, fiercely. The music stopped and her soul calmed. Hermione held onto Theo like he was the flame that lit the sun in her universe and didn’t have a care in the world who could see them.