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It had been a good idea. Theodore Nott would maintain this until the day he died.
Frankly, he didn’t understand how anyone could think it was a bad idea. Perhaps Blaise had needed a bit of convincing, but he had yielded in the end.
“Come on, mate,” Theo had whined, as the two seventh-year men relaxed on the green couches in the common room. “You know I’m right.”
“It’s not that I don’t agree,” Blaise mused, flipping a page of the Quidditch magazine he was reading. “It’s just that I don’t think there’s a way to pull it off without getting ourselves brutally murdered. Probably by fire.”
“I think Draco Malfoy is a perfectly reasonable fellow,” Theo replied, the lie slipping off his tongue like water. “And will definitely react well to my brilliant plan. It’s in his interest, after all.”
Blaise chuckled – drily, showing no confidence in his closest friend. Theo was almost offended. “Yes, it’s in his interest, but I don’t think he’ll realize that until he’s in her.”
“That’s the goal!” Theo exclaimed, flopping back on the couch. “I see it, you see it…”
“I did not say that. I just said I don’t think you’re batshit insane.”
“Probably Potter and Weasley see it too!” Theo shouted, frustration overtaking him momentarily. “The only two people in the entire world who do not think that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy should be shagging…”
“Are Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy,” Blaise finished, glancing over the top of the magazine, a smile playing at his lips. “And you’ve taken it upon yourself to convince them otherwise?”
“They don’t need convincing!” Theo exclaimed. “They need opportunity. They need proximity. And that, my dear Mr. Zabini…”
“Please don’t call me that…”
“Is exactly what I’m planning on giving them.”
For that was the plan: simple in conception but difficult in execution.
Get Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy to shag.
Because Theodore Nott was not blind – certainly dumb, overly entitled at points, but not blind. Ever since they had all returned for their seventh year at Hogwarts, his very best friend, Draco Malfoy, had been obsessed with the recently minted Head Girl.
There were subtle hints – one that only the most studied of students in the Feelings of Draco Malfoy could notice.
For example, how he sighed dramatically whenever he saw her hug Ronald Weasley. And when questioned, the answer was always the same.
“It’s disgusting. I don’t want to breathe in whatever pheromones are coming off them.”
Then, there were the more obvious clues, ones that even a layman could pick up on.
For example, how whenever Draco got blackout drunk he would talk about how pretty she was.
Only to deny it vehemently in the morning.
Now, Theodore Nott considered himself a good friend. A caring friend. One with a deep-seated respect for boundaries.
But more important than not inserting himself into Draco Malfoy’s sex life was helping a friend out.
At least, that is how he pitched it to Blaise.
“You know they want each other,” Theo argued, as Blaise rolled his eyes once more.
“Of course, they want each other. Anyone in this bloody school could notice that. I’m sure even Mrs. Norris has noticed!”
“Probably she can smell the hormones,” Theo replied. “Cat senses, you know.”
“I think only dogs can do that. Not cats.”
“They’re animals, Blaise. They have noses.”
“Technically, we’re animals too, and I certainly cannot smell anything coming off of Draco.”
Theo grimaced. “Then you haven’t stood close enough to Draco after he gets out of the shower.”
Blaise wrinkled his nose. “That’s disgusting.”
“Think of it this way, Blaise,” Theo continued, sensing another line of attack. “How bloody annoying is it when Draco’s wound up?”
“He’s always wound up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man relaxed.”
“Exactly!” he exclaimed, smiling wide. “Do you not want to see your best friend relaxed? For once?”
“Who do you want to see relaxed?” a voice asked, as Theo’s head swiveled around.
Walking up to the couches in the common room was Pansy, looking mildly irritated as she slumped down next to Blaise, batting at him to remove his shoes from the coffee table before wiping it off with her hand.
“What’s got you pissed?” Blaise asked, chuckling, as Pansy scowled at the shoe marks on the glass tabletop.
“Just Draco,” she muttered, not noticing how Theo’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. You say anything and the man explodes like he’s turned into Mount Vesuvius.”
Blaise wrapped his arm around Pansy, pulling her into a hug. “Sorry, Pans. He’s just a piece of shit, what else is there to say.”
“Well, he’s supposed to be our piece of shit,” she said stoutly, crossing her arms. “I just wish I knew what was going on with him. Maybe it’s NEWTs?”
“Actually, my dear Pansy,” Theo interjected, leaning forward with intent. “I have a theory about that.”
She raised one coiffed eyebrow while Blaise audibly groaned.
“Ignore it, Pansy.”
“Hey!” Theo retorted. “Let me state my case.”
Pansy looked between the two of them quickly. “What’s going on here?”
Blaise gestured vaguely in Theo’s direction. “He’s been really into this whole ‘enemies to lovers’ trope ever since he started reading those muggle romance novels.”
Pansy’s mouth fell open as she turned back to Theo. “You’ve been reading muggle romance novels?”
Theo frowned. “It’s excellent literature.”
“You’re only reading them because of that muggle you were seeing over the summer. What was his name? Logan?”
“Don’t disparage the good name of Logan,” Theo responded, feigning offence. “Not all of us can read Crime and Punishment for fun, Blaise.”
“It’s a classic!”
“It’s Russian.”
“What’s wrong with Russian? Is this because you’re still pissed they beat England for the cup last year?”
“Boys!” Pansy interjected, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Would you like to explain what this has to do with Draco Malfoy?”
“Gladly,” Theo continued, shooting Blaise one final glare. “I have a theory.”
“I gathered.”
“That the reason Draco is so fucking pissy,” Theo continued, taking a deep breath before the great reveal. “Is because he desperately wants to shag our fair Head Girl, Hermione Granger.”
Pansy’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced between Blaise and Theo. Blaise shrugged, returning to his magazine, as Pansy glanced back at Theo.
“You only just realized that?”
Theo’s mouth popped open. “You knew?”
“It’s not exactly a mystery,” Pansy chuckled. “Draco is painfully transparent, especially when it comes to his feelings.”
“Then why haven’t we done anything about it?” Theo demanded, smacking his fist on the table. “We are supposed to be his friends.”
“We are,” Pansy replied. “But he’s also a grown man. He can make his own decisions. I don’t need to ask out a girl for him.”
“You are forgetting one important fact, Pansy.”
“Which is?”
Theo took a deep breath. “Draco Malfoy is also a fucking pussy.”
Pansy lips turned up at the corner. “You have a point there.”
Theo grinned. “So, you’re in?”
“In with what? I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Theo stood dramatically, stamping his feet on the ground as he walked to the other side of the coffee table, turning towards his best friends.
“I propose,” he announced, uncaring of any other ears in the room. “That we, as Draco’s very best friends, allow him the opportunity for which he has been yearning. Like the excellent companions we are, we devise a scenario in which they are forced by sheer proximity to acknowledge their mutual attraction, for which we will inevitably praised, for caring so deeply about our dear friend.”
Blaise threw his head back on the couch top, closing his eyes and groaning. Pansy, on the other hand, stared at Theo unblinkingly for several moments before she finally spoke.
“So, you want to lock them in a broom closet?”
“Exactly, Pansy. What did you think we were talking about?”
“It’s not that I don’t think it’ll work,” Blaise said a few weeks later, as the three of them sat in the Great Hall. Draco was long gone, having spouted some nonsense about needing to write a makeup essay for Flitwick, when they all knew he wanted to go stare at a certain brunette Gryffindor, who often spent her evenings in the library.
“It’ll work,” Theo retorted, taking a bite of his steak. Still chewing, he continued. “It’s full proof.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “You’ve only accounted for half the equation. Sure, we can get Draco to do anything, if the three of us put our minds to it…”
“Yeah, remember that time we tricked him into eating four flobberworms?”
“But,” Pansy reiterated, ignoring Blaise’s interjection. “We can’t account for Granger. She’s the wild card in the equation.”
“She wants him, too, Pansy,” Theo pointed out. Since they had initially decided to undertake this colossal and honourable task, the three of them had taken turns monitoring Granger when it came to the Slytherin Prince. After a few days of this, it was unmistakable. The way her breath hitched when he entered a room, the telltale blush that appeared on her face the few times Theo had caught them maintaining eye contact.
The Head Girl had it bad.
And luckily, Theo was here to help.
“I’m sure she’d shag him if given the opportunity,” Pansy continued. “But we also need to get her into the broom closet. I doubt she’ll take too kindly to being manhandled by you or Blaise.”
Blaise scoffed. “I would never manhandle her.”
“But Theo would,” Pansy continued. “Honestly, what is your plan there?”
Theo pursed his lips, pressing his hands together as he thought about what she had said. It was a good point, and Theo was man enough to admit when he had not considered everything. No – he had not accounted for Granger. He had assumed Granger would jump at the chance to jump Draco.
But first, he had to give her the chance.
“She has to go into the broom closet willingly,” Theo mused, contemplating the options. “For some reason? Maybe we tell her some first-years are plagiarizing essays in there?”
“Why would she trust us?” Blaise asked. “She’s not just going to go wherever you tell her, Theo.”
He deflated slightly, as he let his eyes wander around the hall, hoping for inspiration. “No, we don’t have that rapport yet. Hopefully, once Draco and her inevitably get married, then maybe…”
He stuttered off as something occurred to him. It was like a shot of adrenaline, straight to his brain, coming in the form of the best idea he had ever had.
How had he not considered it before?
Without hesitating, he jumped to his feet, throwing his legs over the bench.
“Theo?” Pansy asked, concern adorning her features. “You alright?”
“I’m a genius,” he breathed, before he took off across the hall.
He heard Blaise and Pansy scramble to their feet behind him, but he could pay them no mind. He was walking with intention, refusing to back down.
So, it was with chaotic speed that Theo made his way across the hall, coming to a firm stop at the Gryffindor table.
Right behind Harry Potter.
“Potter,” he barked, as the Boy Who Once Lived dropped his fork in shock and turned around to see who had addressed him. Weasley and Lady Weasley were sitting across from him, staring up at Theo with their mouths wide open.
“Nott?” Potter responded, raising an eyebrow. “Something I can help you with?”
“Dear Potter,” Theo said, just as Blaise and Pansy caught up with him. “You know I’m a huge fan of your work, right?”
“My work… what? My Quidditch skills?”
“No,” Theo replied, waving his hand dismissively. “The whole saving the world and defeating darkness thing. Deeply admirable. You are so giving. So much compassion towards others.”
“Umm… thanks? I guess? I’m not sure if this is a bit…”
“Though,” Theo frowned. “I was a bigger fan of your earlier work. Defeating Voldemort as a baby? Iconic. Inspired. Never been done before. Defeating him in fourth year? It doesn’t hit the same. Still excellent, thanks by the way, but more muted. I liked the showbusiness element of 1981.”
“Is there something I can help you with, Nott?” Potter asked through gritted teeth as Lady Weasley burst into a fit of giggles.
“It’s more about helping you,” Theo responded, forcing himself onto the bench as he scooted Potter unceremoniously to one side. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Hermione Granger, our Head Girl.”
Potter was slack-jawed. “Heard the name, yeah.”
“Brilliant,” Theo replied, smiling widely. “Now, as the three of you are best friends with her, have you noticed her acting agitated, perhaps? Uptight?”
“Hermione’s always been a bit agitated, Nott,” Weasley spouted, taking another bite of mashed potatoes. “It’s just NEWTs. She’ll get over it.”
“No, no, no, my dear Weasley,” Theo chuckled. “You do not have the keen eye that I do, have not invested the time I have in observing Miss Granger.”
“Observing her? What the hell is this, Nott?”
“Potter,” Theo interrupted, as the Chosen One’s face turned red. “I have a proposition for you, that may sound crazy…”
“It is crazy,” Blaise helpfully pointed out from the sidelines.
“But nonetheless,” Theo continued. “Will benefit you and yours greatly. You do care about Hermione Granger, do you not?”
“Nott, stop with the bullshit, what is this about…”
“What if I told you,” Theo said, leaning in conspiratorially. “That Hermione Granger desperately, and I mean with the passion of one thousand suns, wants to shag Draco Malfoy.”
He heard Pansy groan behind him as the three Gryffindors at the table all turned white. After a moment of silence, Lady Weasley slammed her palm on the wood, an expression of triumph appearing on her face.
“I fucking knew it!”
“Good girl, Weasley,” Theo nodded approvingly. “Another one with the sight.”
“You don’t have the gift of prophecy, Theo, for fuck’s sake…”
“Come on, Potter,” Theo said, leaning forward and ignoring his traitorous friends behind him. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the signs. The little sighs? The blush? Going to the library so they can just stare at each other?”
Potter frowned. “Hermione always went to the library.”
“Yes, but now she does it to ogle Draco, do keep up.”
“Even if that’s true,” Potter said slowly, as if considering the possibility. “What does that have to do with you?”
“Well, Potter,” Theo smiled. “Since you’ve never had the honour, you would not know that I am an exceptional friend.”
“Mediocre at best.”
“What Pansy means to say,” Theo continued, shooting the black-haired witch a glare. “Is that I have taken a fair amount of time recently to consider the conundrum that is Draco and Hermione. And shagging.”
Potter blanched. “Why have you been thinking about this?”
Theo reached over and took the Chosen One’s hand before he could pull away and stared into those deep green eyes.
“Because I am a good friend.”
Potter ripped his hand away as Weasley chuckled. “What’s the point of this, Nott? What are you actually saying?”
Theo sighed dramatically. “Merlin, I thought you were supposed to be smart…”
“Oh, shut it, Theo,” Blaise interjected, leaning forward towards the Gryffindors. “Theo wants you to help us lock Draco and Granger in a broom closet so they can finally fuck.”
Potter blinked methodically for several moments. Weasley went red.
Lady Weasley let out a guffaw.
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Okay, team,” Theo whispered to the unlikely group of comrades. “This is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. We will never get another shot at this…”
“Theo, if we fuck up, we can always try tomorrow. There are thousands of broom closets in the castle.”
“This is our only shot,” Theo repeated, ignoring Pansy. “We are a team. A unit. Fighting for a common goal.”
“Please, Nott,” Potter chuckled, glancing around the corner into the next corridor. “We’re a bunch of people trying to get our friends to fuck.”
“An honourable mission,” Theo repeated. He looked resolutely at the group; Pansy, Blaise, Weasley, Lady Weasley, and Potter. “Godspeed, my friends. You all know your roles.”
Weasley rolled his eyes. “We aren’t going into a battle, Nott.”
“But just in case, that’s why we brought Potter.”
Blaise chuckled as Lady Weasley good naturedly slapped the Chosen One on the back.
In the distance, Theo heard the bell go off, signaling the period in between classes.
“Remember the goal,” he whispered, as students began pouring into the hallway. “Remember your part.”
Lady Weasley turned back towards Theo, a dangerous look on her face.
“They are going to kill us.”
“Draco!” Theo shouted, making his way down the hallway. In this distance, he could just see the familiar head of white-blond hair. “Wait up!”
Draco turned around, his robes billowing around his feet as he did so. He frowned slightly as Theo jogged up to meet him. “Theo? Why weren’t you in Charms?”
“I was trying to help Pansy,” he gasped out, choking on imaginary tears. “Some fucking third year cursed a broom closet on the fourth floor. She went in to grab a spare bucket for Sprout, and her hand got caught on the wall. She’s attached to the castle, Draco!”
Draco’s jaw dropped. “Is she okay?”
“Embarrassed and stuck,” Theo lied, sighing dramatically. “You know how she is. She doesn’t want to get a teacher involved, but I don’t know any countercharms to unattach her. That’s why we need you! You’ve always been better at Charms than me.”
The play to the ego. A sure-fire way to Draco’s heart.
Like clockwork, he stood up to his tallest height, puffing out his chest. “I’ll go get her,” he assured Theo. “Which closet?”
“Third from the left down the Arithmancy corridor,” Theo replied. “Be quick, she’s getting antsy.”
Draco groaned, as he pushed up his sleeves. He handed Theo his books. “Gods, she’s going to be insufferable.” With that, he took off down the hallway.
As he turned the corner out of sight, Theo let out a relieved sigh.
Step One: Complete.
He made his way up to the third floor, where his new favourite Gryffindors were implementing step two. He was a bit concerned that he wouldn’t be able to watch the pure theatre that was about to occur, but he had no need to worry.
Gryffindors weren’t known for their subtlety, after all.
“Those little bastards!” He heard Weasley shout just as he peaked his head around the corner. Standing in the middle of the empty hallway were Potter, Weasley, Lady Weasley, and the goal of the mission, Hermione Granger.
She seemed frustrated. “Ron, what is going on?”
“Dumb little fourth-years,” Weasley burst out. “They dyed me blue!”
And though the dumb little fourth-years were actually just Ginny Weasley, the rest was true. Because the man famous for pale skin and red hair was now entirely turquoise.
Granger was trying not to chuckle. “Can’t you just charm yourself back?”
“It’s the principle of thing, Hermione,” Weasley roared. “Those idiots are going to get away with charming my body? Shouldn’t I be the only one who has a say in it?”
“Pushing it, Weasley,” Theo muttered to himself.
But it seemed to do the trick on Granger.
She raised her wand, charming Weasley back to his normal tone. “You’re right, Ron. And I’ll make sure they get detention. Where did you say they ran off to?”
“The third broom closet from the left down the Arithmancy corridor,” Potter interjected. “We locked them in.”
“Harry, you know that’s not how we deal with troublemakers…”
“We just wanted to find you first,” Potter continued, giving Granger puppy dog eyes that on cuteness alone should have made him the Chosen One. “Please, Hermione. Could you take care of them?”
She sighed, and like clockwork, nodded.
“Of course. Just next time, get the names and don’t lock them in a cupboard.”
Potter gave her a wide smile. “Thanks, Hermione. You’re the best.”
She bristled. “It’s my job.”
With that, she turned on her heel and took off towards the fourth floor.
The second she was out of sight, Theo sprinted towards the group.
“You conniving liars,” Theo laughed. “You should have been Slytherins.”
“The Sorting Hat almost put me in your house,” Potter admitted.
“Now, as much as I want to know everything about that, Potter, we have a mission to complete.”
He looked at the group of three, nodding to each of them in turn.
“Run?”
“Run.”
They made it to the fourth floor at the speed of light, taking the back route so they didn’t run into Granger. When they got there, Blaise and Pansy were waiting patiently in front of a broom closet.
From within the closet, Theo could hear screaming.
“What the fuck is this? Theodore Nott, I will end you!”
“Is it locked?” Theo panted, reaching the other two members of the team.
“Absolutely,” Pansy smirked, lifting up her hand and twiddling Draco’s wand between her fingers. “Disarmed him before Blaise shoved him in.”
Potter guffawed. “You lot are ruthless.”
Pansy glanced at the Chosen One and shot him a wink. “Only if you want us to be, Potter.”
As Potter blushed beet red, Theo turned to the others.
“We only have seconds until Granger gets here. Now or never, team.”
Potter was still stammering. Theo rolled his eyes.
“Get over it, Potter! If you want, next we can shove you and Pansy in a closet.”
This seemed to snap him out of it, and though he was still red, he reached into his robes and pulled out a shimmery fabric. Throwing it over his head, he disappeared from sight.
The rest of the group backed into the shadows, hiding just out of view. Pointing his wand at the door, Theo heard Blaise whisper.
“Silencio.”
Draco’s shouts disappeared into the void just in the nick of time, as Granger appeared at the end of the corridor.
She made her way slowly, counting the broom closets. When she got to number three, she reached her hand forward and two things happened simultaneously.
Pansy shot a well-aimed Alohomora at the door, hearing the successful click.
The invisible Potter reached out and grabbed Granger’s wand from her pocket.
The Head Girl grabbed onto the handle, opening the broom closet and letting out a surprised gasp.
“Malfoy?”
With seeker reflexes, Potter shoved Hermione forward into the waiting and confused arms of Draco Malfoy, slamming the door behind them as Pansy cast a locking charm. The deed was done. They were stuck.
Letting out a sigh of relief, the group walked forward into the light.
Potter took off the Invisibility Cloak, reappearing in front of them. He glanced at the door.
“Silencing charm is still active, then.”
“Thank god,” Blaise groaned. “I don’t think I could handle listening to them moan.”
“Who could you handle moaning, Blaise?” Lady Weasley asked, sliding up to the Slytherin.
Theo grimaced. “Gods, do you all want to fuck? Find your own closets!”
Weasley flinched. “I hate it here.”
“Join the club, mate.”
“So, now what?” Potter asked, as Lady Weasley and Blaise started whispering to each other. “Do we just… leave it?”
“I’m not going to stand here and wait,” Pansy said. “I say we put a three-hour lock charm on it and call it a day.”
“Do you really think they need three hours?”
“Well, Theo,” Pansy smirked. “I’m an excellent friend.”
Later, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo sat in the common room. Theo had managed to convince the other two not to go shag their newfound Gryffindor crushes immediately, and instead wait with him for Draco’s walk of shame.
Or walk of victory, he supposed.
And like clockwork, three hours and fifteen minutes later, Draco stumbled into the common room.
If Theo hadn’t had full confidence in their plan, it only took a quick glance at the Slytherin Prince to realize they had succeeded.
Hair disheveled, love bites all over his neck, robes thrown on haphazardly, he looked the part of a man completely and unequivocally satisfied.
That was, until he looked over to the couch and saw who was waiting for him.
“You bastard,” he seethed, stomping up to them, his grey eyes ablaze. “You planned that.”
Theo couldn’t help but grin. “So, you fucked?”
Draco flinched. “Theo, I could throttle you…”
“But… you fucked?”
“I will tear your body apart…”
“So, you fucked!”
“Merlin, boys,” Pansy interjected. She glanced up at Draco. “It’s obvious. They fucked. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Draco’s jaw dropped. “You… you helped?”
“Me too!” Blaise pipped in, as Draco blanched. “And Potter, and Ginny, and even Ronald Weasley. You have Ronald Weasley to thank for getting laid. Consider that.”
Draco gaped wordlessly at all of them for several moments before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed.
“How… how did you know?”
“Draco, darling,” Pansy drawled. “You aren’t exactly subtle.”
He flushed.
“I’m still pissed.”
“You’ll get over it,” Theo responded. “And you’ll see one day how lucky you are to have us as friends. I expect a shout-out at the wedding.”
Draco shot him a glare.
“I will get you back, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Theo raised his hands in mock defense. “Lock me in a closet with someone I desperately want to fuck, Draco! The horror!”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll do you one better.”
And when Theo found himself locked in a broom closet with Millicent Bulstrode and three Nifflers about a month later, he reluctantly admitted Draco had won this round.
And the girl.
Mostly the girl.
Oh, the sacrifices Theo made for his friends.