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A slashing, burning pain erupted across Lord Nott’s abdomen. He stumbled in the dark hall of the Department of Mysteries and clutched his chest through his Death Eater robes. His blue eyes widened in terror as Theo’s face burned at the forefront of his mind. No, he thought. Theo was safe at school. But there was no one else within the Nott family magic that could be causing this pain in his chest.
Despite the logic of his thoughts, the pain persisted. He felt the throbbing magic pull him in the direction of the person that was hurt. They were close. They had to be or else the pain wouldn’t be so strong.
Ted turned down the hall and followed his magic toward the injured party. His chest throbbed worryingly. The person was dying. His pace increased with his anxiety.
It was Theo, he thought, doubting his earlier logic. How had Theo gotten to the Department of Mysteries? Had he come with Potter and the others? Unlikely.
Lord Nott turned a corner and pulled back before he was spotted. Dolohov was facing off against the Weasley boy and Longbottom. At their feet was a bloody body. The pain in his chest flared and he bit his tongue on a gasp. His wand raised and a series of spells shot off before he was even aware he’d cast them.
Longbottom crashed to the floor while Weasley went reeling. He slammed into a jar filled with a dark creature that looked like a brain-eater. The boy screamed as he fell to the ground. Dolohov spun around with his wand raised. Lord Nott stepped from the shadows and the Death Eater relaxed minutely.
“Ted,” he greeted in his thick Russian accent.
Lord Theodore Nott strode forward, his eyes firmly fixed on the small, bloody body next to the two teenage boys he’d just taken out. “Who is that?” he demanded as he passed his old schoolboy friend.
“The mudblood.”
Granger.
Ted’s eyes slowly widened as he grew closer. He stood over her very still body. His fingers shook as he tried to spot if she was even breathing. Her entire jumper was soaked through with blood. The pain in his magical core was throbbing so strongly now. He knew it was a warning. She was dying.
“Help me heal her,” Ted said without looking up from the girl.
His eyes flickered across the soft point of her chin, her riotous dark curls, and the freckles across her tanned nose and cheeks. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was looking at Elizabeth once more -- though the colouring was off, the resemblance was uncanny. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest.
“Heal her?” Antonin scoffed. “The Dark Lord wants her dead.”
Ted looked up at his friend with a grave face. “I can feel her pain in my magic.”
Antonin’s eyes widened. A second later, his shoulders drew back and he joined his friend on the other side of the dying girl’s body. They knelt down and immediately began casting.
“I can seal wound,” Dolohov explained in his accented voice, “but she has lost much blood.”
Ted nodded. “I’ll take her to St. Mungos.”
Antonin didn’t respond, but the look he sent the other man said it all.
The Dark Lord would not be pleased .
He would take saving the mudblood as an act of betrayal and would likely kill first and ask questions after. Perhaps the Voldemort from the 50s and 60s would have listened, but the Dark Lord that had resurrected last year was a far cry from the charismatic teenager they’d once joined forces with decades ago.
“She is ready,” Antonin decided. He stood and watched his friend gently pull the girl into his arms. He waved his wand at Ted and vanished his Death Eater robes. “Go now, while the wards are down.”
Lord Nott nodded. “Thank you, brother.”
“Our debt is repaid.”
They shared another nod and then Ted turned and disapparated on the spot. He reappeared in the St. Mungos emergency apparition point.
“Help!” he thundered as he strode into the Emergency Room. “I need help here!”
Several healers rushed forward and the girl was quickly transported to a clean bed. The curtains were drawn a second later. Ted let out a wary breath as he stared at the light blue coloured fabric that separated him from the teenager on the other side. He could still feel her pain in his magic, but it was lessening with every second.
“Lord Nott?”
Ted turned and nodded at Healer Callum Marth. He was a middle-aged wizard with dark skin and a tight fade. He was the son of a work friend and a good healer if Ted remembered correctly. He could be trusted.
Lord Nott stepped closer to the younger wizard. “The girl in there needs to be put in a private room the second it’s possible. Only healers are permitted until I return.”
“Her name?” Callum asked.
Lord Nott paused. He couldn’t say it was Hermione Granger. That would be ridiculous. “Lizzie,” he told Callum on a whim, using the name he’d once affectionately used for his late wife. “Lizzie Nott. No one is to know she’s here. I’ll be back soon.”
“Wait-”
-Lord Nott was already racing back towards the apparition point. There was only one way that Hermione Granger could have ended up in his family magic and looking like Elizabeth. Elizabeth and he had only ever had one child together before she passed. If that child was Hermione’s father, then he was in imminent danger. The Grangers had been marked for death -- one of many muggle families that would be attacked while the Order was busy at the battle in the Department of Mysteries.
Ted reached the apparition point. He focused in on the tiny little star of magic that was his squib son’s spark of family magic. He turned and apparated on the spot.
He appeared at the edge of a muggle property enclosed by high stone fences on either side. He quickly passed through the gate and up the stone path. A familiar hulking blond figure stood on the porch.
“Rowle,” he snapped and Thorfinn jumped to attention.
“Sir.”
“What are you doing out here?”
Thorfinn Rowle looked petrified. His face was pale and his hands were shaking. He shook his head. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
Lord Nott felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He remembered the disillusionment he’d felt himself after first signing up with Riddle. Things had gone sideways so quickly.
He swallowed his pity. “What did you think you were signing up for?” he snapped.
Ted pushed past the massive wizard and into the house. He was immediately met with the sounds of screams and the scent of blood. Ted forced himself not to hesitate. Torture had never been his cup of tea. He mostly kept to the legal aspects of Riddle’s plans in his position as a solicitor.
Marcus Flint was torturing an Indian woman on the floor of the living room with the cruciatus curse. Ted’s heart clenched when he spotted his son screaming. No sound left his mouth from what was the obvious use of a silencio . He was bound to a chair. Blood covered his face and shirt. Another wizard stood at Hugo’s side, wand raised and watching the show.
“You wanna scream, bitch?” Marcus shouted as he let the curse go.
The muggle woman continued to twitch uncontrollably. She’d obviously been under it for far too long.
“I’ll give you something to scream about.” He began to undo his belt.
“Enough,” Lord Nott hissed.
Flint and the other wizard -- Pucey, Ted noted -- both turned to him and Thorfinn who’d followed him inside.
“Get out.”
Flint made a face. He pulled his lips back, revealing a ghastly mouth of dirty, crooked teeth. “This is our initiation.”
“And you took too long,” Lord Nott snapped. “I’ll finish what you boys failed to do. Leave.”
Marcus glared. He glanced at his friend and they scoffed. Marcus stepped on the muggle woman’s hand and Ted heard several fingers snap. The woman barely made a sound. The two Death Eaters stormed out of the house. Two pops sounded just after, signifying their departure.
“Take her to St. Mungos,” Ted ordered.
He moved to Hugo who jerked away from him. Lord Nott looked over his shoulder at Thorfinn who stood staring at the destruction of the muggle woman in horror. “
Thorfinn!”
Thorfinn’s head snapped around to Lord Nott.
“Take her to St. Mungos," he repeated.
“She’s a muggle.”
Ted narrowed his eyes. “You were standing outside for a reason. Is that because you have principles or are you simply a coward?”
Thorfinn visibly bristled. He drew his broad shoulders back and headed towards the muggle woman. Hugo struggled in his chair as Thorfinn disappeared with his wife.
Ted removed the silencio .
“Where-” Hugo ground out, his voice rough and raw from screaming, “-where did he take her?”
“A magical hospital.” Ted unstuck his son from the chair. “I’m going to bring you there now.”
“Hermione,” Hugo gasped. “They’re going to hurt her.”
He wrapped his arm around Hugo’s waist and his son’s arm around his shoulders to support his weight. “I’ve already taken her to the hospital. She’s safe.” He prepared to stand with his son.
Hugo sagged into his father. “Dad,” he choked out. Tears streamed down his bloody face.
Lord Nott tensed. He turned to stare at Hugo. “You remember.”
Hugo’s breath stuttered as he cried. “I- I think the torture... destroyed the memory charms.”
It had a tendency to do that, Ted knew.
He stared at his weeping, broken son. His heart clenched. If Elizabeth had lived to see him like this, she’d have been inconsolable. There was nothing she’d loved more than their son.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing to Hugo or to his beloved wife.
Hugo shook his head. “Take me to St. Mungos. I need to see- I need to see my girls.”
Ted stood and hauled Hugo to his feet. He screamed in pain. Ted apparated back to St. Mungos. Healers were waiting on them. Thorfinn must have warned them he was coming. Hugo was immediately transported to a levitating cot and moved into the Emergency Room.
Lord Nott moved without thinking. His hands were shaking and his heart wouldn’t stop racing. He was going to die. The actions he’d taken tonight would culminate in the Dark Lord executing him. He already knew it. There was no way around it. It was just a matter of protecting his family before he was taken from them.
Hugo and his wife were simple. As muggles, they could be transported anywhere and easily blend in. He’ll have them sent away from England. Hugo wouldn’t argue, but after this incident, he’ll likely insist that his daughter goes with them. That would be harder to make happen. Hermione Granger was Harry Potter’s best friend. He’d heard the reports of her intelligence and magical potential.
Ted felt a burst of pride in his chest at how well she’d adjusted to the magical world despite her lack of advantages. She’d entered the magical world like a whirlwind of power and intelligence. She didn’t take no for an answer. She was everything that Elizabeth would have wanted in a grandchild.
He had to protect her at all costs. He refused to meet Elizabeth on the other side until their granddaughter was safe. Lizzie would never forgive him otherwise.
He turned the corner and found Thorfinn Rowle lingering outside a hospital room with Healer Callum Marth. He joined them. “Where is she?”
Callum nodded to the door behind Thorfinn. “Inside. You brought in two others?”
Ted nodded.
“The Hospital Head is going to ask questions. I need to know who these people are, Lord Nott.”
“Hugo,” Ted told Callum bluntly. The healer jolted. “He and his wife… and their daughter.” He tipped his head in the direction of Hermione’s room.
Callum’s brown eyes widened. He was the same age as Hugo. The two boys had grown up together and would have been in the same year if Hugo had not been a squib. “Hugo’s here?”
“I just brought him in. The healers have him in the ER.”
Callum released a short breath. Lord Nott entered the private room and allowed Healer Marth and Thorfinn to follow him. The door was locked behind them and heavy wardings were quickly put in place. Hermione Granger slept peacefully in her hospital bed, completely unaware that her world was falling apart around her.
Thorfinn eyed her with interest. “She looks like Lady Nott.”
The statement pulled Ted up short. “You remember her?”
Thorfinn nodded, his eyes still on the tanned witch in the hospital bed. “Not well, I was quite young when she passed. Hugo was already gone by then. She was always kind to me.”
Ted stared at the blond wizard for a long moment. He’d forgotten that Thorfinn knew Elizabeth. The younger wizard had been to Nott Castle with his father. Thorfinn would have been little more than a baby when Lizzie had still been around.
They didn’t have time for this.
“Are you marked?” Lord Nott bluntly asked the two men.
Callum shook his head. Thorfinn did the same. Ted raised an eyebrow at the latter.
The big blond man frowned. “I told you, I didn’t sign up for this shit. Marcus wanted to go for drinks and next thing I know I’m being roped into a bloody Death Eater initiation. Guess I mucked it up though.”
“Thankfully,” Lord Nott drawled. “Your father will have your head when he learns you were within fifteen feet of this mess.”
He began to pace. Asmund Rowle was a well-respected International Rights Lawyer for the International Confederation of Wizards. He and Nott had worked together on and off again over the years and though they didn’t share the same ideals, they appreciated the other’s ruthlessness in a courtroom.
“Asmund sent you off to wrangle dragons so you wouldn’t do exactly this!”
“I know!” Thorfinn boomed. He quickly checked his voice as he cleared his throat. “I know,” he continued more quietly. “I told you, I didn’t ask to be there. And I didn’t participate.”
Callum stepped forward and decided to ask a more important question. “What will you do with Hugo?”
Ted glanced at Healer Marth. “He can’t stay here. He, his wife, and Hermione have all been marked for death. Where is your father?” he asked Thorfinn.
“France for the ICW summit.”
Ted nodded. “You will go to him and take the Grangers with you.”
Thorfinn raised his eyebrows. “I can’t take an underage witch across borders with me. That’s kidnapping. You can do it, you're her Head of House.”
Lord Nott sighed. He shook his head. “I’ll be dead by tomorrow.”
Silence greeted his statement.
“If I send her off with just her parents, she’ll only come back. She’s Potter's best friend, I doubt she’ll willingly abandon him. She can’t enter England again until this is all over. She’ll die if she returns.”
“Theo can order her to stay,” Callum suggested. Though the healer was a pure-blood, he wasn’t a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The family magic for those families was older and worked differently.
Thorfinn and Ted were both frowning, but Thorfinn answered first. “It’ll take him some time to get the family magic properly underhand -- especially because he’s so young. She’ll be dead before he figures it out.”
Lord Nott eyed the big wizard beside him. He trusted the Rowle family. Asmund had clear ideas for the Wizarding World that went against supporting dark lords like Voldemort. He would keep her away from Britain until this mess was all over. They would treat her right.
“You can take her if you’re married.”
Thorfinn reeled back. “She’s a little girl!” he shouted.
“She’s a fifth-year -- fifteen, possibly sixteen.” He didn’t really know. “She’s more than old enough to be married off by her Head of House.”
“Yes, if this were the 1600s,” Thorfinn hissed. “I’m not gonna marry her.” He pointed a finger at Lord Nott. “You can’t make me.”
“You stood by and waited while my son and his wife were tortured . Your friend ,” he spat the word, “was going to rape this girl’s mother.”
Thorfinn paled. He looked sick to his stomach.
Lord Nott stepped forward. “You owe the House of Nott, Thorfinn Rowle, and I will have you pay it now .”
Their magic resonated with the truth of his words.
Thorfinn shook his head. “There must be some other way.”
“None that come to mind. I trust your father to make sure she can’t come back. I can’t get her out of England any other way.” Ted held his hand out.
Thorfinn made a pained face. He reluctantly took Lord Nott’s hand. They shook on it and a tendril of magic bound their unspoken promise. “You have to tell her,” Thorfinn insisted. “I won’t have her waking up thinking I’ve bloody well kidnapped her or something.”
Ted nodded. He turned to Healer Callum Marth. “Prepare to wake her. Find me when you’re ready.” He looked over at Thorfinn. “Stay by her side. Guard her with your life.”
Thorfinn nodded. Ted turned to leave.
“Are you going to speak with Theo?” Lord Nott paused and glanced at the young wizard again. “He’ll be punished after you’re… gone.”
“Doory!” Ted called.
A house elf popped into existence before him and bowed his head. “Master be calling Doory?”
“Pack up everything in Nott Castle and all our other properties within Britain. Theo will be relocating to France.” He glanced at Thorfinn who nodded once. The elf bowed his head again and disappeared. “Callum, is the Deputy Headmistress still here?”
“Three doors down,” Callum confirmed.
“Come get me when she’s ready.”
Ted dismantled the wards with a wave of his wand and headed for Professor McGonagall’s room. He entered without knocking and ignored her shout of protest.
“I come in peace,” he told her, hands raised.
Minerva glared at him. “As if I’d believe that.”
He placed his wards in the new hospital room and Minerva tensed. She snatched her wand from the bedside table and pointed it at him.
“I don’t have time to fight, Min.”
She didn’t lower her wand.
Ted sighed. “Hermione is three doors down.”
Minerva gasped.
“She’s fine. I made sure of it.” He took the seat beside her. “She’s Hugo’s,” he told her and was unsurprised when Minerva wasn’t shocked. “You knew.”
“Have you seen her?” she questioned. “She has Ellie’s curls -- our mother’s curls. She has the same little smirk that Ellie would get when she’d get one over on you.” Minerva’s eyes watered. “Don’t know what my sister ever saw in you.” She sniffed and looked away.
Ted smiled as he fought back the tears. “You and me both… He’s going to have them killed.”
A sob was torn from the witch’s throat. “ No .” She shook her head as she turned back to him. “I’ve tried to protect her.”
Lord Nott nodded once. “Thank you for that, but it’s not safe in Britain anymore.”
“Where will you take her?”
He placed his hand over hers and gently squeezed her fingers. She was only a year younger than him, but at that moment, that year felt like decades.
“Oh, Min. I won’t make it past tomorrow.”
A single tear fell down her pale cheek. “Elizabeth-”
“-I’ll tell her you said hello.”
Minerva’s tears broke loose as she sobbed openly.
“I need you to do me a favour," Ted continued softly.
“A-Anything,” she choked out.
“Call for a house-elf from Hogwarts. I need them to bring Theo here. I need him gone before I’m… called.”
Minerva nodded. “Dobby!”
Dobby appeared with a pop. “Miss Minnie! Harry Potter is gone!”
“He’s at the ministry,” Ted told the little elf.
“Dobby,” Minerva said sternly. “I need you to pack all of Theo Nott’s things and bring him here. He won’t be returning to Hogwarts.”
Dobby wrung his hands. “Students be missing from their beds, Miss Minnie.”
Minerva nodded. “The Order knows, Dobby. Go -- quickly.”
Dobby nodded and popped away again. She turned her attention back to Lord Nott.
“What about Hermione?”
“Thorfinn Rowle will take her and her parents to France. They’ll stay with Asmund.”
Minerva nodded. “She’ll like Asmund. They share similar concerns about the Wizarding World. How will Thorfinn get her across the border?”
“They’ll be wed.”
Minerva’s eyes widened. “She’ll hate you.”
He shrugged. “As long as she doesn’t hate her husband.” Ted won’t be around to face her anger. “I’ll take all the blame so it doesn’t spoil their bond.”
“Thorfinn is hot-tempered. So is your granddaughter. It’ll be a messy match.”
Ted didn’t imagine it would be a happy union -- not for a long while at least. “But she’ll be alive. And Thorfinn will do right by her.”
“He’s a cad,” Minerva snapped.
Ted smirked at her teasingly. “All wizards are, Min. Isn’t that what you told Lizzie on our wedding day?”
She blushed and looked away. Her lips pursed.
“I’m going to go speak with Hugo," he continued in a more serious tone. "He needs to know what’s happening before he leaves.”
“He’s here?” The hope in her voice was palpable.
Ted nodded. “I’ll have someone bring you to him before we go. He should remember you.”
Minerva’s face crumpled as she looked down. “I want to go with them,” she whispered.
“I need you here,” Ted whispered as he leaned forward. “Just until the end of the school year. Albus will want to bring her back, I’m certain of it. She’s been helping Potter for years. He’ll want that relationship to continue. But I can’t let her die like that. You mustn’t let Albus interfere with my plans.”
Minerva nodded. “Yes, yes, I know.” She looked up at her brother-in-law. “For Elizabeth.”
He smiled tiredly. “For Elizabeth. Things should be safe enough by the summer. You can slip away then. Take your time. Few know about our connection. Albus-"
"-He knows. But we haven't discussed it. He's alluded to making sure Hermine doesn't know her true lineage. I've simply not argued."
"Will he think you'll follow her?"
Minerva pursed her lips as she thought. "No. No, he believes I'm more loyal to the Order than anything else."
Ted raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you?"
Minerva's eyes turned flinty. "I'd kill Albus Dumbledore myself if it brought Lizzie back."
"It wouldn't."
"I know."
"It's his fault she's gone. It's my fault. If I hadn't joined up with Tom, Lizzie would still be here."
Minerva shook her head. "You don't know that. The stigma against squibs is strong. Especially so for pure-bloods. You still could have chosen this path."
Ted swallowed thickly. "No. There's nothing in this world that Lizzie loved more than our son, myself included. I know that. I'm not ashamed or jealous. I would have moved mountains for Hugo so that Lizzie would be happy."
Minerva took Ted's hand and squeezed it gently. "That's what you did, Teddy. Voldemort ordered you to kill Hugo. Lizzie asked you to save him. You did it. He's alive. You have a beautiful granddaughter. You did it."
Ted's eyes teared. "He was tortured," he whispered. If he spoke any louder, he'd burst into tears.
"He's alive," Minerva argued. "You did it."
Ted's head dropped. His forehead pressed against their clasped hands. His shoulders shook as he forced down the sob that threatened to escape. He allowed himself another moment of pity before he took a deep breath and straightened. Minerva's face when he looked at her was full of sadness. Hugo wondered if Lizzie would have looked as beautiful in her old age as her older sister.
“I must go speak with Hugo.”
Minerva's lips trembled. She nodded. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Ted smiled sadly. "Be safe, Minnie."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. He stood just as Theo popped into the room before him with his school trunk at his feet.
He looked around, eyes wide. “Father? What’s happened? Professor?”
Lord Nott uncharacteristically pulled his son into his arms.
Theo tensed all over. “Father?”
“I haven’t much time,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” He pulled back and turned to Minerva. “Will you explain my story?”
“Of course,” she whispered. “Come, Theo. Sit.”
Theo glanced at his father warily. “What’s happening?”
“I’ve defied the Dark Lord.”
Theo’s eyes widened. He reeled back.
“Sh… it’s okay. You’re going to France to avoid punishment. You remember Lord Rowle?”
Theo nodded shakily, his blue eyes pooling over with unshed tears.
“Good. He will take care of you and help you learn your role as Head of House.”
“ Father ,” Theo choked out.
Ted tightened his grip on Theo’s shoulders. “Don’t return to England until the war is over and he has lost. You’re not to have any contact with your school friends. Do you understand me?”
Theo nodded quickly.
“I need you… I need you to forgive me, Theo. There are many things I never told you and now I’ll never get the chance to.”
He studied his son’s young face. He had grown up to look so much like Hugo -- like himself. Tall and lean with high cheekbones and dark brown eyes. The characteristics of all Nott men.
“I have a granddaughter,” Lord Nott breathed out. Theo’s eyes widened. “You will look after her. Promise me.”
“I- I promise.”
Lord Nott nodded in satisfaction at his heir’s words. He moved to pull back but Theo wrapped his arms around his father. He pulled him in tightly.
“Come with me," he whispered.
“You know I can’t,” Ted replied softly. Voldemort would be able to track him wherever he went with the brand on his arm. He gripped Theo’s shoulder tightly. “Deep breath, Theo.”
Theo sucked in a sharp breath and reluctantly stepped back. Tears silently tracked down his cheeks. Ted nodded towards Minerva and Theo sat down in the seat the man had just vacated. He left the room before he could talk himself out of it.
Hugo next. He headed down the hall and found a nurses' station. “I’m looking for two muggles that were brought in?”
The welcome witch looked down at her clipboard and scanned the names. “A woman and a man?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have their information?” she asked and looked back up.
“It’s private. I’ll give it to their healer.”
She pursed her lips. “They’re being seen by Healer Wilson. He’s with the male patient in room 304. Down the hall on the left.”
Lord Nott nodded once and headed in that direction. He entered the room to see an older healer giving Hugo potions. He was free of blood and had been changed into a hospital gown. Healer Wilson looked up and nodded once at the appearance of Lord Nott.
“Theodore,” the old healer greeted with a kind smile. Ted was surprised to see the elderly healer. He’d been around St. Mungos for decades now. “I figured you’d be here sooner or later. Hugo is doing much better now.”
Healer Wilson smiled at the squib who looked far too much like Ted for the lord’s own sense of peace. Just like Theo took after him, so did his eldest son. They shared the same black hair and dark eyes. The same Roman nose and high cheekbones that Ted was so accustomed to seeing in the mirror could also be seen on the face of his sons.
“I’ve got him on a strict set of potions for the next twenty-four hours,” Healer Wilson continued happily. “He’ll be fit as a fiddle after that.”
“Is he well enough for a portkey?” Ted asked.
Hugo sent him a searching look that he ignored.
Healer Wilson nodded. “Certainly.”
“How is his wife?”
“Helena,” Hugo cut in. “Her name is Helena.”
Ted turned to his son. “Helena,” he corrected himself.
Healer Wilson sighed. “She has a longer road to recovery, I’m afraid. Will she also need to portkey?”
Ted nodded. “As soon as possible. They’ll be transferred to the Sylvain Poulin Hospitalier in Paris.”
The healer frowned but nodded. “I’ll have to put her under for it. She has a much higher tolerance to magic than I’d expect for a muggle.”
“She’s a squib,” Hugo revealed.
Ted and Healer Wilson turned to him.
He frowned in confusion. “We think so, at least. She doesn’t have any memories from before she turned eleven. It’s the custom for the French to obliviate their squibs, isn’t it?” He looked at his father.
Lord Nott nodded. “It was. But it’s changed in the past two decades. The royal family has been on a warpath about it. Will your wife be okay to return to France for the foreseeable future?”
“We go every year. It shouldn’t be a problem. Where’s Hermione? You said she was here.”
Healer Wilson and Ted shared a nod as the healer made his leave. Ted waved his wand and raised his security wards for the third time. He sat down at his son’s bedside.
It was surreal to see Hugo before him. He’d never intended to see him again. Elizabeth had taken care of Hugo’s integration into the muggle world. She’d searched for weeks to find him a loving home. The goodbye had been one of the most heart-wrenching experiences of his life.
Hugo was not magical enough for Hogwarts, but he had enough in him to still be a part of the family magic. It had felt like he was tearing a limb from his body when Hugo left. Lizzie had never recovered from it.
“Hermione was injured.”
Hugo jolted as if he meant to leap from the bed. Ted’s hand shot out and pushed down on Hugo’s chest to keep him in place.
“She’s fine. She will recover. But the three of you can’t remain in Britain.”
“Your dark lord,” Hugo sneered. “Hermione’s told us about him. I remember now too.”
Lord Nott sighed heavily. “Joining him was one of the greatest mistakes of my life. Followed very shortly by letting you go.”
Hugo frowned. “I agreed to leave.”
“I never should have suggested it.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. But what sort of life would I have had in your world? Your master would never have allowed me to live. I was a stain in his worldview. I wouldn’t have met Helena or had Hermione.” Hugo looked up and met his father’s eyes. “I am happy. I’ve had a wonderful life.”
“You will continue to do so.”
He stared steadily at his father. “But not you,” he guessed softly. “You’re not coming with us.”
Ted shook his head. “My time is short.”
Hugo nodded slowly. He looked away as he swallowed down his emotions. “And the House of Nott?” he asked in a strained voice.
“You have a brother.”
Hugo looked up in shock.
“I remarried seventeen years ago and Adriana passed shortly thereafter in childbirth.”
“Remarried?” Hugo’s blue eyes pooled with tears. “Is that why I can’t feel mum anymore?”
Lord Nott’s heart ached. He looked away from his son. He couldn’t bear to look at him as he said, “Your mother died a number of years after you left us.”
Hugo’s stuttering breath was all that could be heard in the silence that followed. “How?” he whispered.
Lord Nott visibly winced. “Magical core corruption.”
Hugo narrowed his eyes on his father. It was just a fancy term for ‘heartbreak.’ Hugo leaving the family had broken Elizabeth’s heart. The upset had been so great that her magical core was damaged and she eventually died. Hugo sucked in a sharp breath and looked away as the realization hit him.
“She would go and watch you walk home from school,” Ted told him. “Peek in on you at Christmas and send you a gift on your birthday. She was so proud when you entered muggle uni.”
Hugo’s tears fell down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Lord Nott shook his head. “She loved you more than anything in the world, Hugo. She didn’t blame you for anything, nor do I. We made the decision collectively. If the Dark Lord had killed you, it would have been far worse. There was no pain. She was happy until the very end.”
Hugo wiped his tears away. He sucked in a shuddering breath as he tried to compose himself. “My brother?”
“Theodore,” Ted said. “He’s Hermione’s age. I doubt they know each other much at all. He’ll continue our legacy.” He gave his son a sad smile. “Your presence in the family magic will help him in the years to come.”
“And Hermione.”
Ted hesitated. He knew Hugo wouldn’t react well to the decisions he’d made on Hermione’s behalf. “Theo is too young to use the family magic to impress his will upon anyone.”
Hugo frowned.
Ted raised an eyebrow. “Do you think she’ll willingly stay in France?”
“With the Dark Lord back and Harry in trouble? Not a chance. She loves him like a brother.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Hugo stared at his father. “What did you do?” he whispered.
“I’m going to marry her to Thorfinn Rowle.”
Hugo frowned in confusion.
“You remember his father, don’t you? Asmund was a lawyer that worked with me in the Wizengamot when you were younger.”
Hugo nodded, his confused frown still in place. “Vaguely. A big, blond man. He had a baby?”
“Yes, his son’s name is Thorfinn. He’s grown up to be bigger and blonder than his father,” Ted quipped.
Hugo shook his head. “No. Hermione’s just a girl. That boy must be decades older than her.”
“Just ten years or so. Thorfinn is still just a young man himself. But he’s old enough to take care of Hermione. The Rowles are a good family. Thorfinn owes our family a debt and he’ll repay it by keeping Hermione safe.”
“And happy?” Hugo questioned angrily. “What about that? Or loved? Hermione deserves to marry whoever she likes. This isn’t fair to her!”
“Would you rather her free for a short time, only to die before she reaches her majority?” he snapped and Hugo flinched. “I’m trying to save her life.”
Hugo closed his eyes. He leaned his head back against the pillow behind him. “Have you told her?”
“The healer will find me when she wakes and I’ll speak to her then.”
“I want to be with you.”
“Hugo-”
“-She needs me there.” He opened his eyes and turned to look at his father. “She’s my daughter. I can’t abandon her when she needs me. I’ll sit with you when you tell her.”
Ted raised an eyebrow. “You won’t try to stop me?”
Hugo shot his father a glare. “I know better than to fight family magic, but Hermione doesn’t. She won’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth, either.” He pushed back the heavy hospital blankets. “Let’s go, I want to see her.”
Ted helped his son to his feet. They slowly made their way across the room and out the door.
Healer Callum Marth was looking up and down the hall. His eyes brightened when he saw both of them. He immediately made his way toward them and took up Hugo’s other side to help him walk.
“Hugo,” he greeted warmly, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
Hugo frowned at the shorter black man. His eyes widened in recognition. “Callum?” He laughed weakly. “Christ.”
Lord Nott made a face when he heard the muggle expletive leave his son’s mouth.
“Heading to see your daughter?” Callum confirmed even as he guided them towards Hermione’s hospital room.
Hugo nodded. “You know?”
“I’m her healer,” he confirmed and Hugo looked impressed that his childhood friend had grown up to have such an elite occupation. “I might follow you to France until she’s well. They’re not familiar with this curse.”
Hugo’s hand tightened its grip on Callum’s shoulder. “Is it bad?”
Callum hesitated. “It could have been a lot worse.” The statement didn’t ease Hugo’s worries. “She’ll have a slow recovery,” the healer confirmed, “but she’ll be alright.”
Hugo released a breath of relief. They made it to Hermione’s hospital room and shuffled inside.
Hugo tensed at the hulking wizard that sat at his daughter’s bedside. He looked absolutely massive.
Lord Nott nodded at him. “Thorfinn.”
The blond wizard jumped to his feet.
He nodded at them. “Sir.”
Ted and Callum eased Hugo into a seat beside Hermione’s bed. “This is my son, Hugo.”
Thorfinn walked around the bed and held out his hand. “Sir.”
Hugo eyed him for a long moment before taking his hand. He shook it firmly. “If you hurt my daughter in any way, I will skin you fucking alive. Do you understand me? I’m a dentist, I pull people’s teeth out for a living .”
Thorfinn swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
He stepped back and stood with his hands behind his back. He looked like a soldier. Hugo couldn’t possibly imagine how this man could be good for his sixteen-year-old daughter. She was far too young for this.
Ted took the seat on the other side of the bed that Thorfinn had vacated. He nodded at Callum to begin waking Hermione and then turned to Thorfinn.
“Once I’ve married you two, I need you to go to the hospital administration and procure a portkey for the four of you and Theo. He’s with Minerva McGonagall down the hall.”
Thorfinn nodded.
“Aunt Minnie is here?” Hugo asked, shocked.
Ted nodded. “A stupid witch stunned her near death. I nearly had the woman strung up by her intestines.”
Hugo glared at his father. “Why didn’t you?”
Lord Nott smiled at his son.
Before anyone else could speak, Hermione began to wake. She moaned in pain. Healer Marth moved forward and fed her a potion that she reluctantly swallowed. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at her father in confusion.
“Dad?”
“Hey, pumpkin,” he greeted softly. He touched the top of her head as he ran comforting fingers through the curls there. “How are you feeling?”
“My chest hurts,” she gasped.
“It’ll pass,” Healer Marth told her. “The curse you were hit with was rather dark, but the counter curse was applied before any severe damage was placed on your magical core.”
Hermione nodded.
“Take it easy and don’t put any pressure on your abdomen. You’ll be taking several potions a day until you’re well again.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Hermione,” Lord Nott said.
Hermione turned to look at him and her eyes widened. He looked like an older version of her father. “Am I dreaming?”
“No, unfortunately, this is all very real.”
Hermione’s brows drew together. She tried to push herself into a sitting position. Hugo and Ted helped her to do so without hurting herself. She was gasping for breath by the time she was finally sitting upright. Healer Marth handed her a goblet of water which she accepted gratefully.
She considered Thorfinn Rowle at the end of her bed with a curious look before she turned to Lord Nott with a frown. “Are we related?”
Ted raised an eyebrow. “What gave it away?”
She shot him an unimpressed look that he’d seen a million times before on Lizzie’s face. “You look just like dad.” She glanced between him and her father. “Which is strange and I don’t like it.”
Hugo smiled at his daughter. “He’s my father.”
Hermione’s brows drew together again and she pursed her lips. “I thought your parents passed away when I was a baby?”
Hugo shook his head. “I’m a squib, like your mother. But my parents found me a loving family and memory charmed us.” Hugo saw the outrage begin to form on Hermione’s freckled face. “I asked them to, love. I wanted to live as a muggle. But I’m sorry if you feel as though I lied to you.”
She sighed and her shoulders sagged. “Why do you remember now?”
“They were attacked,” Lord Nott gently explained. “All of you have been made targets.”
Hermione’s head whipped around to her father. “ Maman ?”
“Safe,” Hugo replied calmly. “She’s hurt more than I am, but she’ll be okay. Healer Marth is a friend of mine from when we were boys,” he smiled fondly. “Callum is coming with us to continue to treat your maman .”
She stared at him, her eyes wet. “ She’s okay ?” Hermione questioned in her mother’s native French, a language she’d grown up speaking as well. “ You swear ?”
Hugo nodded. He understood the language fine, but he’d never managed to speak it himself. “I swear.”
She sighed in relief.
Hugo eyed his daughter as he said, “Plans have been made to get you out of Britain for the remainder of the war.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “No.”
Hugo sighed. “Hermione…”
“I’m not leaving Harry! He needs me.”
“You don’t have a choice, love.”
She glared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Lord Nott decided to take over. “We’re Sacred Twenty-Eight.”
Hermione’s head whipped around. She stared at Ted with wide eyes.
“I’m Theodore Nott Sr.”
She didn’t say anything at all, but the goblet in her hand began to shake. Ted calmly took the goblet and set it on the side table.
“The Sacred Twenty-Eight have family magic. Do you know what that is?”
Hermione nodded numbly.
“I want you to marry Thorfinn Rowle. I’d like not to order it, but I will if I have to.”
Hermione swallowed thickly. She turned to the man at the end of her bed. He was tall and broad-shouldered with bulging muscles. His blonde hair was long and he had a thick beard that was cut close to his jaw. Piercing blue eyes stared at her calmly. Lord Nott’s words finally clicked.
“No!” she shouted. She turned to her father, horrified that he was seemingly going along with this. “I’m sixteen!” she shouted. “I’m not getting married!”
Hugo winced. He shook his head. “I can’t say I’m exactly happy about it-”
“-Happy about it? You should be horrified. This is disgusting! It’s barely legal for me to have sex!”
“You won’t be having sex,” Ted interrupted. “You’re underage. Marriages like this aren’t uncommon, they’re simply treated like extremely formal engagements. You’ll have another, proper wedding when you’re older.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose. His words did not appease her in the least. “I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”
“Hermione,” Hugo said in a reasonable tone. He squeezed her hand and she turned back to him. “I don’t think you understand, love. If you stay in Britain, you’ll die.”
Hermione shook her head. “There are ways to hide me. I can stay in Britain, dad. It’ll be dangerous but I can do it. I can hide with the Order or-”
“-Unacceptable,” Lord Nott snapped.
Hermione shot him a glare. “I’m not asking for your permission.”
Hugo gently squeezed her hand. “He’s our Head of House. You do need his permission.”
Hermione looked aghast at the words coming from her father’s mouth.
“He will order you to marry Thorfinn if you don’t agree,” Hugo told her. “Lord Rowle won’t allow you to return to Britain once we’re gone. He’ll keep you, your mother, and myself safe in France. They’re doing us a massive favour here, Hermione.”
She scowled at that. It didn’t feel like a favour much at all. “And you’re okay with this?” She couldn’t believe it. It was insanity.
Hugo grimaced. “Am I okay with a man who’s about a decade older than my daughter marrying her when she’s still sixteen?” He shook his head. “No. You’re far too young for this. But you’re also headstrong and won’t listen to reason. I won’t lose you because you’ve decided to run off and help Harry. They will kill you, Hermione. I won’t have it.”
Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes. “So, you’re marrying me to a stranger ?”
“It’s not ideal, I’ll admit,” Hermione scoffed at her father’s words, “but the alternative is much worse.”
She turned to look at the blond man at the end of her bed. “And what do you have to say for yourself? You are this Rowle bloke, aren’t you?”
Thorfinn looked shocked at being addressed. He cleared his throat. “I owe your family a debt,” he replied in a deep voice. He nodded his head at her. “I’d be honoured to repay it by marrying you and keeping you safe.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and cocked her head to the side. Thorfinn forced himself not to squirm under her dark gaze. “That sounds like complete and utter tosh .” She fixed her glare on Lord Nott next, completely ignoring Thorfinn’s shocked expression. “Do you expect me to thank you for turning me into a bride at sixteen?”
Ted shook his head. “I have absolutely no doubts that you will resent me for this. I only ask that you don’t resent your father or your husband.”
She made a face at the word ‘husband.’
“Don’t ruin the blessing of a marriage bond because it’s not what you asked for at this moment in time. Resent me all you’d like, Hermione. But don’t resent your father for loving you enough to allow this to happen.”
She sneered at him. “What? Don’t you love me too?”
Lord Nott stared at her, his face impassive. “You look like your grandmother,” he told her. “I have loved no one and nothing else as much as I have loved Elizabeth. She’s gone now,” he told her. “But when she lived, her greatest joy was your father.”
Hermione looked over at her father who smiled sadly. She turned back to Lord Nott as he continued. “She would have loved and doted on you as if you were a gift from Merlin himself. When I see her again, I won’t have her upset that I didn’t do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Hermione felt an ache somewhere deep in her chest that she didn’t think was from her injury. “Will you be seeing her soon?” she asked quietly.
Lord Nott smiled tiredly. “I will. So, it’s very important that I see to your’s and Hugo’s safety before I go. Do you understand?”
Hermione’s brows drew together and she sucked in a breath to calm the wave of sadness that washed over her. She didn’t even know this man. All she knew was that he was a Death Eater and wanted to marry her to a stranger. She shouldn’t be upset at the thought of his passing.
Her tears fell. “I can’t just abandon Harry,” she argued in a tear-choked voice.
“He will understand.”
She shook her head. “I want to write him a letter. I want him to know in my own words what’s happened. He’s had too many people abandon him.”
Lord Nott glanced at Healer Marth and nodded his head. The healer departed. “Callum will bring you something to write with. In the meantime, we will do a handfasting. When you reach France, Lord Rowle will have you both perform a ritual marriage to bring you into the Rowle family magic.”
Lord Nott stood and gestured for Thorfinn to take his place. The hulking wizard sat down in the chair and held out a large, calloused hand for Hermione. She stared at it for a long moment before finally placing her hand into his own. His skin was sunkissed and golden. Her tanned skin didn’t look as dark in his as it did when she held Harry’s or Ron’s hand.
She stared at their fingers clasped together and wondered at what she was agreeing to. She couldn’t possibly be allowing this to come to pass. But with her father on one side of the bed and Lord Nott now standing at the end and Thorfinn beside her, she felt like she was trapped. They’d already decided what would happen to her. She had no way out of it.
Hugo let go of her hand as he sat back. Hermione shot him a teary-eyed look. He smiled sadly at her and nodded encouragingly. She took strength from his presence.
“Where’s mum?” She should be there too.
Hugo hesitated. “Still asleep.”
Hermione’s face crumpled and she fought valiantly not to cry.
“Ready?”
Hermione swallowed her tears and nodded quickly. Her mind was still racing to find a way out of this mess, but nothing was coming to her. She was too weak to move. She didn’t know how to apparate and even if she did, she doubted she’d be able to do it in her condition.
Lord Nott waved his wand at their clasped hands. A magical cord made of golden light wrapped around their hands and up their wrists all the way to their elbows.
“Groom and Bride,” he said in a strong voice, “this cord is a symbol of the lives you have chosen to lead together.”
Hermione felt her magic warm in her chest.
“Up until this moment, you have been separate in thought, word, and action. As your hands are bound together by this cord, so too, shall your lives be bound as one.”
Her magic raced down her arm until it met their clasped hands. Foreign power met her own and surged up her arm alongside her magic. Hermione gasped as it touched her magical core in the centre of her chest.
“May you forever be one, sharing in all things, in love, loyalty, and magic for all time to come.”
The foreign magic fell around her like a blanket. It was light and cool like a summer breeze. She could almost smell the ocean air around her. She’d never felt anything like it before. Her magic had never touched someone else like this. It felt intimate. It was all-encompassing. His magic surrounded her completely. Was that normal? Was it a sign of how powerful he was?
Hermione’s lashes fluttered open. She hadn’t even remembered closing them. Thorfinn raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it sweetly. His beard scratched against her soft skin. She stared at him with wide eyes. She could feel him. It was unlike any magic she’d ever been exposed to before.
Thorfinn stood and bowed his head to her and her father and then again to Lord Nott. He departed the room without another word. His magic left with him, all but a small tendril of the ocean that had settled in the centre of her chest.
“Where is he going?” she asked.
“To get us our portkey to France. We’ll be transferred to the magical hospital in Paris soon.”
“With maman ?”
Hugo pushed her curls behind her ear. “Yes, love.”
“Theo will join you,” Lord Nott told them. “I hope you’ll be kind to him. He’s your family.”
“Of course,” Hugo immediately responded.
“I’ll look after him.” Lord Nott nodded gratefully.
“He doesn’t want to stay?” Hermione asked.
Ted turned to her. She was incredibly naive about the ways of the Dark Lord. She had no idea just who she had chosen to stand against with her best friend.
“Theo will be punished for my betrayal if he stays. He’ll likely be marked against his will. I’m getting him out before anything like that can happen. He won’t endure my same mistakes.”
Hermione’s eyes glittered as she stared at him. Ted wondered just what the intelligent witch was thinking.
“How did you betray him?” she asked instead of saying whatever it was he knew had been on her mind instead.
Lord Nott’s dark eyes met the matching colour of his granddaughter’s. “I saved you.”
\/
The portkey to France was rough. It’d been a long time since Hermione had taken one and the last time, she hadn’t been injured. She cried out when they landed in Sylvain Poulin Hospitalier. Her knees buckled and she would have hit the marble floors if Thorfinn hadn’t caught her. He swept her up into her arms in a moment, despite her cry of shock. Hermione’s arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
The pain along her abdomen was burning hot like fire. She pressed her face into Thorfinn’s massive shoulder as her tears fell unbidden.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
“Healer Marth!” his voice boomed in the massive entrance of the French hospital.
Healer Marth was at their side in a second.
“Lower her down, let me have a look.”
Thorfinn took a knee and the healer crouched beside them. He gently pulled Hermione back from her husband and scanned her with his wand.
“The portkey aggravated the wound. We should get some ointment on it. It’s going to be alright, Mrs. Rowle. Let’s get you in a private room.”
Hermione didn’t even register the fact that the healer had called her Mrs. Rowle. She curled back into Thorfinn’s chest and let his soothing magic wash over her. He stood again and followed the assembly of healers, the Grangers, and Theo Nott further into the hospital.
Mrs. Granger was placed in a prepared room first. Hugo stayed with her. Thorfinn was led to a second room across from Mrs. Granger where he gently placed Hermione onto a hospital bed. Healers converged on her and he backed out of the room. The door closed and he turned.
Theo Nott stood in the hallway looking about as lost as Thorfinn felt.
“Fancy a cuppa?” he asked the younger Slytherin.
Theo looked up with a pair of dark brown eyes that looked wide in his angular face. He nodded quickly. Thorfinn spotted a sign that directed them toward the cafeteria and patted Theo on the back as they headed in that direction.
The cafeteria was two floors down and in the east wing. The Sylvain Poulin Hospitalier was three times the size of St. Mungos. They eventually found their way and shuffled into line to order their teas.
Thorfinn glanced down at Theo. His black hair was messy from hands running through it and his eyes were pink and puffy.
“How’re you handling it?” he asked gently.
Theo scowled at him. “How do you fucking think?”
Thorfinn shrugged. “Poorly by the looks of it.”
They shuffled forward in the line.
“My father’s walking to his death as we speak,” he ground out in a rough voice. “He’s dying for some mudblood.”
Thorfinn grabbed the front of Theo’s school sweater. He pulled the Slytherin to his toes as he bent down so they were at eye level.
“Watch your words about my wife, Nott.”
Theo swallowed.
“She’s also your family. She isn’t a muggle-born -- she never was.”
Thorfinn released him and Theo stumbled back. Thorfinn turned and smiled charmingly at the witch behind the counter as he ordered tea enough for all of them. He handed over the necessary sickles and levitated the take-out cups of tea as they began the slow wander back to their hospital rooms.
“He doesn’t even know her,” Theo persisted in a strangled tone. He kept his voice low and his head down.
Thorfinn shrugged. “Family magic has a way of making that a non-issue.” He raised a golden brow at the young wizard. “Her father is your older brother. She is family. And he obviously cares very deeply for her regardless of how well he may or may not know her. Would he do this for any random person?”
Theo scowled. “He wouldn’t even do this for me.”
Thorfinn came to a stop. He turned to Theo. “What the hell do you think he’s doing by sending you with us?”
Theo looked up.
“He’s doing this for you too, kid. He doesn’t want you to end up punished and tortured because he is a man that loves his family.”
Theo looked at him like he’d just professed his love for Hagrid. “He’s not exactly a loving man.”
Thorfinn shrugged and began to walk again. Theo raced to catch up. He wasn’t a short wizard, already at 180 cm, but Thorfinn dwarfed him, not to mention the fact that the blond moved with the grace and speed of an athlete.
“Everyone expresses their love differently,” Thorfinn said as they walked. “And pure-blood men find it especially difficult to confess their feelings.”
Theo couldn’t argue with that. Emotionally stunted was basically the tagline for most pure-blood families. They made it back to their floor and found Hermione’s door was still closed. They joined the Grangers instead.
“We brought tea.”
Hugo sighed. “Oh, that’s lovely. Thank you.” He took the offered cup and pulled the lid off. He took a deep breath and relaxed in his chair. “How’s Hermione?”
Thorfinn sat down on a chair against the side wall next to Theo and moved the remaining teas to the dresser beside them. He nodded to the door. “She’s still with the healers. Her curse is a bit complicated from what Lord Nott told me before he left.”
Hugo’s expression tightened at the mention of his father’s departure. Theo’s shoulders hunched.
The older Nott turned back to his wife. “Helena didn’t even stir during the portkey.”
“That’s good,” Thorfinn said and Hugo nodded.
Thorfinn’s eyes drifted over the muggle woman in the bed. Her injuries had been healed for the most part. She looked like she was simply sleeping. The cruciatus would take a long time to heal, he knew. He’d felt it only once himself when Marcus had decided to be a little shit and test out if he could actually do it. It’d hurt like a bitch and he’d punch Flint so hard after that he’d broken the other man’s cheekbone.
Helena Granger looked peaceful though, and Thorfinn hoped for her sake that she would recover quickly. Hermione looked like her a bit too, he noted absentmindedly as he stared at the woman. They had similar curls, though Helena’s were black whereas her daughter’s were a dark brown. Helena was darker too. She looked Indian with her long features and larger eyes. But she lacked the wild spiral to her hair that Hermione had and the freckles across her nose.
Thorfinn swallowed his too-hot tea and looked away. He could feel the fiery burn of his witch’s magic in his core and he itched to go to her side. He could feel that she was injured and his magic wanted him at her side to tend to her and ease her pain.
“You should contact your father,” Hugo told him.
Thorfinn looked up and nodded. “Good idea. He can probably feel that something’s changed.”
Although Hermione wasn’t a part of the Rowle magic yet, she was linked with his own personal magic. His father would be able to feel the shift in him.
Thorfinn stood and headed back out into the hall. He went to the large circular room at the end of the corridor. Large glass windows curved to show an unobstructed view of Notre Dame beyond. A set of glass stairs led to the next level and Thorfinn couldn’t help but think that Magical France put a lot more money into their healthcare than Magical Britain did. A clean white desk sat filled with nurses and healers bustling about it like a beehive.
“ Excuse me ,” Thorfinn said in French. He used to be awful at the language, but living and working in northern Quebec at one of the many Canadian dragon reserves had helped changed that quickly enough. “ I need to send an owl out to a concerned family member. ”
One of the nurses looked up from her work. She blushed fiercely at the sight of Thorfinn and he grinned charmingly.
“ Name ?” she asked as she batted her lashes.
“ Lord Asmund Rowle , he’s a lawyer at the International Summit. It’s urgent .”
The witch nodded and scribbled something out on parchment. She handed it to him. “ You can write your message here and we will send it off with a house-elf. It will arrive immediately, but it is not private. Okay ?”
“ Perfect. Thank you .”
He smiled charmingly again and took her quill. She giggled at him while he scribbled a note that would hopefully not alarm his father but get him there sooner rather than later. He was likely already waiting for Thorfinn to contact him. He handed the parchment and she rolled it up before sealing it with wax and the crest of the hospital.
“Mr. Rowle!”
He looked over his shoulder and spotted Healer Marth exiting Hermione’s room. Thorfinn nodded at the healer. He turned back to the nurse and thanked her again before shooting her a wink. He turned and quickly met Healer Marth outside Hermione’s room.
“How is she?”
“Better. We’ve reapplied the ointment. It has cooling properties that will soothe the fiery aspect of the curse. There isn’t any damage to her magical core.”
No, Thorfinn thought. He could feel that her magic was intact.
“She should stay here for observation for another twenty-four hours at least. You can take her home after that.”
Thorfinn let out a puff of breath. Home . They didn’t have a home in France. Norway, Ireland, and England, sure. They even had several homes dotted across the Netherlands. But his family had never settled anywhere in France. They’d have to find something before Hermione was released. His father would help with that.
“Is she awake?”
Healer Marth nodded.
Thorfinn thanked him before turning to Mrs. Granger’s room. Healer Marth followed.
“She’s awake and doing well,” he told the Notts as he picked up one of the extra teas. He handed it to Callum Marth who looked grateful. He picked up the last one and said, “I’m going to go sit with her. I sent a letter to my father so he should be here soon.”
Hugo nodded. “I’ll come and see her in a bit. I’m going to stay with Helena for now.”
Thorfinn eyed the older man. His shoulders were hunched and his brow furrowed. Thorfinn figured he felt guilty for his complacency in the quick handfasting. He bit his tongue and left without a word.
Across the hall, Thorfinn nudged the door closed with his boot before heading to his wife’s bedside. He handed her the last cup of takeaway tea.
“It’s black,” he told her. “I can get you milk or sugar.”
Hermione shook her head as she took the tea from him. “It’s fine.”
She held the warm drink in her lap and looked like she had no intention of drinking it at all.
“Do you feel better?”
She nodded. Thorfinn didn’t say anything else. He leaned back in his seat and quietly sipped his tea.
“He's going to be dead in a few hours,” she whispered.
Probably sooner, he thought. “Yes.”
Hermione looked up with watery eyes. “Is it my fault?”
Thorfinn thought about that. He shook his head after a moment. “If I was in his place, I’d have done the same thing. While you’re a part of the reason he made the decision, I think it really comes down to what would have happened if he’d done nothing at all.”
Her tears had fallen at some point during his silent deliberation, but she looked curious about what he said. “What do you mean?”
Thorfinn leaned forward and cupped his tea between both of his hands. “I mean, could he face himself after letting his son and granddaughter be murdered? Could he live with himself? He sounded very much like he cared what his late wife thought of him. He didn’t want to disappoint her.”
Hermione nodded.
“So, to an extent, I suppose you are at fault. But only because he cared about what happened to you and that’s not something you’re responsible for. You can’t control how others feel or what they do with those emotions.”
Hermione stared at him for a long moment. Thorfinn looked down. Bloody hell, he should have just said “no” and moved on.
“Thank you.”
His head shot up and he looked at her with wide eyes. She was back to staring at her paper cup full of tea like the conversation hadn’t happened in the first place. A grin tugged at the corner of Thorfinn’s lips.
“I owled my father,” he told her. He figured she deserved forewarning. “He should be here soon.”
Hermione was quiet for a long time. Thorfinn didn’t think she was going to speak again at all until she asked, “He lives in France?”
He looked up at her.
“Your father?" she pressed. "He’s French?”
Thorfinn shook his head. “Our ancestors were Vikings. We came down from Norway to Britain. My father is an International Lawyer though, he’s fluent in several languages.”
She eyed him doubtfully. “Are you also a lawyer?”
He choked on a startled laugh. “Bloody hell, no. I'm a dragon trainer out of Canada.”
She blinked widely at that. “Oh.” Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Won’t they be mad that you’ve left for France?”
He shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “It's seasonal contract work. You ever try to wrestle with a dragon in the middle of mating season?”
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Obviously not."
He chuckled. "Well, I don't recommend it." He shot her a wink.
Unlike the nurse outside, Hermione was unaffected by his charms. She shot him an ambivalent look and sipped her tea imperiously. Thorfinn's smile widened.
"What?" she demanded.
"Nothing." He ran a hand down his face. "I just- I don't get how anyone could have thought you were a muggle-born. You act like a pure-blood."
Hermione's lips pursed as she scowled. "Well, that's just uncalled for."
Thorfinn laughed loudly. After a moment, he nodded at her. "Hey."
Hermione looked up from her lap.
"It's gonna be alright. I mean, it's gonna be a mess for a bit. But you and your parents are safe and we're gonna keep it that way. We'll figure the rest of it out."
"Harry will never forgive me," she whispered.
Thorfinn shrugged. "Then he's a shite friend."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "No! He's my best friend. He's a fantastic friend."
"Then he'll forgive you," he reasoned easily.
Hermione's mouth opened, but no words came. Thorfinn raised his eyebrows at her. He sipped his tea. They lapsed into silence again.
“Where’s my father?” Hermione asked after she'd finished her tea.
“In the room across the hall,” he explained, “with your mother. She’s still resting.”
“Will she be okay?” she asked in a whisper.
Thorfinn nodded. “It’ll just take time. She’s a squib, that’ll help her heal faster.”
Hermione shook her head. “What’re the chances? I knew my mother was a squib, but the chances of her marrying another person who happened to be a squib? It seems so improbable.”
“It’s actually a lot more likely than you’d expect. Squibs aren’t usually completely devoid of magic. Your father, for example, is clearly still within the Nott family magic. He probably wasn’t born with enough magic to get him through Hogwarts, but he’s still a part of the family.”
Hermione raised a curious brow. “We’re taught that squibs don’t have any magic whatsoever.”
“A lot of them don’t. But ones that are a part of pure-blood families tend to still be connected to the family magic. Magic seeks magic. Squibs often end up marrying other squibs. It’s how old pure-blood lines that people once thought had died out, come back.”
“So, my mother is also a pure-blood?”
Thorfinn shrugged. “You don’t need to be a pure-blood to have family magic. She’s probably from an old family though.”
There was a knock at the door and a moment later it opened to reveal a massive man that could be none other than Lord Rowle. He was as tall as his son and had the same hulking build. His own blond hair and beard were greying, unlike his son’s deep golden colour.
“Thor,” Asmund greeted with a breath of relief. He closed the door behind him as his son stood and greeted him with a firm hug. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Asmund looked past his son to Hermione and one of his heavy brows rose high on his forehead. “And who is this?”
“Hermione,” Thorfinn introduced tightly, “my wife.”
Hermione winced at the pronouncement. Thorfinn fought valiantly not to wince as well. It was awful. It truly was terrible. She was so young. Thorfinn couldn’t even look at her with any serious interest. She was so fucking young to him. It would take years before either of them was even in a place to entertain a relationship.
Asmund took it all in stride with the calm of a well-seasoned solicitor. “Explain,” he ordered calmly.
“Lord Nott set it up. He- there was an incident. I went for drinks with Flint and Pucey and then they pulled me into the Death Eater thing-”
“- Thorfinn ,” his father scolded.
“I know! I know. I didn’t participate. But I didn’t stop them. Hermione’s parents got hurt. Lord Nott saved them and I-”
“-He saved them.”
“He’s my grandfather,” Hermione explained. “My father is a squib. My mother as well.”
Asmund studied Hermione carefully. “You’re Hermione Granger.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lord Nott will not be punished lightly for this.”
“He’s made arrangements for his… death. Theo is here– Theo Nott. As well as my parents.”
“Lord Nott needed Hermione to come to France,” Thorfinn explained. “He needed to make sure she was protected and Theo will be too young and new to his role to ensure he can do the job. I owed their family a debt. I paid it.”
Asmund released a slow breath. “This is why I sent you to Canada.”
Thorfinn’s mouth twitched. “I’m aware.”
Asmund turned back to Hermione. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Jesus,” the wizard whispered as he dropped his face into his hand. “Alright. Well, I suppose I ought to see Theo and sort some of this shit out.” He pointed to Hermione. “You’re not returning to England. I know you're friends with Potter, but I can’t have you running back and getting hurt.”
Hermione’s lips pursed. “I’m aware,” she snapped. “Lord Nott has made that abundantly clear. It’s the main reason I was forced to marry your son.” Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have you know, I do not appreciate being controlled. I will find a loophole and when I do, you’d best hope I don’t come after you first.”
Asmund and Thorfinn stared at her for a long moment. The two Rowles turned to one another.
“She’s definitely a Nott,” Asmund pointed out blandly.
“No doubt about it,” Thorfinn returned in the same tone of voice.
Hermione huffed loudly.
The End