Chapter 13
Hermione
Theo was acting strange. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but now she found herself ruminating on his behaviour almost constantly. He was jumpy, distracted– and at times, it almost felt like he was avoiding her.
The two of them were walking out of Ancient Runes together– Hermione excitedly going on about a Rune she’d just found an alternative translation for, when Harry caught up to them.
“Headed to lunch?” Her best friend asked, falling into step with the two of them. Hermione nodded, and she saw Harry glance at Theo, giving him an unreadable look.
“Er, I have to run back to my room for something. I’ll catch up with you later,” Theo muttered suddenly, turning away and heading for the direction of the Slytherin dorms.
Hermione paused, almost calling after him before she turned back to Harry. “That was odd,” she said, brow furrowed.
“Hm? I suppose- anyways, what did I hear you saying about a new translation? Have you checked out Advanced Runes by– what’s his name again? Bipstein? Bisher?” Harry asked, avoiding Hermione’s gaze.
She narrowed her eyes. “Harry.”
“What? We’d better go meet Ron, he’ll be waiting–” Harry said, still not looking at her.
“Stop, Harry. Why are you being so dodgy? First of all, since when have you taken an interest in my Rune translations? Secondly, it’s Yuri Blishen– and yes, you know I’ve read that book. You were with me when I bought it during sixth year,” she said, yanking him to the side of the corridor.
“I was just curious! I’m not being dodgy, I just don’t want to be late–” he started, trying to shake her off his arm.
“Harry! You honestly think I wouldn’t notice when you’re behaving like you’ve just been Confunded? First Theo is acting off, and now you? Did all my male friends decide to make some sort of pact to avoid eye contact with me?” Hermione asked, feeling both embarrassed and confused.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, I'd rather not be the one to explain this to you,” Harry grumbled.
“Explain what?!” She demanded, her voice rising.
“Shh, stop shouting, you’ll draw attention. I just mean I’m– it’s a bit uncomfortable for me, considering I see you as a sister. Nott, however, clearly does not,” he said, mumbling the last part.
“Pardon? What are you on about? Just spit it out,” she pleaded.
“Nott was checking you out. Very obviously, I might add– it was impossible not to notice, and when he realized I had, he scampered off to his dorm. Probably to have a– nevermind,” Harry said, his face coloring.
Hermione felt her face heat in turn. “Harry! It's not like that. I’m sure you just misinterpreted–”
“I most definitely did not misinterpret anything, ‘Mione. Surely you know that Nott fancies you, right? I think the whole bloody school knows it by now,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.
“He doesn’t fancy me, exactly– it’s complicated. I don’t think he’s the type to look at me like– er, like that, especially in public,” Hermione said.
“I don’t think it’s complicated for him. He’s got it nearly as bad for you as Ron did for Romilda when he ate those chocolates back in sixth year,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “And besides, I hate to break it to you, but any bloke is the type to check a girl out. I don’t think he heard a word you said, he was far too busy staring down your shirt,” he finished, his face scarlet now.
Hermione smacked him. “Ouch! What was that for?” He asked, rubbing his arm.
“For being a pig. I know Theo, and I know he wouldn’t do that,” she insisted. For some reason, the moment the words left her mouth, she found herself thinking– but I wish he would.
Shaking the impure thoughts from her head, she yanked her best friend along. “Come on, let’s go find Ron and pretend this conversation never happened.”
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Hermione was still puzzling over Harry’s words the following day. Theo had told her he'd promised Malfoy and Blaise he would help them study in their common room, which Hermione had found rather suspicious. It was the first time he’d ever canceled on their study dates, and the fact that he’d avoided her the rest of the day made her even more skeptical. The two of them had even begun partnering up during Potions, but he had been late to class today (which was also very unlike him), forcing her to partner up with Padma Patil instead.
When he arrived, he barely looked in Hermione’s direction, which bothered her more than it should have. Gods, he frustrated her sometimes. Unfortunately, due to his late arrival, Theo was now stuck with Ian McAvoy, who was notorious for shirking his work onto others. Although Hermione wasn’t particularly fond of Padma, the Ravenclaw was quite good at Potions, and the two of them were able to brew their Veritaserum with ease. Of course, Hermione knew exactly how to brew it, but in preparation for their N.E.W.T.s Slughorn was using class time to help students practice brewing the potions they’d already learned. Padma and Hermione were the first ones done, which gave them a chance to sit at their desks and study while they waited for others to finish.
Hermione, however, found she couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the Slytherin a few seats down from her. "I don’t think he heard a word you said, he was far too busy staring down your shirt," Harry had said. Was it possible that Harry had seen correctly? Was Theo as attracted to Hermione as she was to him? She studied him from her vantage point, knowing he was distracted with his brewing. He had to be the tallest boy in their year, she thought, even a few inches taller than Ron. He was athletic looking somehow, although she knew he didn’t really play any sports. He had rolled his white button-down up to his elbows, and Hermione couldn’t help but stare at the veins on his forearms, watching the muscles work as he chopped Sopophorous beans.
Hermione’s eyes moved up to his neck, his tie as neat as ever. She wished she could grab him by the tie and pull him close to her, pressing her lips against his neck and inhaling his scent...– Her face flushed as she realized he had paused what he was doing to follow her eyes as they roved up and down his body. Reluctantly, she brought her eyes up to meet his, feeling the heat wash through her as she bit her lip. He stared back, his lips slightly parted, and suddenly, he jerked his arm up, as if something had startled him, and it collided with his cauldron, sloshing the potion all over the desk and himself. Theo jumped back, his shirt soaked in Veritaserum, his hands shaking. Ian had jumped as well, looking at Theo like he was out of his mind.
“Mr. Nott?!” Professor Slughorn asked, approaching Theo in concern. “Merlin, what happened– are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Theo said, his face scarlet. “I’ll just go get cleaned up,” he said, starting towards the door.
“Mr. Nott! Please allow me to help– if the potion is absorbed into your skin it could–” Slughorn began.
“I’ll be fine– I’ll take care of it,” Theo choked, backing out of the classroom and turning to run.
Slughorn turned to the rest of the class, his eyes wide, as if he expected one of the students to know how to handle this.
“I’ve got it– I’ll go after him,” Hermione found herself saying. Slughorn nodded at her, his face relieved.
She took off running down the hall, not bothering to grab her bag, and she saw him turn the corner. Not wanting to lose sight of him, she picked up her speed until she spotted him entering a classroom, and realized it was the empty one they normally used to practice dueling for Charms. Yanking the door open, she stepped inside, trying to catch her breath. Except she couldn’t– because there Theo was, standing shirtless with his clothes now crumpled on the floor. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to speak as she stared at him, his lightly tanned chest, his firm stomach- muscles tensed, the fine line of hair leading to his trousers. She could see his skin was damp where the Veritaserum had spilled, making his skin sparkle with the incandescent potion.
“Hermione?” Theo said, his face flushed.
“I just came to see if you were okay,” she whispered, still unable to take her eyes off him.
“I’m fine,” he said, looking mortified. “I can’t believe I just did that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”
Hermione stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm, to reassure him. “It’s not a big deal, Theo. Accidents happen. Barely anyone noticed,” she lied, allowing her fingers to graze his bicep. She watched as goosebumps rose on the spot she had just touched.
“Of course they noticed– I probably handled it in the worst possible way, and now I’m soaked in bloody truth serum,” he groaned.
“Do you need help? Let me clean you up,” Hermione said softly.
“It’s fine– I can cast a Scourgify myself,” Theo objected, but she could hear the hesitation in his voice, almost like he wanted to say yes.
“I know you can. I meant the Muggle way,” she said softly.
Theo didn’t say anything, but she saw his throat bob as he nodded.
Conjuring a washcloth and a bucket of soapy water, Hermione took a step closer. “I’m going to have to touch you– is that okay?”
“Yes,” Theo breathed, eyes wide.
Gingerly, she began to sweep the cloth across his skin, beginning at his collarbone. As she wiped his chest gently, she noticed the muscles ripple under her touch as he drew in a sharp breath.
“How does that feel– is that okay?” She asked, feeling a fluttering in her lower abdomen.
“It feels fucking incredible,” he said huskily, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry– I don’t know where that came from,” he said, panicked.
His words had caused the fluttering to grow into something more intense, and Hermione felt herself longing to touch him all over- to toss the washcloth to the side and explore him with her fingertips. She restrained herself, biting her lip as she continued wiping his body. When she grazed his abs, she heard him stifle a moan, and she felt a strange sense of power over him then– that she could elicit a reaction like that. She took her time, being far more thorough than she normally would have.
When Hermione was done, she pulled out her wand and cast a Scourgify on his clothes on the floor. Hermione had no idea what compelled her to do this, but she picked up his shirt and walked behind him, holding it open as she took his arm and helped him into it. He tensed for a moment but she felt him relax as she pulled it over his back. Moving onto the front, she began buttoning his shirt, starting from the bottom and working her way up, allowing her fingers to graze his skin a few times as she worked. She could feel his breath coming rapidly, and emboldened, she reached for his tie and wound it around his neck, lifting his collar to tuck it underneath. She tied it in a knot and smoothed it down onto his chest before reaching up and adjusting his collar once more, allowing her other hand to linger on his neck for a few seconds.
She stepped back and gazed up at him, satisfied with her work. “Perfect,” she whispered.
Theo’s eyes were wide, his cheeks pink, and he was looking at her like she could rip his heart out right now and he would let her. Hermione had never seen anyone look at another person that way, and it made her ache with want but also long to comfort him somehow.
“Theo– I’m sorry if that was too much– I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” she said, biting her lip anxiously.
“Hermione– please,” he said, his voice thick, then clapped his hand over his mouth again.
She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Fucking hell. I think maybe that’s what Slughorn was trying to tell me– that Veritaserum can be absorbed through your skin. I remember reading that it had happened to others before,” Theo said, squeezing his eyes shut and running his fingers through his hair, leaving it messy and tousled.
“Now that i'm thinking about it, you’re probably right– are you– do you want me to go get him? Slughorn, I mean?” Hermione asked.
Theo shook his head. “I think it’s fine– I don’t feel sick or anything, I’ll probably just need to wait for it to wear off. But Hermione– you should go.”
“It’s okay, that was my last class of the day. I can- I can stay with you,” she said.
“Please, Hermione– I’m afraid I’m going to say something I shouldn’t,” he pleaded, and she could see the panic building behind his eyes.
Hermione wanted to beg him to let her stay, to say all the things he thought he shouldn’t– but she didn’t want to push him. She knew what had happened before, how he had reacted when she’d essentially backed him into a corner. As much as she wanted to hear what he had to say, she knew it would be wrong to force it out of him this way, especially when he clearly wasn’t ready to tell her.
“Okay, okay. But promise me you’ll come find me once it wears off? I want to see y– I want to make sure you’re alright,” she said hastily.
“If I haven’t locked myself in the dungeons by then, I promise I’ll come find you,” he said, with the ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Hermione– for coming after me, for helping me, for–” he covered his mouth again. “I’ll see you later, I swear,” he said, and she could see he was struggling.
“Okay. I’ll go. Bye, Theo,” she said as she closed the door.
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Hermione was a nervous wreck. She oscillated between feeling guilty that she had overstepped a boundary, and being desperately curious about what Theo had been holding himself back from saying. She wondered how long they would play this game– neither of them acknowledging their feelings, always stopping short of going any further than an innocent graze of the hand or kiss on the cheek.
Hermione wondered how long she could play this game without losing her mind. She’d never felt an attraction like the one she felt towards Theo, and she knew he felt the same way. Knew it in her soul. Hermione had tried to be as patient as she could, to give him the time he needed, to be understanding, to be his friend. But she wanted more. She thought back to her conversation with Malfoy weeks ago– “Don’t push him, but don’t pull away either. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.” But when would he be ready?
Of course, Hermione knew she wasn’t going anywhere– even if she wanted to, she could never walk away from Theo. The dance was in less than a week, and she still had no idea if he would show up. If he would be willing to admit that he was her pen pal. She knew Theo very well now, well enough to know that showing up to a dance with the entire school and admitting his feelings for her was probably scaring the ever-living shit out of him. She wished she could take the pressure off for him, let him know that she didn’t expect some grand gesture– maybe meet him halfway somehow. Suddenly, an idea dawned on her– a way in which she could do all of those things. The more she thought about it, the more she thought it might actually work. Tired of sitting around and overthinking, Hermione jumped out of the armchair she’d settled herself in to go in search of perhaps the one person who knew Theodore Nott better than she did.
“It’s not a bad idea, actually,” Malfoy said as they circled the Black Lake. “Knowing Nott, he’s probably dreading having to approach you in front of a whole crowd of people. He’d be a nervous wreck.”
“That’s what I was thinking as well,” Hermione said. “So you don’t think I’d be pushing him? What if he’s not ready to tell me how he feels?”
The blonde shook his head, shrugging his shoulders in exasperation. “I know I said not to push him, but our dear friend Theodore is going to need at least a small push if he’s ever going to get off his sorry arse and finally bloody go for you. I’m afraid if he keeps putting it off, he’ll never do it– maybe he’d even jump off the Astronomy tower instead,” he joked.
Hermione shot him a look. “Not funny, Malfoy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, maybe that joke was in poor taste. But you get what I mean. The man is the living definition of a tortured poet. I realize it probably doesn’t feel great to be the one planning out grand gestures, but I promise Nott will get there. He would treat you like bloody royalty if he could stop dragging his feet so much– I think he just needs some help getting there. He’s never done any of this before, you know.”
Hermione nodded. “I get it,” she said, taking in a big breath. “So I’m doing this, then?”
Malfoy looked at her expectantly. “I mean, I’m hardly the one to make that decision, Granger. Are you doing it?”
She paused for a moment then nodded resolutely. “Yes. I’m doing it. But I’m going to need your help, okay?”
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Four days later, Hermione stood in her dormitory, pacing nervously. Tonight was the night, and she’d gone back and forth about whether or not this was a good idea about a million times. Luckily, she’d conned Ginny into helping her turn her mane of curls into something presentable, so that was one thing off her plate. The girls were friends, but mainly because of their connections– Ginny dating one of her best friends and being siblings with the other. She and Ginny got along well– well enough to share a room at the Burrow, but rarely spent time together at school unless Harry or Ron initiated it. Luckily, Ginny loved a good makeover, and had grinned devilishly when Hermione had enlisted her help.
“So are you going to tell me why you’re so nervous?” The redhead asked, sitting cross-legged on Hermione’s bed as she eyed her curiously.
Hermione bit her lip, considering. “Erm, well… I’m sort of interested in someone. Not sort of. I’m very interested. But it’s rather complicated between us.”
“You’re referring to Theodore Nott?” Ginny asked, feigning indifference as she turned her hand over, inspecting her nails.
“Erm, yes,” Hermione choked. “How did you know?”
“Please, Hermione. Do you think I'm blind? When the two of you aren’t together, you’re exchanging ‘fuck-me’ looks across the Great Hall,” Ginny said, providing a disturbing reenactment of said faces.
“Gods, I hope I don’t look at him like that,” Hermione said, watching at her friend in dismay.
Ginny nodded empathetically. “You do, unfortunately. If it makes you feel any better, the ones he gives you are even worse. The poor bloke’s clearly in love with you.”
“I think I might be in love with him,” Hermione whispered, clenching her fists nervously.
That seemed to get Ginny’s attention. “Hermione. Seriously? Thats– wow. I’m happy for you. So if that's the case, why the hell haven’t you two gotten together? The feeling is clearly very mutual.”
Hermione groaned, flopping onto the bed next to her. “It’s so bloody complicated, Ginny. He’s been through a lot– he hasn’t had an easy life.”
“Neither have you,” Ginny said gently, but she could see her fiercely protective side threatening to emerge.
“I know. But I’ve always had people who loved me. I’ve never had to go through life alone. I think he’s just afraid of having something good in his life– at least, that’s what Malfoy says,” Hermione explained.
Ginny gagged. “Did you just say Malfoy? So now you’re having little heart-to-hearts with Malfoy? And this is the first I am hearing of your feelings for Nott?” She asked, crossing her arms and shooting Hermione a disgruntled look.
“Oh stop it, Gin. It’s not like Malfoy and I are close or anything, he just knows Theo better than anyone else. He’s helped me to make sense of all his mixed signals,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I see. Well, seeing you tonight will definitely put a stop to all those mixed signals. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you when I’m finished with you,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I don’t know,” Hermione said, feeling rather insecure, suddenly. “I’m quite scared, to be honest with you.”
“What exactly are you afraid of?” Ginny asked.
“I think I’m afraid of putting myself out there and getting nothing in return,” she replied.
“Well…” Ginny said slowly. “I mean, are your feelings for him contingent upon him returning them? Do you think you would be able to handle it if he wasn’t ready to express how he felt about you?”
Hermione pondered. “Honestly? I guess I am. It would hurt, of course, but I feel like I’ve come this far, and I’m at the point where something has got to give. At least he’ll know how I feel, right?”
Ginny reached over and squeezed her hand. “He would be absolutely bonkers not to fall all over himself for you, Hermione. You’re a catch- just remember that, okay?”
Hermione smiled, feeling slightly bolstered by her friend’s pep talk. “Thanks, Gin. I suppose, er- shouldn’t we be getting ready?”
Ginny jumped up, clapping her hands together in delight. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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Roughly an hour later, Hermione was standing in front of the mirror, studying herself. Ginny had swept her hair up in a half up-do, a braid wrapping around the back, secured with some serious Cresta Capillus charms and a few Muggle bobby-pins, courtesy of Hermione. Ginny had used just a couple Glamour charms on her face– nothing too heavy, but Hermione was pleased with the way her eyelashes framed her brown eyes, the slight pink to her cheeks, and the tinted gloss on her lips. Hermione had opted for a dress rather than robes– something a surprising number of her female friends were doing as well. She still couldn’t believe she’d let Ginny talk her into a red dress, but she had to admit, it made her feel rather bold. Sexy, even– a word she’d normally never use to describe herself. It was conservative enough to not raise brows, but it hugged her curves in a way she quite liked.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to Ginny. “I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, right?”
Ginny smiled at her, looking stunning in a soft green strapless dress, her hair pulled up into a low bun. “You’re going to blow him away, Hermione.”
“I hope so. Thanks again, Gin,” Hermione said as she headed out the door.
As she entered the library, Madam Pince eyed her skeptically. “Ms. Granger,” she said.
“Hello, Madam Pince. Thank you again for this,” Hermione said, flushing slightly.
“Hm,” the woman said, watching Hermione over her spectacles. “No funny business, right?”
“Of course not,” she responded, feeling her face heat again.
Hermione made her way to the table she and Theo usually occupied, unsure what to do with herself. Should she read? She banished the thought immediately, knowing she was far too nervous to focus on a book. She fiddled with her hair, then quickly dropped her hands as she remembered Ginny’s stern reminder not to mess with her hard work. All she could do was wait, she realized. She felt her stomach doing somersaults, hoping everything would go according to plan and Malfoy would be able to get Theo here before he either headed into the dance or began spiraling and locked himself in his bedroom. She thought of the last message she had written in their notebook– one she had scribbled to him only hours ago. The prompt had been about how they were feeling about meeting each other, if they had chosen to go forward with it.
I’m not afraid to meet you face-to-face, Mystery. Of course, I’m a bit nervous, but only because it’s intimidating to be vulnerable like this, to open myself up to someone. But I’m not afraid of who I’m going to meet. I know you. I know your heart. And I already know how I feel about you– I made up my mind a long time ago. So please, just come as you are. Don’t worry about making a perfect first impression, or some grand gesture or confession. I don’t care about any of that. Please don’t run from me, and I promise I won’t run from you.
When she re-read it, Hermione had felt a bit queasy, like she was reading the script for some cheesy Muggle romance film. But she had meant every word. She was nervous, but she knew what she wanted. She knew how she felt about Theo– in fact, she couldn’t think of a time in her life when she’d been more certain than she was right now. Every single encounter, every private note they’d written, had all been leading up to this. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest, but she was ready. Hermione glanced at the clock, knowing it was only a matter of minutes.