Chapter 14
Theo
“Are those for Granger or me?” Draco asked, leaning over to sniff at the flowers on Theo’s desk. “Mm. Lovely. How did you know pink was my favourite?”
Theo snatched them up. “Piss off, Draco,” he muttered. He was feeling especially dark and brooding this evening, as if his mind was preparing him for the impending disaster that was sure to befall him.
“Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Nott,” Draco said, giving Theo a smack on the back of the head.
“What the hell?” Theo asked, rubbing his head in irritation. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself–”
“Yes you are. And for the life of me I can’t understand why, because the witch clearly fancies you,” Draco said, tucking a flask into his robes. “Need a nip of this? Liquid courage?”
Theo scowled but snatched the flask from his best friend, taking a generous sip. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Draco said, imitating Theo in a whiny, unflattering tone. “Yes I do, you dolt. Now can we go please? I need to stop off in the library for something first.”
“Why are you being such a git tonight? You’re supposed to be making me feel better. And what in Merlin’s name do you need from the library at 8pm? Exams are over,” Theo sulked.
“I think I left my wand there. I just need to check– it’ll only take a second,” Draco insisted, yanking on Theo’s robes as he pulled him away from the mirror where he’d been messing with his hair. “Quit preening, Theodora. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”
Theo grumbled as Draco practically dragged him down the hall. At least his friend’s especially prattish behavior tonight kept his mind off of what he was about to do. As they entered the library, Theo suddenly skidded to a halt. “Wait, Draco,” he said, panicked.
“What? You didn’t piss yourself, did you?” Draco asked.
Theo glared at him. “No, you prick. I just realized I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m meant to say to her,” he said, his eyes widening with alarm. “Perhaps I should have written something down or–”
“Ah yes, nothing says romance like reading from a piece of parchment like a bloody script. Besides, when you see her you’ll probably forget how to read anyways,” Draco replied, still yanking on Theo’s arm.
“You’re a nasty little git, you know that? And why are you being so handsy? I can walk by myself, and I don’t see why you need me to help you find your blasted–” Theo stopped short. Hermione Granger was sitting in front of him looking more stunning than he’d ever thought possible.
“Hi, Theo,” she said, standing up and nervously smoothing her dress.
“Hi Hermione,” he said, his mouth dry as he took in the sight of her. Gods, that dress should be illegal, he thought.
“And I suppose no one wants to say Hi Draco? Fine, I’ll be going. Enjoy, kids,” Malfoy said, turning to walk away with a smirk.
“Do you want to sit?” Hermione asked. He could tell she was nervous.
“Sure,” was all he could manage. Fuck, he hadn’t been prepared to see her like this. He was expecting to find her in a crowded room with loud music, not alone in the library, looking at him with her big brown eyes and that bloody dress.
“Theo,” she said, reaching for his hand. “I don’t expect you to say anything. I asked Malfoy to bring you here so we could have a moment alone before we had to walk into the dance. I needed to talk to you about something.”
His heart sank. Was she about to tell him she wasn’t interested in anything romantic? She must have seen the expression on his face, because she quickly reassured “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
Theo nodded mutely, waiting for her to go on. “I have feelings for you, Theo. Quite strong ones, actually. I have for a while now. I know you might not be ready, or you might not even feel the same way, and that’s okay. I’m not telling you this so you feel pressured to confess anything to me in return. I think I just needed– I couldn’t keep pretending like I just wanted to be your friend. I want more than that. I want– I want to be with you,” she finished, and he could feel her pulse racing as he held her hand.
He stared at her in astonishment. Fucking hell, she was so brave. To confess something like that without knowing how he felt in return– he had to let her know. He couldn’t let her jump off that cliff alone. “Hermione– I don’t even know how to begin to express how I feel about you. I’m so sorry that I haven’t made it clear–that you’ve had to question whether or not I feel the same way,” Theo said, meeting her eyes as a very unfamiliar feeling of courage rushed into him.
“I haven’t told you how I felt, partially because I’m terrified and I’ve never done this before, but also because there’s just no way you feel as strongly as I do. If you knew how long I’d liked you, Hermione…” he trailed off, wondering if he should back off, if he was coming on too strong.
“You mean it’s been going on longer than this term for you?” Hermione asked, her eyes widening.
He reached up to nervously run his fingers through his hair, but Hermione caught his hand and brought it to her face, her lips brushing his knuckles. His mouth opened and then shut. “You really want to know?” He whispered.
“Please,” she replied earnestly.
“Since second year,” he finally said, feeling like he was free falling, unsure when he would land. His stomach flipped.
Her jaw dropped for a moment, but her eyes were warm and she looked pleased. “You noticed me even then? But I was awful to look at,” she mumbled, biting her lip.
“Are you joking? Hermione, you are and always have been the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. But it wasn’t just the way you looked that got my attention,” Theo said, reaching out to tuck a curl behind her ear.
She tilted her head curiously at him, indicating he should go on, so he did. “You were brilliant– still are brilliant, of course. But I always loved watching you in classes. The way you’d practically vibrate with excitement, the way your hand would shoot up so quickly when you knew the answer– your whole face lights up when you talk about something you’re interested in, did you know that? It’s fucking magical to watch. It’s pathetic, I know, but yes, Hermione– I’ve been pining over you since we were bloody children.”
Her eyes were shining with tears, and Theo panicked for a moment, wondering if he’d said something wrong. “I’m okay, Theo– they’re happy tears, don’t worry." It was boggling to him how she seemed to know exactly how he was feeling just by looking at his face. "I don’t even know what to say,” she said, biting her lip again. “I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. So you– do you still feel that way now?”
“Merlin, Hermione, no– it’s only gotten a thousand times worse- er, stronger, since then. You’re all I ever think about. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. I’m sorry I’ve been such a coward, I don’t know why I was so afraid of this– I’ve messed up so many times with you,” Theo said, his insecurity beginning to creep back in.
“Theo. Look at me,” she demanded, and he obeyed. “You are far from a coward. And you haven’t messed anything up. I’m here right now, aren’t I?”
He drank in the reassurance in her eyes. “Yes,” he whispered. “Thank you– thank you for being patient with me. And for understanding– you planned this because you knew I’d be too nervous to say all this at the dance, didn’t you?”
Hermione blushed. “Well, partly. But it was for me, too. I was nervous as well, Theo,” she said quietly.
“Thank you, again. It’s gone so much better than I was imagining,” he let out a small laugh. “But Hermione, are you positive you want this? Do you want– I mean, you know who my father is. You know what my family has done,” Theo said, feeling the sharp pains of self-doubt.
“Hey,” she said softly, gently pulling his chin up so he would meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you this as many times as you need to hear it, but I am one hundred percent sure that I want this- that I want you. I meant what I wrote in the notebook earlier– I know who you are, Theo. Nothing about you makes me want to run away, none of it scares me. You are not your father. I’m not going anywhere.”
Hermione’s words washed over him, melting the doubt and darkness that had long held him captive, replacing them with a tender hope he hadn’t dared to feel in years. Her voice was a lifeline, pulling him closer to something he hadn’t known he craved so desperately.
“Hermione,” he breathed, unable to look away from the golden flecks in her eyes. He wasn’t going to run away this time– he knew it in his gut. “Can I kiss you?”
When she nodded, his heart ceased beating for half a second, and he leaned in, closing the distance between them. When his lips met hers, it was as if the world around them blinked out of existence. The kiss was soft, yet everything he’d been holding inside — every moment of longing, every fleeting thought of what it might feel like — surged to the surface. Her warmth flooded through him, and he felt an electric pull, like gravity was finally working in his favor.
His fingers brushed the side of her face, trembling with the weight of wanting her, of waiting for this. The taste of her was sweeter than he’d imagined, and the kiss deepened instinctively, as if his body had known what he hadn’t allowed himself to admit until now. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, just a wild, aching need to pull her closer, to be sure this was real.
Theo pulled back for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. “Fucking hell, Hermione– did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
She blushed, a soft, warm flush creeping up her neck, and with a newfound hunger in her eyes, she reached up to grab him by the collar, pulling him back towards her with a fierce determination that made his chest tighten. Their lips collided again, this time with an urgency that left no room for doubt — this was more than just a kiss. It was an answer to all the longing they’d both been holding back, a surrender and a claim all at once.
Theo’s hands found her hips, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulled her closer, feeling the heat of her body against his. His heart raced, and for a moment, the world outside of them ceased to exist. There was only the soft press of her lips, the electric charge that zipped through his veins every time she moved, every time her breath mingled with his.
She parted her lips, and he met her there eagerly, his entire being drawn to her in a way that left him dizzy. His pulse thrummed in his ears, louder than anything else, as she slid her hand up to his neck, fingers grazing the soft skin behind his ear, her fingers running through his hair. The simple touch sent a jolt of heat straight through him.
The way she kissed him—so desperate, so sure—was everything he’d been craving. It wasn’t just the intensity of the moment; it was the unspoken words between them, the things they hadn’t said but had both felt for so long.
Reluctantly, she pulled away, her lips slightly swollen, her breathing rapid. “As much as I hate to say this… we should probably go. I promised Madam Pince there’d be no funny business,” she giggled. “We can continue this later, of course, but would you– do you want to go downstairs? To the dance, I mean? If you’d rather just skip it I understand–”
“Hermione,” he said softly, standing and offering his hand. “I would be honoured to take you to the dance. I guess it’s probably time I put some of those things I learned in finishing school to the test, yeah?”
She grinned, accepting his hand as she stood. “Oh wait, I forgot!” He said, reaching down to the chair beside him. “These are for you,” he blushed, handing her the bouquet.
“These are beautiful, Theo,” she whispered, inhaling the sweet scent. “Peonies. You remembered?”
“Don’t give me too much credit, Granger– I may have remembered your favourite flower, but I forgot to give them to you. I’ve done all of this rather backwards,” he joked.
“They’re perfect. I’m so happy, Theo,” Hermione said, and he could tell she meant it. Her face was glowing in a way he’d never seen it before, and he felt the stirrings of pride that he had been the one to bring the expression to her face.
Something clouded her expression for a moment. “Are you sure it’s– are you sure you’re alright with being with me? In front of your friends– other Slytherins?”
It dawned on him then how much his housemates’ maltreatment affected her– how deeply their words must have cut. He thought of small, twelve-year-old Hermione, the way that nasty word had taken the wind out of her sails. He’d hated it then, just as he hated it now; but the difference was, Theo knew he wouldn’t stand idly by if anyone so much as sneered at Hermione.
“Gods, Hermione– are you kidding? Anyone who still carries around the notion of pureblood superiority is certainly not my friend. If you’re referring to Parkinson and Goyle– I don’t give a single shite what they think, but if they say or do anything even remotely rude, please do let me know. I would never hit a witch, but I’m not above hexing one,” Theo said firmly. His words seemed to reassure her, because she smiled and took a deep breath before walking out of the library.
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They reached the Great Hall, transformed into a winter wonderland with the long dining tables removed to leave space for a large dancefloor. She squeezed Theo’s hand, and he squeezed back, smiling nervously at her.
“Should we go find our– er, do you want to split up? Or should we find Harry and Ron and then look for–” Hermione stopped short, her eyes widening at something in front of her. “Look,” she whispered, giggling.
Theo followed her eyes and found something he’d never expected to see– Potter and Draco chatting amicably. He squinted, wondering what kind of bizarre parallel universe they’d landed in. Ginny Weasley was on Potter’s arm, and had just let out a genuine laugh at something Draco had said. Theo turned to Hermione, bewildered, and found her giving him the same expression. Cautiously, they made their way over to the group. Ginny’s face morphed into something Theo could only describe as an impish grin as she saw the pair approaching, and she nudged Harry to look.
“Hello,” Hermione said breathlessly, and Theo couldn’t help but smile at the way her face flushed.
“Well, well,” Potter said, raising an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Look who decided to join the party. Where have you two been? Up to no good?”
“It’s good to see you two finally doing something besides staring longingly at each other,” Ginny said with a smirk. “Frankly, it was getting rather nauseating for the rest of us.”
“Please, Weasley. You think you had it bad? Imagine having to tolerate those looks for years– only back then they were one-sided,” Draco joked, sighing dramatically. Theo shot him a warning glare, but suddenly found he didn’t really care who knew how he felt about Hermione now.
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Hermione said, shoving Draco’s arm before turning to beam up at Theo.
“I’m beginning to get the feeling all of that was just foreplayfor these two– now we’re going to be subjected to this all the time,” Ginny whined, gesturing to the way Hermione was hanging off his arm, Theo staring at her lovingly.
Hermione seemed to snap out her trance. “Hang on, is anyone going to explain how the hell the three of you ended up chatting it up like old friends? Is no one going to acknowledge that this is rather…”
“Unsettling?” Theo finished, flashing her a grin.
“Well, as it turns out… erm, Malfoy was my pen pal,” Potter muttered.
“Must’ve been McGonagall’s idea of a sick little joke,” Draco scoffed.
Hermione and Theo both burst out into peels of laughter. “So the two of you have been writing to each other this whole time?!” Theo asked, tears of laughter forming in his eyes.
“Apparently,” Draco mumbled. “But don’t get any ideas– not all of us were treating this whole pen pal thing like a love letter bootcamp.”
“How do you even know what a bootcamp is anyways, Malfoy?” Hermione asked curiously.
“I dunno. Reading,” he replied.
Hermione arched a brow but didn’t reply. Theo watched her turn and scan the room, taking in her surroundings and felt a swell of gratitude that she was here with him– that he was the one who got to bask in her glow all night. It felt surreal– he had never done anything like this, and he almost felt like a first-year again, clumsily navigating something brand new. Testing the waters, he curiously wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her closer. To his delight, she leaned into the contact almost instinctively, pressing herself against him with a contented little sigh. He felt an excited shiver run down his spine as he realized with a newfound awe that this was only the beginning. For a second, he could hardly believe it. She was here, with him. And she wasn’t pulling away.
For the first time, he understood that the quiet, steady pull between them wasn’t just a fleeting moment— that this was how things could be for them from now on. He could hold her hand whenever he wanted, pull her closer, lean down and kiss her, or just be near her without that feeling of hesitation. There was no more distance, no more waiting for the right moment. Hermione knew how he felt about her, and she hadn’t run away. She wanted him too– “I am one hundred percent certain that I want this,” she’d said. Theo had never felt such uninhibited joy, such an unclouded anticipation for what the future might hold, and he reveled in the feeling.
The spell was broken by Draco’s voice, as per usual. “Don’t look now, but the Gryffindor Gossip Gaggle is giving you two some rather nasty death stares.”
The group shifted their attention to the wall where Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Fay Dunbar stood, eyeing the two with unmistakable judgement. Theo felt himself tense, waiting for Hermione to pull away in front of the critical eyes of her housemates. Instead, to his surprise, she shot them a scalding look and leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek, never breaking eye contact with the girls. She completed the display with an exaggeratedly friendly wave in the girls’ direction.
“Hi ladies! Something you’d like to say?” Hermione said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. The three looked at each other in shock as they scuttled away, no doubt to spread more rumours about what they’d just seen.
Ginny let out a loud laugh. “That was brilliant, Hermione.” Potter chuckled too, nodding approvingly.
“I suppose that Gryffindor gall comes in handy sometimes after all,” Draco said, smiling despite himself.
Just then, Weasley number two sauntered over, coming to stand between Ginny and Potter. His eyes darted between the two Slytherins, narrowing even more so when he noticed Theo’s arm wrapped around Granger’s waist.
“What the sodding hell is going on over here? Do they have you three under the Imperius curse?” Weasley demanded.
“Now play nice, Ronald,” Ginny said sternly. “We’re building– what is it again?” She asked, turning to Potter.
“Inter-house unity,” Potter said, nodding matter-of-factly.
“And cultivating friendships that may have otherwise never blossomed,” Hermione deadpanned.
“Potter and I were actually just making arrangements to spend Christmas together,” Draco added, also refusing to break a smile.
Weasley’s head was jerking from person to person, his face a mixture of confusion and horror. “What the actual–”
“Quite right you are, Malfoy. I’m rather looking forward to it,” Potter said, seemingly determined to keep the elaborate joke up at the expense of his thoroughly confused friend.
Hermione finally dissolved into a fit of giggles, causing the other four to do the same. “Sorry Ron– it was just too good not to keep that one going. You should have seen your face,” she gasped through laughter.
Weasley looked like he was ready to flip a table, which Potter seemed to notice, thankfully. “Relax, mate. Turns out Malfoy here was my pen pal, if you could believe it,” he said.
Weasley’s eyes widened and he threw a glare at Draco. “Your pen pal,” he said slowly, turning back to Potter. “So what, you two write each other a couple notes and now you’re the best of friends?”
“Careful Weasley, you sound a bit jealous,” Draco smirked, apparently unable to resist the urge to poke the bear.
“Back off, Malfoy, before I–” Weasley began, his face nearly purple with rage.
“No, we’re not the best of friends, Ron,” Potter sighed. “Malfoy has something he’d like to say to you though, don’t you mate?” He asked, giving Draco a pointed look.
“Bloody hell. Do I really have to do this right here?” Draco muttered.
“Yes,” Hermione answered, raising an eyebrow.
“She’s quite bossy, isn’t she, Nott?” Draco asked, and Theo only glared in response.
“Fine, fine,” Draco sighed before turning to face Weasley. “Alright, Weasley. I suppose I owe you an apology. I’ve been… less than pleasant over the years. So I’m sorry. For all the less-than charming comments, the insults, and, well, my general tendency to act like an absolute prat. But let’s not get carried away—I’m not about to start singing your praises or anything. Just… consider this a slightly overdue truce, yeah?”
There was an awkward silence as the various members of the group exchanged looks, Draco’s words hanging in the air. Weasley looked like he was about to burst into flames, somewhere between furious, confused, and speechless.
“I– where the hell is this coming from?” He finally managed.
Draco shrugged. “Dunno. Just woke up one day and decided to stop being a prick. You should try it sometime.” Hermione shot him a look again.
Weasley was still eyeing him with overt disdain. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Malfoy. You think you can just waltz in here with a half-arsed apology and we’ll all hug and make up? You think that makes up for everything you’ve done?”
Draco smirked again. “Well, if hugs are on the table, Weasley–”
“Enough with the jokes, you tosser!” Weasley exclaimed, uncomfortably loud. Theo heard a few sharp inhales from somewhere nearby. “Maybe my friends are ready to leave all that in the past, but I’m certainly not. You think I’m going to forget how you treated my family? How you treated Hermione? You made her life a living hell for years– you let your aunt torture her–”
“That’s enough, Ron!” Hermione interrupted, her face flushed with anger. “That’s my story to tell, and it’s my choice whether or not I forgive Malfoy. Which I already did, by the way. If you can’t be pleasant, please just leave. You’re ruining this whole night,” she begged, fury still flashing in her eyes.
Theo could see her tears forming, and instinctively, he pulled her closer, planting a kiss on the side of her head– which, unfortunately, seemed to enrage the redhead even more.
“And what the hell is this, ‘Mione? Befriending them is one thing, but please don’t tell me you’ve decided to start pity-shagging Death Eaters?” Weasley said, and Theo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.
Ginny and Potter turned to Weasley in horror. “Ron!” Ginny said, eyes wide. Theo could almost feel the anger rippling off Draco to his left, but by some miracle, he managed to restrain himself.
“You need to back off, mate,” Potter said, stepping in front of Hermione protectively.
“It’s fine, Harry– I can defend myself,” Hermione said, her voice shaking with anger. “Not that it’s any of your bloody business who I shag, Ronald, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. Theo is far from a Death Eater. You’ve got about thirty seconds to take back everything you just said and apologize–”
“Okay fine, I’ll apologize to you, Hermione. But you’re barking if you think I’m going to grovel with him,” Weasley snarled, eyes flashing at Theo. “Maybe he doesn’t have the Mark like that one does,” he said, jerking his head towards Draco. “But his father does. And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Before anyone could say a word, Draco was in Weasley’s face. “You can hurl as many insults at me as you please, Weasley. I might have it coming, but Nott certainly doesn’t. You want to be angry at someone? Fine, be angry at me. But Granger was right when she said he is far from a Death Eater,” he said through gritted teeth.
Theo had the strangest feeling come over him as he listened to the group talk about him as if he wasn’t there. He appreciated what Hermione and Draco were trying to do, but he felt an eerie sense of calm settle over him as he gently pulled Draco to the side.
“It’s fine, mate. Weasley, I understand,” Theo said, fixing his eyes on Weasley’s face. “You’ve learned to hate Death Eaters, as you should. You’ve seen firsthand what they’re capable of, and you don’t want to see Hermione get hurt. I know you think you’re looking out for her, and I won’t hold your words against you. I’m sorry if my father did anything to wrong you or your loved ones, truly, I am.”
Theo felt the group's eyes glued to him, but he didn’t waver. “You think I’m proud to be related to a man like that? I never have been. I’ve hated him with every fibre of my being, for as long as I can remember. You think you hate him more? I promise you, you don’t. You can say whatever you want about me, but please never compare me to my father.”
Weasley stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He swallowed. “That’s all well and good, but it’s one thing to say all that now– where were you when your father was killing innocent people? When he was doing Voldemort’s bidding? Why didn’t you take a stand back then?”
Theo cringed at his words, but took a deep breath, grounding himself. He felt Hermione squeeze his hand, pleading with him– he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do, but he wasn’t done with this conversation. “Fair enough, Weasley– I’ll tell you where I was. I was fucking hiding in my room, at Malfoy’s house, anywhere I could to get away from him. Because funnily enough, I actually did try to ‘take a stand.’ And you know where that landed me? With a couple broken ribs and some internal bleeding. With a few Cruciatus curses thrown my way.” His voice was even, not raised in the slightest as he continued.
Theo heard Hermione whimper beside him, and he cringed internally at the pain his words were surely causing her. He couldn’t stop, though. He didn’t care about what Weasley thought, but something in him was determined to set the record straight, to prove that he was nothing like his father. Taking another deep breath, he spoke the words he’d never said aloud to soul. “And you want to know what happened to my mother when she decided to ‘take a stand’ against him? Take a wild guess, Weasley. I’ll give you a hint– the only time I see her now is when I go to visit her grave. So please. Don't mention my father and I in the same sentence, ever again.”
He felt suddenly dizzy as he finished speaking, in disbelief of what he’d just revealed, terrified to look at anyone in the room. “Hermione. Can we please–”
“Yes,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him as she began walking towards the door without a second thought. “Let’s go.”