Chapter 18
Theo
Theo had a brand new lease on life. He woke up the following morning feeling changed, somehow– like some of the weight had been suddenly lifted off his shoulders, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a surge of lightness and confidence he couldn't quite explain. It was so much more than the physical things he had done with Hermione– he felt a deep sense of closeness with her, as if they truly understood each other in a way that went beyond words, and it filled him with a euphoric sense of happiness, like he was buzzing with pure joy. Lingering under the surface was the same anxiety that she’d grow tired of him, or he would be too much for her– but that voice was quieter now. When he woke to Hermione asleep on his chest on Christmas morning– it was an indescribable feeling. Like somehow, despite everything, he had everything he’d ever wanted right in front of him. She loved him. Nothing could ever take that feeling away, he promised himself. He would do everything in his power to be the man she needed him to be, to show her how much she meant to him.
And when she opened her eyes and smiled at him, the feeling got even stronger. Gods, the way she looked at him– like he was the only thing she wanted, like he was worthy of her love. Her eyes were like dark pools of caramel– they made him feel as though he could drown in their warmth and never want to surface. Her hair was still pulled back into plaits, but quite a few curls had escaped, framing her face like a halo. She’d slept on him in nothing but a thick white jumper and her knickers, her denims discarded in a pile on the floor, and he’d never seen anything quite so beautiful as her.
“I love you,” were the first words out of her mouth when she awoke, and it left a gentle buzz of joy humming through his chest.
“I love you, too,” he replied, still unable to take his eyes off her face. “How’d you sleep?”
Hermione stretched, finally unentangling herself from him. “Amazing, actually,” she said, smiling. “What about you?”
Theo grinned back. “Best sleep I’ve had in years.” It was the truth. The things she had done to him… Gods. Theo would be thinking about it for weeks. The sight of her kneeled in front of him, her big brown eyes fixed on him as she took him into her mouth– he had to stop. He could feel himself growing hard just thinking about it.
To his mortification, Hermione seemed to notice, glancing down. “We can do that again if you want,” she said shyly, biting her lip.
His eyes widened. Of course, the thought had occurred to him, but knowing she’d be willing to do that again for him– it was overwhelming. “Merlin, Hermione. Of course I do. But I have some other priorities first.”
She looked disappointed for a moment. “Like what?”
“Like making you come,” he blurted, before he could think about it. He felt his face color. “If you want me to, that is. I need to learn how to make you feel good too, Hermione.”
Hermione smiled at him again, and it made his heart skip. “We can do that,” she said. “Maybe some breakfast first?”
“Of course,” he hurried. “Happy Christmas, by the way,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
When they arrived downstairs, Ginny and Ron were the only ones awake, save for Mrs. Weasley, who was already fluttering about the kitchen, no doubt preparing something delicious. Theo tried to pretend it wasn’t awkward between him and Ron, but he still felt the tension hanging in the air between them. When they were in a larger group of people, or when Potter was there to alleviate some of the discomfort, it was better, but this morning it was palpable. To Theo’s dismay, Ginny whisked Hermione upstairs claiming they had “things to discuss.” Of course, he should have expected this– with looping Potter in on his plans, it made sense that Ginny would demand details of what had happened the night before. It was hard to keep secrets from the woman you loved, he’d realized, so he didn’t blame Potter.
However, the girls’ disappearance forced him to sit at the kitchen table with Ron, pretending to be fascinated with his book while he sipped the large mug of coffee Hermione had handed him. Ron had a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him, but Theo could feel the redhead eyeing him with something– maybe curiosity, maybe suspicion– he wasn’t sure.
“You drink coffee?” Ron asked, breaking the silence.
“Only recently,” Theo admitted.
“Hm,” he replied. “Because of Hermione?”
“I suppose so, yes,” Theo replied, unsure if that was the answer Ron was looking for.
“That’s… nice,” Ron said lamely, and Theo gave him a strange look before turning back to his book.
Unfortunately, Ron didn’t seem to take the hint– he seemed determined to continue their awkward, stilted conversation. “You get her anything for Christmas?”
Theo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course I did. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. She likes books, you know,” Ron replied.
Now Theo knew his eyes were rolling. “You don’t say?” He couldn’t help the sarcasm in his tone, but to his surprise, Ron snorted.
“Yeah, sorry, bit daft of me to think you wouldn’t know that. So is that what you got her?”
“No,” Theo answered. He wasn’t trying to be a prat, but honestly, what was Ron looking for here?
“Why not?” Ron asked, and his face was genuinely curious.
“Because,” Theo said slowly. “That’s what everyone gets her. And she has plenty already.”
Ron looked taken aback for a moment. “But she loves them. She always says they’re the best gift she could ask for!”
Whoops, Theo thought. “She does love them,” he said quickly, not wanting to ruffle any feathers. “I just wanted to get her something different.”
“Because you’re her boyfriend,” Ron said.
“Erm, yes. Because I’m her boyfriend,” Theo echoed. Merlin, this was strange.
“So it’s quite serious between you two then?” Ron asked.
“I would say so, yes,” he replied.
“Okay,” Ron said, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to be an arse. I just want to make sure you’re serious about her– that you’re not going to hurt her. I know Hermione can take care of herself. It’s just– she’s been through a lot, you know?”
Theo didn’t fault him for being protective, despite how little he was enjoying this conversation. “I know she has. I get it, you’re looking out for her. But I can assure you, I’m quite serious about Hermione. And I have no intentions of hurting her,” he replied.
“Good,” Ron said, eyes darting around awkwardly. “That’s good. So what did you get her, then? If it’s not books?”
“A few things,” Theo said, unsure if he even wanted to share this with Ron. “I gave her a locket that belonged to my mother,” he mumbled. “Before she died.”
“Oh,” Ron said, looking both taken aback and uncomfortable. “That’s– you must really care for her then. Hermione, I mean.”
“I do,” Theo said earnestly.
“I’m sorry again, mate. About everything I said at the dance– I feel bloody awful about it,” Ron said, his face pained.
“It’s alright. I don’t hold it against you, honestly,” Theo said.
“I had no idea. I shouldn’t have assumed I knew everything about you, just because of who your father is. But y’know, I always saw you around with Malfoy. I figured you had to have some things in common,” Ron said.
“Draco and I grew up together,” Theo explained. “We were raised in the same circle, but also differently in some ways. I had my mother, at least for a few years. She taught me not to believe in all that Pureblood superiority bullshit, even though my father was determined to shove it down my throat. Draco never had anyone to teach him otherwise– well, besides me, I guess.”
“So you two didn’t agree about everything?” Ron asked.
Theo shook his head. “Definitely not. We’ve gotten into plenty of arguments. Especially about the way he treated Hermione,” he said quietly– something he hadn’t even admitted to her.
Ron’s eyes widened. “Really? I guess I can’t remember you ever participating in it, but I didn’t know you actually had a problem with it.”
“I know. I wish I could’ve been less of a coward and actually done something to stop it. But trust me, we had plenty of rows when she wasn’t around,” Theo said, feeling suddenly embarrassed about the can of worms he’d just opened up.
“But why Hermione? Why were you so eager to defend her against your best mate?” Ron asked, looking confused.
Theo sighed. “Um. I had feelings for her. Fucking creepy, I know– she says it’s sweet but I dunno. But even if I hadn’t fancied her, I still would’ve given him a hard time. He was a prick, even though he was my friend. He’s come a long way– honestly.”
Ron was looking at him in astonishment. “Damn, Nott. I bet Hermione loves that though– it’s rather romantic,” he said the last word with a dramatic sigh. "I dunno about Malfoy though. I'll believe he's changed when I see it," he grumbled.
"Maybe just give him a chance. He's not a complete tosser," Theo said.
"Is that right? Name a time when he wasn't at least a little bit of a tosser- I'm all ears," Ron said, but his tone was lighthearted.
Theo sighed. "I dunno. He likes to play it up when he's around you lot, for some reason. But honestly, he's probably the main reason I survived my father. He was the only one who knew how bad he was, and he always looked out for me."
Ron paused to contemplate. "I suppose that makes him at least somewhat decent. I'm still not shaking his hand, or having a pint with him. Don't get any ideas."
"I have zero ideas about you and Malfoy shaking hands and having a pint together, I can assure you," Theo said.
The two girls reappeared just then, Hermione’s cheeks slightly flushed and Ginny with a devilish smile on her face.
“Hi,” Hermione said shyly.
She was wearing an oversized “Oxford” sweatshirt and something she’d told Theo was called “leggings.” Her hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head, still messy from the night before, and he could see her necklace hanging around her neck. She looked fucking gorgeous. He was overcome with the desire to touch her, to pull her close and breathe her in. Caught up in the feeling, he pulled her onto his lap, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi,” he replied, and he felt her giggle and then sigh against him. Ron looked slightly mortified, and Ginny looked downright gleeful. The rest of the Weasleys and Harry began to filter out of their bedrooms, Bill joined by his wife, Fleur, who must have arrived sometime last night.
Despite being here for over a week, Theo still found himself fascinated by the Weasleys' dynamics– the ease in which they interacted, how they gently poked fun at each other and gave physical affection freely. Even when his mother was alive, Theo recalled their Christmases being a quiet affair, the two of them celebrating on their own, away from his father. And after she passed away, the celebrating had ceased altogether. After he started at Hogwarts, he’d either spend Christmas there or at Malfoy Manor– anywhere besides at his own home. Never in Theo’s eighteen years of life had he experienced anything even close to a Weasley Christmas. It was everything they were– noisy, disorganized, messy, warm, cozy, and loving. The joy was infectious, and Theo was more than content to sit back and watch the chaos unfold.
He was surprisingly touched by the jumper Mrs. Weasley had knitted him– a Slytherin green with a silver T on it. The Weasleys also got him a few new quills and ink pots, which was more than he’d expected. Potter gifted him his old broom, apparently noticing that Theo had taken an interest in flying lately. “I know you can probably just buy one yourself,” he’d said. “But in the meantime, you can use this one.” Ironically, two of Hermione’s gifts to him were books– both of which she gave him in private. One was a Gardening for Beginners book, and she’d stuck post-it notes on all the pages that included flowers that had grown in his mother’s garden. The other one was a beautiful, first-edition Winnie the Pooh book– the book his mother read him as a child. She’d also framed a photo that Ginny had taken– a candid of him and Hermione reading together on the sofa. When the photo moved, it showed her eyes drifting up to him and smiling at him as he read, oblivious to her stare. "To remind you how I feel about you, whenever you're having any doubts," she'd told him when he opened it.
Hermione was delighted with all of Theo’s gifts to her, in particular, the notebooks he had charmed to allow them to communicate when they weren’t together, just as they had as pen pals. On the inside, he’d written “For My Wildcard.”
It was the best Christmas Theo had ever had, undoubtedly. He couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than what he had now. He tried to picture what would have happened if he hadn’t accepted Ron’s invitation to join his family for Christmas– how different things would be. He felt permanently altered by his time here, and couldn’t help but feel an immense gratitude to the Weasleys for welcoming him into their home so readily, for embracing him with open arms.
Theo had gone back and forth a hundred times over what to get Mrs. Weasley, but after lots of contemplation, he’d settled on a handwritten letter and a beautiful, Gryffindor-red shawl. He’d felt incredibly awkward handing her the letter, and when she’d asked if he wanted her to read it in private he’d replied “if you don’t mind,” his eyes pleading. When she returned from the back room after reading it, he could see tears shining in her eyes as she pecked him on the cheek. “He’s a good one, Hermione,” she’d said. “You hold onto him.”
“I plan to,” Hermione had replied, smiling up at Theo.
---------------------
As Hermione tip-toed into his bedroom door that night, the room was illuminated by the full moon, which was reflecting off the snow that had fallen throughout the last two days. She wore silky black pyjamas, her hair pulled back into a plait. He watched her make her way over to the bed with bated breath– he was nervous, more so than usual. They hadn’t had a moment alone since that morning, and Theo didn’t know what to expect. But he knew he wanted to touch her. He knew he wanted to make her feel good– something she had done for him. Hermione had seemed to sense the tension that radiated off him every time she wanted to go farther than just kissing– she seemed to understand how hard it was for him to let go, to get out of his own head. So she’d demanded he give up control, just for a little while– and Gods it had been incredible. And she was right– something in him had loosened afterwards, and he’d found he wasn’t so bloody terrified to touch her. Terrified of fucking things up. He was still nervous as hell, of course, but tonight, as she crawled under the covers and pressed herself against him, panic wasn’t the first thing that seized his mind– it was desire. Hunger.
Instead of waiting for her to initiate, Theo leaned in to kiss her, curiously at first, but then it built into something more intense. He felt himself burning for her, in a way that went beyond lust. He wanted to know every single inch of her body, every corner of her mind. He’d been holding back for so long– waiting for permission, waiting for his confidence to build enough to touch her without reservation. But Hermione had told him she loved him last night, and then she’d gotten on her knees and put her perfect mouth all over him, an image he knew would be replaying in his brain for a very, very long time. “Girlfriend” felt like such a juvenile word for the way he felt about her– the term didn't encapsulate that he was bound to her, body and soul, that he would fucking die for her– that the depth of his feelings for her were so intense, so engraved in his bones, that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d never feel this way about anyone else. He had waited for her for over six years, and now she was here in front of him, staring up at him with those warm, honey-brown eyes full of such open, unguarded love that it made his breath catch in his throat from the intensity of it.
“I’m so in love with you, Hermione,” he said against her lips, his hands slipping under her shirt to caress her hips. He felt her moan into his mouth, and it sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.
“I love you,” he continued, running his hands up her ribcage, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts. “I would do anything for you. Do you understand that?” He didn’t know what was making him feel so emboldened– he never would have imagined he’d be capable of dirty talk– or whatever this was, but the way her body seemed to respond to his words kept him going.
She nodded and let out a small whimper as one of his hands closed around her breast, his thumb making small circles on her nipple, feeling it harden against his fingers. He used the other hand to reach down and cup her ass, causing her to hook her leg around him. “I am yours, Hermione. I’ll be yours for as long as you want me.”
“Theo,” she moaned, pressing herself closer to him as her tongue flicked into his mouth. She tried to reach for his cock, hardened against her, but he stopped her.
“Hermione,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”
She nodded eagerly, and he slipped his hand into her waistband, realizing with pleasant surprise that she wasn’t wearing knickers. His fingers grazed between her legs, and he groaned when he felt how fucking soft her skin was down there. “Just tell me what feels good, please,” he begged as he tentatively moved his fingers against her, testing. Merlin, she was wet.
He heard her breath hitch. “Keep doing that,” she whispered, and her eyes were shut as she leaned against the pillow.
“Look at me, Hermione,” he said for some reason, craving the reassurance in her eyes that he was making her feel good, that she wanted him. She did– and he was mesmerized. Encouraged, he slowly dipped a finger into her, and her eyes darkened as she let out a moan. “Do you like that?” He asked, because he wanted to know– but it came out sounding rather self-assured and lusty. He didn’t mind.
“Yes,” she breathed. “More.”
He added a second finger, slowly moving in and out of her. “A little faster,” she panted, and he quickly adjusted his speed. “Use your thumb to touch me right here,” she said, reaching down and adjusting him onto what he realized was her clit.
He continued his rhythm, his eyes trained on her face. He reveled in every gasp, every twitch of her jaw, everything that flickered across her face. It overwhelmed him to the fullest extent that he was capable of making her feel good, that he was the one who got to touch her like this. Theo wanted to fucking worship her. “Gods, Hermione, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear, only breaking eye contact to kiss her neck, letting his teeth graze her skin. Hermione gasped and he felt her clench around his fingers.
“Don’t stop–Theo, I’m almost there,” she panted. I wouldn’t dream of it, he thought.
And then Theo had the privilege of watching Hermione Granger come. For him. Her lips parted, her chest rising and falling as her head fell back against the pillow, but he used his other hand to cup her face, keeping her eyes on him. Her eyes were on fire, her cheeks flushed– she was exquisite. Otherworldly. And then, as she came, she moaned “I love you, Theo,” between breaths. He nearly came in his joggers because Merlin, she was everything. When he finally felt her relax, he pulled away, and for some reason– maybe something primal, he brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted them. She watched him, eyes wide.
“You’re incredible, Hermione. You taste incredible,” he said, his voice rough. “Will you let me use my mouth next time?”
She giggled as she snuggled up against him. “You really want to?”
Theo pulled back and looked at her solemnly. “Hermione. You have no idea how much I want to.”
Hermione giggled again, and he frowned slightly. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry! I’m just feeling giggly. Because I'm happy, I think,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “That was amazing, you know.”
The praise made Theo’s chest feel warm. “You liked it?”
“I loved it. And I love you,” she beamed at him. “Can I– do you need me to return the favour?”
“No,” he answered honestly. “Do you know how lucky I feel that I get to do this? It’s all I could ask for– making you feel good.”
Hermione leaned over and kissed him, her lips soft against his. “I think I need to write McGonagall a personal thank-you for that pen pal program,” she said, smiling.
“I think I need to send her a gift basket. Or several. Maybe a check,” Theo mused. “What’s the going rate to thank someone for dropping the girl of your dreams practically into your lap?”
Hermione laughed. “She didn’t drop me into your lap. She just put me in front of you– you got me into your lap all on your own.”
He couldn't resist the opportunity to literally pull her into his lap. She laughed.
“Are things going to change? When we get back to school, I mean?” Theo asked, his brow furrowing.
“Between us, you mean?” Hermione asked, and he nodded. “I mean, only in the sense that we won’t be able to lay about together all day. And we’ll have to be extra sneaky when we climb into each other’s beds,” she replied, still smiling.
“You don’t think you’ll feel differently? About me– or us?” Theo asked, his eyes shifting downwards. He was irritated at himself for needing so much reassurance all the time, but he couldn’t help it– he was still getting used to the fact that Hermione could possibly want him in the same way he wanted her. It was almost unfathomable.
“It’s okay,” she reassured, bringing his face back up to look at her. “I meant it when I said I’d tell you as many times as you needed to hear it. I’m in love with you, and nothing is going to change that. Not being back at school, not the things other people might say, not who your father is– nothing. Okay?”
Theo nodded, feeling incredibly grateful for her patience with him. With the way she never made him feel like he was too needy, too insecure. “Thank you. I know I ask those questions too much,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m working on it. And for the record, I’m sure you already know– but I feel the same way. Nothing could change my mind about you, either. I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
The rest of their time at the Burrow seemed to pass in a blur. Theo tried to hold onto as many memories, however small, as he could. He wasn’t sure when he would be back– if he’d ever be back, but his time with the Weasleys had filled some kind of void in him– had made him feel more human somehow, more alive. He dreaded saying goodbye to Mrs. Weasley in particular, already grieving the maternal love she had bestowed on him over the last two weeks.
But as they prepared to board the train, Mrs. Weasley pulled him aside. “Theo, I hope you know I meant what I said earlier– my home is your home, anytime you need it. I know I could never replace your mum, but I know when I see someone who needs to be mothered. I expect to see you for Easter holiday, and I also expect you to write me – understood?”
Theo nodded, overcome with her words. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. For everything,” he said genuinely, and she pulled him in for a tight hug.
“For the hundredth time dear, please call me Molly. I’ll see you in a few months,” she said.
-----------------
It was a bizarre feeling, waking up in his dormitory again. Theo had missed the feeling of Hermione sleeping next to him, the comfort of her steady breathing, of her limbs tangled up with his, waking up to the smell of her perfume. He rolled over and smiled when he saw his notebook was already glowing with a message from her where it sat on his bedside table.
Good morning. I miss you. I want to see you.
Not even bothering to sit up, he reached for his quill and scribbled a message back.
Good morning. I miss you too. I didn’t sleep as well without you. Meet you outside the Great Hall?
After washing up and dressing in his uniform, Theo exited his dorm and found Draco waiting for him in the common room.
“Oh, hello darling. Remember me? He asked as he fell into step with Theo.
“Hello, Draco,” Theo said, rolling his eyes.
“How was your holiday then? You’re look to be in one piece– I suppose that means the Weasels didn’t eat you alive?”
Theo shoved an elbow into Draco’s ribs. “Sod off. It was… nice, actually,” he said hesitantly. “How was yours?”
“Excruciating. I’m still cross with you for ditching me for the Weasel clan,” Draco said. “What was so nice about it? Besides shagging Granger, obviously.”
“Watch it, tosser. That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about. But I dunno. It was just different– they’re so different from any other family I know,” Theo said, contemplating precisely how to describe his holiday with the Weasleys.
“Girlfriend?” Draco said, raising his eyebrows. Theo shot him a look, daring him to utter another word about it. “We’ll circle back to that. But yes, Theodore, I could have told you that myself– although I probably wouldn’t have phrased it so diplomatically.”
“It’s difficult to explain. I’m not mates with Ron or anything–”
“I’m sorry– Ron? What happened to Weasel? Or Weasley, even?” Draco looked deeply troubled.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, calm down. It’s not a crime to call people by their first names. And it’s only because there’s too many Weasleys to bloody keep track of– I had to differentiate somehow,” Theo replied. “But anyways, as I was saying– I’m not mates with Ron or anything, but his mum was good to me. Sort of adopted me, or something,” he said, feeling his face redden.
Draco’s brows raised, and Theo could see him poised to say something insulting, but he seemed to reconsider. “Oh. That’s– erm, that’s nice of her?”
Just then, they reached the Great Hall and he saw Hermione sitting outside, book in hand, as always. She jumped up when she saw him, almost jumping into his arms. It caught Theo off guard, but he grinned as he caught her, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi,” she giggled.
“Hi yourself,” he said, smiling down at her.
Draco was watching them with a disturbed expression on his face. “For Merlin’s sake, you two. This is going to take some getting used to.”
Hermione’s cheeks were pink as she turned to Draco. “Hello, Malfoy,” she said. “How was your holiday?”
“Apparently not as good as yours,” Draco replied, his face still uneasy.
As they entered the Great Hall, Theo realized with a lurch of his stomach that they hadn’t even discussed how this was going to work. Would they say goodbye and then go sit at their house tables? He didn’t want to– he wanted to sit with Hermione, but he wasn’t about to drag her to the Slytherin table and subject her to the nastiness that she would no doubt receive from the likes of Parkinson and Goyle. He turned to her, poised to ask what she thought they should do, but she reached for his hand and smiled.
“Sit with me at my table?” Hermione asked, biting her lip. He could tell she was feeling a bit anxious as well.
How could he say no to that? “Okay,” he replied, scanning the Gryffindor table nervously.
Hermione hesitated. “Erm, Malfoy– you could join us if you’d like?”
“I’m touched, Granger,” Draco said dryly. “As tempting as that is, I got my fill of awkward tension back at Malfoy Manor. Enjoy, though,” he said as he made a beeline for the Slytherin table.
“Brilliant,” Hermione muttered as they approached the bench. Harry, Ron, and Ginny waved, Ginny shooting Hermione a wide eyed-look.
Theo could feel the eyes on him as he took a seat next to Hermione. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, realizing it was more than just the Gryffindors looking– he was pretty sure there were people from every house staring. He looked at Hermione just in time to see her shoot a glare at Parvati and Lavender, who were pointing and whispering.
Finally, Potter broke the silence. “Don’t worry about them, mate,” he said, giving Theo a friendly nod. “Give it a day or so, and they’ll move onto another trivial piece of gossip.”
“I hope so,” Theo muttered. “Because this is bloody awkward. I feel like a fucking pariah.”
“Funny you say that. Pansy is looking at you like you just performed an Unforgivable,” Ginny said, barely hiding her giggle.
Theo shot her a look. “Pansy can go kick rocks. I couldn’t care less what that bint thinks,” he said, his tone venomous.
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Nott.”
Hermione cut in. “As long as you don’t call me a Mudblood, you should be alright,” she said flatly.
Theo heard someone near him gasp. “Really, Hermione?” He groaned.
“It’s true!” She laughed. To Theo’s annoyance, Ginny joined her. “Honestly though, just try to let it roll off your shoulders. People are going to talk, and then they’ll get over it. Frankly, I don’t care what anyone thinks besides the three of you,” she paused. “And four, if you count Ronald. Which I only do occasionally.”
“Bold of you to assume Ron can count,” Ginny said.
Theo and Potter both snorted, breaking the tension a bit. Ron glowered at the two girls as they dissolved into giggles. Fuck, Theo thought. This was going to be an interesting term.