Chapter 15
“She’s lost the plot,” Draco said as soon as he was sure Hermione wouldn’t hear him. “She’s well and truly lost it, Tee, and I am not signing up for the wrath of the Dark Lord going through puberty a second time. I don’t want him here and I’m not sure we want her here either.”
Theo sighed hard and sat back on the couch, stretching out long legs to graze the hearth stone in front of the fire. He just shook his head. “Don’t say that. I know it sounds stupid and scary and its probably a bad sign more than a good one, but Hermione was kind of right, Drake. I’ve spent a month with that man in my house. He was a little cold at first, and he didn’t really understand a lot of normal social norms - which I thought was because he was Bulgarian, but actually it’s because his last memories of hanging out with people was ordering them to do hits on Muggle families - but then he started to relax. He can be weirdly funny and thoughtful. Before we came here, he actually picked out books from the library he thought Hermione would like. Which looking back on it now, is incredibly suspicious and probably more about teaching her more Dark magic than anything else.”
Draco let out a huff. “This is exactly what I am talking about! Do you understand how absolutely barmy this is? She thinks she’s going to change the world, fix all the problems, get rid of the Death Eaters, trick Dumbledore, and somehow keep a 16-year-old ticking time-bomb from blowing up in our faces? All while she’s taking her OWLs? She's on the Dark Lord's side as a blood Mudblood, she's going to- what? Stand against Potter? Fright a war for Voldemort?"
Theo got up and made his way to where Draco was pacing. Long, slender fingers were tangled in platinum locks, so Theo pulled them away and smoothed Draco’s hair away from his face. His warm hands cupped Draco’s jaw when he was done, and green eyes met grey. Theo’s thumb grazed down Draco’s cheek, pressing just enough that Draco felt it. That his soft, barely-there stubble was scratching at the pad of Theo’s thumb.
It was just the right side of intimate, a reminder that Theo was on Draco’s side as much as he was on Hermione’s. Draco needed those reminders sometimes. Theo had always been a little too open with his heart and his head, and it used to scare Draco. It still did, just a little bit. Theo was sure of himself, and Draco was anything but. Theo loved Hermione openly in the last year, and he’d loved Draco openly their whole lives, but they had never been in a position where Theo had to choose between his first love and his newest one. The thought that he might choose Hermione over Draco… It was even more intimidating with Tom Riddle two doors down, and with Hermione firmly in Draco’s bad books at that moment.
“Hey. Talk to me.”
Theo was warm, both his tone and his hands, and Draco felt it melting the icy feeling all over Draco’s body.
“I’m angry at her,” Draco admitted. “I’m so gods-damned angry. She did something dangerous, and she was tortured that night. I know you said he’s been fine all summer, someone you could be friends with. But I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for what he did before in the first war, and what he did to her, and I don’t know if I can forgive Hermione for putting him in our lives. I don’t know if I can see it from your side or her side or whatever.”
Theo hummed, low and painful, but never judgmental. After a minute, he nodded and chewed a piece of dry skin off his lip. “My dad… Thoros. He didn’t seem to mind an audience over the summer. I know it isn’t the same as being there, but you need to know. The first few times, there was this look in his eyes. Toma. Like he was enjoying watching me hurt, or like he wanted to join in. And I used to think I was seeing things. Making something out of this stranger in my house watching me writhe around on the ground because of that damn cruciatus. But this one day, he looked… unhappy. Like watching me was sad all of a sudden. So I ride it out, I come to, Thoros is long gone and Toma is nowhere to be found. I took a shower like usual, cleaned myself up, and there was this cup of tea on my desk when I got out to my room.”
Draco sucked in a breath, and Theo let out a half-chuckle.
“I know. But he’d made me tea. We started talking a bit about that then, about what it was like. Toma told me he was an orphan before he was adopted, and we know that was just a story and probably not true at all. The adoption part was all wrong, but the half-blood part I guess was right. Maybe he was an orphan, I don’t know. But he told me he’d forgotten what it was like to be hurt by the other kids he knew when he was little. He said that sometimes, when people used to hurt him, he wanted to hurt them. But watching someone he cared about - don’t get jealous, Drake, it was just two mates having a talk - he didn’t think that hurting people back was very effective in asserting power.”
“What did he conclude was?” Draco asked, just barely sarcastic. The shimmer of his younger self, cocky and arrogant and so, so sarcastic, coming through.
“Changing their minds,” Theo said. “I swear I thought I’d gone barmy when I went to breakfast the next morning and Toma remarks, cool as anything, how he was surprised Thoros was willing to risk the mind of his only heir for a few minutes of entertainment. I almost called you to take me to Mungo’s when Thoros agreed.”
Draco let out a startled laugh and then looked a little ashamed. Theo just smiled at him, wide and honest and his eyes adoring, and Draco let his eyes drift to Theo’s lips for a split-second. Theo’s superpower had always been his ability to take things lightly. His father’s abuse and mistreatment, his houseguest turning out to be the most dangerous man in the wizarding world, it was all easy for Theo to turn into a laugh. It was easy for Theo to make a joke of it, to make things palatable. Draco had never been so thankful for Theo, nor so jealous. How he ached to not feel the world on his shoulders when something went wrong.
“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying you need to ever forgive him. You never have to talk to him again, I could send him back to the Estate. But I am saying that I think Hermione was right. I think we all have a chance to make this world work for us, for all of us. And we can do it without any of the violence from before. It’s just going to take a little bit of work, and a lot of teaching, and open minds. We can’t change this situation. He’d back and that’s the end of that conversation. Whether she was right or wrong, we’re not going to change it now.”
Draco huffed, the remaining tension in his shoulder dropping away as he did so. He knew Theo was right - what was done was done. They couldn’t change things now, they could only move forward and do what they could to make this something real, something beneficial. Something less ‘second-coming-of-the-devil’ and more ‘opening-doors-to-political-power’.
“You missed my birthday,” Draco whispered, changing the subject entirely. He knew he needed to get over his anger, but it wasn’t going to happen instantly. He would forgive Hermione in time, he would take his place in this new government-to-be, and he would play his part with Hermione and Theo at his sides. But he needed time. He needed to sleep, to eat dinner, to take a long, hot shower and grieve for just a moment that Hermione had effectively taken the rest of his teenage years from him. All of that had to happen, but for now, it was safer to move onto something safer, something more stable.
“I know,” Theo said. “I hope I didn’t ruin your plans to sign a formal agreement with my absence.”
Draco smiled. “I think you and I need to have a pretty serious conversation before that,” he said. “And we need to talk to Mya.”
“Do you think she’ll really refuse us?” Theo asked, cocking his head in confusion. It would have been funny if it weren’t so stereotypically Theo to be confused how a witch or wizard couldn’t love him.
“I think it’s rare in Muggle communities to see relationships of three or more, and you and I both know multiple families who had multiple partners,” Draco said. “And she’s going to have to get used to the idea. And we don’t even know if she’ll want to be a part of our agreement.”
“How could she refuse us?” Theo leered at Draco with a heated smile, and Draco felt a blush coming up his neck. Typical, self-assured Theo.
“You’re not so irresistible,” he argued half-heartedly.
“Is that so?”
“I resist you just fine.” Draco’s voice was almost breathless then, soft and weak in the best way.
“Really?” Theo asked. “How about now?”
And then his lips were on Draco’s. They slipped together easily, naturally, like they were always made to be pressed against one another. It was deep and hard, but still chaste. Their lips never parted, never made room for curious tongues. They were just warm, moving against one another, and passionate.
It wasn’t strictly acceptable to share that moment before an agreement, before everyone knew what was happening. And it was unfair to Hermione, to share this intimacy when she didn’t even know they were considering a relationship that would include her as well.
But neither of the boys stepped away from the other. They had waited for years to do this, and Theo was warm against Draco’s cold, and their magic called to one another. The scent of rain and cinnamon was heavy, heady in the air all around them.
It wasn’t strictly appropriate, but it was what Draco needed. He needed the reassurance that Theo wanted him, that one thing in his life had not changed today, that he was still newly 15 and about to discuss formal arrangements for his match, and he still had this. He had Theodore, pressed into his space, and hands on his chest, and heat burning through his stomach.
They only broke apart when they heard the door click open and slam closed again, and they startled. Draco moved before Theo could, wrenching open the door and catching Hermione’s braid disappearing into her room before that door slammed, too. He rushed down the hall, footsteps almost thunderous on the hardwood and he knocked. There was no answer, and he knocked harder, faster. His knocking became insistent, verging on frantic, and then Theo pulled his hands away. It was only when he’d stopped knocking that Draco smelled Hermione’s saltwater magic and he slammed his fist against the wall.
She’d warded the door, and he wasn’t going to invade her space if she’d been desperate for it enough to magic him out.
~~~
Hermione,
So much has happened. Dementors were in Little Whinging, and I had to use a Patronus to keep myself and my cousin safe. The Ministry tried to expel me, but Dumbledore arranged for me to have a hearing so I can tell my side of the story.
He’s officially reconvened the Order of the Phoenix, a group that he first created in the first wizarding war. My parents were a part of it, and the Weasleys and the Longbottoms. I’m going to spend the rest of the summer with them at the Order’s safehouse. Its the only place safe from Death Eaters right now.
Ron and I want you to come and visit soon. You’ll know the place - Padfoot owns it. We can have Arthur and Molly come collect you if you need.
All my love,
Harry
~~~
“Where’s Hermione?” Draco asked. He hadn’t seen her since she’d interrupted that kiss nearly three days ago, and he was worried. He and Theo owed her an explanation and a long conversation, but no matter what they did or said outside her door, her wards remained strong. Not even Tom had been able to get in, not that they thought he would, but Hermione had disregarded the pleas of both Draco and Theo, and the orders from the Dark Lord himself.
And that, too, had gotten strangely easy in the few days since Hermione’s self-imposed isolation. Tom - Toma, as he kept reminding Theo and Draco - was strangely endearing himself to Draco. He often joined them all for breakfast, and Theo had been right. He was funny and thoughtful, even when he was cold and calculating. Moments that reminded Draco this was the Dark Lord were rivaled by moments that reminded him that Toma was his 16-year-old self and a boy just like that. It had certainly eased the anger Draco felt about Hermione’s decision - that coupled with the loneliness he felt at her absence, making it much easier to forgive her if she’d only show her face - but he hadn’t had the chance to tell her yet.
“In her room, I suspect,” Toma said, throwing Draco a look. So today was a snarky, teasing day. “Same as the last few mornings, no?”
“Actually,” Narcissa said, giving Toma a look across the table. She and Lucius had been kind enough to host Toma without much fuss, even with the obvious tension between Draco and Toma. They were more concerned with what Draco and Theo had done that made Hermione lock herself away for days on end. Neither Draco or Theo had discussed it yet, both other them more than a little ashamed to admit they’d gotten carried away with one another. And they’d agreed they would only breach the subject with Draco’s parents if they’d had an opportunity to speak with Hermione first. “Hermione left the Manor early this morning, before breakfast. She’s spending some time with her other friends this week.”
“Hermione’s left?” Theo asked, worried eyes flicking between Narcissa and Draco.
“Whatever the two of you have done,” Lucius said. “You can fix it when she returns next week.”
Draco and Theo were both pink in the face, wearing matching, worried expressions, and Toma gave them a mischievous smile. “You two chased her off?”
Theo’s eyes flashed with something not quite warning, but unhappy. “We didn’t chase her anywhere.”
“Not what she said,” Toma taunted. It was strangely childish, and Draco had to take a moment just to remind himself that he was sitting there with a teen he considered a friend. A teen who was actually the Dark Lord. Sitting here teasing his… teasing Theo.
“You talked to her?” Theo asked, sitting up straighter.
Toma smiled wide. “She checked in before she left. What, didn’t she give you two a proper goodbye?”
“You shut your mouth,” Theo warned, throwing his finger across the table to point in Toma’s face.
“If anyone should be shutting their mouths-” Toma started.
“Don’t,” Theo warned, and Draco sat up himself and looked across the table.
“Shut up,” he said without thinking, and Toma’s smile got even wider.
“-It should be you two. Sucking face and scaring Hermione off before you even tell her what a formal match is,” he finished self-satisfied and smug. Both Theo and Draco were nearly out of their seats, angry and completely unthinking that this man was not some teenager to fight, it was actually Voldemort. It was easy to forget when he was teasing, when he was smiling like it was all a big joke. And when Theo and Draco were equal parts embarrassed and ashamed, already hearing the lecture from Lucius and Narcissa on being inappropriate.
Lucius just cleared his throat. “Boys.”
Draco and Theo both dropped back into their seats, glaring at Toma across the table. He just smiled back. Narcissa’s hand found Lucius’s shoulder and she smiled at the boys. “Toma, go up to your room, please. I believe we need to speak with the boys.”
Toma excused himself carefully, putting his napkin onto the table beside his plate and walking out of the room. Draco and Theo didn’t know if it was more or less awkward without Toma in the room, but they certainly knew the sound of Lucius clearing his throat made the room more uncomfortable than awkward.
“You both know better,” Lucius said, leveling the boys with a stare. “Draco, you’ve only just turned 15. You’re incredibly young to enter an agreement, and you aren’t to be engaging in that kind of behavior a moment before.”
Narcissa cleared her own throat, cutting Lucius’s lecture short. He turned to her, and smiled indulgently, but Narcissa only raised an eyebrow at him.
“You and I entered an agreement the night of my 15th birthday,” she reminded him. “And the only reason we did not marry on the night of my 17th birthday is because I was still at Hogwarts and you were in Germany working on expanding the company. But the moment we were on English soil permanently and together, you and I got married.”
“Yes, love,” Lucius said. “But-”
“And,” Narcissa added, cutting him off again. “If I remember correctly, you kissed me during the Yule celebrations before my 15th birthday. And we consummated our bond before we were married, Lucius.”
Lucius’s face went bright red, as did both of the boys’ and Narcissa smirked smugly. “So really. I think tonight’s conversation should be about what the boys want from an arrangement and not about your opinions on it, given that you were a young man once, too. You and I have both known for some time that Draco’s future would be at Theodore’s side, best not to pretend now.”
Lucius stared at his wife, a silent conversation passing between them with only subtle muscle movements giving away they were engaging in more than just a staring contest. Finally Lucius seemed to deflate, and he put his face in his hands, and he took a deep breath. When he looked back up, his face was serious, but non-judgmental, and he looked across the table to the boys.
“Well then. An agreement. Are the both of you amiable to such a match?”
Draco and Theo exchanged looks with one another and Draco couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that stretched across his face. Theo, on the other hand, was smiling like the cat who got the cream and wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide it. His hand found Draco’s under the table and he squeezed.
“We are,” Draco said. “But we can’t sign one yet.”
“Oh?” Lucius said. “Seems to me you are both rather eager.”
“We’d like to explore an agreement with Hermione,” Theo added, entirely too excited for a conversation about matches over the breakfast table, and he leaned forward on his elbows. “We still need to speak with her about it.”
Narcissa nodded, thinking. “Did she happen to see the two of you kiss the other night?”
“We think so,” Draco admitted, his smile faltering. “I’ve done some research on the matter and apparently, it’s rather frowned upon in Muggle culture to have multiple partners even within a faithful relationship. I don’t think she understands that in Pureblood families, it’s rather common for people to take multiple partners.”
“So we need to broach the topic with her,” Theo said. “And explain to her this is not only acceptable, but somewhat normal.”
“And we don’t even know if she would be interested,” Draco finished. “She might not like us in that way.”
Lucius couldn’t help the scoff he let out, and Narcissa smacked his arm before giving the boys her own laugh at the idea, softer than her husband’s. “That girl is quite smitten with the both of you,” she assured them. “A woman knows. But if these kinds of things are frowned upon in the Muggle world, I can imagine she’s feeling poorly about the situation.”
“All challenges we can remedy with an honest conversation,” Lucius said, waving his hand in the air. “Let’s assume for the moment she is not only amiable to the idea of an agreement, she is rather overjoyed to be engaged in a relationship with the both of you. How long would you two like to see the first stage of an agreement last?”
Draco didn’t look at Theo, just at his father with a hard expression and a very real confidence. “One year.”
Lucius’s eyebrows twitched up. “A year then. And the engagement part of an agreement?” He took a sip from his tea.
“One year.”
Lucius’s eyebrows shot up, and he snorted the tea right into his nose, spluttering and coughing as he did so. Narcissa patted him on the back, handed him a napkin, and gave her son a withering look. “You’d like to be a husband at 17, Draco? Just two years to establish your relationship and bond?”
Draco nodded hard. “You’ve said it yourself, Theo and I have known each other for a very long time. We get along, and we are attracted to one another.” He pointedly ignored the blush creeping up his face. “I’d like to be married to him as soon as is proper. Of course, I am open to pushing that timeline out if Hermione or Theo feel particularly strongly about it, but my mind isn’t going to change.”
Narcissa pursed her lips. “Theodore?”
“Oh, Cissa, you know me,” he said, uncharacteristically shy. His eyes were glued to the table, a blush creeping up his neck. “I’d do anything for this wizard. And relationships are always hard work and dedication, I don’t see why we can’t do that with rings on our fingers. If Draco wants to get married in two years time, as is traditional, we’ll do that.”
Narcissa and Lucius examined the boys in front of them, and Narcissa sighed. “It’s not conventional anymore,” she said, trailing off. She was right - it wasn’t conventional anymore. The last witch she’d known who had gotten married after just two years was Bella, and that had been a mistake. Then again, her arrangement was predicated on their parents’ making a match for her, not on her own volition or attraction to Rodolphus. Narcissa had wanted to follow in Bella’s footsteps with a short engagement of her own, but external factors had forced her and Lucius to wait. And Andromeda had pushed out her marriage the longest, having been the only of the Black girls to pursue a relationship outside the confines of an agreement. Even in Narcissa’s day, most of her peers had sought to avoid a quick agreement and wedding at 17.
But if Draco was set on it, Narcissa didn’t see the same dangers for Theo and Draco as she did in Bella and Rodolphus all those years ago. The boys already loved one another. They weren’t being arranged together out of family ambition. They were being arranged for love.
Love didn’t change when you were willing to work for it. Theo had already shown he would work for Draco. And Draco had shown his own dedication to Theodore.
“Most people our age were trying to escape the traditional two-year agreement,” Lucius said, speaking Narcissa’s thoughts. “And perhaps, we’d be happier with a longer agreement. A wedding closer to your twenties, I think.”
He looked to his wife, but she only had eyes for the boys across the table from her.
“But if this is what you want,” Narcissa cut in, her hand finding Lucius’ over the table. “We will support you. Always.”