Chapter 4
Harry burst into the room like a tempest, his usually untamed hair seemed even wilder, a disarray of ebony strands around his distressed face. His eyes, wide and pleading, darted around the room before landing on Hermione, who was engrossed in a thick book. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry dramatically collapsed into a nearby chair, his body seemingly unable to bear the weight of an invisible burden. The chair groaned in protest as he slumped over the cushions, an exaggerated display of despair that bordered on theatrical.
"Hermione! Oh, Merlin's beard, I can't take it anymore! I'm dying here!" he moaned, the words escaping his lips with a melodramatic flair that echoed through the room. His hands grasped at the armrests as if desperately clinging to reality. "It's too much!"
Startled, Hermione snapped her book shut, concern etched across her face. "Harry, what on earth is going on? Why are you—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Harry emitted a dramatic whine, propelling himself from the chair and onto Hermione's lap. The sudden weight caused her to momentarily lose her balance, and she looked down at him with a mixture of confusion and genuine worry. His wide, pleading eyes met hers, as if the fate of the wizarding world depended on her immediate understanding.
"It's my dad, Hermione! He's gone completely mental!" Harry's voice reached a near-wail as he clutched at Hermione's shoulders, his desperation palpable. "I can't let him walk around like this, Hermione! I just can't!"
Hermione blinked, trying to extract herself from Harry's grip. "Your dad? James? What's wrong with his—Harry, calm down!"
"Calm down? How can I calm down, Hermione?" Harry let out a dramatic sigh, his body slumping against her, hand clutching his forehead as if plagued by a terrible headache. "He's… he's wearing crop tops!"
"Crop tops?" Hermione repeated, her initial confusion giving way to a small, amused smile. "What's wrong with crop tops?"
"What's wrong? Everything's wrong! My dad is walking around Grimmauld Place, flaunting his midriff,” Harry gasped dramatically, his voice reaching a feverish pitch. He sat up, looking at Hermione with an expression of sheer horror, clutching his chest as if experiencing a wizarding ailment. "Hermione, you don't understand. He was wearing one that said 'World's sluttiest dad’. I can't unsee it! It's burned into my retinas. I'm blind! I am unwell."
Unable to contain herself, Hermione burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm not exaggerating, Hermione! I wish I were. I saw it with my own eyes." Harry's voice cracked, and he clung to Hermione's shoulders as if he might collapse at any moment. "The mental image is haunting me. You have to help me!"
Hermione, still chuckling, tried to suppress her amusement. "Okay, okay, I get it. We'll do something about it. But you really need to calm down."
"Calm down? Hermione, my father is strutting around like he's auditioning for a Quidditch calendar! I can't handle it.” Harry, on the verge of tears, took a deep breath. “Please, you have to help me. You have to take him shopping. Change his entire wardrobe. Please. Save me from the trauma.”
Hermione couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. "Harry, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"I'm not!" Harry insisted, his voice filled with desperation. "I can't live in a world where my dad thinks it's okay to wear a crop top that calls him the 'world's sluttiest dad. It's embarrassing! He's going to ruin my reputation.'"
"All right, all right. I'll help you with your 'fashion emergency.' I'll take James shopping and make sure he never wears a crop top again."
Harry nodded vigorously, wiping tears from his eyes. "Thank you, Hermione. You're a lifesaver!"
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the sprawling backyard of Potter Manor. Laughter echoed through the air as James and Harry took turns zooming through the air on their broomsticks, playing an intense game of Quidditch. The competitive spirit ran in the family, and today, it was on full display.
Ginny and Hermione lounged on a blanket under a shady tree, their eyes glued to the shirtless spectacle unfolding before them. The chiseled muscles of both father and son were impossible to ignore, and the combination of athleticism and charm had the two women mesmerized.
"Merlin's beard, Hermione, have you ever seen anything so... magnificent?" The redhead couldn't help but let out a low whistle as James executed a particularly impressive maneuver on his broomstick.
Hermione tore her gaze away from James, her cheeks flushed. "What do you mean?"
"Just look at those abs. Merlin must have been having a good day when he created him."
The brunette blushed even deeper, but her friend wasn't finished. "I didn't know Quidditch could be so… inspiring."
"Ginny, you’re with Harry. It's inappropriate to be ogling his dad."
The aforementioned chuckled, leaning in closer. "Inappropriate, maybe. But impossible not to, we both have eyes.Come on, Hermione, don't tell me you're not enjoying the view." she remarked, not bothering to hide her appreciation.
The older girl blushed furiously, avoiding eye contact. "I—I don't know what you're talking about.”
"Oh, please! You can't deny he's attractive. I may be dating Harry, but Melin truly blessed the world when he created James. Look at those tattoos. Did you see the snitch on his back? And what about those antlers on his lower stomach? Do you think I can convince Harry to get one?"
Hermione attempted nonchalance, "I suppose... if you're into that sort of thing. He does seem quite nice to look at—"
"Nice?!" her friend interrupted, her eyes widening. "Hermione, 'nice' doesn't even begin to cover it.” As James swooped to ruffle Harry's hair after a particularly well-played move, the younger girl shouted with a wolfish grin. "Nice moves, James!"
James, catching wind of the compliment, turned around, raising an eyebrow with a sly grin. "Ladies, enjoying the view?" He winked at Hermione, a playful smile on his lips before soaring back into the game.
"Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush. You've got it bad for your best friend’s dad!"
Hermione sputtered, "I do not! That's ridiculous. It's just... I appreciate talent on the Quidditch field."
Ginny grinned, enjoying Hermione's discomfort. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”
After a few more minutes, both father and son descended gracefully to the ground. James, overhearing the conversation, strolled over with a cocky grin, "Appreciating my moves, dolcezza?"
"I—well, I suppose you're a skilled player, but that doesn't mean I..."
James winked at her, interrupting, "No need to be shy, love. I know when I'm being admired."
Hermione's jaw dropped, and she stammered, "I-I… that's not what I—"
"Oh, this is priceless! Hermione, you've got a serious crush on Harry's dad!" Ginny teasingly shoved her friend.
"I do not! It's just... admiration from a distance."
James leaned in closer to both girls, "Admiration, huh? Maybe I should give you a closer look sometime."
Ginny couldn't resist adding, "Oh, I'm sure she'd love that!"
Hermione buried her face in her hands, cursing herself for getting caught in the teasing crossfire. Harry, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mix of horror and embarrassment, couldn't take it any longer. "Dad, seriously?"
James chuckled, giving Hermione a sly wink. "Can't blame a bloke for trying, can you, Harry?"
"Kill me now," he muttered under his breath, Ginny couldn't contain her laughter, and Hermione, still blushing furiously, wished for the ground to swallow her whole.
"Pads! Moony!" James slurred, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and he looked more like an overgrown child than the adult he was.
"Need to talk to you.’S important. Really important."
Sirius and Remus exchanged bemused glances before settling him onto a nearby sofa. "Alright, Prongs, spill. What's so important?" the shaggy wizard asked, suppressing a chuckle. “You look like someone stole your Firebolt."
James dramatically flopped back onto the cushions, his limbs splayed in a display of theatrical distress. "'S Mione, lads. She doesn't pay me enough attention," he lamented, the tone of his voice a mix of genuine concern and the exaggerated woe of someone who had imbibed a bit too much. Said girl was engrossed in animated conversation with her redheaded best friend across the room, and from James's perspective, it seemed that she was enjoying her company a bit too much.
"My wife, can you believe it?" he added, a touch of incredulity coloring his slurred words.
Remus exchanged an amused glance with Sirius, who raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Prongs, we're well aware she's your wife. No need to remind us," Sirius said, a smirk playing on his lips. “Plus, you have a kid in common, what more attention do you need?"
"'S not the point!," James whined, "I've still got it, you know? I'm James Potter, for Merlin's sake! I’m being neglected here!”
"She doesn't know she's your wife, Prongs. We've been through this. You can't be sulking about something she has no clue about," Remus reasoned, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
James waved a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter. What matters is that my wife," he pointed dramatically at Hermione, who remained oblivious to his theatrics, "ignores my charms. She's over there chatting with that Weasley, and the boy is clearly flirting with her!"
"Mate, you're jealous of Ron Weasley? The guy who couldn't properly ask a girl to the Yule Ball? This is rich."
Indignation flashed in James's eyes as he sat up abruptly, looking offended. "I need her to notice me, to appreciate my dashing looks and irresistible charisma. I feel like a forgotten relic. A relic, Pads! She should be paying attention to me, not some red-headed bloke!"
Remus sighed, rolling his eyes at the melodrama unfolding before him. "Prongs, you're married to her. You don't need to impress her every second of the day."
“But she doesn’t know that,” James dramatically threw his arm over his eyes. "I need her to desire me, Moony! Desire!"
"Nott, Hermione's current boy toy is the one you should be focusing on."
"Don't fucking remind me. He's a Slytherin. What does she see in him?" he grumbled, taking another swig from the Firewhisky bottle he clutched like a lifeline.
"Maybe it's the Slytherin bad boy vibe. You know how she likes a bit of danger. Just like when she hooked up with Sirius’ younger brother. It's just a no-strings-attached fling according to your son."
James pouted, taking another swig of Firewhisky. "Look at them, she's all giggles. I can tell you he’s not that funny, I should be the one making her laugh."
"Well, mate, perhaps if you weren't slouched in a corner, drowning your sorrows in firewhisky, she might notice you." Sirius nudged him. "Besides, she's just having a conversation. No need to be a possessive husband."
James crossed his arms, sulking like a petulant child. "Easy for you to say, Pads. You're not married to her."
Remus leaned in, his eyes glinting with amusement. "James, it's just a friendly chat. You're blowing this out of proportion."
"She's not even trying to push him away." James protested, his voice laden with a mix of frustration and hurt pride.
Sirius leaned over to James, whispering conspiratorially, "Maybe you should show Nott and Wealsey who's boss. Challenge them to a duel or something."
James perked up at the idea, his eyes lighting up with a drunken enthusiasm. "You think that would work?"
Remus interjected, "Absolutely not, James. You're not dueling anyone. You're going to sit here, finish your drink, and then go sleep off this ridiculous jealousy or just go talk to her."
As James stumbled toward Hermione, Sirius turned to Remus, shaking his head. "It’s that situation with Goldstein all over again."
Remus chuckled. "Let's hope Hermione can handle drunk James."
"Hey, gorgeous. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" with all the grace of a drunken stag attempting a courtship display. His attempt at a suave grin turned into an awkward smirk as he spoke.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. "James, you're drunk."
"I'm trying to be charming! You think I'm charming, right?"
The girl laughed, "Freaking Prince Charming, James."
James swayed slightly, looking pleased with himself. "That's what I like to hear. Now, how about ditching Weasley and spending some quality time with your favorite person?"
Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "Your son is my favorite person, James. But let's go sit somewhere before you fall over."
"I'll take second place to Harry any day, love.” James declared with a lopsided grin, his arm draped around Hermione as they navigated their way to the stairs. "You're amazing, you know that, right? Putting up with this drunken mess."
Hermione's smile softened, the affectionate warmth in her eyes undeniable. Her fingers gently patted his cheek as she subtly used her wand to change his disheveled clothes into something more comfortable. "Well, you're my drunken mess, James. Sleep now, okay?"
He beamed, watching her go with a mixture of adoration and amusement. "I love you, Granger. Always have, always will."
"This isn't working."
Hermione lifted her head, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "What isn't working?"
Us," Theo replied, avoiding her gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, and after a deep breath, he continued, "This... whatever we have. It's not working."
"What do you mean, Teddy?"
The Slytherin wizard ran a hand through his dark hair, searching for the right words. "I mean, we're pretending. This relationship, or whatever you want to call it, it's not real. We're just fooling ourselves."
Hermione sat up, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. "Pretending? We agreed to keep things casual, no strings attached. What changed?"
Theo sighed, his gaze finally meeting hers. "I thought I could handle it, you know? Just a fling, enjoying each other's company. I want something real, something meaningful."
Hermione's mind raced as she processed his words. She hadn't expected Theo to catch feelings, "I didn't mean to lead you on or hurt you. I thought we were on the same page."
He shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. "We were, but I guess I was wrong. You’re an amazing girl Hermione, it’s impossible not to fall in love with you. "
Hermione felt a lump forming in her throat. She looked away, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to spill. "I never wanted to hurt you, Teddy. I’m so so sorry."
"Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "There's nothing to feel sorry about. Sometimes, these things just happen.”
"I didn't realize you felt this way," she confessed, her words muffled against his chest. Theo tightened his grip, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
"I care about you a lot, Hermione.” He gently pulled away, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “But we both know we can’t keep on like this. I’ve seen the way you look at him, you know?” he teased, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.
Her eyes narrowed in confusion, a slight furrow forming on her brow as she searched Theo's face for an explanation. "Look at who?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Theo chuckled, shaking his head with a bemused expression. "Come on, Hermione. Don't play coy with me. I've seen the way you look at Potter."
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the heat radiating from her neck to the tips of her ears. "H-Harry? He’s dating Ginny," she stammered, trying to deflect the attention.
The Slytherin wizard raised an incredulous eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you kidding me? Not Potter, his dad. It's as clear as day. The way your eyes light up when he walks into a room, the little smiles you try to hide when he's around."
Hermione's attempts to deny it only made Theo more amused. "You can't fool me, Granger. I might not be a Ravenclaw, but I'm not blind. You've got a thing for James."
Her embarrassment deepened, and she fumbled for words. "I-I do not! We're just friends. I mean, he's married, for Merlin's sake."
Theo grinned, enjoying her flustered state. "Oh Merlin, help us. He’s technically not married anymore. He died, remember? It’s time you recognize that you've got a little crush going on."
"I do not!" she protested,her cheeks now a bright shade of red, the flush spreading across her face like a wildfire.
"Denial doesn't suit you, Granger. It's okay to have a crush, you know. Potter's a handsome bloke."
Hermione crossed her arms, a mix of irritation and embarrassment on her face. "This is ridiculous. I do not have a crush on James Potter."
Theo leaned in, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You like him. Red told me you drool every time he’s shirtless. You didn’t drool when I was shirtless, you’re hurting a man’s ego and pride here.”
Hermione scowled at Theo's remark, feeling her embarrassment turning into annoyance. "Since when are you and Ginny best friends?" she asked, unamused.
"You're deflecting, princess," Theo smirked, enjoying every bit of Hermione's discomfort. "And who wouldn't notice your little 'Potter fascination'? Red just happened to spill the beans."
Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes. "You and Ginny gossiping about me? How charming."
Theo leaned back, feigning innocence. "Oh, we don't gossip. We have meaningful conversations about the romantic endeavors of our dear friend Hermione Granger."
She shot him a pointed look. "Meaningful conversations, my ass."
He chuckled. "Alright, let's get back to the matter at hand. You like James Potter. Admit it, Granger."
Hermione crossed her arms defiantly. "I do not! This is absurd. I'm not some schoolgirl with a crush on the popular boy."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "Well, you certainly act like one when he's around."
"I do not act like a schoolgirl," Hermione retorted, her tone defensive. Yet, deep down, amidst the defensiveness, there lingered a hint of self-awareness, a realization that Theo might be onto something she wasn't quite ready to admit.
Theo leaned in, his teasing smirk never fading. "Oh, come on. The blushing, the stammering, the way you suddenly become interested in his every word. It's classic schoolgirl crush behavior."
Hermione huffed, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm not blushing. I just... appreciate his company. He's an interesting person."
Theo raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Interesting, huh? Or maybe you find his abs 'interesting' in a more, shall we say, not academic way?"
Hermione's face turned an even deeper shade of red at Theo's suggestive comment. "I'm leaving," she declared, grabbing her clothes in a huff and giving him the middle finger. “You’re insufferable.”
"Oh, come on," Theo grinned, leaning back into the bed. "Don't be like that. Only because I'm right. You're crushing on James Potter, and it's adorable."
"I hate you," she muttered, her annoyance evident in every word.
Theo, however, remained unfazed by her protest. He leaned back against the headboard, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't seem to think that when you were screaming my name a few minutes ago," he drawled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The tendrils of smoke curled around him as he continued, his voice dipped in mischief, "Oh, yes, give me more. Right there," he chuckled, mimicking his lover's voice with an exaggerated playfulness.
Hermione rolled her eyes, a mixture of irritation and resignation etched on her face. She knew attempting to outwit Theo in this verbal duel was a lost cause. As she finished dressing, her movements were swift and purposeful, determined to put an end to this banter. However, not one to back down, she couldn't resist a parting shot.
"You're delusional, Nott. And I do not sound like that."
Theo blew a smoke ring into the air, his expression teasing. "Sure, princess. whatever you say. Just remember, denial isn't just a river in Egypt. If he isn’t good enough, you can always come back to me."
"Fuck you," Hermione spat, her frustration evident.
"You already did," he retorted with a wicked grin, the innuendo hanging in the air. As Hermione stormed out of the room, he called after her, "That dick better be fucking good, Granger!"