Greg/Theo & Hannah
Matchmaking came to him quite by surprise.
Truly, he hadn’t meant to injure Cupid. It was the cherub’s own fault for sneaking about Diagon Alley and aiming that blasted arrow his way.
The audacity.
He loved the costume, though; a toga wrapped over his otherwise nude body, a halo of evergreen-colored leaves resting atop his hair, wings. Not to mention the quiver of arrows slung around his back and the golden bow clenched in his fist.
Theodore Nott was made for this aesthetic.
Except, he didn’t have a keen sense of chemistry, having never fallen in love. For example, he’d accidentally jabbed Draco and Hermione with a pair of bonded arrows and, well, Theo was surprised they hadn’t immediately Avada’d one another. Even if they didn’t last forever, it would be entertaining to watch.
He’d since coupled up several unlikely pairs within The Leaky Cauldron. McGonagall and Trelawney had been most inspired. It was by these odd couplings at his hand that Theo decided his time spent in Cupid’s stead would be in the name of fun.
And it was great fun.
Until the day he tried to bond Greg and that Abbott girl—Hannah.
Then, his whole world changed.
Before Theo had begrudgingly taken up Cupid’s bow, he’d never nocked an arrow, let alone let one soar. He’d been lucky that all his targets were at short distances, leaving most of his duty to luck rather than skill.
Somehow, he’d managed to stick an arrow directly in Greg’s rump. Spurned by pride, Theo spun to find Hannah wiping down the bar with a wet rag and took aim. As his arrow flew, Hannah ducked. It hit the mirror behind the bar, ricocheted off, and lodged directly into Theo’s toga-covered chest.
Bugger.
For a moment, he wobbled on the spot, vision darkening. Then, as his gaze landed on the tall, thick body of his gorgeous former housemate, there was light. Magic crackled.
The universe suddenly made sense as Greg’s eyes met his.
Theo dropped his bow to the ground, then straightened his leafy crown. He stepped toward the man he was now irrevocably in love with.
Their hands met and curled around one another over Greg’s chest.
“Are you having a laugh?” Hannah scoffed. “You’ve come to my inn for weeks, and Goyle gets bloody bonded before me?”
Theo ignored the grumbling innkeeper, drawing Greg in for a passionate kiss.