Disclaimer: I don't own the charcters. Credit goes to J. K. Rowling.
Universe: Hogwarts 7th year.
Summary: Daphne needs to choose a suitable husband. Theo helps her make a list.
Theodore turned the page of his book and stopped. One of the dormitories' doors had opened, the hinges squeaking, letting someone walk into the common room. It was unusual; at that hour people would usually go to bed, so it was either someone who was sneaking around to see their lover in the middle of the night, or that someone was Draco or Blaise coming from their year's dormitory because Crabbe was snoring way too loud.
He smelled her strong scent of vanilla and something else before he could actually see her. Daphne Greengrass sank herself –gracefully and effortless- into the armchair in front of him. She was wearing a silky night robe in a pale shade of pink which created a striking contrast with the dark room, making her seem, in the light of the fire, ethereal.
Theo returned to his book, without saying a word, but her presence was hard to ignore and he had to admit he was a little intrigued. It was obvious from miles away that she wanted something.
She glanced around the room, biting her lower lip, unsure what to do. A few girls were writing essays, almost falling asleep. She looked at them for a couple of seconds convincing herself that they wouldn't hear her.
"Theodore," she called, trying to get his attention.
"Daphne," he acknowledged her, his eyes scanning her one more time before focusing back on the paragraph he was rereading for the third time.
"My father… he… wants to find me a husband," she whispered, watching him carefully.
He turned the page of the book, quickly scanning the text before responding, unimpressed. "Congratulations, who's the lucky guy?"
Daphne rested her head in her palm, leaning in the chair, closer to the fire.
"He lets me choose." Theo's brows went up in surprise; that was more than most pureblood families did when it came to arranged marriages. He waited for her to continue. "He wants a list of potential husbands, but you're a better judge of character than me."
He closed the book and threw it on the table next to him. The countless uses of unicorn blood won't show him the true meaning of life; that was for sure. He stretched his legs in front of him, looking at the way the luscious black leather of his shoes caught the light. He sat like that for a while, until Daphne pushed him with her foot. He frowned, brought back from his thoughts and noticed that the armchairs were closer than usual and that she was wearing those hideous fluffy white slippers again. They looked like bloody stuffed chinchillas.
"Your father wants you to make him a list of potential husbands; so that he can say that you chose the guy yourself if it turns out to be awful, and you want me to help you sign your imprisonment."
"When you put it that way…" she sighed. The way Theodore saw the world was difficult to deal with.
"Fine. Let me guess: pureblood, rich and preferably a Slytherin." His green eyes stopped on hers for a second before turning and focusing on the burning wood in the fireplace. "Let's hear it then. You already have the list, right?"
"No, but we can make it right now." She said summoning a piece of parchment and a quill. Theo waited for her to say the first name.
"How about Montague?" she asked.
"He's a brute, very violent. And the small brain he possesses had been affected by the closet incident." Theo responded quickly, not taking his eyes from the fire.
"Bode?" she suggested, writing something on her paper
"Dumber than a troll."
"Pucey?"
"Pucey with those teeth? I know you want to be the beautiful one in a marriage, but that's low, extremely low." Theo rested his chin on his hand and watched her, amusement filling his eyes.
She sighed, already exasperated knowing that this was going nowhere.
"Fine then, Marcus Flint."
Theo let out a cold short laugh.
"Are you a keeper, Daphne?" he asked.
"Of course, I'm a keeper, look at me." The girl said with determination in her voice.
Theo leaned back in his chair, laughing genuinely. Daphne crossed her arms, and puffed in her chest.
"Are you a male professional goalkeeper, going by the name of Oliver Wood?" he asked, looking at her.
"No, what does he have to-?" She took a strand of blonde hair and tucked it behind her ear. She looked at the flames, pouting. Theo bit his lips, trying to hold his laughter. It was too easy and extremely enjoyable to tease her.
"Then Flint won't be interested in you. Honestly, Daphne, pick a man who can keep you satisfied… or, at least, who is willing to try. What about the guys from our year?"
"My father is not fond on Lady Zabini's history and therefore, not on her son either. And Draco… well the Malfoy family is not in the Lord's graces and if Potter wins, my position in society won't be great. Besides, I don't see myself sharing a life with them." She yawned.
Theodore nodded, understanding the logic behind Andrew Greengrass' reasoning. He had two daughters he wanted to keep safe in an uncertain world, untouched by possible marriage laws or filthy old unmarried Death Eaters. He needed a son-in-law, influential enough to survive in the world of a madman or in the world of the scar headed hero.
"Boot?" Theo suggested, his lips turning into a smirk.
"I would have to use a silencing charm on him every morning." Daphne rolled her eyes.
"Weasley?" he cursed himself for even suggesting that outrageous family.
"Ronald?" Daphne asked, her lips forming a teasing smile.
"Oh, Merlin's bread, no! There are like… five more, one of them has to be decent. The one who was a Prefect, he works in the ministry. He's a people pleaser, a social climber and probably he will try to keep his head above the water no matter who's in power. One works in Romania, with dragons. Life in a wood cabin in the mountains will suit you well." He joked. "Or one of the twins, at least they would have a nice fortune…" He tapped his fingers against the armchair.
"I doubt Molly Weasley is the adept of arranged marriages." She cut him off. They have been friends since the day Pansy decided that she had a crush on Draco and Draco had been too afraid to spend his day alone with her. Over the years, as Draco's and Pansy's relationship became more dramatic, Daphne and Theo developed some kind of friendship. It came naturally, just as a breeze of fresh air on an arid summer day. She looked at him, remembering the walks around the lake, the hours in the library, all their jokes about Pansy and Draco. Little by little the shy, quiet, and weedy boy had disappeared, and in his place sat a young man with a remarkable intelligence, a sharp tongue, and sometimes with a questionable humour.
Suddenly, Theo snapped his fingers, bringing Daphne back from her reverie.
"Longbottom. He's a pureblood heir of a nice enough fortune, with a traditional and terrifying grandmother. He's nice and soft like a Hufflepuff." He was looking like one of her father's associates when he made a deal no one could refuse.
"That's your best suggestion, really?!" Theo had the impression she sounded revolted and disappointed. He shrugged, looking absentmindedly at the celling. Her eyes travelled from his bare, unmarked arm – lately, he has been wearing his sleeves rolled up, trying to defy the band of black dressed baboons– to his shoulders, then to his chest and long neck, emphasized by the three opened buttons of his shirt. He didn't have Draco's attitude. The attitude of someone who knew they were good looking and used it to their advantage. Theodore was unaware of the way his eyes sparkled in the light of the sun, or how contagious his smile and laugh could be. He was unaware of a lot of things…
"Not exactly the kind of man I was looking for, but seeing that there are no other available options, he will do." She sighed, grabbing another piece of paper. Theo could picture her small and elegant handwriting forming the letter to her father, the same handwriting that was also on the corners of his Charms notes accompanied of simple drawing of cats and stickmen. His eyes lingered on her legs, noticing that the robe was too short for the middle of March, or to be worn around school with all the men with a problematic behaviour around. Trying to ignore the burst of protective feelings that filled his heart, Theodore watched her delicate hand's movements, remembering how good it felt when her fingers were playing with his hair and how it fitted his palm when they walked around Hogsmeade on slippery ice. He remembered how her lips had tasted like the first time he had kissed her, and the second, and the third…
"Thank you, for your help, Nott. I will make sure to send you an invitation to the wedding."
They had never been serious, nobody knew about them. This was her announcement that she needed to focus on her future. She stood up, straightening her robe and headed towards the door. In a quick motion, Theodore grabbed her arm and pulled Daphne into his lap. He kissed her like he never did before. It was passionate, but in the same time gentle saying all the things that have been unspoken between them for far too long. 'I will always keep you safe. I love you. I will never let anyone touch you.'
"That's very kind of you, Greengrass, but I don't think the groom needs an invitation to his own wedding." He said, looking into her hypnotizing eyes, while his hand went to take the letter out of her hands and crumbled it.
"You should read that before throwing it into the flames." Daphne suggested, placing her head on his shoulder, waiting.
Still holding her tightly in his arms, he straightened the parchment and glance through it
Dear Father, after a lot of thinking I realised that the only man suitable to be my husband is Theodore Nott Jr. I hope you will see and understand the motives of my choice.
[…]
Your daughter, Daphne.
"Check-mate." She whispered in his ear, then placing a delicate kiss on his jaw, and another, and another…