"Oi, Granger, wait up!"
Hermione turned away from the lake at the sound of a familiar voice, and watched a panting Theodore Nott jog up. Smiling, she teased, "I think you need more exercise, Theo. Shagging Blaise obviously isn't enough."
Refusing to rise to her bait, as always, Theo just sniffed haughtily and replied, "I've been trying to convince him to add a third, but he's playing at being a prude." Knowing she was blushing and had lost yet another battle of wits, Hermione opened her mouth to change the subject, only to be cut off. "But never mind that. You skipped breakfast, which means you missed post. The Ministry sent you something - as did the Greengrass matriarch."
She shrugged at the veiled criticism of her skiving off meals; after all, until the castle's renovations were complete, none of them were technically students, a fact she took great delight in exploiting. It just hurt too much to be ignored by Ginny, who thought it was her fault Harry had hared off to parts unknown, and scowled at by Ron, who felt she was a traitor for befriending the few Slytherins returning for eighth year. Harry would have understood; the war had matured him, and he'd defended their Slytherin year mates from the persecution of the Wizengamot before going traveling to 'find' himself. Unfortunately, last she'd heard, he was planning to settle in Romania for a bit, learning about dragons from Charlie.
Shrugging off her darkening thoughts, she held out her hand to accept the two envelopes, a small frown creasing her brow. "The Ministry is most likely requesting my presence at yet another award ceremony," she mused. "I don't know why they keep asking. After the first Howler I sent them, one would think they'd learn their lesson."
She turned the second, thicker envelope over in her hands, missing Theo's uncharacteristic impatience as she directed all of her attention to the ornate script embossed on the front. "You would tell me if I'd committed some sort of dreadful faux pas against Daphne in the last week or so, right?" she asked him suddenly, not looking up. "Because that's the only reason I can think of for her mother to be writing me." Many of the old families may have publicly denounced their rigid Pureblood tenets at the end of the war, but that newfound tolerance didn't tend to extend to taking tea with Wizarding Britain's most famous Muggleborn. Nor did they tend to communicate with her.
Clearing his throat, Theo said, "I don't think that's it, Hermione."
Something in his voice caught her attention, and her head snapped up, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring in an expression eerily reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall. "You know something," she accused.
"I have approximate knowledge of manythings," he hedged. Relenting, he rubbed the back of his neck - his nervous tell, Hermione had figured out some time ago. "About this, though? Only rumours. It's not anything bad, I assure you. At least not in our circles." He raised one shoulder carelessly. "I don't know how you'll take it." Upon further consideration, that wasn't as reassuring as he'd meant it to be, so he huffed out, "Just open the damn envelope, Granger." Crossing his arms, Theo dropped to the ground next to her with what was probably meant to be a 'devil may care' attitude (after checking that the grass wasn't wet).
She rolled her eyes at his antics, tugging the envelope open gingerly. Her previous experiences with unsolicited Wizarding post had most often resulted in hands covered in some noxious fluid or other, so she felt her caution well justified. Even if Madame Greengrass seemed far too high class for such petty retaliations.
Thankfully, the contents of the envelope were simply sheafs of heavy parchment - all expensive, and all of them cream except for the last, which was a dusky grey. That discrepancy piqued her interest, but common sense told her the letter would be most likely to hold an explanation, so she folded the cream sheets open first.
Theo watched with growing nervous anticipation as Hermione's eyes flew over the letter. By the time she'd reached the end, he was biting his lip, and when she turned to him with wide eyes, he held his breath. He knewwhat that grey parchment meant.
Having expected either outraged indignation or downright refusal, Theo was surprised when her voice held only honest confusion.
"Madame Greengrass wants to adopt me?"
