A/N: New multi-chapter story from me! This is a story I have been thinking about for a while. After thinking and thinking about it, I finally gave into the urge and started typing. Not my usual Tom/Hermione, but Theo/Hermione instead. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it :)
Surprise disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter and will not be making money from this.
Theodore Nott woke quickly, and grimaced at the bright sunlight which poked through his drapes. He lay there, not moving at first, till he finally decided to roll onto his back and stare at the forest green canopy above his bed. As he took in the familiar drapes and folds of the fabric, his body jolted when he finally realised it was Monday, and he had an early morning appointment at Gringotts.
"Shit," he muttered, as he checked the large clock on the bedroom wall across from him and realised that he was already running late. "Shit, shit, shit … Mippy!"
The small House Elf popped into the room. "Yes, Master?"
"Why didn't you wake me? Now I'll be late," Theo snapped as he jumped out of bed, changed out of his pyjamas, and grabbed a set of dress robes that had been laid out the night before.
"But Master, Mippy was tolds by Master Theodore not to disturb his mornings!" the Elf squeaked, it's big eyes watering at idea of his master being displeased.
Theo sighed in annoyance. He had no time to deal with the hysterics of a House Elf. "Fine. Don't worry about breakfast, and I'll probably be home late," he said and quickly dismissed the Elf.
Half an hour later, Theo found himself seated with a weak cup of tea, in front of the Goblin who had acted as a financial adviser to his family for as long as he could remember. Many of the more wealthy families had Goblins who provided wealth advice for quite a sizable extra fee.
"We have called you in, Mr Nott, because of the life sentence handed to your father, as of last week," the Goblin announced. "Now that your father is in Azkaban permanently, and is therefore incapacitated to manage Nott industries and your family vaults, you are now legally responsible for all finances, shares, and property. Do you understand?"
Theo sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair, effectively ruining any previous neatness. He already knew all of this, of course. "Yes."
"Excellent, sign these," the Goblin replied and promptly handed over several long sheets of parchment to sign.
Theo stared at the parchment before him as the Goblin started droning on about the responsibilities in managing this family fortune. Lists and lists of numbers … money, money, money.
However, taking a closer look, he didn't realise now just how much of a beating the Nott vaults had taken in the years that led to the final battle. His father had certainly put some serious Galleons into Voldemort's campaign. And what was there to show for it? Absolutely nothing. Fuck.
"I suggest, Mr Nott, that you begin looking at investing more of your money so you can rebuild your fortune …" the Goblin said, as his sharp eyes took in Theo's expression.
"And how would you suggest that?" Theo drawled. "Everyone is in a similar situation, and the Wizarding business world is still trying to repair itself after the war."
"Ah, yes, but the muggle business world isn't—"
"You think I want to invest my family's Galleons with Muggles?"
"You would be surprised at the number of families who do, Mr Nott," the Goblin replied crisply.
It wasn't that Theo was as bad as his father. The war had shown him enough on that lunacy. However, Theo still thought that the wizarding world was far superior compared to the plain and dirty muggle world … even if they were muggleborns or halfbloods or purebloods. At least they had magic. How muggles survived without it he would never – nor care to – understand.
"How about I book an appointment with our Muggle Business Liaison officer later this week?" the Goblin asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Theo sighed loudly. "Do I have a choice?"
"Mr Nott, I cannot force you to do anything. But if you do not change your financial ways, with the Ministry compensation laws coming into effect for all families of convicted Death Eaters, I can guarantee you won't have a knut to rub together by the time you're thirty."
"Shit," Theo muttered for what felt like the millionth time that day. Now he was paying for his father's poor decisions in more ways than one.
XXX
"Are you sure you girls will be fine on your own?" Jean Granger asked as she finished setting a final box down in the small cottage.
Hermione looked up from the boxes she had been tentatively looking through. "Of course, Mum. Are you sure you don't want me to Apparate you?"
Hermione's mother held up her car keys and jangled them with a happy look on her face. "Quite."
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored Ginny's snigger in the background. "It's a perfectly safe way to—"
"I'm fine, dear," Jean cut off the impending lecture she had already heard before. "Besides, I need to run some errands before I get home."
"Alright," Hermione sighed. "Well, will I see you and Dad next weekend?"
"Of course." Her mother nodded. "Now, are you sure you will be alright here?"
"Of course," Hermione parroted her mother, causing her to click her tongue at her daughter.
Ginny stood up from in-between the boxes she was currently sorting. "Don't worry, Mrs Granger, I'll make sure Hermione's okay."
"Thank you, Ginny," Jean replied with a smile. "Well, I must be off if I ever want to get home before dark. Have fun, girls," she said as she gathered her handbag, coat, and scarf.
"We will," Hermione and Ginny chorused at the same time.
As soon as Jean had left, Ginny spun around and smiled at her friend as she pulled out a bottle of wine. "Let's celebrate," she announced.
"Celebrate? Why on earth would you want me to celebrate leaving your brother?"
"Forget I'm even related to Ron tonight, Hermione. I'm on best friend duty anyway. Besides we need to celebrate your promotion, too."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine," she replied and watched Ginny Accio large ceramic mugs and open the bottle of red wine. She supposed it was deserved, considering she had recently officially qualified as a trainee Healer at St Mungos.
"Classy," Hermione commented wryly as Ginny handed her a cup with a faded picture of Garfield painted on the side that had been a Christmas present when she was five.
Ginny scoffed. "They're your cups. Besides, we haven't unpacked the proper ones yet."
"True."
Ginny held up her own mug, one with English roses painted on it, and smiled. "Here's to new beginnings."
Hermione looked around the cramped cottage and sighed heavily, though there was a small smile on her face. "To new beginnings."
After both girls took generous sips of their wine they looked around the cottage thoughtfully.
"Merlin, Hermione, I still can't believe your Great Aunt gave you this place," Ginny said.
"She didn't give it to me; she left it to my Mum. Mum and Dad are just letting me rent it."
"It's pretty much yours though," Ginny replied. "I mean, your Mum didn't seem too bothered about the changes you want to make."
Hermione nodded. That much was true. The Grangers didn't seem bothered at all about Hermione taking over the cottage located in the Hampshire countryside. In fact, they practically offered it on a silver platter when they found out Hermione and Ron had ended their engagement.
On the proviso that Hermione would sort the place out, as her Great Aunt Beryl had been a bit of a hoarder, her parents were letting her live here practically rent free. Although, looking at the mess she had to sort through, she thought her parents were the clever ones in all of this.
Still, the place was 'new' in a sense, as it did not bear any reminders of her relationship with Ron. Hermione internally winced when she thought of her now ex fiancé. How had things turned out so horribly? Only two years ago, the war had ended and Hermione and Ron had finally started dating. When he had proposed six months ago, getting married only seemed like the next logical step. Well, it was, until Hermione found herself standing in the kitchen one night arguing with Ron about some stupid, small thing that she realised that she did not want this. At first, the thought had hit her like a sucker punch, and she had quickly pushed it away, pretending that it had never even occurred to her.
However, as the months rolled on, she found the voice becoming more and more prominent in her head. The awful thing was that she couldn't do it; she was scared of losing Ron. That was, losing Ron the friend, not Ron the fiancé. How had she not seen it earlier? They were completely unsuited to one another, not to mention the lack of passion between the sheets. She didn't get excited about being with Ron … What a mess she had created! And when Hermione had finally realised it, all she felt was trapped.
Ron was a good man, and deserved someone who truly loved him – not someone who had merely become too comfortable and secure in the idea of him. Breaking up with Ron was one of the hardest things she had ever done. They were still barely speaking. Hermione only hoped that one day they could put this mess behind them and be friends again.
She internally winced when she realised she was moping over it again. She needed to stop thinking about it. She had spent enough of the last fortnight crying over that failure.
"—the kitchen really only needs a fresh coat of paint. The cupboards still look like they are solid. What do you think about white and natural timber bench-tops? Really country, in my opinion. When are you getting the fireplace connected to St Mungos?"
Ginny's question forced Hermione to stop thinking about Ron and pay attention. "Someone from the Ministry is coming out later this week," she replied.
"The rooms don't need much either, you just need to get rid of this hideous furniture," Ginny added.
"You've got that right," Hermione replied looking around the room in distaste.
Great Aunt Beryl was a huge fan of the muggle television show Antiques Roadshow. Unfortunately, this meant that she had spent an inordinate amount of time at markets, trying to find 'precious' antiques. In the end, it was all junk, with barely anything of value found when her parents claimed the property from the old woman's last will and testament. Hermione grimaced as her attention was caught by a particularly hideous orange and brown lamp shade.
"Chin up, Hermione. Harry will be coming tomorrow too, and with three of us, we'll make a good dent in it," Ginny said.
"I hope so," Hermione replied. Because she realised that this house was exactly the change she needed.
XXX
A/N: Sorry, the first chapter isn't a long one. Just a taste ;) Our two main characters will meet in the next chapter. Thank you for reading!
FYI, my characterisation of Theo is based from the small amount of information from JKR, and my own further interpretations from that.
Cheers,
Shan
