He'd done it again!
Like a cat stalking a canary, like a panther closing in on his prey, he'd struck and vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing to accuse him of his swiftness. But she knew. She was the only one who did. No one else believed her, but it was written all over his face, his smug…handsome face.
Damn him! He had no right making her crazy like this! What game was he playing? What was he trying to prove? She had to find out. She had to know. She couldn't take this anymore. She was slowly going mad. Soon, she'd be joining Gilderoy Lockhart in St. Mungo. She'd be the one huddled in the corner, knees hugged to her chest, hair in matted, tangles, staring vacantly into space while rocking forcefully back and forth. That's what he was doing to her, deliberately, she was sure of it. He was Slytherin after all and when did they do things by the book?
No, no, no, she was Hermione Granger! She was the smartest witch of her age. She wouldn't let him get to her…again, not that she was counting those as failures. So, he'd somehow managed to sneak past her defenses and taken control…somehow, but those days were over and revenge was hers!
"He's up to something, Harry," she insisted, in a hushed whisper. "Just look at him!"
Together, they peeked around the bookshelves to the table in the corner, where the object of her frustrations pored lazily over a parchment. His shaggy, black hair hung over his face like a curtain, concealing his unnaturally pale features and melted-honey-colored eyes.
"You're right," Harry hissed from beside her. "He must be up to something if he's studying. It's just not natural."
Hermione scowled. "This isn't a joke, Harry! I'm serious!"
"Well, so am I! You've been dragging me around all day following the poor guy and he's yet to do…"
"He's moving!"
Harry whipped around and sighed, heavily. "He's scratching his nose, Hermione."
"But it could be some kind of code or a signal!" she insisted, frantically.
A frown creased the dark-haired, green-eyed wizard's brow. "A signal to whom? We're the only three in here!"
"You don't know that! He's been acting really funny for the past few days! Last night, he took a second helping of potatoes!"
Harry blinked, watching her as if she'd lost her mind. "Uh…maybe he was hungry…?"
"Ok, but this morning, he ate a pastry,"
"You're right, he should be executed! Off with his head!"
She frowned, unimpressed with his lack of support. "He usually only has a slice of toast for breakfast and a glass of orange juice!"
"Maybe he didn't want toast and juice this morning," Harry supplied, arching a brow mockingly. "Or maybe you were freaking him out with all your spying and he nervously grabbed the wrong thing."
"Don't be ridiculous!" she huffed, impatiently. "Oh! He went to the bathroom six times all day!"
Harry's eyes went round as saucers. "You were counting how many times the poor guy went to the bathroom? Are you serious? What's wrong with you?"
"No one goes to the bathroom that many times, Harry, unless they're hiding something!"
"Or, he really had to go! Maybe that pastry didn't agree with him!"
Hermione frowned for a moment as if contemplating this new bit of information, but that didn't last. "I'm still certain he's up to something."
"Maybe he's secretly meeting Voldemort in the toilets," Harry muttered dryly.
"Do you really think so?" she gasped, stiffening.
A deep scowl darkened Harry's face. "Of course not! Voldemort is dead!"
"True…true…ok, but explain why he was talking to Malfoy during lunch then."
Harry palmed his face, rubbing the heel of his hands into his eyes and nearly knocking his glasses to the ground. "Maybe because they're in the same house? Or maybe he was asking for the salt. Or maybe he just felt like having a conversation with someone and Malfoy was the closest."
"He never talked to Malfoy before," she shook her head forcefully. "I'm positive he's up to something!"
"Then why don't you go ask him instead of following him around like a weirdo?"
"Because if he really was up to something, he'll never tell me!"
Harry sighed, hanging his head. "I seriously think you've lost your mind and…"
"He's leaving! Come on!"
He shook off the hand she'd clamped around his wrist. "You go! I'm tired of playing Sherlock Holmes! I'm going to find Ron and go play Quidditch!"
"But it's raining!"
"Trust me; I need the distraction after the day you've put me through I need a freaking vacation!"
Leaving her sulking in his wake, Harry hurried out of the library as if the devil were after him. Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. Well, she didn't need him to help her get to the bottom of this. She'd solve the mystery alone.
The figure at the table got to his feet, gathered his books and walked casually from the library. Hermione waited a moment before tagging behind him. His slow, casual footsteps shuffled through the deserted corridors, muffling the rustle of his robes and hopefully concealing her sly pursuit. He turned the bend and continued on. She momentarily wondered where he was headed when the Slytherin dormitory was on the other side of the castle when she recognized the doorway leading to the Astronomy tower.
Her curiosity perked further. Was he meeting someone up there? What other reason could he possibly have for venturing up there when classes had ended hours ago and it was nearly bedtime?
Something tightened in her chest and her fists clenched at the thought of him meeting someone for a romantic stargazing. It had to be that hussy from Ravenclaw. She'd seen how the fourth year girl had practically thrown herself at him the other day. It had been shameful.
At the top, she found him standing with his back to her, staring over the grounds, arms crossed, body relaxed. The pale moon bathed him in a shimmering light, making him appear almost translucent and so beautiful.
"Still following me, Granger?" he murmured, voice laced with amusement.
Hermione stiffened, heat crawling into her cheeks. "I wasn't following! I happened to be going this way!"
He turned slowly, mouth curved in a sly smirk worthy of a Slytherin. His whiskey-colored eyes bore into hers with a heat only he could posses. His very soul seemed to radiate from the golden depths.
"And the library? Did you happen to just be there as well?"
"It's the library!" she bit out, defensively. "It's public property!"
A brow tweaked, sardonically. "Is that so? I thought perhaps you've finally realized just how much you've come to love me and couldn't stand the thought of us being parted."
Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and avoiding his hypnotic stare. "That's just…it's just…you don't know what you're talking about!"
"No? That's too bad," she peeked over to him from the corner of her eyes, watching as he removed something from the pocket of his robes. "See, I went through a great amount of difficulty to obtain this and if you're not sure you love me…I suppose I can give it to someone else…"
She was at his side in seconds, grabbing his wrist and wrenching his long fingers a part to reveal the small, black box enclosed in soft velvet.
"Theo…?" she whispered, breathless.
He smirked. "Had I known what it would take to make you speechless, I would have proposed ages ago!"
Her cinnamon-colored eyes widened, and she was certain she'd ceased breathing for a moment. "What…what are you…?"
"I suppose I should have done it the right way, but you make it hard for a guy to keep a secret with your busy-body ways."
She spattered a moment, dumfounded by what he was telling her. "This…this is what you were…Draco and the pastry…the bathroom?"
His brows scrunched. "I don't understand the bathroom comment, but because I couldn't get my grandmother to send me the ring, knowing you'd be curious, I had it sent to my aunt, Draco's mom, who sent it to Draco, who gave it to me this morning. I must say, love, being with you is a twenty-four-hour cloaks-and-daggers game. I don't think I've worked so hard to keep anything a secret, and I'm a Slytherin for crying out loud!"
"Your grandmother…?"
He nodded, peeling the lid back to reveal the most beautiful square-cut emerald embedded in a band of silver she'd ever seen. "It's been in my family for generations. I want you to wear it."
She frowned, warily. "Just wear it? Or is there a specific reason I'm wearing it?"
He chuckled. "Can't fool you, can I? No, I don't want you to just wear it. I want you to marry me as soon as school is over and become a Nott."
Mrs. Hermione Nott…she silently giggled at the thought and returned her focus to the gorgeous man watching her, waiting.
"Only if you promise not to ever hide anything from me again."
He grinned. "As if I could."
She returned his smiling face and nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you, Theodore."
Her acceptance found her wrapped in his strong embrace, lips incarcerated in a fiery kiss that curled her toes and sealed the cage and captured her heart forever. He only broke the spell long enough to push the ring over her finger before pulling her back into the warmth of his arms and returning the blissful torture of his mouth over hers. Hermione tunneled her fingers through his silky hair before allowing herself the pleasure of melting completely against him.
"I need to tell Harry," she whispered, breathlessly after a few more minutes of lingering kissing.
"He already knows." Theo replied, grinning when she pinched her lips thinly. "Now, don't be upset, love, I needed help throwing you off my trail for a few hours."
"He's supposed to be my best friend! He's supposed to tell me everything!" she snapped, wanting to pout, but being unable to every time the moonlight caught the ring on her finger.
"Think of the stories you can tell our children one day and how the Great Harry Potter helped their father romance their mother into marriage."
She laughed, despite herself. "No wonder you want to be a lawyer. You're too slick, mister."
He winked down at her. "I was slick enough to catch myself the Gryffindor Princess, wasn't I?"
"True," she murmured, leaning up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his. "Vary true."