Author's Note: I apologize for the late update. Things at work have gotten a lot more hectic. I recently went to a Wedding for my boss and his wife (They had a small ceremony a year ago, and wanted an actual church wedding) and had to open this entire week. You can thank Maripaz6, an amazing friend of mine, for going through and beta'ing this chapter. I couldn't have done it without her. And, if you're reading this chapter, Mari (which I hope), love ya! :*

As always, enjoy

-Carolare Scarletus

September 19th, 1997

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.

The second his eyes landed on the Prefect, Marcus Flint's eyes lit up as if he'd stumbled upon diamonds in a cave filled with nothing but muck. He watched from afar, keeping a fair, yet reasonable distance from the boy as he strutted down the corridor, the look of absolute mirth marring his once beautiful face. He knew very well why Theo was pissed; everyone within fifty-feet of the boy could read his aura, and it wasn't reading well. From the way his brows were knitted together in a permanent scowl to the half-mooned circles underneath his eyes despite the myriad of Sleeping Potions spiked into his juice, anyone with half a quarter of a brain would be able to tell that Theodore Nott, boy wonder and one of the heartthrobs of Slytherin, was hungover off his arse. It was, after all, his doing. And, he couldn't be any more pleased with the turnout.

That reminded him, Marcus would have to thank Finnegan for smuggling the illegal cocktail in. Merlin knew he'd be dead if Snape had caught him selling in the trade that ran underneath Hogwarts, though he suspected the Potions Master partook in the forbidden substance time to time. How else was he supposed to deal with little shites like himself? He supposed, with Snape, it took more than just a bit of Firewhiskey before class; Marcus was in a league of his own. He prowled the corridor like a leopard, jumping at the first chance to piss Nott off as he walked passed him.

"Hey, Mr. Prefect-" Marcus started, trying to catch up to him as Theodore parted the mass of students heading toward him.

"Bugger off, Flint," Theo growled, wincing a little at the sound of his own threat. He continued to walk, ignoring the stares generated by the overly curious students. Clearly, he was in no mood to talk. All the more fun for Flint. Messing with Theodore first thing in the morning was golden, but a pissed off Theo was… priceless. Plus, he was still hammered, which was a bonus. "I don't want to talk to you."

Looking ashened, Marcus stopped and placed a hand on his chest. "Did I do something," he asked as if he didn't know.

The boy sent him a death glare.

"Alright, alright," Marcus threw up his hands up defensively. They quickly made their way through a lingering group of Ravenclaw girls, who gave Marcus a flirty and suggestive smirk. "Not going to touch you. I just wanted to say that I hope you feel better and that you look like shite," he stated with finalty, trying to keep his snicker in check. Though, in the end, he let it slip and within seconds he was laughing and clenching his side as if he'd been cursed.

Theo shot him a look as they made their way down the corridor. So, this debilitating headache had been his doing. They soon arrived at their classroom, and, of course, the door was locked. Defeated, he pressed his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to tune out Flint's rapturous laughter with something less evil. Anything would be better than his laughter. "You're one to talk," he told him grumpily, his eyes still closed.

"Well, it is hard being me and all. Being this fabulous comes with a price." He made a dramatic statement of smirking before taking the unoccupied portion of the wall beside him. They stood in silence for a minute, watching as students appeared from the staircase, taking sharp lefts and rights as they hurried to class. The majority of them consisted of second and third years, a shining gem of what life used to be. A life before the hallmarks of a teenage dream and booze. The sound of student's banter and joking was almost too much for Theodore. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey had anything for hangovers. But, first, he needed to find out what the fuck Marcus put in that punch because he couldn't possibly be the only one feeling like a train ran over him.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Well," he began disdainfully, rubbing his temples with rapid movements," for one, my roommate doesn't know how to keep his bloody hands to himself, I've got a headache the size of fucking Scotland, and oh, did I mention how much I hate you?"

"I take it she didn't show up," Marcus said, grinning. He hadn't been a firm believer in his rendezvous with the spunky Gryffindor; in fact, Theo knew that he made a bet with Draco that he'd fail. Looked like the heir owed him some Galleons.

Digging his head into the crook where his elbow met his arm, Theodore ignored the persistent questions of his roommate and focused on how'd he ended up in this mess.

"No shite."

"I told you so."

"I'll get her one of these days," mumbled Theo. "Though, I was stupid to even think that she'd show up."

"Is that all you're thinking about?" Marcus asked, moving to stand next to him. His belongings were tossed onto the floor in a less than ceremonious way; the sound of his satchel hitting the rough wood was like chalk against an old, worn-out board and Theo had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from letting a non-verbal slip from his mind. "Aside from Granger finding you absolutely mental, that is."

"I saw Blaise had some fun the other night." Theo murmured softly to change the subject, his eyes still closed. "Suppose, that wasn't your doing, eh?"

"Can't say I recall." Marcus feigned innocence, making a grand production of dragging his finger against his jaw. "Remind me that I owe Montague some galleons because Zabini's performance was priceless. Don't supposed Snape will turn a blind eye if his picture so happens to find its way into the yearbook?"

"I don't think so," he told him. Theodore opened his eyes. "And, I don't suppose you have anything to get rid of this blasted headache, now do you?"

Marcus shook his head, and he groaned again.

Fucking excellent.

He had another class to get through before he can even think about seeing Madam Pomfrey, and even going up to see the old hag wasn't a guarantee. Whatever Marcus put in the punch had already sent seven students to the infirmary. And, that's just only counting from Slytherin. He hadn't the faintest idea if he's given his secret concoction of permanent headaches to anyone else. The bastard really was trying to get someone killed.

A determined gleam flickered in his eyes. "What the fuck did you put in that punch?"

Marcus thought for a second. "Let's just say… it's illegal in three countries."

"Jesus," Theodore slammed his head against the wall, groaning at the spike of pain as it mingled with the excruciating aftermath of the party. Everything after leaving Granger to think was a blur, and even that was saying something. If it hadn't been the drink Flint gave him before his encounter with her, then it had to have been after. Shortly after she left, he'd gotten mixed up with Malfoy and Zabini and the rest of the night was history. If he had known he'd wake up to Draco's naked ass strutting into the room, full of confidence, he would've easily believed he was dreaming. But, the narcotics provided by Flint were more realistic and believable than anything he's ever tried and he vowed in that instant to never drink again, for as long as he lived.

He really did need to stop hanging out with him.

"You know, you've been pretty quiet about my antics up until now" began Marcus thoughtfully, looking at him as if he was hiding an inside joke. "I could reward you for keeping your silence, only if you're up for it, of course. Now, about that potion…" he said, grinning.

"You fucking prick!"

All Marcus did was laugh as he produced a small vial from his pocket. There was no label on it, so had to have been of his own creation.

"Been in Snape's closet. You'd be surprised what you'd find in there…"

"Bloody hell!" Theo hissed, trying to snatch the vial from his grasp. Of course, Marcus was quicker and only proved that the longer he waited to take whatever concoction he came up with, the worse his headache became. "I shouldn't have listened to you!"

"Maybe it'll one day to teach you a lesson," Marcus told him, laughing at the thought Professor Binns gliding into the classroom, ignoring the banter of his class. He'd imagined him taking out his notes as usual, going straight into the lesson without so much as a glance at his audience. It was only when they students garnered too much attention did they relent and lowered their voices. Though, he was known to not even bat an eye at anything. "I still haven't worked out the ratio with this one, but Potions is a science, isn't that the Muggle saying?"

"Point taken," Theodore huffed, eying the vial with true longing. If only he could get it... "And, I don't care, so long as it doesn't kill me. Now, gimmie that bloody vial. I still have Potions to get through after this and I've been tortured enough."

"Are you sure," Flint asked, grinning. He didn't even stop him when he reached over again, this time taking the vial, and popping the cork out. Tilting his head thoughtfully, he watched Theo gulp the small potion down, one thought clearly on his mind. "One would think he'd realize he's been dead for more than a century…" Marcus said, smitten. "Catching fire would be a glorious way to go…but, I could do without burning alive."

"Then, stop trying to pawn fags off of people, Flint," laughed Theo, wincing at the hole being drilled inside his skull.

He really needed to stop hanging out with the bastard.

Marcus only smirked.

Just as he was about to say something, he was met with a vision. Like some sort of celestial angel, Granger emerged from the crowd, her hair bouncing as she hurried down the corridor, a determined look on her face. Theodore watched her for a second before his lips formed an evil grin. Of course, he wasn't truly devoid of his camera; he was discrete with his plan as he took out a small device from his pocket. He'd been toying it for a while now, and he thought using it on her would be the perfect opportunity to see if it worked. With a non-verbal spell, light erupted between the two of them the moment she passed by him. When it cleared, Granger looked dazedly around her, before she captured his amused eyes and glowered at him for attempting to one-up her.

"Humorous, Nott." she sneered. Hermione looked between him and Marcus, who only looked at her with marred confusion. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"The photo," she said. "What sort of tomfoolery are you up to now?"

"Tomfoolery, Granger? Theo grinned. "Who says I'm up to anything? I'm just standing here waiting for class to start and minding my own business."

Hermione wasn't buying it. "I'm not in the mood for this. Just hand it over, Nott."

Laughing, Theo caved. He took out his wand, swished in an elegant manner, producing a single sheet from air. He tilted his head slightly in consideration before telling her the verdict.

"Hm, not a masterpiece.." he told her with a smile. "I thought the camera would be ready for moving pieces. But, I'll get it. Don't you worry about that."

He handed her the picture, watching her reaction carefully. As always, it remained the same. Unmoving, uninterested. It was as if the subject of the manner didn't comply her greater intricacies. She was so hard to please sometimes.

The witch had the fucking nerve to smirk. "Nice one, Nott. But, you can do much better."

Theodore matched her smirk with one of his own. "Oh, I will. I want this to make yearbook."

"Then, you might want to see what your friend Zabini did."

"Said and done. I'm sure it isn't as extraordinary as what I'm going to capture with you."

"You say that, but you haven't delivered yet." Hermione laughed, shaking her head. For a moment Theo was lost in lost riotous curls and the mischievous curl of her lips. Her beautiful laughter rung pleasantly in his ears. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the taste of them. His skin grew hot from where their fingers touched, and they instantly curled into tight fists as his brow creased and he looked at her in another angle.

Crice, did she know just how gorgeous she was?

"Will you please move?" Hermione clearly didn't have time to play. She tossed the sheet back and Theo frowned.

He placed the photo into his back pocket along with his wand, eyeing the girl. "You know, that charm took me months to figure out."

"And, it'll take you months to figure out what the hell went wrong. Now, move."

Chuckling, Theo stepped aside. "See you soon, Granger."

"Don't count on it."

Before he could reply, she was gone. The only thing he had to remember her was the captured expression as she passed before him.

When the door to their classroom finally opened, Flint was the first to enter, along with several other unimportant faces. Theo slowly ambled inside, his eyes casted downward to ward off the pressing lights as they shone above him. He moved toward the back of the classroom, threw his belongings aside, and collapsed into the chair. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the wooden table, counting down the minutes before class would start, and how many more until his last one. God willing that he survived through Hogwarts' most boring of subjects. Professor Binns was notorious for putting students to eternal sleep.

"Christ, I don't know why you even bother with her," Marcus said as they walked.

"She's fun to tease," Theo smiled. "Her expressions are to die for."

"Well, you might want to be careful with that one. She's got a short fuse and if you press enough of her buttons, she might combust."

"I think that's part of the plan, eh?" He laughed. "Don't worry about it. I know when to stop."

"What is your obsession with taking photos?" murmured Marcus."I mean, I get it. It's a great outlet and all, but I think you're overdoing it. Granger's already told you multiple times that she hates being photographed, so why keep doing it?"

Theodore didn't answer right away. Instead, he let his memories answer for him.

Ever since the incident in the library, he's been hooked. And, for some inexplicable reason, it wasn't about taking pictures of her; it was about wanting to show her just how lovely and rare she was. He'd spent his entire life, an outcast from his family, an heir to a fortune that he didn't want, the son his father was ashamed of. It was like no one wanted anything to do with him, and, he would've been perfectly fine with that. Loneliness had gotten him through a whole list of things, that is until he met her. Enthusiastic wouldn't begin to describe her; she was so much like rain after a hundred years of endless, scorching heat. Refreshing and he was constantly desperate for it. And, then there was something so profound that he could hardly bear thinking about it, or even admit that the witch had gotten so far under his skin, that he actually found her irresistible. Forget desperate; one way or another, he was going to have her.

Hermione just so happened to be the perfect canvas for his outlet. It was getting her to see the potential that she could offer that he was having trouble with.

"I have to."

"Nothing is forcing you to do it, Nott."

Through the exhausting drilling in his head, Theodore was able to map out what happened after everything went black. He had been too complacent. Theo knew that Granger was too smart to listen to what he had to say, let alone go along with their bet. Though, a sudden thought occurred to him, something about what Flint had said. They hadn't shaken hands, just exchanged words to solidify their agreement. There was no Unbreakable Vow forcing them to comply. Not even a Dark Mark, the main thing behind the idiotic agreements that sent half of the Professors into fits. Circe knew he wasn't doing anything like that again, not after what happened last time with Snape.

The thing was, he loved being with her. There were times during patrolling that all he wanted to do was to push her in an enclave but something always forbid it. Some underlying message told him that he shouldn't do it.

Theodore rested his chin on the desk, deep in thought. The potion was finally kicking in, though in the back of his mind he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. God willing that Flint's potion actually worked and he lived, then he'd be more optimistic. Suppose she was willing to go through with it, he had to come up with something that would just dazzle her. Make her lost for words (and, knowing her brilliant mind, he might as well start the end of the world). The world would literally stop spinning. Hermione speechless, blimey. He'd die to see that, like he'd die to forget what Malfoy had done three weeks ago before their last term started. He really needed to start evaluating his friendship with Flint; he was more likely to kill him with his damn drugs than help him win Granger over. As he thought, something deep down snared his attention and he closed his eyes, momentarily forgetting his blasted headache and the deep numbness in his chest.

"That's true, but this is something I've got to do." he murmured softly.

"Whatever you're planning, Nott, Granger isn't like that," Marcus told him, his tone serious. "And, you're not the first who's tried to garner her attention. So, whatever you're planning, it would be best to just forget about it. I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"You think this is a joke?" Theodore sneered.

"Then, what the fuck is it?" Marcus retaliated with his own domineering snarl. His eyes paved the way to what he was feeling. "I've known you all my life, Teddy. You're no saint, and to lead some poor, innocent girl on is just as bad as committing murder.

"How do you know this?"

For once, Marcus looked genuinely concerned.

"Because she's told me," he finally told him. " Since fifth year, we've been partnered up for loads of stuff like balls and patrol. I've seen loads of blokes trying to win her over, but she never once fell for them. If she did, I wouldn't know. She's had a crush on Weslebee since second year and has been trying to garner his attention since then. Why girls always fall for the dumb ones is beyond me."

"The same goes for why they fall for the ones who has the means to kill them," mumbled Theo thoughtfully. He shook his head. "I know Granger isn't like that. She's… different. Illuminating, even. I just have to find the right angle to catch her."

"Is this some sort of weird photographer talk?" he asked. "You know how I feel about that shite."

"Maybe it is," he told him with a grin. "I just need to find the right light."

"Well, I'd be careful there, mate." Marcus murmured as he leaned back against his chair, looking ahead. "She's been hurt before, Teddy. Circe, she'd kill me if she found out I told anyone, but I know about it. Remember last year when Potter won the first Quidditch game and the Gryffindors were heard celebrating all night long? Well, she tried to find Weasley and when she did, well you can imagine what she stumbled upon. I don't think her heart can take being rejected, and for seventeen year-old girl, that naive sense of love still exists even now. I just don't want you to end up hurting her. She doesn't deserve it."

"Yea," Theo nodded, his thoughts whirling even as he came back to earth. The words only swirled around his mind, having no time to settle at all. "Yea, Flint. I'll keep that in mind."

"Thanks, Mate."

Then, everything was quiet.

Class went on without a hitch, and he was left to think.

Theodore was speechless.

Never did he imagine that the know-it-all bookworm could've been infatuated by the moron Weaselbee, but to find that he was secretly going out with the clueless swine Lavender Brown must have been devastating within its own right. Sure, love comes and goes, and Hermione must have found something admirable in him, but that didn't dissolve the sharp pain within his chest at the thought of someone leading Hermione on for so many years just to reject them in the worst possible way. For his best mate to even suggest that was what was going on made him mad. Inside, he was fuming. Weasley had the chance to show her just how valuable and precious she was, yet he didn't.

Marcus wasn't a horrible guy at all, he is only greatest asset was to be an ass, but he wouldn't lie to him. His words echoed in his head even after class ended and Theo was making his way to his next class.

Mental, absolutely and irrevocably mental, he thought.

In that moment, Theodore decided he'd be the one to show her.