Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. I just like to do inappropriate things with her characters.
Chapter 2 - Just Like Everyone Else
As it turned out, Theo didn't have to think up an excuse to drop in on Granger, because she came to him.
He'd returned from his meeting with Blaise to find that Pansy had already packed her things. Their parting had been amicable up until she'd hissed venomously that she didn't need anything from him because she was in love (with the bloody fucking Weasel, of all people), and he'd refrained from snapping that she sounded like a sappy fucking Hufflepuff, even though she did. Frankly, he appreciated the lack of drama, though Pansy had never been the drama queen of their class; that honor had been divided evenly between Potter and Malfoy.
It was three days before he thought of Hermione, and even then it was only because his secretary informed him that a Ms Granger had come by to see him just as he was getting ready to leave for lunch. Against his better judgment, he gave in to curiosity and invited her to lunch with him. The indecision on her face at his invitation reminded him keenly of when he used to watch her back in school (which annoyed him because it meant that Blaise was right, the arrogant bastard), but she ended up accepting, and he took her to a small cafe tucked away in Muggle London. It was the kind of place where no one would look at them too closely, or ask too many questions, the kind of place where they could pretend to be just like everyone else.
Once they'd placed their orders, she dispensed with even the pretense of small talk. "I need your help."
"Asking a Slytherin for help? What would your nearest and dearest say?" He knew it was childish and petty to bring up such trivial things as old House rivalries when they were two decades removed from the halls of Hogwarts, but he couldn't resist baiting her.
Her eyes narrowed, the annoyance clear on her face. "I don't care. I can't ask anyone else, and I'd like to think we're old enough to have moved past such things as how we were Sorted, given how long it's been."
In spite of himself, Theo was impressed that she'd pegged him so neatly. Assuming a more businesslike manner, he gave her a curt nod. "Well spoken. What can I do for you?"
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, the indecision back on her face. "I was hoping you could refer me to your solicitor." He'd half expected as much, but before he could say anything she continued, "I don't... We don't have very many assets, and it's never been an issue, anyway, I can take care of myself. It's about the children."
Strange that he'd forgotten that she and the Weasel had spawn. On some level, he'd been aware of it, of course, the birth announcements had been prominently displayed in the paper in much the same manner as Potter's whelps, but his rational brain had trouble reconciling the image of the bushy-haired bookworm with the idea of maternity. He cleared his throat, waited for the waitress to leave their meals, and then asked, his voice perfectly civil, "What about the children?" All the while trying to remember how many brats she had.
"Ronald wants them." She was looking down at her plate, and Theo paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, watching her. Her eyes lifted, displaying openly her worry and sadness and regret and hurt, and he had the irrational urge to rip the Weasel apart with his bare hands for doing this to her. "He's trying to have me declared an unfit mother, says that he and Pansy can do a better job of raising them." The words spilled out, one after the other, the Gryffindor tendency to provide entirely too much information, and Theo was still too stunned by her first sentence to interrupt her. "I've cut back my hours at the Ministry, even though Rose is at Hogwarts and Hugo's old enough he doesn't need to be babied every second of the day. It's bad enough he left me for her, bad enough I didn't even know that there was anything going on, but I can't let him have my babies, I just can't."
Theo tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it across the table, ate the bite of food that was on his fork, then fished Blaise's card from another pocket, holding it out to her as she dabbed at the tears on her face. "Blaise Zabini. He's the best there is, he's handled all of my legal affairs since we graduated."
It took her several minutes to calm down enough to take the card, and she looked doubtful. "I don't know if I can afford this." Clearly, Blaise's reputation preceded him.
"Don't worry about it," Theo said, with a wave of his hand. "I have it on very good authority that he's more than willing to take your case."
Her eyes narrowed again, this time with suspicion. "Have you been talking about me behind my back, Mr. Nott?"
Theo rolled his eyes and snorted. "Theo, please. He might have dropped your name the other day when I was having my divorce papers drafted. I believe what he said was that he'd be glad of an opportunity to rip into the Weasel, and for you he'd do it for free."
She pursed her lips in what he thought might be disapproval at the old nickname, but then she smiled, and he found himself rather disturbed by how that smile made him feel. "Weasel, indeed." Tucking the card away, she turned her attention back to her food.
Something she'd said nagged at him, and Theo frowned for a moment before venturing to ask, "So, you didn't know?"
Her expression fell to pieces, and he could have kicked himself for having been the cause of more distress. "I didn't know," she said, quietly. When she looked up at him again, he could see the hurt clearly in her eyes, and again wanted to hex the Weasel into oblivion. "Is it pathetic that I still love him?'
Yes. "Not at all," Theo lied smoothly, reaching across the table to pat her hand. Electricity sparked between them, or at least it did in his fevered imagination; he guessed by her lack of reaction that it had only been in his head. "Are you still in the house?"
She shook her head, her expression so sweetly vulnerable that he was starting to feel like a bloody Gryffindor. "I left, with Hugo, the night he brought her home. I should have kicked him out, I know, but I was too hurt and too angry and too shocked to get into the fight he was expecting, so I ran." Her lips curved into a faintly rueful smile. "We've been staying with my parents. It's the only place I could think of where he had no way to get to us. I know it's not very Gryffindor of me to just run and hide, but I'm still trying to deal with how everything just fell apart."
"It's understandable." It was odd to see her so unsure of herself, and he vowed to himself that he'd make sure the Weasel paid, one way or another. In blood, if necessary. He cleared his throat, tried to maintain a more professional state of mind, but it was harder than he'd ever have expected. "You know, it might help your case if you had a place of your own. Rather than relying on your parents, I mean. Proof that you can support yourself and your children."
"I know." She was picking at her food without eating it, and Theo had the feeling she was as lacking in appetite as he was. "I don't know where to even begin looking, though."
Silence, for half a minute, and then Theo found himself saying, "I have a place." She looked at him sharply, suspicious all over again, and he raised both hands in what he hoped was a placating gesture. "Not like that. Strictly a business arrangement. My company's acquired some property recently here in town, it's been vacant for a while so it's a bit of a mess, but there's some historical value involved, and quite the collection of books, from what I've been told."
The word 'books' had her eyes lighting up like a child at Christmas. "Books?" The eager expression on her face had him thinking thoughts that were in no way whatsoever appropriate, and he tried desperately to refocus on the issue at hand.
"Among other things, yes. The main quarters are livable, but there's a fair amount of cleaning and other work to be done. Will that be a problem?" he asked, since she was chewing her lip again.
"I'm not really much for domestic charms," she said, slowly.
Fishing in his pocket for one of his own business cards, Theo handed it to her. "Think about it. If the cleaning is an issue, there are outside sources I can bring in, which would put you in more of a supervisory capacity. The books will still need to be sorted and inventoried, and there may be some additional artifacts, as well. I'm scheduled to do a walk-through tomorrow afternoon, you're welcome to come along if you like." He glanced at his watch, then signaled the waitress to bring the check.
Hermione turned his card over in her hands, then set it carefully on the table, and Theo felt a stab of disappointment. Then she looked up at him again, and he realized he was being premature, because he recognized her expression immediately: she'd made up her mind. "I'll do it."