Chapter Four

Hermione weaved her way through the horde of students as she made her way to the library, where she was to meet Theodore Nott in just a few minutes to study their assigned potions. It was odd that this was the first time since the start of fall term - and quite some time before that - she had been there, though her feet had no problem walking the familiar path. She furrowed her brow as she tried to recall the last time she had stepped foot in the library, but was unsuccessful. This caused the witch some distress, as it was her favorite place in the castle. Before, at least.

As her destination neared, she spotted Nott just outside of the door.

"Ah, just as I expected. Here you are, no less than ten minutes early." Nott chuckled at her as she approached.

Hermione smiled at him, "Nott. I'm not surprised you're early as well."

From an outside viewpoint, the exchange between the two would seem rather strange. Theodore Nott, the son of an infamously cruel Death Eater, and Hermione Granger, War Heroine. What could the two of them possibly have in common?

"Shall we head in then?" The dark haired wizard inclined his head toward the inside of the library.

Hermione nodded and followed as he lead them through to their table.

As she walked along, Hermione reminisced about when she had first met Theodore Nott. It was their fourth year at Hogwarts, just as the Triwizard Tournament was about to commence. Both Ron and Harry were so invested in the tournament that they allowed their academics to be pushed to the side, but Hermione was just as dedicated a student as ever. She could recall seeing the Slytherin in the library during the years before, but she never dared to speak to him. She smiled inwardly as she thought about their first encounter.

Hermione Granger was seated at a table near the middle of the library, engaged in revisions for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had just finished tutoring other fourth years about some of the long-term consequences of the three Unforgivable curses. The other students had left for supper, but Hermione was too interested in her study material.

Theodore Nott approached her table, and watched as she was leaned over her textbook, completely consumed by information. He had of course always noticed the Gryffindor, as she was always first in their class. Nott was third, behind her and Draco Malfoy.

"Pardon me. Granger?" Nott queried as he approached her table, knowing full well who she was, but not wanting to seem presumptuous.

Hermione looked up, her eyes full of confusion as she stared at the wizard before her.

"Yes. Nott?" She responded the same way.

"I was wondering if I may join you. I have some questions about the Defense homework, and could really use your assistance."

Nott noticed how she seemed to hesitate at his request. He felt relieved when she offered him a small smile and nodded for him to have a seat at her table.

Hermione felt a small moment of pride at how easily the memory had come to her. Since the War, she had a problem with recalling moments of her life, especially since most of them came with some bit of sadness.

The two of them found a quiet table near the back of the library and took their seats across from one another. Once seated, materials were being retrieved from their bags. Hermione carefully placed some parchment, her copy of Advanced Potion Making, quill, and inkwell before her. The pair of them turned to the potion they decided to work with first, Draught of Living Death. Just as Hermione was about to open the discussion, she was rudely interrupted by an intruder approaching.

"Theo!" A male voice called out, rather loudly, considering they were in the library.

Nott turned around in his seat as Hermione peered around him to see none other than Draco Malfoy charging towards their table. Malfoy must have been unaware that the witch was there, as his face showed a little surprise when he caught a glimpse of her. His angry pace was quickly replaced with a nonchalant traipse, and his face turned stone cold.

"Draco!" Nott called back, in a rather annoyingly cheerful voice.

Malfoy approached the table, and in a much lower voice, acknowledged Hermione's presence. "Granger," he nodded at her.

"Malfoy."

"Excuse the interruption, but I was wondering if I may have a word with Nott."

Hermione shrugged at him and returned to her reading. Nott excused himself from the table and joined the other wizard. As soon as their backs were turned, Hermione looked up to watch their retreating forms. They were only a couple of steps from where she sat, but it was far enough for her to not be able to eavesdrop. She looked on while they began to engage in a hushed conversation.

The young witch looked at Malfoy. Today, he had a strong stance. His back was straight, shoulders squared, and chin held high. It was hard for her to believe that she had witnessed him in such a vulnerable state just a week ago. The Malfoy she was looking at now, with a sort of arrogant confidence about him, was the Malfoy she had known during all of her years at Hogwarts.

Hermione thought back to the previous week, when she had walked in on Malfoy mid-anxiety attack. It was curious to her that he even had anxiety. She couldn't recall any point since she had known him, where he had displayed even a single hint of having it. But then again, it was Malfoy. He never would have shown any if he were able to help it.

In the back of her mind, she had a nagging feeling of sympathy for the wizard. She knew all too well how it felt to be at the mercy of an anxiety attack. The muggle born had suffered more than a fair few, especially following the War. It wasn't something that could be helped, and she knew that. There was nothing in this world more terrifying than to lose all control.

Tilting her head to the side as she continued analyzing the blond wizard, she never considered what Malfoy had gone through during the war. Even if he fought for the opposite side, it couldn't have been easy for him. He was too young for the bloodshed that had occurred recently, just as she was. If she were being honest, she didn't think he would mind any of it at all, considering the main problem they were fighting for: Terminating wizards and witches like her, set on the idea that they were not pure enough to set foot in the Wizarding World.

There was no way he could've changed his mind since then. How he felt about her was no surprise to others around her and she just knew - knew - he was still the bigoted prat she knew through the years she attended Hogwarts with the ferret. She was positive he didn't get his attacks from terrors of the war - his side caused it! It must run deeper than that. Maybe his father? After all, the elder Malfoy had gotten off easily with being on house arrest and not being able to use a wand for five years, not stepping a foot in Azkaban which was pretty damn lucky on his end. It couldn't have been his mother. She got off scot free with only serving six months on house arrest without her wand. After she saved Harry and all, of course, she was going to get off without serving time. She was married to a Death Eater, and even though she didn't bear the Mark, that didn't mean she wasn't as bigoted as the rest of them.

Hermione looked down at her left arm where she knew where that disgusting brand sat. The one she got from the War in Malfoy Manor. She itched to run her fingers over it, but decided against it. She knew if she kept pretending it wasn't there, she was never going to overcome her demons haunting her every time she thought of it. She wasn't embarrassed of the slur - she was proud to be muggle-born - not at all, just the memories that came with it.

Thinking back to the trials, Hermione didn't exactly know why she defended the matriarch and her son against serving time in Azkaban. It could have been Harry, determined to defend them and her wanting to stand by her best friend, or it could have been facing her fears that had happened in their home that night and the Malfoys not doing anything but stand there, horror written all over their faces. But she knew the truth was that some small part of her thought that the youngest Malfoy deserved a second chance. Maybe, just maybe, he'll do it the right way the second time around.

Even though Malfoy detested her, she didn't have no quarrels with the blonde ferret. If she was going to move forward and make the Wizarding World a better place, she wasn't going to start acting like him and ban him for his horrible mistakes. She was better than that. She didn't have to talk to him, but she wasn't going to cause him any more grief than what she knew he was already facing. It also didn't mean she was going to become best mates with him either.

Hermione rolled her eyes internally. If she was going to be civil - civil, as in avoiding him - she should probably stop calling him names in her head. Even if she didn't speak them aloud, she still found a way to feel guilty about it. She didn't know how he was now. He didn't seem like his old self and like she thought earlier, there was hope for him after all.

"You alright, Hermione?"

Looking up, she found Theo sitting before her like he had never walked off to speak to his friend. She furrowed her brow, staring at him. "How long have you been sitting there?"

Shrugging, Theo took out his notes. "Not long, but long enough to watch you space off." He looked up, "What was that about anyway?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered, too fast for her liking.

Theo snorted. "You've always been a shite liar."

"And you've always been annoying." She snipped back.

Chuckling, Theo shook his head. "So defensive. Relax, Hermione. I'm only joshing."

"You're always joshing, Theo." Smiled Hermione, trying her hardest to fight back her laugh.

No matter what situation she found herself in, it was easy for Theo to make her laugh and forget about her worries. When she realized that they would be partners in Potions, she didn't know how lucky she was to not end up with Neville or Padma - too many questions and too close for comfort, that she couldn't deal with on top of everything else she was already worried about - or even Parkinson or Malfoy. How awkward that would've been if she was partnered with two of the arsehats who called her nasty names for the most part of their years at Hogwarts. Talking to Theo that first day they were paired brought back happy memories of them working together secretly and gossiping like old nannies. It felt good to laugh carefree for a little and just… forget. Even if it was just for a moment.

Hermione watched as Theo's eyes lit up, giving her a lopsided grin. "You called me Theo. You haven't done that since," he sighed, "I don't know, sixth year?"

With that said, Hermione shut down, her face going blank, her eyes dull. She lost herself for a moment and cursed herself for letting that happen. She wasn't supposed to be laughing and catching up with a friend. She wasn't supposed to forget - ever - what the war had done to her. What it had taken from her.

How could she ever enjoy life knowing it would never be the same? Was it even possible for her to ever move on and try to be happy? Bloody unlikely. She couldn't stand to even look at herself in the mirror, let alone continue to breath after the things she'd lost, the constant it's all your fault running through her mind like a mantra.

Closing her eyes, that feeling of disgust she was often too familiar with, crashed through her in an instant. Her willpower to move forward with her life vanished and all she felt like doing at the moment was to curl into a small ball and waste away.

It wasn't like Hermione to give up all hope and just… be. She couldn't stand to think this was her life now. To move forward emotionless and nothing to live for. Every smile she gave and every laugh she shared with others seemed like the worst betrayal and she couldn't fathom doing exactly that.

"Hermione-"

Shaking her head, she opened her Potions text and grabbed her quill, ready to jot notes down on the ingredients they needed to brew Draught of Living Death, for further research. She sighed as she began to make the list: Infusion of wormwood, Valerian root, a sopophorous bean… Finally looking up to meet Theo's eyes, she tried not to let the tears gather. "Please, Theo. Not now." She cleared her throat, dipping her quill into her inkwell. "How should we start this, hm?"

She didn't bother to look up as Theo began to get his things ready to take notes. He set his inkwell near hers and cleared his throat. "I have a cauldron we can use for the best results. It's pure gold, standard size." He paused and Hermione tried her best not to look at him, lest she smiled. "No need to worry if we burn a hole through it if that matters at all."

Not being able to stop herself, she set her quill down and finally looked him in the eyes, her lip twitching. "Did you ask Professor Slughorn if it was okay to use this pure gold cauldron?"

Scoffing, Theo threw his quill on top of his Potions text and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you really think I would mention the damned thing if I didn't ask?"

Lifting a brow at his foolish behavior, Theo finally huffed, jutting out his bottom lip. "Okay, you're right. But honestly, do you see old Sluggy turning down the suggestion of us using our own cauldron to brew a bloody complicated potion? I think not."

Shaking her head, Hermione picked up her quill and continued to write down the ingredients they needed. "Still, Theo, if you don't ask and we use your special cauldron-"

"-hey! I didn't say it was special."

"-he might make us redo the whole thing and it will upset me greatly if we have to start from the beginning." Finished Hermione, not minding at all that Theo tried to interrupt her.

"I'll ask him as soon as I head down for supper. Good enough?" Asked Theo quietly, already lost in his text, no doubt reading all about the potion they were preparing to brew.

Smiling, she looked at her own text and her smile disappeared as she remembered that this concoction was exactly the one Harry brewed to win the vial of Liquid Luck - not fairly, far from it - in their sixth year. Oh, how she was so furious when he easily brewed Draught of Living Death. Not that she knew what she would've done with the Felix potion if she won it, saving it would have sufficed, but still, it hurt her pride to know she was bested by her best friend who didn't even try.

Thank goodness he was cheating the whole time and Hermione wasn't a failure after all. Even if Harry didn't have the book to teach him how to brew the complicated potion, she still would have failed. She shuddered just thinking about it and until this very second, she still didn't know what she was missing because she still couldn't brew the bloody thing.

Brightest Witch my arse.

Hermione stopped writing the list of ingredients they needed and began to panic. What if she failed brewing the potion again? She wasn't too confident in succeeding.

"You alright there?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, she faced Theo, knowing she looked a little pale. Hell, she felt the blood drain from her face. "What if we fail?"

Chuckling, Theo set his quill down and looked at her. "You're serious."

Giving him a withering look, she huffed. "Of course, I'm serious. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Our Age, do you even know the definition of failure?"

Smiling softly, Hermione sighed wistfully. "Remember in sixth year when Slughorn had us brew this same potion?"

Tilting his head, Theo nodded. "Everyone failed." He snorted, "besides Potter." He stopped, his face clearing for a moment. "Oh."

"My sentiments exactly." Said Hermione rolling her eyes dramatically at Theo's expression. "We need to be mindful of what we're doing and try to think of ways to get more out of the ingredients we're using. I'm still not sure if I can brew this correctly."

"We'll be fine. Didn't Potter give you tips on how to brew it?" Asked Theo as he tapped his chin in thinking.

Hermione nodded. "Some. But even with them, Merlin, I thought my mind was going to explode."

"Tell me about it."

She looked up and smiled. A memory suddenly came to her and she bit back a laugh. "Remember your reaction to the Slug Club?"

"That was not funny, you arse. I was in tears," Theo responded rather bitterly, glancing sideways at the witch.

"Literally!" Laughed Hermione.

"Oh, really now? How about that time you came hiding in the library asking me to cover for you? Who was it you were hiding from again?" Teased Theo.

Covering her mouth as she gasped from laughter, Hermione reached over the table and swat his arm. "Don't you dare, Theodore Thoros Nott!"

"Cormac Mclaggen, wasn't it?" Theo asked through fits of laughter. "You- You had to hide-"

Hermione reached over to cover his mouth, laughing the whole time as he began to swat her hand away. "Theo, I'm warning you!" She tittered as she continued to reach over the table to get to him.

"-Under the table, begging me to cover for you!" Theo guffawed, trying to catch his breath. "What was it you said?" He asked through bouts of laughter.

Hermione stopped and covered her face as she continued to giggle through her hands. "You're the worst." Her shoulders shaking from the laughter she still couldn't suppress.

"'I will hex your dick off, Theodore Nott, and shove the blasted thing so far down your throat, you won't be able to speak for a month as you spit out your own semen!'" Mocked Theo in proper Hermione fashion.

Throwing her head back, she couldn't help the loud girlish laugh that left her mouth. "You're lucky I didn't go through with that threat."

"Merlin you were scary. Still are." Theo smiled at her. "You're lucky we were friends by then or I would've ratted you out."

Hermione calmed down and gave him a genuine smile. "We did become great friends, didn't we?"

"The greatest." Grinned Theo, taking her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked down to their hands, unable to look away. "You were always there for me, Hermione. Without explanation, you were always there."

Squeezing his hand back, she smiled. "Don't forget you were there for me as well." She chuckled, "and to think, our friendship happened in fourth year in this library."

"Let me be there now." Said Theo, grabbing her hand a little tighter so she wouldn't pull back, making eye contact, ignoring the last bit of her sentence. "Let me be that brother you always thought of me as, Hermione. Please. Let me take care of you."

That look. It was the same look he gave her when she cried to him about Ron, telling him everything. It was in his eyes, that raw emotion of anger for her, sorrow and something else she still wasn't able to place til this day. Pity? Despair? She wasn't quite sure.

Pulling her hand back, she shook her head. "I don't know what you're-"

"Don't lie to me, Hermione. We promised each other along time ago to never tell lies." Theo said, his body tense.

"There's nothing to talk about, Theo." She sighed as she began to put her stuff away. "It's late. We'll meet up tomorrow? Find a place where we can brew these potions?"

Ignoring what she said completely, Theo stood up from his seat and walked over to her side of the table, kneeling beside her as he took her hand. "You need to talk about what happened. You need to let it out or you're going to drown in despair and you won't be able to come back up for air, Hermione. I won't let you crash and burn. I can't watch the light from your eyes slowly dissipate or you walking around like some zombie that doesn't have a reason to live any more. That isn't who you are."

Hermione slowly cupped his cheek, biting her bottom lip as she really looked at her friend. He looked to be in pain. His face was scrunched up, his eyes sad and red. He had his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. This is what it looked like when someone really cared about another. The same look Harry would give her when he was worried, Ron too. It was a shame they couldn't broadcast their friendship back then and it still was that they couldn't do it now. Friends. She didn't need any more. She thought she did, but now? She couldn't bare it if something ever happened to anyone whoever came close to her. Not again.

"I'm fine, Theo." She gave him a watery smile. "There's nothing to talk about. You needn't worry, I promise."

Before he could say more on the subject, she grabbed the strap of her bag and hauled it up her shoulder. As Theo stood, she turned and gave him a quick hug and not a second later did she feel him embrace her back. A little too tight, but it was a little comforting. Reminding her she wasn't alone. But, she couldn't drag him down with her. She wouldn't. Pulling away, she gave him a curt nod, making her way towards the library doors.

"I'm not going to leave you alone, Hermione!" Theo yelled from behind her as she continued her way out of the library.

Smiling to herself a little, she shook her head. "We'll see about that, Theo." She called back, not once turning back.

Once she made it to the doors of the library, Hermione took in a deep breath and made her way to the Great Hall for dinner. She was more than thankful that Luna had been sitting with her when they took their meals. As much as Hermione didn't want to admit it, it sucked to be alone all the time.