At noon on the dot, a knock on her office door made Hermione look up from her half-written memo. Theo Nott was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a wry smile.
"Good morning, Theodore," Hermione greeted as she tucked the memo into her drawer and stood up from her desk.
"Granger." Theo stepped to the side, allowing her to exit. "I've told you a million times to call me Theo."
She raised her chin in an air of faux aloofness as she collected her cloak and wand before following him out of her office. "And I've told you a million times to call me Hermione, Theodore."
"'Hermione Theodore' does have a nice ring to it." He gave her a cheeky wink.
Scoffing, she pushed lightly at his shoulder. "You're impossible, Theodore."
"Well, Hermione," he emphasised her name with a tilt of his head, leading the way as they strolled down the aisle of desks, out of the department, and towards the lift. "Have you just been dying of impatience to get to the case today?"
"Why, yes, Theo." As she walked, she slipped on her cloak and tucked her wand into her pocket. "Thank you for asking, I happen to love Nifflers."
His dark eyes flicked down to meet hers just before he pressed the button to call the lift. "I remember you telling me about that, something about the beak?"
"I'll have you know it's classified as a snout, and yes, I happen to think it's adorable."
He made a face, gesturing for her to step into the lift first. "It doesn't matter what you call it, it's still attached to a menace. Those things can clear out a vault in record time and are a terror to get out of your home. We had one sneak into the Manor when I was young and the little bugger kept breaking back in every time we got rid of him."
She gasped, holding a hand to her chest and looked up at Theo with a sympathetic gaze. "That must've been so difficult for you."
He paused, his eyes narrowing as the lift shifted, traveling upwards.
"I can't imagine," she continued, looking off into the non-existent distance and bracing herself to keep her balance. "You've been through so much, and at such a vulnerable age."
"Granger."
Sighing deeply, she shook her head. "Not many know that level of suffering, to be so incredibly wealthy with piles of gold and valuable objects in your family Manor that you are terrorized by a deviant Niffler."
Looking up at the ceiling he asked, "Why do I even bother with you?"
"Because you're a glutton for punishment, Theodore." She grinned, sauntering out of the lift as the doors opened.
She thought she heard him mutter, "Thought that much was obvious."
They continued towards the row of fireplaces designated for Ministry employees. A crowd had gathered in front of them and slowed their pace.
"How's the new flatmate working out?" Theo asked in a conversational tone, his eyes skimming over the group in front of them. "Does she leave dirty dishes in the sink?"
"He's not too bad." Hermione smiled. "Inheriting a flatmate was easier than finding my own, I suppose.
"Oh." Theo's head cocked, his fingers drumming against his thigh. "I didn't know your flatmate was a bloke."
She nodded, weaving around a trio that was standing in the walkway. "He's James' best mate. They grew up together and he actually owns the flat."
He hummed under his breath and they fell into silence as they walked.
"I read the case details a few times," she mentioned, glancing at Theo over her shoulder. He was a half-step behind her at all times, his wand holstered below his blazer and readily available in typical Auror fashion.
"I'd expect nothing less," he teased, a grin tugging at his lips. "I remember seeing you in the library at Hogwarts, surrounded by a dozen books at all times."
Dismissing his words with a scoff, she joined the queue for the fireplace. "I can't believe the offenders aren't being charged with more! They knowingly released a magical creature in crowds of Muggles with the intent to steal. They could have broken the International Statute of Secrecy if the Nifflers had been spotted!"
One by one employees disappeared into the flames.
"Not to mention using magic at the expense of Muggles. The only reason they were even caught is because they ran into a Muggleborn on holiday with his family and he called the Aurors. You know what? I'll write to Arthur Weasley, he helped pioneer the Muggle Protection Act and he would be appalled to hear how the rights of—"
"—Granger," Theo interrupted, giving her a look of amusement. "After you." He tossed a handful of powder into the fire and watched as it exploded into green flames.
She huffed, stepping into the fireplace, and Theo slipped in next to her. "Portobello Road."
"—Muggles are being ignored and only taken seriously when it impacts someone of magical descent," she finished with a scowl, as if he had never spoken.
They exited the hearth and walked into a crowded marketplace filled with stands and shoppers. The fireplace had been covered with a Disillusionment Charm, appearing to be a worn-down hat shop to any nearby Muggle.
"The arrests happened about an hour ago. Are you ready for extraction?" Theo's eye caught on a booth overflowing with flowers as they navigated through the crowd.
She coughed out a laugh, resting a hand on her beaded bag which bounced against her thigh with each step. "You make it sound so ominous; it's a standard procedure. I'm collecting the Nifflers and the department is donating them to Hagrid for the third years to study."
"Typical Gryffindor — you're far too confident for all the ways this could go wrong."
"Typical Slytherin," she retorted. "You shouldn't live your life in fear of what could go wrong, otherwise you'll miss what could've gone right if you'd only tried."
Her words seemed to have caught him off guard, and his eyes drifted over her, softening slightly.
"Well, here we are." He jerked his chin to an area blocked off by signs and Disillusioned to look like a tented office being fumigated. "Time to collect the little demons."
Hermione's arm disappeared into her bag, and she began pulling out glittering objects intended to lure the Nifflers out of hiding. "You know, not that I don't appreciate the company, but I didn't need an escort," she griped, stepping over the threshold into the building. "I'm perfectly capable on my own."
"Ministry policy," Theo explained with an unapologetic shrug. He began wandering the room, surveying it with a keen Auror's eye. "Plus, I knew my smiling face would brighten up your day."
With a roll of her eyes, she scattered the distractions on the floor. A rustling noise filled the room from every direction — the pillows on the armchair twitched, the desk drawer rattled, the curtain swayed with no breeze. Nifflers began to pop their heads out of their hiding places and hastily waddle towards the temptations in the center of the room.
"Immobulus!" Hermione flicked her wand and a jet of blue light filled the room, halting the Nifflers in various poses, all headed towards the same goal.
Setting her bag on the ground, she expanded the opening enough to unlatch the cage sitting at the bottom. She gently picked up each Niffler and placed them in her bag one by one. Theo was leaning against the wall with his hand tucked in his pocket, smiling as he watched her.
"Letting me do all the hard work with the menaces?" she asked, wiggling a frozen Niffler at him.
"Just learning from the expert."
As she closed the cage and latched it shut, a low rumble came from the closet just behind her. She turned, listening closer. "We missed one," she informed him, picking up a miniature disco ball from the floor and pulling the door open.
"Hermione, don't!" Theo jumped into action, running up behind her.
"What?" She turned to face him, hearing a gurgling noise followed by a white hot pain shooting up her right leg.
Theo leapt in front of her, covering his body with hers as he cast, "Stupefy!"
A cowering baby dragon collapsed in the closet, moments after blowing fire at Hermione and burning her calf.
"Ow! Shit!" She shifted her weight onto her left leg, examining her singed skirt hem and cloak. The burn had reddened her skin and was sensitive to the touch but hadn't severely damaged her flesh. "I'm not certified to collect and transport dragons. How did I miss that in the report?"
Theo's jaw clicked. "That's because it wasn't in the report," he replied, his voice tense. "I'm going to fucking kill Finnigan; he said he did a perimeter sweep."
"Oh, look at this poor little guy," she cooed, reaching down to pick up the unconscious dragon, no bigger than a small housecat. "He was just scared. It's not his fault. He's just a baby."
"Granger—Hermione—don't." Theo scooped it up and found an empty cage in the bag. "We need to get you ointment. I know a healer with a shop nearby; I can Apparate and be back in less than five minutes."
She slung her bag back over her shoulder and gingerly took a step forward. "I'm fine," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I have some at home and they'll only be stunned and immobile for a few hours. I have to get them to Hogwarts and this dragon just upped their charges to Class A—far worse than a few Nifflers pulling off a heist on tourists. They broke the laws against dragon breeding that were put in place by the Warlock's Convention of 1709."
Blocking her path, Theo dropped down to one knee to check her burn. "Fuck, that looks painful."
"I'm fine."
"Granger, for once, can you just listen to me? Hagrid can wait."
"I'm not going to waste valuable time when I have a job to do," she insisted, brushing past him and trying to suppress the urge to limp.
She was frustrated at his overreaction—she'd had worse burns with a Muggle flat iron before she learned how to use magic to calm her curls. She was a professional and not going to give up future opportunities to work in the field because of a single incident.
Theo let out a sound of frustration and caught up with her in a few long strides. "Let me carry you." His hand grazed against her hip before pulling back. "You shouldn't be walking on that."
"It's hardly an injury," she argued, wincing as she sidestepped a group of students who were shopping near the Disillusioned fireplaces. "I don't have to be carried."
"Potter is going to murder me," he mumbled under his breath.
"Potter doesn't have to find out," she tossed over her shoulder as she selected a handful of Floo Powder. "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts," she declared, watching Theo's distraught face fall into his hands as flames grew around her.
Hermione finished up delivering the Nifflers to an ecstatic Hagrid and completing a full report on the dragon before handing him over to the dragon handlers at the Ministry.
As a result, her day had run long and she was exhausted; her leg throbbed in pain with every step. Though she would never admit it, perhaps Theo had been right about receiving treatment before finishing up.
Immediately after stepping into the flat, she felt relief wash over her. She let out a deep exhale and her shoulders relaxed as she dropped her bag and cloak on the floor before stumbling down the hall. All she wanted was a tub of ointment, a bottle of wine, and a nap.
There was the sound of a shuffle followed by a call of "Flatmate!"
She suppressed a groan.
"You're home!" Sirius' head popped out of his room just in time to catch her mid-grimace. Eyes widening, he jumped forward. "What's with the face?"
"I'm fine." She put on a fake smile. "It's just my face. I'm tired, long day at work." Despite her best efforts, she winced again as she put pressure on her leg.
His eyes trailed down to her injured calf and he froze. "You're hurt."
Just then, the fire expanded, making the Floo crackle.
"Oh god." She threw her head back, sharing a look with Sirius. "Don't let him freak out."
"Don't let who—"
"A DRAGON?!" James Potter bellowed as he stormed through the living room and towards Hermione and Sirius. "Hermione Jean! You were attacked by a dragon and you refused medical care?"
Sirius' mouth dropped and, without hesitation, he hooked an arm under her shoulder and one under her legs, picking her up and carrying her back into the living room.
"Put me down!" She swatted at him. Her swinging leg bumped him and she cried out in pain.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do we do?" Sirius asked James, still holding a squirming Hermione as he turned around helplessly. "St. Mungos? Those twats don't know anything."
She groaned in annoyance, bunching the fabric of his shirt in her fist and tugging at it in a feeble attempt to get him to let go. "Why does everyone think they have to carry me?!"
Sirius paused long enough to ask, "Who tried to carry you?"
"Hermione, you should know proper protocol is to have any field injuries assessed back at the Ministry," James rambled as he hoisted her ankle up enough to inspect her burn. Sirius' hold on her tightened. "It's second degree at worst; you're lucky that you caught the end of the flame and not the entirety of it."
Grumbling under her breath, she scowled at James but didn't pull her leg away from him.
After pulling a tin of Murtlap Essence from his cloak, James began applying the thick paste to her leg, grumbling under his breath. "Fucking halfwit Finnegan, he's lucky he only has desk duty for this. Should've sent him to clean the shit out of the Blast-Ended Skrewt's cage."
The salve tingled and cooled her skin, immediately taking effect, and she felt herself relax into Sirius' arms.
James gave Sirius a look. "You can put her down now." The two maintained tense eye contact for a beat before Sirius lowered her onto the sofa as if she were made of glass.
"So you listen to him," she grumbled, folding her arms as she laid her head back on one of their throw pillows.
"You're lucky I didn't tell Remus," James added, tutting under his breath in disapproval. "You think I'm being tough? He would've given you more of a lecture than you'd ever get from me."
She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "Please don't tell Remus. I still remember the lecture of '93 that lasted—"
"—four hours." James sighed, his head falling forward and his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm glad you're safe, I was so—"
"—worried. I know, I know." Her voice was soft. "But you didn't have to worry. I'm fine. I'm not a kid anymore."
"I know you're not. If you were, you would've actually listened to me." James pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his green eyes sparkling and reminding her of Harry.
She reached out and took his hand, giving a squeeze. "I'm sorry you worried. I promise I'll be more careful next time."
Leaning forward, James placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. "You better. I shouldn't have to hear this kind of thing from a memo at work. You nearly gave me a heart attack tonight." He sighed. "You kids are going to age me so quickly."
Sirius opened his mouth with a grin and Hermione swatted at him, silently telling him not to say what she knew he had been thinking.
Dropping the tin on the end table, James headed back to the fireplace. He paused just before stepping over the threshold and looked back. "You'll call if you need anything?"
"I swear on my heart," she declared, waving her hand over her chest in the way James and Remus had taught her as a child.
Finally, he smiled, repeating the motion over his own heart before being enveloped in the emerald fire.
After the last ember disappeared from the fireplace, Sirius turned to her with his arms crossed.
"What?" she grumbled. "I don't need another lecture."
"I can't believe you got to play with a dragon today and you didn't even bring me!" he lamented, lifting her legs carefully and sitting on the sofa, letting her calves rest across his lap. "You want to know what I did today? I was so bored I nearly read"—he turned to her, lowering his voice in horror—"for fun."
Hermione let out an inelegant snort, looking unimpressed. "You don't have to sound so repulsed by a book. I have a few I could recommend to you if circumstances become dire. Perhaps I'm rubbing off on you."
"How about I order us takeaway, open a bottle of wine, and you can tell me all about your day with the dragon?"
Her hand flew to her stomach, which was only a minute away from growling with rumbles of hunger. "Don't tempt me. I want to eat an order of everything."
His lips twitched into a smirk. "Done. And I have to say, Starling, I find I'm quite fond of the idea of you rubbing on me."
"—off on you," she corrected, biting back a laugh. "Go order supper."
Two failed attempts at dialing his mobile and twenty minutes later, they were sitting on the floor of their living room, half a dozen boxes of Chinese food open between them.
"You do realise that James is going to try to tag along as your Auror escort from now on, don't you?" Sirius stabbed at a piece of broccoli with his chopstick before popping it in his mouth.
Hermione shrugged, splitting her egg roll in half and handing a piece to him. "Doesn't matter if he wants to. He's too advanced in his rank for field work. Plus, I had a perfectly fine escort today." She glared at the incredulous scoff that Sirius made in response to her declaration. "What? It's not his fault the Aurors before him missed a dragon in a closet."
"Sounds bloody incompetant to me. James should fire the whole lot, overthrow the Ministry. I'll be glad to take it over."
"Sirius Black, you will not stage a coup! We are far too busy to run a government. We still have to watch all the Star Wars before the new one comes out next year."
With a soft sound of agreement, he replied, "You make a good point. We are rather overcommitted at the moment. Perhaps next year."
"If you overthrow the government, you're the one doing the paperwork."
"Blah. That's unnecessary. Paperwork will be illegal in the new world."
She held out her hand expectantly and they swapped containers of food, his sweet and sour chicken for her chow mein.
"You run a hard negotiation," he declared, struggling to gather the noodles with his chopsticks, "but I'm a reasonable man and willing to compromise. After the next Star Wars, we can overthrow the Ministry."
"And the sequel to the Titanic," she added, ducking her head to hide her grin as she took another bite of chicken, wondering if he would realise there would never be a sequel.
He paused before conceding, "Fine, but then we have to do it or we are going to sit around and get old like Prongs and Moony without having any treason along the way and that simply will not do."
"That would be utterly disgraceful." She scrunched her nose with a smile, resting her utensils in the box and placing it on the ground beside her. "Thank you, this was just what I needed after today."
His eyes snapped down to her lower leg, but the pink burn was nearly gone. "I think you did more damage to James' old man heart than you did to your skin."
"He's hardly old."
"You youngins just don't understand," he sighed, his shaggy hair flipping around as he shook his head.
Hermione took a drink of her wine, pleased that it was her favourite bottle. She listed off one by one, "I'm older than you, my first pet was a rock named Pebbles, and I went blonde for a year after Hogwarts."
With a mischievous grin, he declared, "You have got to be the worst at this game. The lie is that you're older than me, obviously."
A bright peal of laughter escaped at his confidence. "Are you absolutely sure?"
His hand reached up and he gently wrapped one of her curls around his finger, twisting the lock once before releasing it. "I can't imagine you with blonde hair. It wouldn't feel like you."
Lifting his glass of wine, she pressed it into his hands. "Drink up."
"No, you only drink if you guess incorrectly."
The corner of her lip quirked as she took his hand and tried to wrap his fingers around the glass. "So, drink."
"You're not older than me!" His tone was accusatory and he refused to take the wine glass from her.
"So, funny you should say that. I've been doing the math." She set the wine down in front of him.
"I hate math," he grumbled before taking the glass and raising it for a drink. He paused with the rim against his lips. "I'm doing this because I'm thirsty and not because you're right."
Cocking her glass, she continued, "According to the math, I'm actually older than you."
"You are not."
"Your body is twenty-one years and eleven months old, accounting for the time jump. I just turned twenty-two," she informed him with a smirk.
Sirius' eyes widened as his brows shot up into his hairline; his fingers moved up one by one as if he were mentally counting. "Oh, you sly little witch. You did the math just to get back at me for being a prat, didn't you?"
With a playful glint in her eyes, she replied, "I told you not to call me 'little witch' anymore, Sirius. You really should learn to listen to your elders."
"Why are you like this?"
Sipping at her wine she wiggled her brows at him. "You'll understand one day when you're my age."
The proud grin on his face made her chest bloom with warmth. "I've created a monster."
With a slight shrug and a flirtatious wink, she replied, "Would you look at that? You must be rubbing off on me too."