Chapter 1
Theo stalked his way through the halls of Hogwarts, dodging students on his way. The air was thick with humidity, a sign of the upcoming summer, and the palpable excitement that came with the end of a long, arduous school year. His irritation growing, Theo approached a second-floor classroom and opened the door, sticking his head inside and scanning the room beyond. At the far end of the classroom, a dark-haired woman looked up from the hanging projector screen at her visitor.
"Hey, have you seen Hermione?" Theo called.
Shaking her head, Professor Diggory replied in a gentle Scottish accent. "Not since this morning. Is there something I can help you with?"
Theo shook his head and offered a tight smile as he retreated, closing the door behind him. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked for a signal again. Still no service. Theo released a frustrated growl and moved on, ducking his head into a handful of classrooms where he thought it most likely to find Hermione. No luck.
Theo continued searching for his elusive friend and colleague in Gryffindor Tower, a vast hall filled with hundreds of portraits. There was an enormous sense of mystery and intrigue about the sprawling castle hidden in the Scottish hinterlands. The air within its walls seemed to crackle with invisible energy, as though literal magic seems to exist inside its very foundation. Gryffindor Tower was famous for its optical illusions – a trick of the light often made the portrait subjects appear to be moving.
Hermione was once a school prefect and a proud Gryffindor, hence why Theo thought he might find her there. Theo was also a former Hogwarts student, the same year as Hermione. However, he was a Slytherin, as was his father before him. For reasons no one seemed to understand nor agree upon, there was a rivalry between all four Hogwarts houses but none so intense as that between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
When the Gryffindor common room came up short one Hermione Granger, Theo cursed aloud. He was close to giving up; if he couldn't find her in the staff residence, he'd return home to London without her. The staff residence was on the third floor of the main castle. It consisted of several sleeping quarters - each featuring a bedroom, an ensuite bathroom, a small living area, and a kitchenette - with a spacious and comfortable common room. The late afternoon sun streamed in through the common room windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the warm sandstone walls. A few other teachers were milling about, packing up their belongings for the imminent return home, others happily discussing their summer holiday plans.
Standing in the middle of the room, Theo turned and addressed the group. "Has anyone seen Hermione Granger?" he bellowed loudly, startling more than one person.
"I'm right here," came the reply. Theo turned and peered over the back of the sofa behind him. With her laptop perched on the coffee table, Hermione was leaning forward, browsing the internet. Her golden-brown curls were piled messily on top of her head, and she squinted through her black-rimmed glasses.
"How I often would I use a nut dish, do you think?" she asked, chewing a pen absently. She held up a finger to halt Theo. "Don't actually answer that."
"Hmm, you know me too well," Theo responded. "What are you doing?"
"My parents have already received some gifts from their friends, so I thought I'd save time by checking them off my gift registry," Hermione answered.
"And you actually registered for a nut dish?" Theo smirked, earning himself a glare.
"It's part of a set. Just imagine how lovely it would be to have beautiful silverware and crystalware on display at Christmas dinner."
"So lovely." Theo didn't bother to hide his derisory eye roll. Hermione's upcoming wedding was all he had heard about for the last ten months, and now she was dreaming of crystal tablescapes.
The door to the staff room suddenly opened, and Minerva McGonagall swept in, carrying a black leather folder.
"Oh, Miss Granger, I'm glad I caught you before you left. This arrived for you; heaven knows why Mr Filch didn't bring it to you himself." The deputy headmistress, wearing a seasonally unsuitable long black wool dress, glided over and handed Hermione a white embossed envelope. Turning it over, Hermione gasped aloud. From the Office of The Secretary of State for Education, the Right Honourable Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"It's from Shacklebolt!" she cried. Tearing open the envelope, she read aloud. "'Dear Miss Granger, thank you so much for the kind invitation to your wedding. Mrs Shacklebolt and I would love to attend and celebrate such a special day.'" She turned to McGonagall with a brilliant smile.
"That's lovely, dear," McGonagall replied, taking a seat in one of the nearby armchairs and opening her folder.
"Wonderful, just what this wedding needs. Another fucking ponce. As if the groom wasn't enough," Theo retorted, plopping himself down on the sofa beside Hermione.
"Language, Theodore," chided McGonagall. "While there are still students on the school grounds, I expect you to refrain."
Theo leaned forward, an impish grin spreading across his face. "Minerva, I will pay you three whole dollars if you say 'fuck' out loud, just once."
"That word has a time and a place, Nott, and in the context for which I use it, you will never hear it pass my lips," McGonagall replied dismissively, though her lip was curled in a smirk.
Still grinning, Hermione turned back to the screen in front of her. Her smile was short-lived, and she groaned in frustration.
"This bloody thing is so slow," she whined. "It's taking forever to load."
"It's because McGonagall keeps the good Wifi for herself," Theo said. "Probably for all the porn she likes to watch," he added in a stage-whisper.
"Theodore Nott!" McGonagall shrieked. Hermione reached over to smack him in the chest as the webpage finally flickered to life.
"Oh my Gosh, that is awful!" she squealed. Leaning toward the screen, Theo's face twisted in a sneer as they both stared at the hideous painting on the screen.
"Who the fuck gave you that?" he asked.
Hermione scrolled down. "It's from the woman that runs that gallery in Shoreditch," she announced tersely, her mouth twisting scornfully. "My father is still pretending to be interested in art like it's not obvious he's shagging her."
Theo opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Instead, he rubbed her arm sympathetically and stood up, stretching his long arms above his head with an emphatic groan. "Well, if it's all the same to you, I'm ready to get home and start my summer holiday. Since you're my lift, darling, hurry your arse up, please."
Hermione tucked her laptop into her bag with a final sigh and handed it to Theo. Theo shook his head as he shouldered the heavy leather bag. "To this day, I never know how you manage to fit so much shit inside this bag. It looks tiny."
"Must be magic," Hermione replied flippantly before turning to McGonagall. The older woman placed a kiss on Hermione's cheek and wrapped her in a hug.
"It's difficult to believe that this is your last day at Hogwarts," McGonagall said, her voice tinged with emotion. "You've made us so proud over the years."
"This has been my home for so long, and I'll miss it so much. But it's time to move on, have a fresh start," Hermione replied with a sad smile, squeezing McGonagall's hands.
McGonagall pulled her in for one final hug. "Take care of yourself, dear." As Hermione moved away to make her last goodbyes, McGonagall turned to Theo, who opened his arms. "Oh, don't be stupid."
"What? Don't I get a hug?" Theo's dark eyes glittered mischievously. "You won't see me all summer. You're going to miss me."
"The tears will dry."
"Ahh, come on, McG. Bring it in." Theo took a step towards McGonagall, his arms still outstretched. She delivered a swift whack to his arm with her black folder, but McGonagall was smiling affectionately. She would never tell him, but Theo Nott had been one of her favourite students and, now, one of her favourite colleagues.
Several minutes went by, and Theo was becoming keenly aware of the time.
"Come on, Hermione," he wheedled under his breath. Eventually, Hermione made her way over, wheeling her suitcase behind her and sniffling. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Finished the farewell tour, or have you got another lap in you?"
"Oh, shut up, let's go." Hermione wiped her damp cheeks as Theo called his goodbyes over his shoulder to the last remaining staff members in the room. Most of the students had long departed, and the halls were practically empty. Hermione listened as they descended the staircase in silence, her footsteps echoing around the cavernous entrance hall. Her mind raced back to her first day at Hogwarts. Hermione never forgot the feeling of exhilaration and awe the first time she saw those marble steps.
Hermione had known that she was different from a young age. While other girls played house with their dolls, Hermione was lining hers up in a pretend classroom with desks made from building blocks and books and teaching them history and arithmetic. To say she excelled at school would be to understate it. Hermione's school results caught the British education department's attention, who offered Hermione a place at the prestigious Hogwarts, a world-renowned boarding school.
She had stood on a small platform at Kings Cross Station with her parents, keenly observing the hundreds of other students gathering on the platform. The memory was so vivid; she could still hear the cacophony of sounds – train whistles, the shouts of goodbyes, the general hum of a busy station. A flash of icy blonde catching her attention as he walked by, a cool silver gaze holding hers.
Taking a seat inside one of the train's cosy compartments, she could see her parents on the platform. Hermione could recall her mother blowing a kiss, her molten-chocolate eyes so like Hermione's own glistening with tears, and her father waving proudly. His messy, golden-brown curls were fluttering in the wind created by the train's movement as it pulled away.
These days, memories of her father were accompanied by a dull pang. He was once Hermione's hero. Oh, how art the mighty fallen.
As they waited for the shuttle service to take them to Hogsmeade train station, Hermione took some time to cast one final glance at the castle and its surroundings.
"I'm going to miss this place," she murmured. Theo squinted into the fading sunset.
"You don't actually have to quit teaching just because you're getting married, you know. This isn't the 1940s," he remarked, lifting Hermione's bag from his shoulder and setting it down.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Hermione faced him. "We have been over this. I've been working non-stop for years, and I just want to be a wife for a while. Take some time to plan my next move."
"You've been a wife before, and it didn't stop you from teaching then," Theo reminded her.
"I swear to God, Theodore, if you bring that up one more time, I will fucking cut you," she snapped.
"Every time. It never fails," Theo chirped with a wicked grin, and it was all Hermione could do not to slam his head against the shuttle bus window.
Theo was an only child raised by a single abusive father after his mother's unfortunate death during childbirth. Raised was a dubious description; left to his own devices was more apt. An unsupervised Theo usually meant he made a nuisance of himself to varying degrees, depending on his level of boredom.
The senior Theodore Nott was a wealthy businessman with questionable connections. On the surface, it was all very legitimate, always seen to be rubbing shoulders with the right people and in all the right places. However, it was all a carefully constructed façade to conceal the truth: Theodore Nott Senior was a ruthless and shady businessman. He did the dirty work of a gangland overlord. Eventually, he was caught and convicted and was serving a long sentence in prison.
Determined to distance himself from his dodgy father's reputation, Theo kept his head down and his nose clean, throwing himself into his studies. He had been paired with Hermione for a class assignment in their second year at Hogwarts. Theo's intelligence had impressed Hermione, but it was his quick wit and enduring positivity that endeared him to her.
For most of her first year, Hermione had kept to herself, ostracised by the more popular girls for being 'too smart'. Theo customarily ran with the children of his father's associates. Still, he had taken Hermione under his wing after their assignment pairing. He introduced her to his group of friends, which included his childhood best friend.
Attending Hogwarts was a long-standing tradition among his father's social set. There was an unspoken expectation that Theo and the other children would follow suit. Among his father's inner circle was Lord and Lady Malfoy. Lucius and his wife Narcissa had only one child, Draco. Theo's best mate. Hermione's ex-husband.
If their marriage had been a wildfire, their divorce was a tsunami. It had torn Theo apart to witness the two people he loved most in the world be so at odds with one another. Theo stayed completely neutral, despite Draco and Hermione's exhaustive efforts to make him choose a side. Theo often proudly claimed to be the illegitimate child that both parties wanted sole custody of.
Two years on, Hermione's ill-fated first marriage remained a sore point for her. Other people's irritation, however, was Theo's sweet spot.
Hermione glowered at him for a moment before fixing her gaze steadfastly ahead. She remained stony-faced even once they were on the train back to London. Never one to be deterred by an apparent lack of disinterest, Theo carried on, prattling away as though he wasn't having a purely one-sided conversation. He knew she would concede eventually.
"Is everyone coming next weekend?" Nothing. "Do you also make the 'skrrt' sound effect when you go around corners on your wheelie desk chair, or are you normal?" Still nothing, or was that slight quirk of the lip? "What do you call a man with a tiny penis? Justin."
A reluctant laugh sputtered from Hermione's lips. "Jesus, Theo, that was terrible."
"It got you talking," Theo replied with a smirk, pleased with himself.
Hermione shook her head with a smile. Theo knew Hermione better than anyone. Almost anyone, she corrected herself. She could never stay mad at him for long, though she gave it a valiant effort every time.
"What else is there to organise before the party?" Theo asked. Hermione began rattling off a comprehensive list of preparations. Her week-long wedding celebrations would start with a his-and-her bachelor party the following weekend. Theo was happy to let her keep talking as it meant she was over her dummy spit, and he soon zoned out. Hermione could tell by his glazed eyes that she had lost his attention, but after more than fifteen years of friendship, she was not without her own Theo-branded tricks.
"You'll need to do something about your hair, obviously."
"Mmhm. What?" Theo's eyes cleared immediately. Too easy. With a deadpan expression, Hermione continued.
"I'm sure someone appreciates the 'Afghan hound caught in the rain' aesthetic you've committed to, but I'm not one of them. You need to fix it before the party. Or immediately."
"Honestly, Hermione. There's just no need to be so rude," he scoffed. "Nor should people in glass houses throw stones."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing, darling. Completely unrelated question, but do you think you'll ever stop using the hair from Mariah Carey's 1993 bikini wax strip as a wig?"
One of the other teachers who happened to be walking past the open compartment door at that moment stopped and regarded Theo with a horrified expression before quickly moving on. Hermione tipped her head back, cackling with laughter.
The train rolled on through undulating hills and green fields, the bucolic scenery soon giving way to a more urban landscape. The sunset had almost completely set when Hermione stood up and announced that she was going to the bathroom.
"Ones or twos?" Theo asked casually, only looking up from the bridal magazine he had retrieved from Hermione's bag when she didn't answer. He smiled gleefully when he met her eyes. "Woooow, I haven't seen you look that disgusted in a long time. Well done, me."
Hermione had not long left for the bathroom when her phone chimed from where she had left it on the seat. Content in knowing that a) Hermione wouldn't care if he looked at her phone and b) he didn't care if she cared or not, Theo leaned across and picked it up. A text message from Ron Weasley.
"Hey babe. I'll pick you and Nott up from the station at 9. Can't wait to see you, my sexy goddess. I've got a package waiting for you, and by a package, I mean mine."
Ugh, that's repulsive, Theo thought, tossing the phone back onto Hermione's vacant seat and returning his attention to the magazine. Hermione entered the compartment, sliding the door closed behind her. Taking a seat, she picked up her phone.
After a moment, she frowned. "Did Ron message me while I was in the bathroom?" Theo hummed in response, and Hermione's hands dropped to her lap. "How many times have I told you not to read my messages?"
"Now, how could I possibly be expected to remember something like that, Hermione?"
"You're an absolute toddler sometimes," she muttered, a blush pinking her cheeks as she read the message from her fiancé. She paused a moment and glanced over at Theo. "Are you okay with Ron giving you a lift home as well?"
Trick fucking question. "Yes, Hermione. I'll be fine. I love Ron. As long as he doesn't have any packages for me as well."
Theo did not love Ron. In fact, Theo found Ron to be as interesting as dry toast. Ron Weasley was also a former Hogwarts student, but they rarely interacted at school. To Ron's credit, he'd come from nothing and had made a good name for himself, working his way up from an entry-level clerk to an executive at an international petroleum conglomerate.
When the train arrived at the station, Hermione alighted first, running straight into Ron's waiting arms.
"Hey sexy," he grinned, kissing her deeply. "Did you miss me?"
"Hello, handsome," Hermione responded, her grin lighting up her face. "Terribly, but I'm much better now you're here."
Hermione was in love, and Theo was genuinely pleased to see her happy again. Ron absolutely worshipped the ground Hermione walked on, and Theo knew he'd take good care of her. That wasn't the problem.
The problem with Ron was that he was desperately hungry for fame and publicity, something that Hermione absolutely detested. Draco and Hermione had attracted an almost crippling amount of unwanted press whilst married, often featuring heavily in The Daily Prophet's society pages. They were young, attractive, successful and fiercely in love; the public couldn't get enough of 'Dramione'. The relentless pressure caused Hermione to grow mistrustful of the press, and after her highly publicised divorce, she went to great lengths to avoid the paparazzi.
Which was why it made no sense to Theo why Hermione would choose to marry someone who aspired to the same levels of fame and notoriety that she had tried to get away from. She hadn't suddenly become okay with the attention, as was evident by her reaction when she was immediately confronted by a series of bright flashes and shouts as she walked out of Kings Cross Station arm in arm with Ron.
"Shit!" Hermione seethed quietly to Theo, turning her face from view as Ron waved to the throng of paparazzi who had gathered for their arrival. "How did they even know we were here?"
One guess, Theo thought to himself.
"Smile, babe, they just want one picture," Ron remarked, smiling widely and waving. Hermione threw an urgent, pleading look over her shoulder to Theo, who immediately assumed his defensive position between Hermione and the cameras, deliberately blocking their view. Ron noticed Theo's stance and allowed Hermione to drag him away from the entrance toward the car. Once safely in the confines of his luxury sedan, Ron turned to Hermione and gripped her hand.
"They just want one photo, babe, that's all. Give them what they want, and they'll go away. Trust me," he said, kissing her knuckles before starting the engine.
"It doesn't work that way, Ron, trust me," Hermione reasoned, slumping low in her seat as he drove away, past the waning crowd of paparazzi. She turned to face Theo. "How could they possibly still be interested?" Theo answered with a shrug before Ron piped up.
"Well, you were a Malfoy, babe. They're one of the oldest families in England. And," he went on. "- I am becoming fairly well-recognized myself. It makes sense that the public is interested." Hermione didn't notice Theo giving the mother of all eye rolls in the backseat. She pulled her phone from her bag and ran a quick search.
"Look at this, Ron, a news article from three days ago talking about 'Geordie pop star's heartbreaking divorce' that happened a decade ago. And this one, 'Queen singer is spotted in steamy PDA display with new guy following split.'"
"What's wrong with that? It's what the people want to know," Ron insisted. "It's just the way things are, babe."
Babe. Theo thought that if he had to hear that word once more on the way home, he was going to spontaneously pitch himself out of the vehicle.
"Not if I have my way," Hermione declared forcefully.
Ron reached for her hand again. "It's not just about you anymore, remember? We're a team, babe."
"Okay, how much longer?" Theo asked loudly, startling Hermione, who recovered to look apologetically at her fiancé.
"I'm sorry, I know it's not just about me anymore. Yes, we are definitely a team, and you are my King, Mr Weasley."
Theo thumped his head dramatically against the backseat, and Hermione turned to glare at him. Too many minutes later, they were pulling up in front of the townhouse Theo and Hermione shared, though she planned to stay with Ron for the evening.
"Call you tomorrow." After helping Theo remove his luggage from Ron's car's boot, Hermione pressed up on her toes to kiss Theo's cheek.
"Have fun, babe," he mocked, a derisive look crossing his face when Hermione stared admonishingly at him. "I mean, honestly."
I'm back! If you're following me as an author or either of my stories, thank you. It means the world to me.
This story, like the last, is just a bit of fun. I love all the feedback I get and I've taken it on board for this story. I really hope you enjoy it.
Just some housekeeping: this story is set in a Muggle AU, no specific year though it is more current times. I don't own any of the characters herein because I am not JK Rowling (spoiler alert). I don't think there's going to be any smut in it, though this could well change as I continue writing, but they do have potty mouths.
Much love to all. Stay safe. xx