Marriage in the wizarding world was staggeringly different than in the muggle world. Hermione Granger considered them to be centuries apart, quite literally. From betrothals, which were slowly becoming less common, to the insane obstacles to divorce to the expectation that magical folks must marry young, there were several aspects of bonding that further separated her two worlds. Like many of the more antiquated aspects of wizarding society, this expectation of getting married young was one Hermione still had trouble adjusting to. She resented that the practice was rooted in archaic pureblood society, but had come to begrudgingly accept it as more friends her age married. Harry and Ginny were the first couple she knew to wed, marrying the week after she graduated from Hogwarts.
Tonight's wedding, however, was far different than others she'd been to. Unlike Dean and Seamus' nuptials last month, which had hosted basically the whole of Gryffindor from across their school years, this wedding was far larger and far more...diverse in attendees.
When Katie Bell announced her engagement via invitation a few months ago Harry Potter nearly had an aneurysm in front of Hermione. They'd been in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld, making breakfast as the Weasley siblings slept in, when an owl arrived holding five pristine cream envelopes. Hermione greeted the unfamiliar owl with coos and a treat before inspecting the delivery. Each envelope was for an occupant of the house: Harry Potter, Ginny Potter, Ron Weasely, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood. She found the markings of the wizarding world she was so used to when receiving post from an owl: a formal quill script and a wax seal, though this one had a family crest she didn't recognize. The strange thing was, however, where she found these things. They were envelopes of muggle design, which she confirmed when she ripped one open. The brunette ignored Harry's protest when he realized it was the one addressed to him and quickly found the tell tale sticky line on the lip of the envelope. When she showed Harry, he was just as puzzled, until he opened up the invitation and began reading.
"Mr. and Mrs. Edward Bell request the honour of your presence at the wedding of their daughter Miss Katherine Aria to…" Harry cut himself off, his mouth hanging open and his dark eyebrows nearly at his hairline.
"Katie Bell is getting married?" Hermione wondered aloud, shocked that the witch hadn't mentioned any sort of partner at the post-qudditch drinks their extended friend group did monthly. "To who Harry?" Hermione asked impatiently when she received no confirmation. "To who?" When he didn't respond to her questions, instead rereading the letter again and again, she huffed loudly and ripped her own invitation open. Marcus Flint's name stared back at her and she understood why Harry's brain had stopped working.
The only thing that made sense about this news was the earlier mystery of the envelope, now solved. Katie Bell had a muggle mother, while Flint was part of one of the old families. Harry eventually began speaking again, voicing his confusion both at the match itself and Katie's secrecy about it. Ron's reaction was nearly the same, shocked at first, but then irrationally angry that Katie would date someone on the wrong side of the war. She had no doubt that the couple kept their involvement quiet specifically for that reason. While the war ended five years ago, Hermione found that it continued to impact their everyday life. Those in pureblooded society kept to the old ways and the wizarding world was still very much divided, though quietly so.
As she surveyed the reception hall, she found that those school rivalries could be seen in the way cliches had formed; she suspected the seating chart looked like a battle plan, since the impressions guests held of each other were war hardened. Thankful that her friends were with her, Hermione settled back into the conversation they were having at their table. Ron and Harry were debating the merits of treacle tart as a wedding dessert.
"Obviously you can't go wrong with any dessert, but you'd think a wedding calls for a cake," Ron suggested as he dug into the treacle tart in front of him with more gusto than one would expect from someone claiming they'd prefer cake.
"No, this was absolutely the right choice. I can't believe we didn't do this, Gin," Harry said through mouthfuls of tart. Hermione laughed with the rest of the table as the gorgeous ginger next to him rolled her eyes.
"There would've been no wedding, Potter. You know how insistent my mom was about that cake!" Ron chortled loudly, likely remembering the epic row between Molly and Ginny about the wedding cake. "Oh don't even start with me, Ronald," Ginny shot him a withering glare. "We both know she'll be worse whenever you actually find someone."
"Ginny!" He hissed, cutting her off and looking around warily. "You'll scare off the birds with that kind of talk!" Hermione bit back another laugh, but privately agreed. While she loved Molly, she could see how the matriarch could sound overwhelming to potential brides. Her stand-in wizarding mother was often too controlling for her own liking and she wasn't even a Weasley by blood or name.
Hermione studied Ron for a moment, thinking briefly about their disastrous two week attempt at dating. As he threw his head back laughing at some joke George cracked, she was thankful that they realized they were better as friends before things went too far. She loved Ron deeply, and wanted her best friend and roommate to be happy. Even if that meant getting pissed and hitting on the woman who he was currently following onto the dance floor.
Soon the rest of her friends got up to dance, but Hermione stayed put, preferring to people watch. Much like flying, dancing was something Hermione rather disliked. It wasn't a fear, per say, but she wasn't particularly good at it, constantly stumbling or stepping on her partners' toes while never being able to quite find the beat. Conversation, on the other hand, was easy. She hoped her friends would be tired soon, or else this night would drag on far too slowly with no one to talk to.
Suddenly a streak of blond caught her eye, floating gracefully across the dance floor to a table filled with people she hadn't particularly wanted to see again in her life; Draco Malfoy was carrying a tray full of firewhiskey and elf wine towards a table full of Slytherins she recognized from her year at Hogwarts. She had noticed Malfoy come in, of course. He was hard to miss given his platinum hair, looming height, and impeccable black dress robes. Plus, he'd been out of the country for the last three years with barely a mention in the paper. But she and her friends immediately prickled when that crowd entered the hall, a flood of bad memories washing over them. Well, everyone other than Luna, who was too focused on the kettleflies she'd spotted by the punch. While she'd looked away quickly earlier, Hermione took her time studying the man now. The last time they spoke was the day of his trial; she distinctly remembered how thin he looked, the how dark circles underlined his eyes, and how his lips twisted into a melancholy sneer. But as she watched him as he handed off drinks, he looked more like he had when they were at school, haughty and strong, that signature smirk fixed on his face.
"Hermione!" Ginny was at her side, grabbing her attention by repeating her name, tipsy and loud. Hermione sighed heavily and pulled gaze back to the ginger next to her. "Oh come on, Miss Workaholic. Why don't you just relax and dance with us? There are plenty of single wizards here. Live a little!"
"Ginny, the only men I want to dance with are all spoken for, and very interested in dancing with their own partners." What Hermione left unsaid was that she was certain no one outside of their friend group would ask her to dance. Men looked at her like a brain on legs, rather than a woman. As time progressed, she'd fallen more into that role, finding comfort in knowing exactly what to expect from others. When she became an Unspeakable last year she retreated further into the protection that the swot stereotype offered. She spent her time delving into top secret research projects with witches and wizards who cared about nothing other than her mind and the additions she could make with it.
"Oh, don't be that way. You know I don't mind sharing Harry for a dance or two. But afterwards, we are talking about you getting back into the dating game." Ginny yanked her up and forced her onto the dance floor, pushing her into her husband's arms. Harry laughed as he caught her, tugging Hermione close and apologizing for Ginny's overeager behavior.
"She's just worried about you," Harry said quietly, a smile on his face. Hermione loved looking at the relaxed man in front of her, completely transformed from the lost, heavily burnden boy she befriended over a decade ago. With the war done, Harry was finally living the life he deserved, playing quidditch for the Canons, living with his best friends, and married to the love of his life. Hermione found herself beaming back at him.
"I know, I know. It's just, my parents didn't find each other until dental school," Hermione whispered back at him, unwilling to meet his stare. She knew his green eyes would be annoyingly sympathetic. "I don't feel the need to run out and find a boyfriend right now. Especially with my work," Hermione said louder, feeling herself getting more annoyed.
"I'll talk to her, I promise." They looked over to see Ginny talking with Luna, a mischievous glint in her eye as she chatted with the blonde. Their roommate had remained single, opting to travel the world as she wrote articles for the Quibbler and researched for her book on elusive beasts. She was rarely home, and thus, rarely had to put up with Ginny's interference. Hermione only felt a bit guilty for leaving Luna without backup. But as the song ended, Harry went to the bar and Hermione caught sight of Ginny headed for her with that same meddlesome look.
That was how Hermione Granger came to be hiding in the bathroom. After replenishing her beauty glamors, spelling the loose curls falling out of her updo back in place, adjusting the too short black cocktail dress Ginny had talked her into, and jotting down some quick thoughts she'd had about a work project on the parchment she's stashed in her extended handbag, Hermione figured enough time had passed so she could return to the party and escape Ginny's warpath. Just as she walked out, she heard a familiar voice from around the corner.
"I just didn't expect to see so many old classmates tonight," it said gruffly. "Foolish of me."
"Oh no, Draco afraid to face Potter and co?" Another man's voice, lighter and teasing asked. Hermione wondered who this was. "Ready for us to run back to France?"
"Hardly. I just assumed this was meant to be a dignified affair," Draco Malfoy scoffed. "Flint's Sacred 28, after all. He grew up with the right upbringing, the proper procedures. That crowd is following none of them." Hermione rolled her eyes and prepared to walk away until her own name came up.
"Well, they are making it an actual party. Granger is looking fit too. Wouldn't you agree, Draco?" A third man's voice, deeper than the other two, asked with a bit of teasing in his voice. Hermione pressed against the wall to avoid being spotted, wondering where she'd hear that voice before.
"Passable I suppose. Though given how she looked while at school, the bar was exceedingly low." Hermione's jaw dropped as irritation flared in her chest. Just as she meant to step out and say something equally rude to Malfoy, the lighter voice spoke up.
"Are you remembering right? I recall her being particularly fetching at the Yule Ball." After mentally thanking the lighter voice, Hermione briefly wondered if it was rude to eavesdrop this long, but her insatiable curiosity pushed it out of her mind.
"Well Drake should certainly remember that. He was stunned speechless if I recall. I also was in Slug Club with her sixth year and she learned how to clean up by then. She looks professional at work, but I think tonight is a fair improvement from the baggy robes." Hermione realized the third deep voice must be Blaise Zabini.
"Going to take a shot then Zabini?" The lighter voice asked playfully.
"Perhaps. The night is young, Theo." Hermione wondered who Theo could be. "There are plenty of beautiful witches and wizards here, none of whom risk a visit from the Ministry's human relations department." Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently some things didn't change; Zabini was still a casanova. At work he was reserved, never talking unless absolutely necessary. However, all his project requests were always funded, which Hermione suspected had to do more with his charm than the actual projects. She often found herself absently admiring him, her eyes grazing his high cheekbones or watching him walk away. "Though that little black number is fairly eye catching." Hermione stared down at her black dress in alarm, vowing not to repeat that part to Ginny when she told her. She feared Ginny would force her into more daring hemlines all the time.
"Too right. I saw a blonde vision by the door earlier and I'm going to go try to find her."
"Well you two enjoy it," Draco said sarcastically. "I'll be at the bar for a drink before I make an early exit. This reception has dragged on for entirely too long." Hermione hated that they agreed on something.
"Well, I'll come with you then. Perhaps we will get you to finally talk to the fit Miss Granger. I'm shocked we haven't run into her since we got back, with all the charity work you both do." This Theo's voice said, fading as they walked away. "Perhaps you could ask her to dance."
"Theo, talking to her would be charity work. Dancing with her be torture. The dress may be tolerable, but nothing is enough to distract from the tightly wound swot underneath. Come on," Draco said dismissively. She could practically hear the sneer of his face, an expression she was all too familiar with.
Hermione stewed for a moment, before returning to the main ballroom and surveying the crowd for her friends. Harry was laughing with his Canons teammate Oliver Wood, while Ron and his Auror partner were chatting up some witches Hermione vaguely recognized as Ravenclaws from the year above them. With no sight of Ginny or Luna, Hermione beelined to the bar for another glass of fairy wine. As she approached, a stark white head of hair was visible above the crowd. As she got closer, she saw a slightly shorter, lanky brunet next to him. He turned and she tried to place his vaguely familiar face. A chill went down her spin as she identified him as Theodore Nott, son of a prominent Death Eater. That must've been the Theo she couldn't place. Ignoring her urge to run away, Hermione silently slipped into an open slot at the bar next to the blond, not acknowledging him.
"Granger," Malfoy said coldly after a minute of them waiting for the bartender's attention. Hermione thought he may not address her at all, but out of the corner of her eye she'd seen Theo elbow Malfoy in the ribs.
"Malfoy," she replied, equally frigid. "Having a nice time?"
"Not especially," he said, finally flagging down the bartender. He gestured for her to order first, which Hermione supposed was from etiquette training rather than a nice gesture. He then ordered two firewhiskeys and slid the second to Theo. "This is my final drink to pass the time before I get out of here," Malfoy said humorlessly.
"Yes, the reception is a bit long if you're not a dancer. But I'm so glad you got your charity work in." At his blank look, she leaned close and whispered into his ear. "You know, lowering yourself enough to talk to me." She pulled back to see his stunned face, before lifting her drink and saying louder, "I hope you and your minion have a good time."
Before he could react, she turned on her heel and sauntered away, finally finding Ginny in the crowd. She pulled Ginny into conversation and started explaining her past 15 minutes. Ginny ate up the gossip, chiming in with "what?" and "Merlin!" at the right times. When she got to Draco's insult, Hermione had to grab Ginny's arm to prevent her from whirling around and giving Malfoy a piece of her mind. "Not surprising from that ferret. He may have grown into his looks, but he hasn't grown up," Ginny scoffed.
Just over Ginny's shoulder, she saw Draco and Theo look over at her. When she smiled sweetly at them, Draco scowled and stormed out the door. As her gaze returned to Theo she found him walking her way, just as Harry pulled Ginny away for another dance, leaving Hermione defenseless as the near stranger approached her.
"Hello, Miss Granger," the brunette said cheerfully as he extended a hand. She accepted it, shaking it firmly despite her hesitance at interacting with a wizard she'd just inadvertently insulted. "I'm Theo Nott. I'm not sure if you remember, but we went to school together." She smiled genuinely at her, which she hadn't expected.
"I remember," Hermione said coldly, but found herself melting under the warmth of Theo Nott. Wildly different from the reserved, silent mostly loner she kind of remembered from school, this man's smile was easy, his eyes were inviting. "We took Potions together in sixth year. You can call me Hermione, if you'd like."
"Well, Hermione, I suppose I have to apologize for my boss, as a minion," Theo said lightly, his eyes twinkling at her with the last word. Hermione flushed, feeling embarrassed she'd been so vocally petty and impulsive. "It seems like you may have overheard something he shouldn't have said."
"That sums up most of my relationship with Draco Malfoy," said Hermione with a smirk. Theo let out a bark of laughter, a contagious noise which brought Hermione into giggles as well.
"Relationship, hm?" Theo asked teasingly. Hermione visibly tensed, all the laughter now gone. She didn't want to be the butt of some sort of joke with Malfoy; she'd done that enough. "Just joking, beautiful. But I do sincerely apologize. He is a good man, my best friend. He's the reason I'm still standing today," he said, a far away look in his eye. "But enough about that pale git. I'm actually here with ulterior motives."
"That I can believe," Hermione replied with a wry grin.
"Oh, I believe we are going to be good friends," Theo laughed before his expression became more solemn. "I saw you talking to quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen earlier and I'm interested in making her acquaintance."
"Oh, er, that's Harry Potter's wife," Hermione grimaced as she spoke. People approaching her about Ginny wasn't that uncommon, but it usually only happened when they traveled. Most people in the UK knew her as a professional athlete, a war hero, or as Harry Potter's wife. "Sorry to tell you. She is stunning though."
"No, not Miss Weasley," Theo said, shaking his head. "I may have been shy at school, but I didn't live under a rock. She's blonde, in a long blue gown that brings out her eyes. She looks like a water goddess or something else otherworldly. There's no way she went to school with us - I would have noticed her." Hermione tried to think of who she had talked to earlier. The only person she could think of that met that description was Fleur, who wasn't at the wedding. Then she realized who he could have meant: otherworldly.
"Are you speaking about Luna?" She tried to keep her tone light, rather than disbelieving. Luna was a beautiful witch, but her appearance was often offputting. Tonight, for example, she was draped in a beautiful blue gown, but wore a gold necklace that resembled a victorian collar more than anything else. Combined with the flowers braided in her long blonde hair, Luna certainly stood out.
"Luna," Theo hummed appreciatively. "That is a lovely name for a lovely woman. Could you secure a formal introduction?"
"I suppose so," Hermione replied slowly, confused as to why she was playing the middleman. "She's quite friendly. You could just approach her."
"That's not exactly how it is done, darling." Theo chuckled lowly, apparently amused by her suggestion.
"You just did that to me," Hermione said, further furrowing her eyebrows. He simply smiled widely at her in response.
"We've already made our acquaintance and I'm not planning on trying to win your heart, now am I?" He asked in a flirty tone that made Hermione just a little unsure of his intentions. Still, she found him charming, if not a bit overwhelming, so Hermione decided to introduce him to Luna. When she finally spotted the witch in question and dragged the suave wizard by the elbow, it was as though Hermione wasn't even there. Warm brown eyes connected with protruding blue ones and the rest of the room seemed to fall away from them. A single sentence of introduction from Hermione and she faded into the background. Theo bowed deeply, gently kissing the knuckles of Luna's hand. Hermione watched her friend's dreamy smile as she was led out onto the dance floor by the son of a Death Eater who tried to kill her in the Department of Mysteries. It was a surreal experience for Hermione. But what followed was more spectacular.
The rest of the hall slowly followed suit, crossing the invisible bound that had been up since far before the majority of the attendees were even sorted into different groups. She watched the gentle smile Marcus and Katie shared as the dance floor became a swirl of people, blending house and societal lines. Hermione found herself smiling too. In front of her was the future that they fought for, or, at least, it was a stepping stone towards it.
Perhaps Theo Nott wasn't so bad, despite the company he kept.
A/N: Started with the one shot posted last night, decided to go all in. This is not an exact adaptation - I made a few minor changes to the base storyline to make it flow better for modern times/the fact that our characters already know each other and a few characters absorbed roles. So, what do you think? I have never adapted an existing work, so I want to try to do it justice through our HP lens here.
For folks following my other WIPs - they will continue to be updated regularly! This is just an easy one since it is an adaptation. Next chapter of What Do A Wolf And A Lion Share? will be up Sunday; next chapter for Circling the Clock should be up next week. Still reworking the plot of the Percy Jackson crossover, so that might be a little bit.