The Room of Requirements; 1999

"Ginny, for the love of Merlin, we're going to be late," Hermione said, pounding on the door to Ginny's dorm room, "It's your brother! Ron probably won't notice if you look nice for him. Let's be honest, it will be a miracle if he notices what anyone wears."

"Just you, of course," Ginny said, and when she opened the door, hair thrown into a bun that looked effortlessly chic, she frowned, "That's what you're wearing?"

"Well, yes." Hermione blinked, "It's my nicest jumper." She patted the knitting, grinning.

Ginny made a strange face, "Don't you have a dress? Or...well, you know the invitation said 'athletic wear'."

"Oh, he doesn't expect me to wear that," Hermione half-wheezed. Apart from her attempt at running in her 4th year, she wasn't much for exercising.

"Sure, but," Ginny clicked her tongue, "Don't you…" She trailed off at Hermione's confused expression, "Nevermind."

As she passed, wearing a very short pair of shorts and a tank tied below her breasts, Hermione understood two things. First; she was dressing for Harry. And secondly, Hermione knew what her near-question had been.

Don't you want to dress up for Ron?

She sort of laughed at it; Ron loved her for who she was, and by now, he should know she was hardly the type to show up in a slinky dress or a shirt that showed off her cleavage. She had made an effort, and she hoped he'd recognize that she'd put on her best-fitting jeans with her jumper that her mum had gotten her from a very expensive boutique two years ago. So, no, she didn't.

The thought had crossed her mind, but she couldn't admit that. She had thought about it as she got up today, knowing it was Ron's birthday, and she stared at the meager options in her trunk and wondered if she had time to go to Hogsmeade.

The reason she wasn't, though, is that in some way...she hadn't been wondering what Ron would say if he saw her dressed unusually, but...maybe...what Theo would say. Theo, who she knew had been invited because she'd prodded Ron for the guest list but had no idea if he was even going to show up.

It was better all around if she didn't make a big deal of her outfit, she told herself.

They reached the Room of Requirements and already there were a few people queued to get inside. Ginny waved to George, who had managed to sneak back into the castle for Ron's big birthday bash, and before Hermione could say anything, the doors opened to reveal a breathtaking scene.

As Hermione was headed inside, she realized why Ron asked people to wear athletic kits. Though it was snowy, cold, and downright miserable outside, he'd mentally asked the Room of Requirements for something brill and it had, of course, obeyed.

Hermione forgot she was inside for one startling moment. It was like she'd walked months in the future, to the warm days of summer, and the warmth prickled at her sweater, making her sweat already. They were walking down a grand hill to a huge Quidditch pitch, and though Hermione wasn't the biggest fan of the sport, she couldn't help but feel tingles run up her arms. She doubted there would ever be a time, even after years of existing in this world, that magic like this didn't absolutely take her breath away.

"Great cor, this is bloody amazing!" Anthony whistled out loud, eyes shining, "And all I asked for my party was a London nightclub. I had no idea the room could do this!"

Using the Room of Requirements for birthdays had begun with Seamus, back in early November. They weren't using it for battling anymore and everyone had lost so much time during that terrifying year of 1998 (and for some, far before then) that he figured everyone deserved something like this.

"It was so fun though, Anthony! When I stumbled out of the door, I seriously thought I was going to walk out into the cobblestones of night, not the halls of Hogwarts," Faye giggled.

"You got yer first detention with Filch that night, didn't you?" Lisa rubbed her chin in recollection. Faye smiled proudly.

"Barfed right in front of him. Such a good party, though." She assured Anthony.

Ron waved everyone down to the pitch. He was wearing a Captain's outfit, holding a brand-new broom (a gift from Harry, the newest model) in his hands.

"I'm glad you all could make it! Today, we're going to play a bloody great game of Quidditch, no holds barred. I think we'll have enough for four teams, and I'm obviously one of the captains. Ginny, you'll be the second one."

Harry groaned and Ginny whooped.

"Sorry, Har. You know Ginny's better than you," Neville said almost apologetically but was grinning.

"Now...for the other teams…" Ron tapped his chin, "How about...erm...well, Theo was voted as the best Quidditch player, but I guess he'll be late.." It was still jarring to hear Ron talk about Theo so casually, in such friendly terms.

"He'll be here soon, he just needed to finish a project with Vector," Daphne piped up. It was only now Hermione noticed her here and noticed she was wearing Quidditch gear. Expensive, but worn quidditch gear. Hermione had no idea she played, but of course, maybe Theo liked someone who shared this love with him?

"Right, we can just practice with our teams...once we choose them...he'll be the fourth captain. Ernie, you wanna be the third?"

"I'll crush all of you," Ernie teased.

They settled out to choose teams. Hermione was grateful no one chose her for any position, but she wasn't the only one left out. A few significant others of players moved specifically toward the sidelines, here only as cheerleaders. Hermione wavered, unsure if she should too, or if Ron would expect her to try?

She felt bad when no one picked her, and it was clear she was not expected to join those that were picked for Theo by Daphne, and she wondered should she ask? Still, she was equally relieved that she hadn't been, because she really really really was not good at Quidditch at all.

So, she hovered, until it was clear that everyone was breaking to practice or run strategies with the team until Theo arrived.

Stupidly for a second, Hermione wondered if Ron meant Ted Roman, the seventh year in Ravenclaw, that people also called Theo? He was a Quidditch player, and maybe some part of her still desperately did not want her two worlds colliding like this, and it would be better if Ted Roman walked through those doors. Still, why would Daphne know what a seventh-year Ravenclaw was doing on his day off?

Hermione found light, easy conversation with the gathered guys and girls who were also non-athletic. Ron futzed around with his friends, everyone joking more than anything, and Hermione enjoyed seeing him in his element. He was grinning so widely that it made Hermione happy. Not just happy; at ease. Until, of course, Theodore walked in.

He looked so good in his workout gear, which she knew from 4th year, but age had only helped. He had muscles now that didn't exist previously and he looked like a professional celebrity player. Everyone looked so ragged compared to him, and his broom was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. It was a work of art.

"Nott! Oh, we're just waiting for you. You're a team captain." Ron waved him down.

"Perfect!" Theo smiled, his head swiveling. It landed on Hermione. Whether she was naturally in his sightlines or he had been searching it was hard to tell, but noticing her not on a broom, he tilted his head with curiosity. She gave a small shake of her head and he seemed to let it go, mostly because Daphne was excitedly tugging his arm toward his team. She did seem so besotted with him, and from just the short practice, Hermione realized she was a skilled player. Maybe they were meant to be a couple, she thought with a sad sigh.

The games began with gusto at this point. Hermione politely watched, or at least she was polite about everyone else's. She was so curious to really see Theo play and tried not to perk up whenever he or his team were up. Ron masterfully molded this entire scrimmage, reminding her of all the intelligence he had too, just in different ways.

Not once did he bother her, asking her to just try to join in. This shocked her. Usually, he whined about her lack of effort toward any Quiddich, even when she pointed out how horrible she was.

"But I love it," Ron would pout, "And shouldn't you try it for me?"

Oh, they'd gotten into fights about it. Hermione would point out that he never tried doing what she liked, such as investigating a hypothesis with heavy research. Ron laughed at her when she'd brought that up, as though there was anything funny about her suggestion.

"Mione, Quidditch is for everyone! That's a very specific non-fun topic."

Hermione had yelled; of course, she found it so fun, what was Ron talking about? She outrightly refused to pick up a broom again, saying that she didn't have to be on a piece of wood thirty feet above the ground to support her boyfriend. She could support him in many other ways.

"But I love it and I want you to be part of it," Ron usually said, which always made her feel so awful.

So as it was, Hermione was shocked that today he'd just...dropped it. Maybe because he had so many others that were gleefully participating, he didn't need Hermione. Maybe he just stopped caring about her obstinate attitude whenever he pushed her to try.

Maybe she should be far more bothered that he didn't try to nudge her towards the field today?

In fact, he seemed in a grand mood, more so than she'd seen him in a long time. The one single time he'd come 'round, near a break, he'd asked if she was doing okay.

"It's your party Ron, don't worry about me. Have fun, alright?" She nudged him, "I'm just having fun watching you." She lied.

"Right, just checking," Ron said, giving her a thumbs-up, never for a second thinking that she was fibbing for his benefit. But why would he? They were dating, supposed to be truthful with each other.

As the night winded down, the players crowded the tent set up near the pitch for food. At this point, the people that were here for others had peeled away, wishing Ron a happy 18th and vanishing. Hermione wished she could go too, but (a) Theo was still here, so she felt tied like a string to his presence, and (b) [which should have been her first point], it was her boyfriend's party.

Hermione found a nice couch to situate herself on as the players talked over each other to dissect the game. They talked about amazing moves someone had done, the dirtiest plays, the most creative, the ones best executed...they all swarmed over each other in excitement, discussing things with words and phrases Hermione didn't know.

She was the only one left that had no interest in Quidditch talk. She had brought a book with her anyway. It was out of the norm, something non-fiction. She hadn't expected to enjoy it, but had begun last night and was tearing through it already. It gave her something else to focus on as she let the discussion behind her drown everything out.

She yawned, trying to cover the motion in her hand. She hadn't slept well the night previous. No one noticed...except Theo.

He was so perceptive that sometimes it startled her.

His eyes flashed toward where she settled on the couch, and he gave a half-smile.

"I think we've bored Hermione half to death," He said out loud, nudging Ron toward where Hermione sat. Ron stopped mid-retelling of some crazy thing he saw Harry try that no one else apparently had, trailing off as though confused. When Theo nudged Ron again, perhaps asking him why he wasn't trying to include his girlfriend, Ron just laughed.

Some eyes were on her. She didn't want to be called out about how out of place she seemed, how this didn't seem like her world at all, even if she wished it to be. She'd never really understood the comradery of Quidditch, nor the violence behind it, or the skill it took. Even if she read every book, she'd feel like an outsider.

"She's fine," Ron shrugged Theo off, though it should have been obvious she wasn't. Did she want him to coddle her, though? No, of course not, but she was still shocked Theo took the time to say anything at all.

Theo turned all the way toward her, eyebrows knitted, as though questioning if she really was okay out of the way like this. She just raised the cover.

"I have a good book," She murmured, shugging, "I'll be occupied for hours."

Theo licked his lips like he wanted to say more, to argue, but Faye was asking him another question about something she'd tried and wanted to know if he had any tips on how to hang off a broom without killing oneself, and he was distracted.

Out of the corner of his eye, she could swear he was watching her, though. Watching her closer than her own boyfriend was.

The hours ticked by. By the time food was being served, Hermione was so engrossed in her book she hardly noticed at all. She was so close to the end, and it was a heartbreaking final few chapters.

She refused to cry in this loud crowd, with the cacophony of sounds all around her. It was such a juxtaposition; the happy party around her with the heart-wrenching realization in her pages. But for her, she was elsewhere, in these character's heads, playing out the anguish of a twist ending with them. She held in her tears, the hair on the back of her neck rising because a book had not so captured her every emotion and interest for so very, very long.

There was a nudge on her leg. She expected it to be Ron and was about to find an excuse as to why her eyes were puffy, as he'd probably laugh about a book having such sway on her emotions. He had told her once he didn't see the interest or how books could do that and found it silly people got so invested.

Instead, it was Theo, standing above her with a plate of pizza. He wasn't just offering it out to her, he was asking to sit.

Hermione rolled her legs off the couch so there was space next to her. He sat, so close their thighs almost touched, and offered her the plate. She realized he had another one, his own, in his other hand.

"I-,"

"You hadn't eaten," Theo said, "And everyone is attacking that pizza like vultures. Figured you might be hungry."

His gentle motion, so small, touched her soul. She placed a bookmark at her location in the novel and set it down to eat. Theo ate with her.

Not with his girlfriend. Her.

She wondered...would someone notice and wonder? And, if they did, would she care?

As Hermione was eating the first bite, Theo grasped her by her wristwatch, holding it up to examine it. Though his fingers were touching plastic and not her slender wrist, her heart still fluttered quickly at the movement, about how he was inches away from touching her with his warm, calloused hands.

"That's a cool watch," He said sincerely. Hermione knew how important watches were in the Wizarding World. Her eyes flickered down but she didn't see one on his arm. Perhaps it had been seized by the Ministry or maybe he didn't want to wear it at all?

She looked up to realize Theo was looking at her, maybe expecting a reply.

But what could she really say? Should she tell him that this was her fourth favorite watch out of all the watches she'd owned? That her favorite and even her second-favorite had been destroyed by Harry's adventures in danger and this was what remained? Should she tell him that it was a bargain-bin watch pooled out of a vat for spending 'x amount of pounds' during a sale and she'd forgotten about it until now? Should she say she'd picked it because it was purple and purple was her favorite color?

And, ridiculously, should she do something daring with that Gryffindor heart of his, like kiss him, close the space between the two of them?

The tempting thought danced in her mind even as she swallowed it back.

"Purple is my favorite," She decided to croak out.

"Really? Mine's orange; I know, I know. Not befitting of a Slytherin." He laughed, then squinted, "But your watch is upside down."

Hermione looked at it. Indeed it was. She'd thrown it on after her shower this morning and apparently hadn't been watching. Instead of admitting this folly like a normal human, Hermione gave something she wondered if it was a flirty smile.

"Perhaps that's how I prefer it," She said. Theo laughed.

"Why? Isn't it hard to read time?"

"It's more for the look. We all know 'tempus'," Hermione pointed out smartly, "Has a certain Lewis Carroll feeling, wouldn't you say?" She said, then paused, "Oh! Right, he's a muggle author who wrote-,"

" Alice in Wonderland . You think someone that created that was non-magical?" Theo snorted, "I'm aware."

Her own embarrassment but also surprise kept her quiet.

There was a weight on her shoulders and she turned to see Ron jumping over the couch above her, kissing her temple as he sat next to her.

"I'll fix it right up," He said, with no hint of suspicion or wonder that she was sitting here with Nott. Hermione watched as Ron righted the watch for her, patting the top of her hand as he finished. She had to consider how her skin didn't burn when Ron touched her the way it did when she was even just close to Theo.

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said, her throat creaking as she tried to force herself to lean naturally into Ron's open arms, finding it harder to do than she'd expected. This was her boyfriend for crying out loud!

Ron remained at her side for the rest of the party, inviting the party to her. She was a bit peeved at this; she was hardly a social person and now she was right in the thick of it, and to be frank, she wished she wasn't. Theo had moved to sit with Daphne, but his absence seemed cavernous to her. The party itself, the tiny moments, seemed a blur. She couldn't have really told you what anyone was talking about.

As the party winded down, Theo and Daphne were two of the last to leave.

Hermione noticed; of course she did. She could recount where Theo traveled during that whole party, map out his wanderings.

She was still on the couch. Before leaving, Anthony had turned the music up loudly for an impromptu dance party, meaning that much of the space was filled to the brim with heavy bass and drums.

As Theo dropped his arms over the back of the couch, Hermione couldn't help but think that this felt nearly like he was putting his arms around her. They boxed her in, and as his chin rested on the back of the couch to speak, it was like they were in their own world, where the music bubbled around them.

Ron was helping Daphne put her things away. The few remaining guests were milling, far from noticing the pocket of time Hermione found herself in with Theo.

"Are you going?" She asked, trying to keep it from a whine.

"Sorry the party wasn't lively or exciting for you," He said.

Hermione wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. His words were the oddest thing to her. For, here was Theo, apologizing for a party that was not his, for something Hermione thought needed no apology. It still warmed Hermione's heart that he was thinking of her so much, and thinking of her enjoyment.

Hermione wondered if he was thinking of the wilder, louder parties up in the Gryffindor tower that she'd seen him at on occasion. She almost wanted to remind him that the difference lay in that during those parties, she was waving everywhere, not because she was social, but also because if they were going to throw a party, Hermione was going to do it right. It was perfect for her control-freak personality to throw a thrilling bash that would go unnoticed by heads of houses.

She couldn't have done that here. This was Ron's party, so she was expected to be present or to participate in the planning, though she doubted she could have helped. So if that were her instructions, her sitting with a book with the roar of a Quidditch game in the background was as good as any girl could ask for.

She had enjoyed herself, she guessed, in terms of a quiet night. In terms of a party? Well, she needn't qualify that, as it seemed rude to complain.

"Why apologize?" She scrunched her nose, "It's Ron's birthday. Besides, I finished a very good book." She said, smiling at him. She expected this to be the end of it, for him to pull back and maybe shrug as though to say 'if you say so', but he shocked her by leaning further in.

"What book?" He asked. Hermione could smell the after-dinner mint he'd taken, cool against her exposed ear.

She glanced up, unsure what his expression told. Perhaps it was an interest, though her look up was only momentary, so it was hard to tell.

Hermione held up the cover. Theo studied it, taking it from her, before shaking his head.

"Never heard of it," He said, but didn't quite hand it back.

"Wouldn't' expect you to. It's a muggle book," She teased, and part of her was still shocked he didn't stumble back as though the very word had bitten him.

"Would I like it? Or is it a girly book?" He asked, his voice deliciously warm, like melted caramel, Hermione decided.

"Like what? There are no girly books. Just books guys are too afraid to read," Hermione sniffed, challenging him.

"Like... Pride and Prejudice or Jane Eyre," Theo said with a groan, "Narcissa adored those, and I couldn't stomach them."

"Too much romance?" Hermione asked.

"Just...too much," Theo said, but this didn't answer much at all. He was still holding the book, "But, well, if you liked it, I probably would too," He said decisively.

"It's tragically beautiful. Artistic," Hermione said after a few moment's pause. Fragmented. Broke. Mystery. I could go on, but Theo seemed satiated with my small blurb.

"Perhaps I'll read it," He said.

"Take my copy," Hermione said, which was something she usually never did. She hoarded her books and kept them pristine. After Ginny tore the cover of one of her novels, she never lent out a book to anyone. Somehow, she had a feeling Theo would keep it safe and unharmed.

"I couldn't." Theo tried to hand it back.

"Well, you'll give it back, you dingbat," Hermione wasn't sure where the familiarity of that nickname came from, but Theo grinned at it, "Borrow it."

"Right, sure," Theo held it up, "I'll read it."

She believed him.

It was stupid to cry over that, but Hermione was seconds away from it.

Ron would have never offered to read a book she loved. Ron hardly read anything as it was. Ron would never understand why anyone would cry over characters, because to him, they were just books. Hermione felt like Theo would understand this in a way Ron never could.

But then again, she was being too harsh on Ron's temperament. His firm stance in reality was what she loved so much about him at times. She loved that sometimes Ron did remind her that it was just a book. That the reality within those books is translucent and there's so much more life outside of reading; she needed someone to remind her of that on occasion.

In fact, Ron pushed her outside of her comfort zone. Sometimes annoyingly, but she would be the first one to say she needed that. She needed someone who would put her book down and insist she come outside to see the rain that was falling or to go on an adventure or to just enjoy the world.

In fact, had it been any normal party, Ron would have probably infuriated her with this tactic, but only maybe later would she have agreed that she was glad it happened. If he wasn't so busy, he would have been pushing Hermione to just try to get on a broom or practice just one-on-one with him. He always knew how to get her up and going.

He would have been dancing with her when Anthony put on that club music, knocking into tables and swinging her around and causing her to laugh so hard her sides hurt. He would have confiscated her book on the authority of 'The Birthday Boy' if everyone hadn't been at his side for every second of the night. He would have made her see something beyond the book, something real and tangible.

Still, even as Hermione admitted all this to herself, she couldn't help but watch Theo began to flip through the pages, rubbing his finger over the book spine.

She wondered if he'd actually read it. She wondered if he would have the same reaction, the same feelings about it.

And, as she stared at him and he caught her gaze, she was not embarrassed for once. She held it, considering once again that Theo had always been so perceptive. As she considered how he didn't avoid her or flinch away and often sought her out, she wondered if she held a tenantship in his mind in the same way he did in hers, or if she wasn't even a thought day-to-day other than when she appeared across his vision.

But most of all, Hermione had to wonder if he knew. Knew how she felt, how desperately she wanted him. Knew that whenever her brain went to white fuzz, somehow it was always him there, not Ron, that bloomed in her mind. She wondered if he could see her pull to him, a curiosity that no book could ease her wondering, no dreams at night could keep satisfied.

As he smiled and turned, she couldn't help but think that Theo, of course, was discerning, so perhaps he did.