Sunday, January 3, 1999

Hermione shouldered her bag and walked up the path as it rose to meet the viaduct to Hogwarts Castle. It was bitterly cold and she muttered a renewed warming charm as her feet moved from rough ground to smooth stone. Early morning mist swirled over the span ahead and drifted around the castle's turrets. She looked up and breathed deeply, trying to decide how it felt to be back.

After a brief moment she settled on 'glad, but a touch anxious,' and then continued across the bridge.

She'd set out early this morning and had apparated to Hogsmeade rather than waiting for the train. A few quiet hours by herself before most of the student body arrived had felt necessary after the last two weeks. Not that she hadn't enjoyed herself; the holiday had been (mostly) lovely, but it had been hectic too.

New Year's Eve had finished a bit mad, with Harry and Ron bringing a contingency from the Ministry gala back to Lav's, and Olivia showing up with a group of friends too. They'd all stayed up very late and had a cracking good time, ending up on the roof shooting sparks from their wands just before dawn.

The only worrisome part had been when Hermione looked around and realised both Ginny and Harry had disappeared. They'd shown up again later and Hermione had thought Harry looked sheepish, but hadn't had a chance to ask him about it. She pursed her lips as she mounted the steps to the castle. She'd find Ginny later today and check in—it wouldn't do to let her droop into a depression over him again.

Come to think of it, she could be doing wtih the same advice.

Frowning as she passed through the main doors to the entry hall, Hermione felt the thoughts she had very much been putting off crowd in on her.

Theo.

Draco.

Theo again.

She supposed it was back to reality with those two now that they were all back in close vicinity. The activity and social whirl of the holiday had been so good for pushing all of that away, but here she knew she couldn't escape.

Although—she looked at her watch to see it had barely gone 9 am—maybe she'd get a few hours alone to settle in before she had to deal with things. The castle certainly felt echoing and deserted, and the train wouldn't arrive until just before dinner.

Pulling at the door to the Divination Tower, Hermione stepped quickly through the eighth-year common room, looking around a bit furtively. But everything was quiet and she was fairly certain she was the first one back. She took the steps to the girls' floor two at a time and then hurried to her own door, uttering a sigh of pleasure as she clicked open the lock and slipped inside her sweet little room.

The first thing she saw was Theo's painting.

Still leaning against her desk where she'd left it, beautiful in its stark grays, blacks and blues. A mute testament to everything that had happened. A rush of feeling came over her and she dropped her bag and knelt, reaching out to touch a ridge of paint with a gentle finger, her mind's eye wandering over that last night with Theo.

What was she going to do?

What was it going to be like with him?

She sighed and rocked back on her heels, then sat unceremoniously on the ground and hugged her knees to her chest.

She and Lavender had spent a good amount of time talking about this yesterday, walking into muggle London for lunch and a visit to the V&A after spending the first day of the year indoors nursing their hangovers.

But Hermione still felt worried. Absently, she flicked her wand at her fireplace and wicked the small pile of wood within into flame, then sat and brooded as the cold room warmed up.

Despite Lavender's arguments to the contrary, (she'd still thought Hermione should 'fight' for Theo, whatever that meant) Hermione had almost certainly come to the conclusion that she and Theo ought to break off the romantic part of their relationship. She saw it not only as insurance against future heartbreak, but crucial for preserving their friendship. Not to mention a good step toward disentangling herself from preoccupation with a part of her life (boys) that frankly should be the lowest thing on her priority list right now.

She had things to do, plans to accomplish, bloody exams to take, and she didn't want to spend the next six months agonising over her love life. She'd had enough of that, thank you. It would be much better to make a clean break now, so she could focus on what was truly important.

Besides, she was almost certain Theo was going to do it anyway.

She rested her chin on her knees.

That last conversation on New Year's Eve she'd sensed a change in him. A resolve. She knew he cared for her deeply, but he cared more about not hurting her. She also knew his nature and his profound loyalty to those he loved. And she knew that if feelings grew between Daphne and him, he'd have to explore them. He'd have to try righting what he saw as a great wrong. He'd been honest about that all along.

Her mind went back to her conversation with Harry on this subject and she imagined what it would be like if the same thing had happened between them. If she and Harry had fallen in love and then he'd betrayed her. Harry would go to the ends of the earth to fix it. Sacrifice himself again and again. And funnily enough, Theo and Harry were quite similar in some ways. Two of her best friends…

So she couldn't blame Theo for things they'd thought might happen, actually happening.

Hermione shifted and released her legs, stretching them out toward the warmth of the fire. Even Lav had conceded that much in the end.

"I just love you two for each other and I'm sorry it didn't last longer. But I do understand," she'd said as they'd walked back into Diagon Alley from Kensington. "It's basically what happened with Blaise and me."

"What did happen with Blaise and you?" Hermione had asked. "You've never told me about it."

"There's not much to tell. We were in different cities, living different lives. Barely seeing each other. Neither of us wanted to do long distance or try to make something work when it wasn't easy. Timing and circumstances." Lavender had shrugged.

"Did one of you initiate the breakup, though?"

"I did. But it was definitely preemptive." Lavender had smiled a little sadly. "I didn't want to put myself in a position to be hurt."

"That's sort of where I'm landing," Hermione had said as Lavender had reached out to rub her arm.

But would it hurt Theo if she initiated the conversation? The break? Hermione shifted impatiently. She really, really hoped not, but she wasn't sure. Her mind went back to their early morning conversation in the hotel room on Skye.

"Has it been hard? Being my friend?"

"It's been the easiest thing in the world."

Would it still?

Hermione got up and paced to the window, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. She just hoped she hadn't utterly cocked things up by getting involved with him.

Below her, a trio in dark robes swept around the path and into the castle. It looked like Ernie speaking with a couple of professors. People were starting to trickle in.

Hermione made a quick movement from the window and toward her door. Maybe Theo was back too. Suddenly she couldn't wait another second to talk to him. Say what needed to be said and get it over with.

She yanked on her door handle and stopped abruptly, almost running into a solid object, which turned out to be Theo himself.

He looked at her in surprise, like he'd been standing there trying to decide whether to knock.

"Theo!"

"You are here!"

They spoke at the same time then stopped, staring a little dazedly at each other until Theo pulled her into a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you in person and not through stupid green flames," he said.

Hermione's arms wrapped around him. "I know."

A nervous laugh bubbled from her lips. "Did you just arrive?"

"I need to talk to you," he said.

They spoke at the same time again and Hermione winced at his words, which seemed to prove her suspicions. Funny they'd had the same impulse to get it over with as soon as possible.

"OK," she said, moving back. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yes," Theo said, stepping through the door a little gingerly. "And yes, I just arrived. Drove up and left obscenely early."

"Oh, of course!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved the painting so she could pull her desk chair out for him. "I still need to hang this," she said with a swift smile.

"Over the fireplace would be nice." Theo sat and ran a hand through his hair.

Hermione nodded and murmured then sat on her bed, hating their awkwardness. Impulsively reached over to take his hand. "Look," she said, just as he started to speak again too.

"God, we keep doing that." He laughed a little and squeezed her fingers. She opened her mouth, but he held up his other hand. "I do have something I really need to tell you, though."

Hermione blinked and closed her mouth. "OK." She let go of him and sat back.

Theo took a huge breath and dropped his head. "I really debated whether to—I'm still debating. But no." He straightened and Hermione realised she was holding her breath. She made herself breathe.

"Whatever you need to say, Theo."

His eyes widened. "No, it's not that!" But then his shoulders dropped. "Or maybe—God, OK. I'm just going to tell you."

Hermione frowned. What was this?

"I didn't want to floo about it because I wanted to tell you in person," he started, his eyes still intent on hers. "But you know the Malfoys came to the Greengrass New Year's Eve thing."

"Of course." Hermione nodded. "And how was that?"

Theo looked to the side. "Ahhh, well. Draco and I—but that's—" He held up a hand again when Hermione started to speak. "Just hear me out." Hermione went silent and he continued. "So the Malfoys stayed over after the party and through New Year's Day."

Hermione put aside the feelings this information introduced and kept quiet.

"I was also there on New Year's Day," he said. "Went over to return a book Daph had given me from the library." Theo rubbed an agitated hand over his face. "And we were chatting in the hallway when we heard something. Voices. Raised voices." He looked at Hermione, who had gone very still.

"It was Astoria and her mother," Theo continued. "Daph and I froze when we realised. Violet Greengrass never raises her voice..." He shook his head. "But she was saying something about a book. Something about how she'd found this book and that she wanted Astoria to stop. Just stop." Theo's eyes went unfocused as his voice shifted to a slightly different cadence and he looked as if he were speaking from memory, "'You are not renouncing, so just put that out of your mind. This engagement and the binding are the only things keeping you alive!'" His eyes sharpened and flicked back to Hermione, who felt suddenly as if she was falling through an endless, blank distance.

A binding? Keeping her alive? What the hell was this?

"...really debated over whether to tell you." Hermione focused back in on Theo's concerned face. "I don't know what it means. I'm sick with how it could affect you and whether that—fucking arsehole even deserves your—" He tugged at his hair. "If you'd be upset. Us." His face twisted. "But I could never keep it from you. You deserve to have all the information."

Hermione opened her mouth. Closed it. "Thank you, Theo," she finally said, hearing her own voice as if from far away.

"And my reaction in the moment," Theo continued, seemingly not realising that Hermione had fallen over a cliff. "I had to tell Daphne about you and Draco in Italy. She could tell there was more going on than just me being surprised."

"Oh?"

"She took it in stride. Said she'd wondered a couple of times." Theo frowned. "So, she knows and I hope that's OK."

Hermione put a hand to her forehead absently. "No, it's fine. I trust her. I don't even know why I kept it quiet, really. Habit, I suppose." She was still reeling, utterly reeling, as her mind cycled furiously through the little she knew about binding spells. A simple contract? A bargain? Or something more specific: an archaic marriage binding or even an engagement spell? How did it work? What did it do? What did it mean? How could she find out more?

Draco and Astoria were bound.

So many things made more sense.

"So I—" Theo started speaking again, but stopped as a soft, urgent knocking started on the door. "Shall I get that?" he asked, when Hermione made no move to get up.

"Oh. Yes." Hermione straightened as Theo opened the door to reveal Daphne, a worried frown on her face.

"You're here!" she said, her eyes swinging from Theo to Hermione and taking in Hermione's appearance. "And you told her." She nodded at Theo, her face softening and a tension going out of her body. "I'm glad."

Theo nodded back and Hermione saw the connection pass between them. Unspoken words. Her approval, his acknowledgement of it and a little flicker of what that might mean for them.

She felt a pang, but it was very muted.

"Come in. Sit," she said to Daphne, who was still in the doorway. Daphne walked in and perched on the corner of the bed as Theo filled her in on what he'd said.

"Right." Daphne turned to Hermione. "I figure it must have been done when they visited Malfoy Manor in the spring. I wasn't invited or let in on anything, though. I told you as much this autumn." She glanced at Theo, who nodded. "And I tried to ask Astor about it yesterday." Daphne shook her head. "She wouldn't tell me anything, though. She seemed almost embarrassed. Or maybe she's been instructed not to talk?" She held up her palms.

"Why, though? Why in the world was it done?" Hermione voiced one of the questions from amongst the hundreds that were rioting through her mind.

"Well, if Daph's assumption about timing is right, the Death Eaters must have been involved. Voldemort," Theo said. "Maybe they were building alliances? Or was it a punishment of some sort? I know from, em, Alecto, that he was angry with the Malfoys. Even though he needed them." Hermione's gaze whipped to Theo as he said that name, but he was looking at Daphne. "Or maybe it was your family that was the target?" he asked.

"Doubtful," she said. "My mother and father would have been overjoyed at a connection with the Malfoys. No matter how it happened."

"But there must have been some sort of quid pro quo." Theo said. "Your mother said it was keeping Astoria alive. She wanted her to stop researching renouncing. And Draco clearly wasn't a willing participant." His eyes went to Hermione, who just stared at him.

"Yes. And I found something else," Daphne said quickly. "I went and looked in my father's study yesterday too. Before I talked to Astoria. You don't even know this part," she said to Theo. "But my family is broke. I saw a document with our Gringotts' balances and an overdue mortgage bill for the house. Explains a few rows I overheard between my mother and father these last two weeks too."

"Shit, Daph." Theo's brows drew together.

"Whatever, it's fine." Daphne waved a hand. "I don't care about the money. But it's a lot of money to have gone through in a short period of time. So I wonder if they gave it to someone in exchange for something. Someone less than savory since it's all been so secretive. Quid pro quo as you said—for Astoria's treatment? She's been so much better since the spring. Strong enough to come to school… And that might explain why the Ministry investigation didn't result in charges." Daphne looked down and picked at a thread on Hermione's bedspread.

"None of that was to do with you, Daphne." Hermione said, coming back to the present moment and looking at Theo, who nodded. "But I do wonder, how does a binding come into all of it?"

"Well what do we know about binding spells?" Theo asked. "I confess, it's next to nothing for me. I even had a quick look in the library at the house, but didn't find anything useful."

Hermoine cleared her throat, pulling out the snippets that had been racing disjointedly through her mind since Theo's first words about the spell. "Bindings are used to magically hold participants to a contract, pact or agreement," she said, voicing the part they probably all knew already. "Marriage bindings are archaic though," she said almost to herself. "Mostly used in the 18th and 19th centuries, but almost entirely gone by the 20th."

"But not unheard of in pureblood circles," Daphne said. "Although only the most traditional families would use them, and only as a ceremonial formality." She gestured. "A family like the Blacks, for example. So maybe Narcissa Malfoy didn't think it was strange. Or she and Lucius might even have had one themselves. But they're usually cast during the wedding ceremony as part of the vows, not at the engagement. Not months before."

"Oh, I didn't know that," Theo said.

"You wouldn't have." Daphne gave him a sad smile.

"But what do they do?" Hermione said, reaching into her store of knowledge, the urge to race to the library becoming almost physical at this point.

"Well, I think it's clear it's made it difficult for Draco to be around you," Theo said quietly. "To talk to you."

"Yes," Hermione's gaze lasered on his. "'The intent is to ensure and then preserve the purity of the union,'" she recited, suddenly remembering language from a passage randomly read long ago. "I think I stumbled across them when I was researching magical feminism in sixth year," she said, trying desperately to recall the book the passage had been in.

"So any threat to the union might be affected by the spell," Daphne said.

"Which may explain why he wouldn't talk to me either." Theo raised his brows.

"At least at first," Daphne said, raising her brows back. Theo coloured slightly and Daphne did too. Then she looked around and cleared her throat. "Well. I should leave you two," she said, getting up. "To, er, catch up. I just bumbled right in, didn't I? So sorry. I was worried—but I needn't have been." Her eyes rested on Theo again.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you so much for coming. And telling me what you know." Hermione also got up, and Daphne's gaze swung back to her. Hermione could barely register her own words, though. Her mind was already on the exact section—"Magical Marriage and Families"—she would visit first when she got to the library.

"Well, I'll try to find out more," Daphne said. "Maybe try again with Astoria now that we're away from home. Or Pansy might know something." She tapped her chin and stared into space. "She and Astor seem so close these days."

Hermione looked at Theo, who also looked at her. He shook his head slightly and Hermione nodded. "Thanks, Daphne," she said. "I really do appreciate it."

Daphne nodded and said a quick, slightly awkward goodbye before slipping out the door.

Hermione turned around and leaned against the solid wood. There was a book she'd seen in her recent research, something to do with spells that had fallen out of favour due to societal changes and advances—she wondered if it would have a section on marriage bindings, or at least the bibliography might point her toward another source...

"How are you doing?" Theo's voice almost startled her. Hermione looked up to see him watching her, a somewhat wry look on his face.

Hermione blinked. "Shit, I'm sorry, Theo." She moved away from the door and toward him.

"It's fine." A smile flitted over his features, then was gone. "I had an inkling of how you'd react."

Hermione forced her thoughts to rearrange, pushing the swarming ideas away and focusing on the here and now. She sat across from Theo again and placed her hands in her lap, not sure of what to say.

"Should we talk?" he asked after a bit of a silence. "In light of all of… all of this?"

Hermione nodded. "I think so. Although," she laced her fingers together and looked down at them. "I was coming to talk to you just now. Before you told me." She glanced up and saw Theo frown.

"Hermione, I—"

Hermione bit down on what she'd been about to say and looked at him questioningly. He took a deep breath and continued.

"I just want you to know that nothing happened or anything like that. With Daphne. We're really just barely getting to be friends again. And I was really sorry that I couldn't come down like we'd planned. I mean, I probably could have." He rubbed his neck. "But it would have been for a few hours and not what we'd talked about. And then it just seemed easier... or maybe better… not to?"

Hermione put out a hand to stop him. "I know. I know what you mean. And that's why I didn't press you. The time apart was good, I think. I remembered what it was like to be just me, doing me things. It was… restorative. I settled on some plans for the future that feel really right."

Theo nodded, but his face looked a little sad, so Hermione pressed on.

"Not that I didn't miss you too. I missed you a lot. But sometimes I think when we're close my judgment gets muddled or confused because I'm quite…drawn to you."

He let out a short laugh. "Exactly."

Their eyes met for a long moment until they both shifted.

"See!" Hermione said with a smile. "But then we both have these other things." She waved a hand, her mind desperately wanting to veer off Draco-ward again. But she snapped that door shut and concentrated on Theo. "And our friendship, which is so important to me."

"It's so fucking important to me too. You have no idea." Theo shook his head.

"I think I do." Hermione reached out and touched his hand.

"I'm still really worried that I'm making a mistake," he said. "That we're making a mistake."

Hermione blew out a breath. "I think the bigger mistake would be to force something," she said. "If either of us is in the least bit doubtful. How hurt will you be when I'm living in the library for the next several days or weeks? And how will it feel to me when you tell me you took Daphne out on a jaunt in the Rover? How will we reconcile those things with us as a couple?"

Theo looked down. "Yeah," he said. "Those are good points."

Hermione inclined her head toward where Daphne had gone. "You two seem good. Better."

"We are. We had some good talks this break. I finally got to really apologise. Say everything I've always wanted to say to her about what happened. And she accepted my apology."

"That's wonderful, Theo."

"And I want to be there for her. Be that person for her again." His eyes flashed soft blue. "And that doesn't necessarily mean romantically. I just want to be in her life the way I was before."

Hermione looked at him sitting there, his beautiful face so sincere, and thought it would be a minor miracle if Daphne didn't let it turn into something romantic as soon as she was ready.

"It seems like she's open to that."

Theo nodded slowly. "Are you OK, though? Really?" He reached across the space between them and took Hermione's hands.

She squeezed his back. "I am. I loved what we had. Have." She looked into his eyes. "Every part of it. I have no regrets. And I fully intend to keep you in my life." She smiled a little. "Any partner either of us has is going to need to be OK with that."

"Absolutely." But then he looked to the side.

"What?" Hermione caught his eye.

"It's just…Draco and me. After New Year's. If you ever—it ah, might be a bit of a tall order for us to be OK with each other again."

"What happened!? I told you not to— "

"It wasn't me!" Theo pulled his hands away and put both palms up. "It was him." He shook his head. "I think when he saw me there and it looked like I was with Daph—" He grimaced. "He was not happy about it. In fact, that's an extreme understatement. He was more angry than I've ever seen him. He even pushed Lucius aside… We had words. Almost had blows. He understood in the end, but... " Theo closed his eyes then opened them. "Anyway, there's no doubt in my mind that his feelings for you are still very immediate. And now that we know about this spell… I think we can assume the engagement was in some way involuntary." He looked back at Hermione, whose mind had begun to race again.

"I'm not sure if any of that matters if he's bound," she murmured. "Ohh, I need to get to the library!"

Theo laughed. "I'll bet you do. Is that what's next then?"

"I am going to research this. I want to get to the bottom of it. Even if it's just to help him get free of it and nothing more."

Theo gave her a look and Hermione felt herself flush.

"Friends need to be honest with each other," he said after a moment.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I am serious about focusing on myself and my future. I meant that. I have seven fucking N.E.W.T. exams in less than six months! But I do… still have feelings for him." She winced, feeling the keen awkwardness of saying this to Theo, but knowing it was the way forward if they were going to continue as friends. "And now I know that there may be reasons why he's acted the way he has—not that I'm excusing him!—but I guess I need to understand and I'm just trying to be realistic?"

Theo nodded.

"It's just. Why didn't he bloody talk to me about it?" Hermione threw out her arms.

"Maybe he couldn't." Theo shrugged.

"Right, right. Another thing I need to look into."

A silence stretched in the room. "Are you going to try to talk to him?" Theo asked softly.

Hermione looked at him, her mind sifting through scenarios, memories of her various confrontations with Draco over the last few months. "I don't think so, yet," she said slowly, even though part of her wanted to lie in wait for Draco and batter at him until he gave her answers she wanted. "At least, not until I know more," she continued. "Maybe I find out that nothing can be done. He's been fatalistic about it since he got here. And there were months between when we think this binding was done and when he arrived. Months when he could have been trying to get free."

Or months when he was formulating how to cut her loose and make her stay away.

"True." Theo was nodding. "I know if I were in his shoes and there were anything that could have been done…" He spread his hands.

"Right." Hermione's mind went inward again. Had Draco been fighting for them? Or letting them go? She might never know, but a weight settled in her stomach as she contemplated what he may have been going through these last several months.

"Back to us, though." Theo's voice pulled Hermoine into the present and she felt his warm hand take hers. "I just want you to know that I feel the same as you do. No regrets about a second of it." He shook his head and his eyes bored into hers, clear and frank. "I love you. And I don't think it really matters what category that love falls into."

Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes. "Same, Theo." she managed to say. "Same."

"And I am available for all getaways and road trips!" Theo's eyes went shiny too.

"Maybe just not overnight ones?"

He laughed. "Right. And we should probably avoid broom closets."

Hermione laughed too. "Wait, I have something for you!" she said, getting up and going to rummage in her bag. "Your last two tapes." She held them out. "This is a jazz one, Miles Davis and a few others—I consulted with my dad on it—and this is classical. It's got two composers; Chopin on one side and Mozart on the other. My mum helped with that."

He took them. "Thank you. I've loved the others so much. Freely admit to crying several times when listening to A Fisher and a Farmer."

Hermione chuckled, but felt a little twist in her gut as he looked at her. Even if this felt right, it wasn't exactly easy.

"There's a song I really wish I would have added to that one. I listened to it over break." Hermione dabbed at her eyes. "Although it actually makes more sense now..."

"Oh? What's it called?"

"'Simple Twist of Fate.' It's by Bob Dylan. Another of my dad's favourites. I actually taped the whole CD it's on." She looked through her bag again and pulled out a cassette. "Here, you can borrow it."

"Thank you." Theo's words were quiet and she could hear the same mix of sad certainty in his voice. See it in his face.

"Well." He stood up slowly. "I guess I'll let you get to the library." He attempted a smile, but it faltered.

Hermione stood too, the tears spilling from her eyes. "Oh, Theo." She was perfectly still for a moment, then rushed to him and threw her arms around him. "Promise me. Promise me we won't drift apart."

His arms went tightly around her and she felt his lips on the top of her head. "I promise. I won't let that happen. I have too few people in this world to let that happen."

"OK," she said, her breath coming fast. "OK."

His hand rubbed her back briefly before he gently disengaged and stepped away. "Lunch tomorrow?" he asked. "You and me in the Great Hall?"

She half laughed, half sobbed. "I'll be there."

⁂

A few hours later, Hermione scuttled back into her room behind a massive pile of books she was floating rather precariously. Luckily the castle was still quiet before the arrival of the Hogwarts Express, and she'd been able to research in peace. And although hunger had eventually driven her from the library, she wasn't nearly done interrogating the literature.

Carefully easing the teetering stack down next to her bed and plunking a plate of sandwiches on her desk, Hermione mentally reviewed her results so far. She'd cast a wide net, and the preliminary research had mostly reinforced what she already knew, but she had high hopes for some of the things she'd brought back for a closer look.

She grabbed a sandwich and the first book off the top of the pile and settled on her bed. A slim volume bound in dusty blue and tooled in trailing gold, she turned the book over and read the title; The Conduct Companion: A Manual for Well-Mannered Witches. Published in the 1830s, Hermione hoped it might include a section on common marriage and engagement spells of the time. She began flipping through, but after a few minutes realised the book was more of a moralising treatise on social niceties than an examination of methods for their enforcement. For example:

"You cannot be too circumspect in matters of love and marriage; and remember that whereas the character of a young witch is considered immaculate, any blemish in it, would withdraw the respect wizards have for you."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at this nonsense, but in the interest of completeness kept turning pages until she came to the book's punctilious end, then threw it aside in favour of the next volume in the stack. She went through and discarded this one and two others before looking up again, realising she had read the same paragraph on the elements of magical contracts four times without retaining it.

She took a bite from her sandwich and let the book fall closed.

What was she actually doing?

She looked around her room, at Theo's painting and the picture of them on the wall over her desk. She looked at the glossy catalog for Oxford University whose corner was peeking out of her duffel bag. She looked out the window at the cold, gray sky.

If Draco didn't want to be bound, wouldn't he have looked into these things himself? He'd had access and time.

And if he'd found anything, wouldn't he have done something about it? As Theo had said, wouldn't he have done everything he could to get free? To get back to her?

Or would he?

Hermione had no idea what Astoria's motivations or wishes might be—especially if her health or survival were involved—but Draco's were also unclear to her. She had to entertain the possibility that he didn't want to break the spell. Maybe the binding was something he'd exactly welcomed, but also wasn't fighting against? There had seemed a sort of resignation in his actions ever since he'd arrived at school.

Hermione chewed silently and stared at nothing, reviewing what Theo had said about the ball and her more recent encounters with Draco: those fraught moments in the shop, in the hallway outside McGonagall's office. Yes, he'd shown a pull toward her, but each time he'd turned away—shades of San Cipriano. And yes, he'd been angry at New Year—while attending a public event at his fiancee's house.

Hermione snorted aloud in frustration.

So maybe there was part of him that wanted her, but a larger part of him that didn't—or at least realised it wouldn't work between them? "Italy was the aberration," he'd famously said. Maybe the time back at his home and with his own people had reminded him of his place, and her place.

Heaving herself up, Hermione snatched another sandwich from the plate and took a morose bite.

In either case, was it wise for her to throw herself at this problem? Especially when she finally seemed to be getting out from under the heartache that had dogged her since she'd left Italy? Especially when she had seven bloody N.E.W.T.'s to prepare for?

Hermione's foot tapped as she contemplated the glowing embers in her hearth.

Of course, there was the possibility that the spell itself had prevented him.

Her eyes darted to her books again.

And it was fairly clear that she couldn't ask him if that was the case. His raspy voice and two syllable sentences seemed to confirm that. And she wasn't quite ready for that anyway.

This was why it made sense to research as many sources as possible.

Research.

Sources.

All of the sources.

Hermione was moving toward the door before she had time to think about what she was doing.

Her soft steps took her down the girls corridor—sound and movement now coming from Susan's room as well as Daphne and Pansy's—and swiftly to the boys' floor. She crept along the hallway, her eyes darting to Dean's door, which was slightly ajar, and to Theo's, which was shut.

Draco's was shut too. And dark. An almost palpable air of abandonment drifted around it—in marked contrast to the times when she'd stood here and known he was within.

Hermione set her jaw and took out her wand.

A discreet unlocking charm had the door swinging open just wide enough for her to dart through. She pulled it shut behind her with a quick look over her shoulder, then turned to face the room.

It was dim, the heavy curtains drawn, and Hermione kept a hand on the doorknob while she let her eyes adjust. Blank walls, a neatly made bed, a clear desk—all was cold and dormant and silent. Hermione shivered slightly, muttering a warming charm as she moved into the center of the space.

What in the bloody hell was she doing? A voice of reason finally broke in on her mad impulses, reminding her that Draco could come back at any moment. There was no guarantee he was on the train. In fact, it was less than likely.

So she didn't have much time.

Hermione shook off the voice and went to his desk. She opened a drawer and picked carefully through. Couple of quills, a spell reference book, some sickles, a few loose toffees...

She slid the drawer shut and opened the next one, scoffing internally. What exactly was she looking for? A diary that revealed he still loved her? A guide to dismantling binding spells that he'd thrown in the trash? A pensieve and memories conveniently showing how the spell had been done and why he'd agreed to it? Hermione scoffed aloud this time, but went on opening and closing drawers and cupboards, still finding nothing. She moved on to his night table (a lot of empty Dreamless Sleep phials) and finally stooped (literally and figuratively) to look under his bed.

Still nothing.

And now she felt decidedly silly. And nervous. He really could be back at any moment.

Hermione made a frustrated sound even as she moved to Draco's wardrobe and flung it open. A waft of his scent twined around her as she flicked through his robes, bringing with it visceral memories of burying her face in his neck, twisting in his bedclothes, twining her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his lithe back.

She pushed a heavy coat aside rather aggressively and peered into the corners of the dark space. Funny, but she could see little drawers set into one side of the wall. Her wardrobe didn't have them and she wondered if he'd spelled them into being.

Maybe something to hold ties or his signet ring collection— who knew? Hermione pulled one open and snorted when she saw several rows of gleaming cufflinks nestled in deep red velvet within. The next drawer yielded a shoe care kit and Hermione almost didn't reach for the very bottom one, she was beginning to feel so foolish. But, completionist that she was, the compulsion to yank the last pull was too strong to resist.

Probably be a set of silver hair brushes or something.

But it wasn't silver.

It was bright blue.

A bright blue puff of fabric that seemed to burst from the drawer as if it had been hurriedly shoved there the last time it was put away.

Her scarf.

The lovely silk one from San Cipriano. The one she'd realised she'd forgotten—left hanging on the back of her bedroom door at the flat—not long after she'd floo'd away for good. She'd been bitterly disappointed because it had carried so many memories: the lovely day by the stream, Draco's gift of the perfume, what they'd done against that tree…

Hermione slid it out of the drawer and held it to her face.

The scent was still there, like a lens that sharpened memory and impression into immediacy. The soft nap of peaches in a sack, the crisp bite of fizzing white wine, the exact angle of light as it filtered through tall green grass. Hermione felt the warmth on her shoulders, tasted the fruit in her mouth, experienced the joy of Draco moving inside her.

A sob bubbled up in her throat.

He had this. Here. Hidden away.

Did he take it out and bury his face in it too?

Or was it shoved in a hidden place because he wanted to forget?

Hermione let the silk slip down through her fingers.

She truly didn't know, but she knew she wouldn't rest until she did.