It was around the time Theo was trying to reconcile his feelings for Granger that the first letter came to him. He took it cautiously from an odd-looking owl, the likes of which he'd never seen before. It observed Theo through protruding auburn eyes, urging him to open the envelope.

He recognised the handwriting straight away. Falling into an armchair by the crackling fire, he began to read.

Dear Theodore,

It's been a long time since I've heard your voice or seen the elegant script of your handwriting. I never told you this when we were in school, but I always looked forward to receiving your letters. I would wait by the window for Cecelia to bring them to me.

How is she?

I miss her almost as much as I miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

Sincerely,

Always sincerely,

Your friend,

Luna Lovegood

He balled it up in his fist and chucked it into the flames watching the edges curl and burn. Luna belonged to another life, not this one. Theo would keep it that way. And still, despite his silence, the letters continued to come, and the owl watched as he read every single one before flapping his broad wings and flying away.

After the third, he stopped throwing them into the fire but still couldn't find it in him to respond.

The day he received the fourth letter was the day of the book launch. Looking amongst the crowded ballroom of Nott Manor, he caught a glimpse of Hermione grinning. Her smile was crippling. He could never tell if she was genuinely happy or playing the part.

Theo snuck out and down the winding path leading to the garden ponds. In the far corner of the estate, there stood a lone iron bench along a pond filled with purple water lilies. It had been his favourite reading spot as a child. He'd sneak out here and read till the sun went down. These days it was the only place where he could find a modicum of peace. He sat down and pulled a flask from his robes. Removing the lid, he took a deep swig. The firewhiskey used to burn his throat going down, but now he scarcely felt a thing.

The only light in the gardens was the low-hanging full moon. It reminded him of Luna, and her letter residing like a secret in the pocket of his dress robes. He took it out and re-read it.

Dear Theodore,

I realise by now that you're ignoring my letters. Still, I continue to write to you because I'm certain one day you'll write back. I wanted to tell you that I was in Pennsylvania when I came across a Wilfur. I instantly thought of you, and that afternoon we spent at Hogwarts together. I still remember how silly you looked wearing my spectrespecs.

Your friend,

Luna

Theo re-read it again and again, till he had it memorised by heart. He tore it up and sprinkled the pond with its pieces. It was silly the way he had carried the letter around with him, but he supposed it was the pressure and weight of the thing he couldn't ignore. Some sentimental part of him wanted to write back. Enough time had passed for Luna to forgive him, but he couldn't imagine forgiving himself...

What could he do or say to make it up to her without revealing the truth? And it was the truth he so desperately wanted to avoid. Earlier today, he had written a response and chucked it out immediately after. The truth, on parchment, appeared ridiculous to him; that he had taken the mark to help Draco, that he had broken up with Luna to protect himself and then stunned her and Granger—

"What are you doing hiding out here?"

He had his wand drawn so fast, Hermione flinched. Her hand was on her throat, her lips open in a soft gasp. The long silver dress she was wearing made her glow under starlight. Theo gave an exasperated sigh and dropped his wand. "I'm drinking," he shrugged. "What's it look like?"

She pursed her lips in that way that made her look like a schoolmarm. "There are cocktails being served inside."

"Barely any alcohol in those froufrou drinks."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "Theo, come on."

"What? I just can't stand crowds. Can barely breathe in there."

"All your friends are there—"

"You mean your friends," he jeered muttering over her. "Surrounded by all you bleeding hearts. Don't know why you keep organising these things—"

"It's good PR. It's—"

"Bollocks!"

Hermione sat down next to him on the iron bench. "I see right through you, you know? You're not a bad wizard. You're…" She took a deep breath. "There's so much good in you."

He turned his head ever so slowly and regarded the woman beside him; an expression of utter disbelief was written all over his face. How could Hermione Granger possibly presume to know him, to presume there was anything good about him? His voice was thick, the words sticking in his throat. "You've no idea the things I've done."

Hermione gently shook her head, her curls bouncing. "I know. I remember what you did. I know—"

"You don't," he growled.

He watched as she swallowed nervously, the sound of it apparent in the silence of the night.

"It turns out Granger that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Not at all..."

"Just because you took the mark doesn't mean—"

"Do you really think Draco was the only one with blood on his hands? Have you not figured it out yet?" Hermione stared, her face pallid like stone. "The Carrows, Travers—"

She stood so abruptly it gave him pause. "We're going inside," she hissed. "And we're going back now! You've had too much to drink... as usual."

He stood too, stepping into her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Unfortunately it's a symptom of having to be around you."

Hermione's cheeks flushed with anger and she tried to snatch the flask out of his hand, but he hung on to it evading her attempts. "Theo," she huffed. "Just give it to me. I don't want you talking like this."

"Why?" he demanded. "Don't you want to know who else I've killed!"

She grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward her. "Theo, please, don't speak of such things! Don't ever…" her voice broke. "Come back inside with me."

"I'm perfectly fine where I am."

Hermione's hand slid down from his wrist to his fingers, caressing them lightly. Theo gulped as she raised her head, her eyes burning a hole through his black soul. "This is a momentous occasion..." she said softly, giving him a watery smile. "We're publishing Aberforth Dumbledore's memoir. Do you not realise how—?" she hesitated, scrambling for the words, overwhelmed by emotion. By the light of the moon, Theo could see the glistening of tears in her eyes. "Not only is this a huge success for Obscurus Books, but for you—for us. It might have been my idea, but you were the one to convince Aberforth that the world needed to hear his story, Ariana's story…" She stepped closer and Theo had to force himself not to look at her lips. "For tonight, can you just be here… with me… and let everything else go? I just want one night without…" His heart was racing, his fingers longing to intertwine with hers. She reached for the flask and this time he allowed her to take it from him. "I don't know what to do when you get like this. So please, just come back inside."

He gave a slow nod, disguising the way his body was alight so close to hers. And he noticed she wasn't leaving. She was staring at his lips. It dawned on him then that he could kiss Hermione Granger at any given time, and she would kiss him back.

Theo tore himself away, knowing he had to put distance between them before either did something irremediable. "Fine." He stepped around her and began walking back toward the Manor. Half a minute went by before he heard the soft padding of her footsteps catching up to him. No matter where he tried to hide, this girl always seemed to be able to find him.

Theo's day could not get any worse, and it was only seven-something in the morning. He was emotionally exhausted after his confrontation with Hermione. But everyone at the wedding was all smiles and cheer, and he had to fake it as he made his way through the crowd. Theo had never been more grateful to Daphne. Sensing his distress, she voluntarily did most of the mingling for him. Instead of asking if something was wrong, she hung on his arm and gave him a warm, reassuring smile that everything would be alright.

Still he couldn't help how his eyes would seek out Hermione without meaning to. When he'd told her he was leaving the country, it didn't come as a surprise that she hadn't tried to stop him. He knew, deep down in the marrow of his bones how things would end with her. Hermione Granger would always love Draco Malfoy, and any poor sap after that was only ever going to take second place.

At Hogwarts, he had resigned himself to losing Luna, and now he resigned himself to losing Hermione. Fortunately, Theo was the type of wizard, that once he made his mind up, he could easily accept the reality of things without the fuss of letting go. He would leave Britain and move on. It hurt now, but it would hurt infinitesimally less tomorrow, and then a little less the day after, and the week after that, till eventually, he felt nothing at all.

Daphne was engaged in conversation with Xenophilius Lovegood. Theo was in the middle of searching for a way to join in on the conversation, so as not to seem rude when he realised the band had stopped playing. The loud music and laughter had fallen to a murmur of whispers. He turned around just in time to see Kingsley, accompanied by a handful of Aurors. Amongst them was the awful Muggle woman who had questioned him at the Ministry the day before. Theo rolled his eyes. His day had just gotten infinitely worse.

"Kingsley," drawled Theo, as the Minister approached. "Funny seeing you here."

"Theodore Nott, you're under arrest for the murder of Corban Yaxley and Fenrir Greyback—"

A cry broke out, and his attention was drawn to Hermione as she made her way toward him. "No! You can't!"

He felt Daphne sidle closer and intertwine her arms around his protectively; a subtle gesture she made when she felt insecure or unsafe. It was of no use though. Two Auror's pulled him from her grasp and spun him around, binding his wrists. Daphne remained calm, but her eyes were glaring with righteous indignation. He mouthed to her to find Blaise and she gave the most imperceptible nod in return.

They spun him around again, and he was facing Kingsley once more. Agent Davies stood behind him, her eyes with steadfast determination. He could hear Hermione protesting but was only vaguely aware of the things happening around him. Truthfully he could barely concentrate on what anyone was saying above the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears. Corban Yaxley and Fenrir Greyback. Both murdered; one in Azkaban and the other in New York. It hadn't been him, and despite what Blaise thought, Theo knew Hermione could never raise her wand to kill another. "You can't just take him!" she cried.

Theo looked into her frightened wide eyes as they searched for answers he didn't have. His gaze drifted toward the wizard standing next to her...

Ronald Weasley.

For a fraction of a second, the redhead met his stare before resuming his efforts to hold Hermione back. That's when he realised that there were others who would have liked to see Corban Yaxley dead and there was only one wizard amongst them, who also happened to have the keys to Azkaban.

One of the Aurors shoved him forward. "Careful," he growled. "I bruise easily." Theo felt the pull of apparition and then before he knew it, he was back at the Ministry. His wand was confiscated, and he was being pushed into a small dimly lit room somewhere in the bowels of the building. Agent Davies took the seat opposite him and began firing question after question. He didn't so much as breathe a word. Blaise had prepared Theo for this, anticipating the worst-case scenario. He had planned a safety net. They would request a veritaserum test, and he would pass it with flying colours. What Theo hadn't been prepared for was when Davies magically produced Yaxley's wand.

"We found your little hidey-hole behind one of the empty portraits," she said, presenting it with a flourish, "do yourself a favour, Mister Nott… confess."

Davies sighed, the wand lying between them on the table, no doubt meant to frighten him. Theo stared at the offending object, as still as stone, but his thoughts were focused and narrowed on Ronald Weasley. He laid the facts out visually before him in order, and they looked, in his mind, a little like this:

1. Someone is framing me for the murders of Corban Yaxley and Fenrir Greyback.

2. Corban Yaxley killed Fred Weasley and Lucius.

3. George Weasley was out with Angelina Johnson at a party, the night of the murder.

4. Arthur and Molly Weasley were at home with their sons Percy Weasley, Bill Weasley and their daughter-in-law, Fleur Delacour.

5. Charlie Weasley had returned to Romania after Fred's funeral and had remained there since.

6. Pansy had confessed earlier on, that she had been with Ronald Weasley the night Corban Yaxley was killed at a hotel in Muggle London. I verified her story. Under the haze of my Imperius curse, the hotel clerk confirmed that two guests under the name of Parkinson had checked in around noon and checked out the next morning.

7. Ronald Weasley was head Auror of the MLE and had ample opportunity to kill Fenrir Greyback.

8. Yaxley's wand was found in my ancestral home.

9. Only Blaise, Hermione and Pansy have access to the Manor.

10. Ronald Weasley could not have broken through the wards to plant Yaxley's wand.

11. Fenrir Greyback confessed to killing Draco.

12. Draco's body was never found.

He blinked, his eyes re-focusing onto Agent Davies. One thing kept niggling at him. "Who found the wand?" he asked.

She couldn't suppress the slight curving of her lips as Theo broke his silence. "Does it matter?" she said. "The point is that we found it."

He drew a deep breath, becoming impatient. "I'd like to know who it was that found it."

She studied him for a few moments, most likely weighing the consequences of telling him. "Fine," she shrugged. "I don't see any harm in telling you… With your father's history as a Death Eater, it wasn't difficult for us to convince Kingsley to issue a search warrant. While you were out, we removed your wards and went in. Tight security system by the way. I wonder what else you're hiding."

Theo smiled. "Did Ronald Weasley join your little raiding party?"

Her eyes narrowed on him, finding his question strange. "No," she said slowly. "My partner did. Agent Finn."

Theo frowned and added it to the list of facts. Number thirteen.

Davies stood taking back the wand. She presented him with a Muggle pen and paper, laying it down before him. Moving around the table she took his hands and un-cuffed him. "Like I said," she muttered, "do yourself a favour and confess." The door slam closed behind her.

Theo stared down at the blank piece of paper before him. He immediately took the pen in hand and began writing quickly, his script an illegible blur. The list was now laid out before him. He added number thirteen.

13. Agent Finn found Yaxley's wand.

He then went through the list beginning from one. Then to simplify things he added point fourteen and fifteen.

14. Ronald Weasley had motive to kill Corban Yaxley but could not have done so.

15. Ronald Weasley had no motive to kill Fenrir Greyback but had access to Azkaban and its prisoners.

The nib of the pen pressed down on the full stop, going through the paper. There was something Theo was missing, something so obvious. He only had to make the connection. Taking a calming breath, he went back to the mystery of Yaxley's wand. Someone was framing him. He could hear Blaise's voice telling him that Granger was setting him up. Did she have motive? Yes. Was it physically possible for her to have hidden the wand at Nott Manor? Yes. But did she? Absolutely not. He had learned her heart and her mind. He loved her and was steadfast in his decision to exclude her from his list of suspects.

Yet he could not overlook her importance.

His hand shook as he wrote down number sixteen.

16. I slept with Hermione Granger.

Theo's body seized with dread as he stared at the page before him. There was only person who would want to see him rot in Azkaban.

The door suddenly swung open. Blaise burst forth, flustered and furious. "Theo—good they've taken off the cuffs—don't worry, everything's taken care of," he said reassuringly. "You'll be out of here in a few hours, at most."

"I lied," said Theo quietly, "I lied to you before."

Blaise swivelled, closing the door with some urgency. "Don't say another word. I've already filed a motion for dismissal pending a veritaserum test. I'm going to take care of this, I'm—"

"I acted on it. I slept with Hermione..."

His friend's jaw clenched. Several moments went by without either saying anything.

"You idiot," he whispered. "You utter fool."

The door swung open once more. Blaise turned, "I'm not finished speaking with my cli—!"

He stopped dead. Potter was at the door out of breath, his face flushed.

"Merlin!" exclaimed Blaise. "What the hell's the matter with you? What's going on?"

Potter looked over at him from the doorway, and their eyes locked. "It's Draco," whispered Theo, feeling a tear begin to run freely down his cheeks. "He's come home."

Three days later, Theo was seated in the living room of Malfoy Manor with Pansy and Mrs Malfoy. Blaise had refused to come. It seemed he couldn't stand to be in the same room with Pansy, let alone sit next to her. Theo knew not to ask twice. He was livid with Pansy and disappointed with Theo for having known and not told him. Despite everything, the truth was that Theo had hoped Blaise would never find out. He didn't want things to change more than they already had. In time, he thought, Pansy would come to her senses and end things with Weasley. After a few years, it would seem as if it had never happened. Instead, Pansy confessed.

"It's always nice to see you both," smiled Mrs Malfoy. They smiled back politely, feeling a little awkward. Pansy was fidgeting in her seat and politely refused the cup of tea she was offered. Theo had told her to be patient and broach the topic carefully but, before he could stop her, Pansy was blurting out everything. An indignant rant seemed to flow from her lips without conscious awareness of what she was saying.

"—and I think it's only fair—after all this time—after all that he's put us through—years—it's been years—we deserve to see him!"

Narcissa watched her with careful appraisal. "Of course," she said once Pansy had finished. "I understand." Then her eyes snapped to Theo's. "I'm sure Draco would be happy to see you both."

He cleared his throat. "I'm not so sure of that."

"Well, I am," retorted the Malfoy matriarch, raising her chin. "I know my son."

"Did you know what he was doing?" demanded Pansy. "Couldn't you have stopped him?"

She folded her hands delicately, ignoring the accusatory tone of Pansy's voice.

"I suspected he was responsible for Corban Yaxley when Severus showed me the papers, but I wasn't aware of Draco's quarrel with you, Theodore. I didn't know what he had planned to do and, for that, I sincerely apologise..."

Theo shook his head. "It's my fault."

"And you know how sensitive and unreasonable he can be," she finished with a quirk of her lips.

Pansy scoffed. "I wouldn't call framing someone for murder as unreasonable," she muttered under her breath. "Maybe insane. I mean honestly, I can't believe he just—" her eyes began blinking furiously, and Theo knew they ought to leave before the waterworks started. Pansy seemed inconsolable these days. With her world tilting on its axis, she was coming apart. Her relationship with Blaise was irreparable and after just recently having discovered the true paternity of her child, Pansy doubted that Weasley would remain devoted to her. That Draco had tried framing Theo for murder made Pansy's blood boil. That he had been alive this entire time and not told Pansy, well that broke her heart in ways, Theo knew, only another woman could understand.

Without trying to appear too eager, he asked Mrs Malfoy, "So where is he?"

She looked at them apologetically. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. The Ministry is still looking for him and if either of you are called in for questioning then..."

"We understand."

"But I can arrange a portkey," she said quickly, sensing Pansy's agitation. "Elma will bring it to you tomorrow."

"Thank you. We'll make sure we're not being watched."

They remained there for a few minutes so as not to appear rude, but Theo could feel Pansy squirm impatiently next to him. Not needing to be escorted to the fireplace, they said goodbye and took their leave. Standing before the Floo, Theo asked his friend if she needed anything.

"No, I'm going to Ron's flat. I'm meant to meet his parents tonight."

Theo gently pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "It's going to be okay, Pans."

She returned his hug, squeezing him tightly before letting go. He kissed her on her forehead and wished her luck before stepping into the flames.

The next day the portkey came as promised. He sent word to Pansy immediately to arrange a time to leave. It was how he found himself standing outside a Spanish villa the next morning, waiting with a sense of foreboding, for someone to answer the door.