The Lovegood Gala

Dining Room

2004

Hermione checked her makeup in the compact mirror one more time before stepping through the Floo directly onto the Red Carpet entrance. Luna was waiting for her, dressed in the most wonderfully obnoxious dress Hermione had ever seen her in. It was as big as a door entrance and everything was moving; one moment Hermione was sure she was looking at a leaping manticore, no, now the dress was a bleating unicorn, now it was…

She blinked, smiling at Luna.

She'd always been predictable in that she would be unpredictable.

In her current state of the upheaval of her entire life, this was something Hermione was so pleased to see. She was pretty sure she would have had to turn straight home if she appeared and Luna was dressed in something utterly pedestrian. She knew many of the backers of the gala had been urging her to do so, and part of Hermione had been fearful she'd cave.

But she hadn't, and Hermione was so pleased.

Draco was waiting with her, wearing a simple and perfectly cut wizarding robe in an easy black. With his strong jaw, Hermione for a second understood what Luna saw in him when she gushed about how attractive he was.

"Granger, you look...acceptable."

Ah, yes, then Draco opened his mouth, and Hermione was reminded why Draco was someone she'd never fancied seriously.

"Draco, charming, as always." It had been years, though, since his barbs had hurt her feelings. They weren't quite as venomous anymore, granted.

"Oh, hush! You look stunning, Hermione!" Luna squealed, running forward, hugging her tightly. She pulled back to look at Hermione's dress and makeup. She hoped Luna was not about to critique it; they were seconds away from stepping onto the red carpet, and there was no time to change, "Drop dead gorgeous, you know." She said.

Hermione smiled. The dress was not one out of her comfort zone. She wasn't wearing a 'break-up dress' as Hannah had suggested ever so innocently, or more specifically, something that would make Ron go red when he saw her in the papers.

No, that just wasn't Hermione. She was hurt, angry, sad...but most of all relieved. She didn't want any reason for Ron to come running back,

Sure, there were moments when she found a funny line in a book and she wanted to mark the page to show it to him later, or she had found a restaurant yesterday and her first thought was that Ron would go crazy here, but overall...she felt like a pressure had been lifted.

It was an old classic. In fact, it was one of her mother's dresses. She only had to hem and fit it slightly, but otherwise, she'd realized she had her mother's figure. It was a dress she recalled her mother wearing on an anniversary dinner.

Hermione had thought her mother had never looked more beautiful, and she needed that sort of support of a parent right now more than ever.

It was a simple silhouette, nothing that yelled over the glitzy and glittery things Hermione saw people wearing out of the corner of her eye. The color was a muted red, almost wine. She was wearing lipstick to match, and her grandmother's diamond earrings.

She felt like the culmination of a Granger woman in this.

"Let's go," Luna said, linking arms, "My first gala! Oh, Hermione, you have no idea how excited I am."

The trio walked down the red carpet and Hermione automatically smiled and posed for the cameras. She realized how second nature it was to her, after so many shoots and times when the wizarding journalists had wanted her image after the war.

The last time she'd been photographed was, well, at least a year ago.

France gave her the privacy to become someone much less public, and she was missing that ability right now.

It was being held at the Scamander Manor. As Hermione walked through the halls, she saw many curios of adventures with magical creatures hanging in every nook and cranny. Nothing distasteful, like animal heads. No, there was an obvious love for the creatures that Newt had cared for in his years, and this was a shrine to their wonderfulness.

Rolf was waiting for them at the top stairs of the grand staircase. They were set to make a grand speech, and of course, needed last moments to prepare.

"I need a drink," Draco sighed, "Wine?" He asked Hermione as he jerked his thumb towards the bar.

Hermione winced, "Quite." She agreed.

She never felt comfortable here. She wanted to. This sort of party was the thing she had dreamed of as a child for so long, but the reality of it was far different than her expectations.

In most places, she was the star of attention. The notoriety had waned in recent years, but then again, she'd taken herself out of the picture herself. So now that she was back, she saw people pointing and whispering.

If she was someone of less renown, this would be more enjoyable, she figured.

There were of course plenty of people she knew here, people Hermione had not talked with in eons. She waved awkwardly to Lisa Turpin, Demelza Robbins, and Wayne Hopkins in the time it took Draco to return.

But she didn't know any of those people well, and at most, it would be a quick chat.

Hannah would be around, though likely far too busy in the kitchens to chat before the gala. So Neville was lurking somewhere if she could find him. Ginny should be here. She knew Faye was absolutely around; she was never late to anything, if anything, she probably had arrived before the crew had started decorating. The joke at Faye's timeliness made Hermione snort.

"What?" Draco passed her a stem of a wine glass.

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering who I'll spend my time with, since of course, Luna will be busy. Hannah too."

"Well," Draco sipped on a glass of aged Firewhisky. Hermione could smell the burning tannins from where she stood, "There's someone here who desperately wants to see you."

Hermione tilted her head, "Don't say Ron somehow found a reason to come," She groaned, going stiff and searching the crowd.

"What? No, of course not," Draco laughed, "It's-,"

"Mr. Malfoy! We need you up here too," Luna's publicist for the event waved at Draco frantically, "We have some questions on the potion."

"Who?" Hermione asked, grabbing his arm as he began to leave.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, Hermione. You are the Smartest Witch of our age," He rolled his eyes as he exited, leaving Hermione to stand lonely in the receiving room of the manor.

"Bloody snake," Hermione hissed to herself, grumpily, as she drank her wine.

She occupied herself for some of her time by reading all the titles of the books on the shelves here, pressing herself to the walls and trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. She made small-talk with a few old school friends, but for the most part, found the silence of her musings most enjoyable.

The room was growing more and more filled as people arrived.

Hermione decided to go and sit in the dining room. It was likely to be close to dinner anyway.

She knew who she'd be sitting with. One benefit of knowing the host was getting to know all the little details of the planning, and she'd asked about a month ago when everyone had RSVP'd. It was in bad form to RSVP any later than that, something Draco had taught her. Something she would have never known otherwise.

She would be at a table with Hannah, Neville, Faye, Seamus, and Ernie. A table that made her feel safe. It was a table of her friends, people she could have easy conversations with.

Hannah, likely, would be worrying about the food the whole time. When she really focused on something, she was laser-focused. She was also a bit of a tornado, so it would be a kind thing for Hermione to let her be tonight.

Neville would be a good conversation, as would Ernie.

She hadn't seen Faye as often as she wanted to see her. They'd had a bit of a falling out a few years ago, something related to Ron, and well it didn't matter anymore did it? So yes, reconnecting with Faye would be exactly what she needed.

And Seamus?

As she walked through the grand doors to the oversized ballroom, Hermione had to laugh. She imagined she and Seamus would be in stitches tonight.

"Did you hear Ron broke up with me? Do you want to know why? It's because he was sure we were sleeping together. That list from the hotel job? You remember that?" She whispered under her breath, imagining the conversation.

Seamus liked Ron. They were good mates, of course. But he'd find it hilarious that this is why they'd broken up. She and Seamus had arguably become better friends than he and Ron had. That summer working together had been more bonding than the war in some ways, because it was, well, real life.

As she approached the table, she stopped. The wine glass nearly fell through her hand.

Sitting at the table she was sure was supposed to be hers sat Theodore Nott.

He was wearing a muggle suit, cut exactly to fit.

He was watching something out of view and hadn't noticed Hermione yet, so she got a sinfully selfish moment to just watch him.

His hair was brushed over and as the lights swung, they highlighted blonde highlights she'd never noticed. His jaw was strong and had just a bit of stubble, very precisely left. He was also wearing glasses. She recalled that he'd mentioned needing some in one of their meetings, and these didn't make him seem dorky as one might expect. No, it was the opposite.

The frame was expensive and curated. The way it sat on his nose made him seem well-read and intelligent but also approachable and warm. Whoever had helped him pick his glasses knew exactly what they were doing.

What they had been doing was making any girl in the room weak in the knees.

"Mione!" Seamus came up behind Hermione, swinging an arm around her, "You forget how to move yer legs?"

Hermione realized she'd embarrassingly stopped dead in the middle of the paths to the tables in the dining room and people had been walking around her for a few moments.

"Err, I was wondering if I forgot my purse at the bar. It's in my hand."

It was a terrible lie, but Seamus was so easy-going, he didn't seem to notice.

"I'm bloody starved. When's Hannah gunna start?" He asked Neville, who was coming up behind him.

As Neville gave Hermione a quick hug, Hermione couldn't help but smile at them. At all of them, standing here.

Who would have thought that they'd get here? That they'd all survive Voldemort and make it to this day, where they sat around in a fancy mansion in their expensive dress clothes drinking expensive alcohol? It was almost too good to believe sometimes.

"Shouldn't be long now. She decided to switch up all the soups at the last moment, so even it's the most terrible thing you've ever tasted, pretend like it's liquid gold," He warned Seamus.

"I'd eat foam insulation if it came with dining utensils and never make a face. I'm ready for dinner," Seamus assured Neville.

Now with two friends by her side, Hermione mustered some of the courage she had to move to the table. Ernie had already found his spot.

Perhaps he was confused.

That had to be it; their table was already full.

"Theo?" Seamus tilted his head, "Mate, it's been years," He said warmly, not the reaction Theodore nor Hermione had been expecting.

"Good to see you," Neville nodded. Theo nodded absently to both of them, but looked up and caught Hermione's eye.

"Miss Granger," He greeted.

"You…"

Hermione was a smart girl. In fact, she was a brilliant one. But as she stood there, it was like her brain forgot every word in existence, and she found herself floundering for the simplest of words and phrases.

"Your chair?" Theo said, standing and pulling out the chair next to his. He was seated next to Ernie.

Wait, wasn't Faye supposed to be there?

Hermione took two steps around the circular table. She stared hard at her name in shiny glimmering letters, and then at the words on the place holder next to hers.

Theodore Nott.

"You're not supposed to be here."

She knew it came across as cold because Neville shot her a frown and a disapproving glare, but she couldn't help it. What was he doing here? It wasn't fair for him to show up like this, to make her heart pound and her legs feel like jelly. It wasn't fair that she had to spend an entire evening like this, pretending that they weren't...they weren't…

What Theo was doing was cruel, not her!

"Change of plans I suppose. Apparently, Faye knows Daphne's French boyfriend and she felt like he might feel more at ease with her there."

"Boyfriend? Haven't you heard? They got married!" Ernie snorted, then his face dropped a bit, remembering who Theo was in relation to Daphne, "Oh, blimey, I would have thought...you two dated for so long…"

"Daphne's married?" Hermione echoed.

"Yeah, apparently it was a quiet event. Not a big deal. I only knew because Michael was there and we play squash on Thursdays." Ernie rubbed his chin, "Guess that's why you were switched."

Hermione winced. Yes, the most awkward thing would be for Daphne to have to sit at a table with her ex and her new husband.

Hermione was sure that someone, perhaps an intern, had made this table switch without a second thought. Of course, they wouldn't know Hermione's history with Theo, why should they? It was foolish of Hermione to think that the world was out to get her specifically, or this change had anything to do with herself.

"Oh, well, welcome to the table," Hermione said to Theo, nodding stiffly.

"Thank you," He said quietly, motioning to her chair.

Hermione exhaled hard as she sat, waving over a waiter, "I'll have another wine," She said, pointing to her empty glass.

She was going to need it. Maybe something stronger.

She'd need all the luck in the world to resist Theo when he was sitting right next to her, so close she could smell his cologne.

And it just made her think of their kiss on the streets.

It was the same scent, she realized, so smelling it now made her body seize all funny, her heart pound, and her legs clench.

"You okay?" Theo asked, fingers brushing her arm.

"You still have my books," Hermione muttered.

"I suppose I do. I thought you'd come to collect," He said, blinking at her.

"I…" She didn't have a good answer, other than she was dealing with Ron and the fall-out and everything with that, "I'd like them back."

"You're free to collect them at your convenience. They're in my shop in Paris. I can give you the address at the end of tonight?"

"I can find it," Hermione said.

If she kept to simple phrases, quick answers, she could get through this meal sitting next to Theo.

She wasn't in control of her own emotions right now. She sometimes thought she was two seconds away from kissing him senseless or from sobbing loudly. She, once again (as she told herself) did not Ron back, but she'd been with Ron for eight years. Her brain wasn't always caught up that this was a good thing, and sometimes the sadness just overtook her.

It was just too new, like a fresh and still bleeding wound.

So she couldn't open that up with Theo.

Not that he even wanted her, that is. The most likely scenario here was that she'd make an utter fool of herself if she threw herself at him.

Most times, the people you liked didn't like you back. And this was simply how life was.

Hannah arrived, rounding out their table. She smiled at Hermione but didn't seem surprised to see Theo sitting there at all. She was probably preoccupied with her job tonight, and if anything, Hermione reckoned she hadn't realized he was there at all.

"Dinner gunna be soon?" Seamus asked, his stomach grumbling.

"In a few, yes," Hannah nodded, eyes flashing, "I think we should go back to the original soup. I'm going to-,"

"Stay here, because everything will be fine," Neville tugged her back down, "You worry far too much."

"It's going to be amazing if Draco is right," Theo said, "He's been raving about your bread for weeks now."

"Thanks, Theo," Hannah sighed, "There are just a lot of people here that could really change my business if they like it, but tank it if they hate it."

So Hannah did realize that Theo was sitting there instead of Faye.

Hermione frowned. How strange.

Neville looked at Hermione and grunted empathetically, a sort of 'keep-her-occupied' sort of expression. While Hermione would have loved to hyper-focus on why Theo was here, but more importantly why no one else was as bothered as she was, she knew her friend needed her. She switched places with Neville and asked Hannah a thousand and one questions about her new house until the servers came around with the first course.

It was the soup Hannah was so worried about.

Hermione would have been happy to remain sitting next to Hannah, but Hannah looked for Neville. Hermione knew she had to move.

She sat back in her spot and tried to ignore Theo, despite the fact that he could always be seen out of one corner of her eye. As she leaned in for her first taste of the soup, something brushed against her leg, close to her hip.

Hermione spat out her soup as her knee hit the top of the table. Everyone around her table looked at her with concern, except for Hannah, who went ashen.

"Oh, it's too spicy, isn't it? I just knew it!" Hannah seemed about to melt into a puddle of embarrassment and shame. Seamus sent Hermione a very dirty look, as though to say 'don't you know she's fragile'.

"No! No, it's not that at all, see?" Hermione said over-enthusiastically. It was not the best soup she'd ever had, but she pretended to like it was ambrosia. She grabbed the entire bowl and sipped it, nodding to Hannah, who sniffled and offered a quiet laugh.

"That's really quite poor table manners," Theo said, and while it may have been a joke, she was too busy remembering why she was guzzling soup to really investigate his tone.

"It is," Hannah agreed teasingly, wiping her eyes, "Merlin, I'm such a mess today. Forgive me?"

"Always, Abbot. You're our girl, you know," Ernie assured, squeezing her shoulder.

"I love you, bunny," Neville murmured softly, sweetly.

"You're incredible, and any sane person would be nervous," Hermione jumped in, angry about her own issues when not one but two of her best friends were having major and incredible career breakthroughs today.

"You can come to my house and cook for me any time!" Seamus agreed with a wink, "I'll pay yeh, of course. Wouldn't be fair otherwise. Me mum's on my case for the hols this year; think I could pass one of your hams off as me own?"

Hannah gave a snort, "Madam Finnegan is far too smart to fall for that and you know it, Sea." Hannah said.

Neville looked around the table and then gave a little nod to Theo as if pushing him to praise Hannah too. Which was silly. Theo hardly knew Hannah. However, Theo gave a friendly smile, the sort of smile that had drawn Hermione in so many years ago.

"Hannah, you are without a doubt the coolest Hufflepuff I know. You're the definition of what it means; any first year would be so lucky to have you as someone they look up to."

Hannah thought about it for a second, and then she beamed. Hermione realized his words were utterly truthful. They were so sincere she had to assume there was something that had happened between them that she did not know.

She wasn't sure if she had the right to feel frustrated by this. Hannah was allowed to have friends and interactions that she didn't share. She had the prerogative to be friends with Theo and never tell Hermione. But still, knowing how Hermione felt, wouldn't that be cruel of her?

Unless…

"You are thinking very hard about something, Granger," Theo teased, leaning in, "I can only assume arithmancy from the way you're staring at your empty soup bowl."

You, Hermione wanted to yell, I'm thinking about you, you dunce.

But how could she?

The rest of the dinner continued as expected. The courses came promptly and perfectly timed. Hannah couldn't quite enjoy it, not that Hermione was surprised, as one eye always seemed to be focused on zeroing in on that one witch that was making a puckered face after a first taste.

So it became the table's sole job to keep her attention fixed on things strictly within the confines of their circle table.

Neville took the lion's share, knowing exactly how to lead her away from the edge of self-doubt, before passing the proverbial baton to someone else.

Theo took the first shift, actually, during the second appetizer course between the soup and salad, to talk to Hannah about some of the potions he was working on and discuss the different uses of herbs in food and herbs in potions. It was a highly engaging and intelligent conversation, not that Hannah couldn't keep up, but Hermione was surprised at his utter kindness displayed. He did not have to do that. He could have left that job for everyone else at the table.

Ernie took the salad course, talking excitedly about his internship with the Ministry of Magic, specifically how he hoped to become an Unspeakable.

Seamus took the main course, taking Hannah through all of his new mixed drink concoctions in excruciating detail, and making her pair her best dishes with each, and if she could not, make something up on the spot. He blabbered about this old bar in his barn he was renovating, and hoping to open to the public - and more specifically the Battle of Hogwarts survivors - soon.

Hermione knew she'd be next for the dessert course, and was trying to decide what would best distract Hannah's wandering mind when she felt it. Hands creeping, telling her that the first brush during the soup had not been a mistake.

The fingers crawled up her knee, up to her thighs, and rested there at the start of the main course. It stayed there.

Hermione thought everyone must realize what was happening, what with it being strange that Theo was eating with one hand, but everyone was so focused on Hannah's internal struggle and worries that, actually, no one did.

He didn't even have to do much to set Hermione's veins blazing; even being close enough to catch whiffs of his cologne was driving her insane. It made it worse by the tiny circles he began to draw on the inside of her thigh, teasing, edging closer and closer, but never quite touching, all the while Theo managed to keep a completely casual composure during the full meal.

When it was dessert, and Hermione's time, she was sure Theo was going to make this difficult for her, by possibly ramping up his sexual flirtations, but he did the unexpected.

He pulled his hand away, giving Hermione full attention to her best friend.

As the plates were swapped, Hermione struggled with herself, trying to decide if she was relieved she wouldn't be caught on the front of Witch Weekly with Theo's hand up her skirts, or if she was disappointed he didn't take it farther. She had been half tempted to grasp his hand under the table and bring it to where she wanted his fingers most, up the ante a bit.

Still, to step back from this was surprising.

She tilted her head, lips forming into a slightly downturned front, a question, and Theo gave her an easy smile in return with a small shrug of his shoulders, nearly imperceptible. Then, he nodded his head toward Hannah, leaning back in his chair, clear that he had no intention to mess with her right now.

At that moment, Hermione was almost sure she loved him.

She had thought it was some big game. She knew how Slytherins operated. She knew the vile games the men boasted about in their bars and men's clubs. She knew many friends that had been nothing more than notches on bedposts to a number of Slytherins, such as Blaise or Pucey.

She had been expecting the game. She had been re-routing her brain to try to figure out what his prize was, what he wanted. She wanted to play on equal footing with him. More than that, she wanted to best him.

And something that would have given him an upper hand was to trip her up when she was holding a conversation with Hannah about her home renovations and the dueling basement she was making. But he wasn't.

Because he respected Hannah. Or he at least respected Hermione.

She could not be sure which, but did it matter? He could have won his game right then and thereby being cruelly sexy and dastardly, but he chose not to.

Dessert passed swiftly, more so because Hermione's brain was elsewhere, eyes continually flickering to Theo's hands, wishing they were between her thighs.

Perhaps this was the game, she realized. Leave her wanting more. And maybe she'd fallen into it like a fool.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Theo hissed as Draco began his obligatory speech.

"I'm not…" Hermione huffed.

"You're eyes are narrowed. What are you trying to figure out?" He asked, half amused, half concerned.

She wanted to reply, 'what your angle is, of course', but kept her lips sealed. She could not possibly tell him that half of her mind was trying to unravel his plot and the other half of her mind was unraveling the clothes off him as she stared. She opted for a serene smile.

"Does it bother you that I'm staring?" She asked.

Theo's eyes were dark, "Not a bit."

Hermione sighed, leaning back, "Only thinking good things," She assured, hoping this would make him return his attention forward. Instead, Theo pushed himself into her personal space, his hands pressing, just briefly on the top of her thigh as he whispered;

"I'd prefer it if were naughty, bad things."

And then he settled himself back in his chair as though he hadn't made her face blush and her mind fill with terrible, wonderful things with a snap of his wit.

Damn, going head-to-head with Theo was proving more difficult than imagined.

By the time Draco encouraged people to begin to dance, award presentations later, Hermione was itching to figure out her next move.

"Oi! Hermione!"

Someone was calling her name across the ballroom. She turned, face lighting up.

"Derek!" She said to the last person she thought she'd see, "Didn't you go abroad to Bombay?" She asked, standing to greet him. It had been years since she'd seen her 'little brother'.

"For a while, but I'm back for tonight," He said, "I thought that was you! Dance?" He offered. While at Hogwarts, he'd been a few inches shorter, he'd now shot up to tower above Hermione.

She turned to Theo, who was ordering an after-dinner drink from the bartender. She did not want to seem like a moon-eyed girl who clung to her crush, and she had much to think about (specifically, the ball was in Hermione's court) so she gladly accepted.

"Derek, you've grown a beard," She said, grinning as she reached out to touch his chin.

"I think it's impressive, don't you agree?" He still had childish light in his eyes, though the beard made him look a few years older. She still found traces of his baby face underneath it, his cheekbones not sharpened out completely, and she was grateful for that.

They chatted and did a quick catch-up for the first part of the song. He and Morag had broken up five years ago; it was mutual. He wasn't hurt. Hermione told Derek about her newer injury of breaking up with Ron, though she wasn't upset, or not as upset as she'd thought.

"I really thought you two would get married," Derek said with a click of his tongue.

"Well, sorry to disappoint," Hermione said, her mood turning sour.

"No, no. It's not that I…" Derek seemed to struggle to express himself, "If you're happier, then good. I just…" He sighed, looking over Hermione's shoulder, "Were you sitting by Nott before?"

"Yes, I'm not sure why he's at our table, frankly," Hermione admitted. She didn't mention the war she had decided they were in, even if it were a flirty one and not a hateful one. That was more…personal.

"He's staring at you," Derek said simply. Hermione resisted the urge to throw herself around to see for herself but just managed a disinterested humm.

"In fact," Derek continued, "He's been staring at you all night. I thought it was you, but then I wasn't sure because it was Nott. But by Merlin, he hasn't taken his eyes away."

Hermione knew this wasn't true. She was fairly sure because she'd been staring at him most of the night.

Had Theo put Derek up to saying something too?

"I shouldn't be surprised, I guess," Derek finally said.

This caught Hermione off guard, "Huh? Why…it should surprise you," Hermione said, not understanding. Derek laughed, as though Hermione was very funny.

"Oh, come on now," He said, teasing like a sibling might, "Maybe I'm just more observant than the next wizard, but Hermione…it's the same way you stared at each other back at Hogwarts."

The song ended and Hermione stepped to the side, confusion still on her face.

She had done such a good job at hiding her feelings, so she wasn't sure what Derek had picked up on. He came to stand by her, arms crossed.

"Maybe I'm out of line. Take it or leave it. But I remember I saw something when you two dropped off that box for me. But I was young and stupid and didn't think about it then. Not until now. Not until I see the way he's been staring the whole night. It's the same look, Hermione."

In a flash, Hermione understood. It must be some form of lust.

Derek had been too innocent at the time to fully feel it, and she was sure Theo had been a regular teenage boy at Hogwarts. And then there were his actions tonight. It all was coming together.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

Derek blinked, "For what?"

"Helping me see," Hermione said with a sly grin. She now was fairly sure she'd identified one aspect of Theo's plan. To get her into bed.

Well, Hermione was not going to deny him that chance.

In fact, she might just…speed along the process herself.

"Where are you going?" Derek asked.

Hermione turned as she began to make her way back through the crowd, waving to Derek, "We'll have to have a proper catch-up soon! Enjoy your night, and send me an owl!" She pointedly ignored her question. She was not about to advertise she was going to attempt to jump someone's bones in front of most of the population of Wizarding London.

Derek looked like he was going to say something more, but finally just gave an awkward half-wave.

"Erm, good luck on your quest!"

Hermione thought about reply she wouldn't need it, not from the way Theo had been staring all night but decided against it. She didn't want to seem too confident.

Theodore Nott, I'm coming for you.