Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviews! I'm glad to see you like the concept of the story! Here is Chapter 2! I will be trying to keep up a twice a week posting, but with other commitments it might be more or less depending on the week :') The story should have around 15 chapters I'd think, but it might be more or less depending on how long it takes me to get to where I think we are going haha!

I hope you enjoy!


Chapter 2

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't been out for dinner with someone in years, instead preferring the quieter existence she'd created for herself. She couldn't deny it was sometimes a little lonely but, if that was the price she had to pay, then so be it.

She'd pulled on a black dress, that was maybe a little tighter and shorter than when she'd first bought it, and surveyed herself. It was still casual enough it didn't look over the top, but she felt pretty damn good as she looked herself over. "Wouldn't you agree, Crookshanks?" She asked, looking down at the orange cat who decidedly ignored her in favour of licking his paws.

The change had also been good for Crookshanks, instead of being kept locked away in Grimmauld Place, they both been able to revel in the fresh air and freedom that their new abode had offered. "Well," she smiled to herself anyway, "I think I look mighty fine, if I do say so myself." She nodded, decidedly, and then went to pick out some shoes.

Hermione pulled out some heeled sandals. The pizzeria was probably the most upmarket place they had in the small town - trust Nott to select it - so it called for her one, and only, pair of heels. She placed them on her feet, wincing with the lack of a cushioning charm; the memory of Nott taking her wand from her fingers earlier that day flooding painfully back. Anger surged within her, but she tried to tamper it down. She felt horrendously unprotected, but it wouldn't do to anger Nott before he gave it back.

At six fifty, Hermione grabbed her handbag and set off. It was still raining ever so slightly, the soft drizzle pattering on the umbrella she had raised to the heavens. A dastardly evening for a dastardly dinner, she thought, as she stepped over the Ristorante Giancarlo and into the warm, bustling atmosphere beyond.

She noticed Theodore Nott without even trying. He stuck out like a sore thumb; at least half a head taller than everyone else and twice as well dressed. His back was ramrod straight, as he surveyed the red, checkered tablecloths and silverware. She watched him for a moment, as she waited for the waiter to approach, he was truly quite handsome - it was a shame he was a terrible arsehole. As she thought that, she had to admit that she didn't know him well; now, she knew nothing about him, but even at school he was a mystery.

She certainly knew of him however, and what she knew, she didn't like the sound of. His first impressions hadn't changed her mind either. "Good evening," Hermione smiled at the pretty waitress who approached her, she looked run off her feet. The restaurant was certainly very busy that evening. "I can see my..." she didn't know what to say here, "Acquaintance... is already here." She finished, pointing over the heads of the other patrons and towards Nott, who took that moment to look up. He stood, smiling at her, as she approached. Walking round to the free chair at the, rather cosy, table, he pulled out her seat and waited for her to sit.

"You look beautiful," Hermione was pretty sure he was keeping up the pretence for the waitress, who was still hanging around. Nevertheless, she thanked him, taking hold of the large menu the waitress handed to her, and flipping open the first page.

The waitress asked if they'd like to order some drinks as they selected their food, Theo nodded, "Red wine?" Hermione shrugged - red or white, she probably shouldn't be drinking either of them if she wanted to keep her senses about her. Nott pronounced the name of an Italian bottle of wine with a flawless accent, the words rolling naturally off his tongue. She forced herself not to be impressed. "So... Granger."

Ignoring the pleasantries, Hermione leaned over the table, her hands balling to fists, and hissed, "My wand." The rest of the restaurant melted away, it was only them as she narrowered her eyes and turned her most battle-hardened stare on him. He did not look affected in the slightest.

Theo leaned back lazily, flopping into his chair, the epitome of casualness. He ignored her words, opting instead to open the menu and peruse the restaurants offering, "Hmm, what's good here, Granger?"

He was absolutely maddening, his dismissal akin to a slap in the face. She reeled, her "I don't know," spat through gritted teeth. She slumped back against her own chair, flicking her hair over her shoulder angrily.

Theo just blinked, astonished and unfazed by her anger, "You've never eaten here?" Hermione simply shrugged again, "What have you done with yourself for the last three years, Granger?"

She barked out a shocked laugh and rolled her eyes, swirling the red wine in the glass that had been poured out by the waitress not moments ago. Theo took a sip, sloshing it round his mouth, before swallowing down, "Cooked for myself?" She said sarcastically, taking a large gulp as well - even if it was against her better judgement. "Oh sorry, I forgot that was a foreign concept for you."

"Now, now... put the claws away, Princess." Theo regarded her over the brim of his glass with a small scowl, but it vanished as quickly as it came. The waitress reappeared to take their orders, Hermione opting for a margarita pizza and Theo ordering something fancy, with a name she couldn't pronounce. "Aren't you at all interested in what's been happening in the Wizarding World?" The last two words were mouthed, a precaution taken just in case, but no one was paying them any heed.

"If I were curious, do you think I would have left?" She said, fiddling with the corner of her napkin before draping it gently over her lap, "To be completely honest, Theo, I don't want to be sat here, exchanging pleasantries with you. I don't want to be begging a man who bullied me through school to give me back my wand... And, I certainly don't want to be Hermione Granger, the know-it-all Mudblood."

"Don't call yourself that," The words that fell from his mouth were sharp and swift, lingering in the air between them.

Her humourless laugh rang in her, now empty, glass as she drunk the last drop, "Why not? Does it offend you? It didn't seem to the last time I saw you, if I recall correctly."

She watched him, their eyes clashing over the table. They only pulled away as the Waitress reappeared, two pizzas in tow. She placed them on the table in front of the stony-faced pair. Hermione managed a quick smile and word of gratitude, before she turned back to the echo of her past seated across from her. "I'm not that person anymore. For what its worth, I am sorry, Granger."

"Sorry doesn't quite cut it." She shook her head, "I don't want to be here, talking to you." She knew it was rude, but she'd lost the will to care anymore. "Firstly, I don't believe you are here by coincidence. Theodore Nott, vacationing in Lancashire, don't make me laugh." She held up a hand, stopping his retort in its tracks, "Secondly, if you are here with no ulterior motive, you will leave, and I will be left with months of haunting nightmares. You don't know what it's like, you have no idea."

"Don't I?" The words tumbled from his lips, his hand reaching to clasp the bottle and pour them two more heafty glasses. "Do you think you were the only one who was hurt by the war? The rest of us didn't run away though." He laughed sourly as she fumed, but it was his turn to hold up his hand. Her words of retort died on her lips, "Do you not think I would have reported back already if I were out looking for you?" She considered his point; probably, she concluded, but it still didn't mean she was happy or trusting about him being here. "Can we just try and have a nice dinner? Im looking into buying the Hotel I asked you about yesterday; if that goes through, I'll be around more often and it would be nice to have a friendly face."

Hotelier, she should have guessed. She didn't want him around. She didn't want to be a friendly face. She didn't want to keep bumping into a reminder of her past at every turn. Yet, here he was, and it didn't look like he was leaving anytime soon. "Okay." Conceding, she picked up her knife and fork, cutting a small square out of the center or her pizza and raising it to her lips absentmindedly. She wasn't sure why she started at the centre; the habit started in her childhood and she hadn't grown out of it... it amused Theo to no end. "I don't want to talk about anything from the past though."

"That's fair enough," Theo pulled a slice from his plate, folding it in on itself and shoving it into his mouth. It was good to know that, no matter the aristocracy of an upbringing, boys would be boys when it came to food at least.

"So, not Granger anymore then?" Theo had questioned, noticing her subtle jump everytime the name was used. "What is it now?"

The name she had chosen was common, well used and helped to conceal her uncommon first name, "Edwards."

"It doesn't suit you." Theo shook his head, running his eyes over her in a way that made her squirm. She didn't think she'd truly been looked at in years.

"You'll be surprised to know that your approval was not high on my criteria." Came her dry retort; she was quicker than she imagined after years of solitude.

Theo nudged her leg gently with his own under the table, she recoiled at his touch, but passed it off as moving to cross her legs. She didn't think he was fooled. "Acidic, aren't you?" Theo mused, "Have you any friends here?"

"No," Hermione mused over her social circle. Aside from Margaret, and that's if Margaret would have her, she didn't have anyone. Which was the way she'd wanted it. People had tried when she'd moved, but Hermione had quickly rebuffed their attempts, preferring to stay secluded.

"Isn't it lonely?"

"Loneliness doesn't seem too bad if it keeps the demons at bay." She whispered, the alcohol had gone to her head and she felt her eyes swim slightly. There were some moments when she missed it - her friends, Diagon Alley, reading magical tomes and diving into new experiences. But, she'd given that world so much. A world that hated her, that wore her down, that took everything.

When she'd left, she was a shell. Harry had tried to put her together, Ron had tried - all the King's horses and all the King's men could have tried, but they never would have come close to putting her together again. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was Voldermort, Bellatrix, the Malfoys, Dolohov, Yaxley... all their gruesome, hate filled faces. She could feel their fingers on her skin, the fear of them finding her, hurting her and the people she cared about. The threat was gone, but she was still living it. Every. Single. Day.

Harry drank. Ron fucked everyone in sight. Luna turned into a recluse, never leaving her home. Hermione ran. It was her way of coping. "You can't live your whole life running from the past, Granger."

Shaking her head, she handed her half finished plate to the waitress, her appetite had disappeared quickly. She did take the glass of wine Theo proffered though, "I told you I didn't want to talk about the past... and who are you to judge me."

Nott's fingers shifted on the table; for one, strange, moment, she thought he had maybe wanted to reach for her fingers. She pushed that thought aside quickly, "I'm not judging you. I'm sharing my experience. Running might let the demons rest for a moment, but it'll never make them dissappear."

The cackle she choked out only sounded part human, "You don't know anything about what it was like."

Shrugging, Theo threw down three folded bills, tucking them under the plastic clip on the tip tray. He stood, walking round to pull out her chair and helping her into her black trench coat. The words he spoke caressed her ear, "It's certainly not the same, but we were all children fighting in a war we had no part in. We might be different in some ways, but we are fundamentally the same. You might find that letting someone in could help."

She turned, they were standing so close their noses almost touched. With her six inch heels, she could still look him in the eye, "And you think that should be you?" She stepped closer. To everyone in the restaurant, they must have looked like lovers sharing an embrace, but Hermione snaked her hand under his jacket, "Accio wand." She whispered, and the wood shot into her palm. It was like being reconnected with her soul, the loss of her wand had felt like she'd lost a part of herself. She pulled away, "It was... nice... seeing you, Nott." With that she turned, leaving him standing in the restaurant alone.


Theodore Nott walked slowly back towards the Hotel Belvedere. Towering columns of limestone rose from the ground, culminating in an impressive Victorian mansion. It reminded him slightly of his family home; the sweeping stairs, marble fireplaces and stone walkways reminiscent of the house he'd both loved and despised. He fingered the small plastic key - muggles always came up with clever inventions to get around - and watched as the handle to his room flashed green.

He pushed open the door. It swung open to a white-linined bed, two blue armchairs, a door off to a bathroom and scarcely much else. An owl hooted from the open window, drawing his distracted attention. The brown barn owl nipped at him gently as he extracted the letter, and then more forcefully as he realised Theo had no treat to offer.

He unfurled the letter, reading the scratchy scrawl:

You found her?

Pulling a muggle pen from the bag he'd discarded earlier on the bed, Theo wrote back in the affirmative. After fifteen months, he'd found her. Alive, well, and quick-whitted as always - but scared and alone. Under his yes, he signed his name, rolled the paper and handed it back to the owl, who disappeared without even a backwards glance.

It looked like Theodore Nott was here to stay.