Chapter 13
Days passed in much the same routine. Her heading out for work, him either placating the hotel to maintain his cover or reinforcing wards and ensuring they were still properly protected. When she returned, they would awkwardly eat dinner together. She was starting to offer more conversation and shy away less, but it was still far from easy talking.
That night, he'd cooked for her return. He'd made a roast chicken and potatoes, and she had smiled at the warm, homely smell as she walked in. Slipping her heels off, she stepped lightly onto the carpet and padded into the kitchen, calling out a greeting loudly and waiting for his in kind. They'd settled on the system to ensure she always knew where he was when they were in the house, and he was more than happy to oblige. "Something smells good!"
"I thought I would make something nice. I even got a bottle of wine considering its Sunday tomorrow and you aren't working." He brandished the bottle and signalled for her to open it. He pulled the chicken and potatoes from the oven, plating them up and bringing them to the table he had nicely set. They ate in amicable silence, punctuated with a few questions from each of them about their day. When they finished eating, Hermione waved her hands in protest as he tried to clear the table, and told him she'd do it. He watched as she busied herself in the kitchen. It was like a scene of domestic bliss, something from his wildest fantasies, but it was soured by the constant reminder of his lies. The guilt was eating him up, but there was nothing to be done.
"Do you fancy playing a game," she asked, somewhat nervously, after she finished the dishes. She was ringing her hands, eagerly awaiting his answer.
He smiled, trying to put her at ease, "Sure. Wizard's chess?"
Hermione nodded, walking to pull the box from her shelf. She confessed to him that she would not be a strong adversary. Despite her highly analytical mind, she had never been able to master the game. He smiled and told her not to worry as they moved to sit on the floor at her coffee table. He flicked his wand, the fireplace crackling to life, and music starting to play from the small wizard radio she kept, unused, on her shelf. She tried to relax, letting herself focus on the task of unboxing the game. She placed all the peices on the board and settled in.
Soon they were laughing at how bad she really, truely was, "Honestly, I thought you were being modest." She scrunched her nose, prodding him lightly with her foot in jest, as she watched him reset the board. Something small seemed to have changed ever so slightly between them and she found herself laughing easily as he joked with her. She realised she didn't mind his teasing. They played a few more times, Theo beating her almost instantly on one turn, all her peices cracking and exploding in the easily won battle, and then she conceded with a yawn. "Let's get you to bed, Granger."
Hermione nodded, letting him pull her up by her hands before quickly detangling her fingers from his, "Thanks for tonight, that was fun."
"It was," He nodded, following her up the stairs as they headed to bed. She stopped in the corridor, turning to look at him, her face shaded by the darkness.
"I'm sorry if I'm keeping you up at night," she finally said, ringing her hands again as she spoke, "I know they are still pretty bad."
"That's okay," he said, leaning against the corridor wall and watching her. "Are they getting any easier? I know you hoped me being here might help."
"No," she sighed, running a hand over her tired eyes, "But you are in a lot less of them." She finished, offering him a weak smile, which he tried to return.
That night, when she cried out, he took up his position outside her door again. She had left the door open that night and as she quietened, her dream jolting her awake, he whispered to the darkness, "I'm here, Granger."
"I'm here, Theo." She replied, her voice hoarse, following the pattern they'd fallen into over the last few days. She didn't look at him, but she rolled over to face the door. Her eyes were closed, the moon dancing across her troubled face and reflecting her tears.
"Goodnight, love." He tested the word on his tongue, feeling the weight of it. She didn't hear, she was already asleep.
When she woke the next morning, he was gone. She wasn't sure if she'd made it up or not, but his presence had felt comforting either way - a feeling she never thought she would experience.
She left her door open again the next night and the one after. He was always there, looking over her, never moving closer. "Goodnight, love." He'd say, and she would turn towards him, falling back into the soft embrace of her duvet.
Their day's fell into an easy routine, settling them into each others presence. She wouldn't admit it, but she was starting to need him as much as she liked him needing her. One night, weeks after he'd moved in, her scream broke through hid dreams, shattering the darkness. His exhaustion made it hard to move. The weeks of nights spent on the floor felt in every muscle. His body was sore as he pushed the covers back and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. "Theo?" Her voice was soft, searching him out. "Theo?" This one was masked with a slight sob, he could hear the fear crumbling her voice. When he finally stood to open the door, her tear stricken face stood on the other side. Her cheeks were red, her eyes wide and fearful, her heart pounding as she sought him out. "I'm sorry." She turned, embarrassment flushing on her neck and cheeks, and tried to hurry back to her room, but he gripped her wrist and pulled her back into a hug. "You weren't there."
"I'm here now." He whispered back, letting her cry into his chest. He led her to the warm sheets he'd just abandoned and helped to tuck her in. He climbed in next to her, keenly aware of her warmth, but kept his distance. "Goodnight, love." She was already asleep.
By the time she had woken, recalling the events of the night before, he was gone from the bed. Neither of them mentioned it, going about their days as normal. When darkness once again rolled around, she hovered on the landing.
He watched as she dithered, not knowing what to say. Stepping into his room, he turned on the lamp and pulled back the duvet, "Will you stay here tonight?" He asked, saving her the effort of asking.
"If you insist." She smiled weakly, looking at the floor as she slipped between his sheets. She had come to rely on him too much. The night before when she had woken, and he was not there, it was almost worse than the dream itself. She needed him and, when this inevitably ended, she wasn't going to be able to peice herself back together. But she didn't want to think about that. "Thank you." She whispered, her back turned to him.
"Goodnight." He said, it sounded wrong, she didn't like it. He switched the lamps off and let them fall to sleep in the darkness.
Later that night, as the nightmare washed over her, the horrifying moment Bellatrix Lestrange cut into her skin in the large parlour of Malfoy Manor, she screamed. Her hands scratched at the fading scars on her wrist, trying to claw the very memory out of her body.
Theo jumped awake, blinking at the ceiling as he shook off the last remnants of sleep. He didn't touch her, not wanting to scare her further. "I'm here, Hermione." He whispered when her screams woke her.
"I'm here, Theo." She whispered, lacing her fingers with his, letting his solid warmth roll over her weary bones.
"Goodnight, my love." The words slipped out naturally, and he wanted to claw them back in. However, if Hermione noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she kept hold of his hand as her breathing grew heavy. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. He was falling head over heels in love with her. He'd spent his whole life protecting his heart, he'd never let anyone steal any of it, though she'd always been a desire; but, suddenly he was giving it all away freely. This was never going to end well for either of them.
He focused on the soft feel of her fingers in his and wished for sleep.
