A/N: Hey you guys. Thanks for the follows and favourites. It really gets me so excited to keep posting. I finally found myself a beta. So, cheers and a big, fat, smacking thank-you kiss to AnziaC (Zstar385 on AO3) for fixing my mistakes, and for 'getting' where I'm heading with this story.

I promise regular updates, but there won't be a schedule. It all depends on how busy work/life gets. The story is finished, but still very rough.

As you all know, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Chapter 2:

Two weeks into her stay at Nott Wine Estate, Hermione already felt more relaxed. She didn't startle as easily when she heard noises she didn't recognize. Her appetite had increased significantly, and she was slowly starting to gain back some much-needed weight.

She felt invisible here in the countryside in the best way possible. If no one recognized her here, no word would reach him back in London.

Despite locking her doors and windows at night and refusing to use magic to set up wards, she felt less inclined with every passing day to look over her shoulder at every turn.

She was safe.

Despite their initial awkward exchanges, Hermione and Theo had found an easy rhythm with each other in their day-to-day routines over the last couple of weeks. They kept to themselves; skirted around each other as much as possible and tried their best to avoid any sort of interaction.

Every day, Hermione took a long walk around the vineyard, taking in the sights. She found new routes to take so she could explore all the hidden places of the wine estate, drinking in the beauty. Sometimes when she sat on her porch, watching Theo's large house and seeing a solitary light turn on in an upstairs window just to turn off a short while later, she found herself wondering what he did with his time. What did he do to keep busy when he got home in the evenings? Why didn't he have a wife and children? It was clear that he had been hurt in some capacity. Had he been burned by a lover or did the pureblood witches find life out here in a much smaller than average dwelling, by pureblood standards, unacceptable?

Some days she'd find Theo watching her with that perma-scowl of his when she took her walks. Never once would he say anything to her. The only acknowledgement she would get was a terse tip of the chin or hat and then he'd look away again. But there were times when she could feel his stare burn into her back. Other times Theo would pop up out of nowhere like he was making sure she wasn't getting into trouble, but he still never said anything to her. And neither did she. Instead, they simply exchanged challenging brow lifts and scowls before going on their separate ways.

Today, Hermione was sitting on her porch again, watching Theo take the stallion out for a late afternoon ride, bare-chested once again. The blood-orange sun cast a rusty glow against his skin and his hair looked like fire. He was simply put, gorgeous, despite his stoicism. She didn't have to like the 'story' to appreciate the 'book cover'.

He didn't acknowledge her when he set off on the back of his horse, disappearing, as he often did, into the vineyards beyond.

She'd love to go for a ride on a horse with him sometime, but he'd never offered. She could only imagine the affronted look on his face if she asked for permission. So, instead, she kept to her cottage and simply watched.

It took a whole week for Hermione to scrape together enough courage to ask him about riding one of his horses. She walked over to the stables where she'd seen Theo disappear into not ten minutes before and decided today was the day.

He was busy grooming the black stallion when she entered and, though she was sure he could hear her approach, he didn't look up from his task. His only acknowledgement of her presence was a heavy sigh and a terse, "Granger."

She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her to stop herself from fidgeting.

He closed his eyes, as if praying for patience at her intrusion, and heaved another sigh before finally deigning to look at her, green eyes cutting her to the bone.

Trying to appear unperturbed, she took a step forward, "I hope it's not too forward of me, but may I take one of your horses out for a ride?" She took another step, settling next to him and lifted her hand to stroke the horse.

As soon as she did, the stallion squealed deafeningly and reared up on his hind legs, startling her. She yelped and retreated rapidly, stumbling over the saddle on the ground behind her, but recovered herself before she fell.

"Are you insane?" Theo growled over his shoulder as he guided the stallion into its stall, giving the horse firm but gentle strokes until the animal had calmed down. He snapped the lock shut with a deafening clack and Hermione flinched at the sound, backing up further. "You can't just walk up to a wild horse and try to stroke it. What's the matter with you?" He stalked toward her with long strides, eyes blazing and fists clenched at his sides.

Hermione took another step back, hitting the wall of the stable. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest and adrenaline pumped through her body with such force that her arms and legs tingled and her head spun.

Trapped.

Her head volleyed wildly from side to side to find a way out, adrenaline signalling fight or flight. The instinct became more and more compelling with every passing second as he advanced toward her with narrowed eyes. Once he was a foot away, she flung her arms over her face and cowered away from his fury, waiting on trembling legs for the inevitable blow.

A sudden silence descended over them, and Theo's footsteps stopped. The only sound she could hear was the thrumming of blood in her ears and the rapid breaths she pulled into her lungs as she waited.

But the blow didn't come.

Neither did the shouting or the insults.

After another moment, Hermione pulled her arms down to look up at the man in front of her. His chest was heaving, but his green eyes were wide and horror-filled. She watched warily as he took another step forward and reached out a hand toward her. As it got closer, she flinched and turned away, unsure of what he might do. She squeezed her eyes shut, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as shame and fear burned inside her belly.

She gasped at the unexpected warmth and tenderness when his hand cupped her cheek, a rough thumb wiping away a tear with the softest stroke over her skin. She pulled away from his touch and opened her eyes, watching him watch her with careful concern.

His eyes were soft and gentle, "I won't hurt you, Granger," he whispered, voice cracking in the silence.

He sounded so sincere that she wanted to believe him so badly, but instead, anger and mortification reared to life inside her chest, feeding hungrily off of the steady drip of adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She pulled herself upright and stepped away from him, "Don't," she ground out through a clenched jaw and levelled him with a warning glare.

He frowned at her, confusion written over his face as he tried to get a read on her.

Don't touch me.

Don't pity me.

Don't look at me like you know anything.

"Granger..." He sighed heavily and shook his head, throat bobbing as he swallowed his words when she lifted her brow at him in a challenge.

And then she turned away and headed back to her cottage on legs that felt like lead, hands trembling at her sides.

XXX

While she hastily stuffed her clothes into the two open suitcases on her bed, a knock came from her front door. She ignored it. After another, more insistent knock, she heard the front door open and Theo's voice called, "I'm coming in."

She clenched her jaw, irritated at his intrusion, but kept her head down and continued packing.

"You're leaving?" He asked, his voice sounding strained from where he stood rooted in her bedroom doorway, watching her.

"Yes," was all she said and turned for the en suite bathroom to gather up her toiletries and towels.

Arms stuffed full, she turned back to her room but jumped at the sight of him before her, toiletries clattering loudly to the floor. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She shoved him, a knee-jerk reaction from being startled, and immediately regretted it, taking a hasty step back when she realized her mistake. Would he punish her for it?

He gently grabbed her arm when she lowered onto her knees to pick up the items she'd dropped, avoiding confrontation - always the safest option. "Granger..." He started again, pleading this time, just like he had in the stables. But this time he continued, "Who hurt you?" His voice was tight, eyes searching hers when she looked up at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped defensively and side-stepped around him to enter her bedroom. She'd fetch her towels and toiletries after he leaves.

In her periphery, she could see him heave a sigh, running his hands through his hair before he spoke again, "I'm sorry," he approached her carefully. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. And I certainly shouldn't have stormed up to you back there in the stables," he apologized as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

She blinked up at him, watching.

His eyes were warmer than she'd ever seen them. "The stallion is still very wild and scared. He startles easily. So he requires a gentle approach. His previous owners abused him very badly, and I'm still trying to undo the damage."

Hermione could relate. "I'm sorry I scared you." Another apology.

"You didn't scare me," she snapped, still feeling defensive, and glared at him.

He tilted his head to observe her with an astute gaze, but instead of calling her out on her lie, he changed tracks. "Why are you leaving?"

Hermione scoffed and shook her head, "You're kidding, right?" She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, out of the window toward the green fields she'd come to associate with peace and safety.

"No, I'm not."

"Since the moment I got here, you've been nothing but unwelcoming and unfriendly toward me. And obviously, my presence upsets you. So, I'm getting out of your hair."

Theo rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes.

The clock on the wall counted the seconds with soft ticks in the quiet between them.

Toby, Theo's dog, barked playfully in the distance.

The ducks quacked happily in the pond next to the cottage.

There was a steady drip coming from one of the taps in the kitchen sink.

And then his eyes popped open, green framed by impossibly thick, pitch-black lashes. There was a painful tug at the corners of his eyes, and when he took two steps toward her, whispering, "I'm sorry," she took another step back in response, unable to stop herself.

"Stop apologizing, Nott," She growled, feeling wholly vulnerable. She was so far out of her depth with this mercurial man. How could one person shift from stony to soft, over and over in a matter of seconds? And why did he keep apologizing to her?

He never apologized.

Okay, no. That wasn't true. He always apologized after he-

"Don't go," Theo interrupted her thoughts, "I'm just out of practice."

Hermione snorted indelicately and awarded him a cocked brow. "With what? Humanity?" She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. That might have been a little harsh. "Sorry."

Theo shrugged, unaffected, "It's been a long time since I've had company. Err...female company in particular. It's mostly just been Blaise and Draco."

Interesting...

She filed that comment away for later deconstruction.

"I thought you rented out this cabin often?"

"Not often, no," he shook his head, "But when I do, the tourists usually keep to themselves. Or go sightseeing."

She blushed. She should have gone sightseeing. She'd never been to this part of France before. Instead, she'd kept to the vineyard, only strolling the grounds here. She'd only gone into town once since she'd arrived here on her arse, instead trying to remain hidden from the public eye. Despite what Theo had insinuated about her ego and the French being oblivious to her reputation and role in the defeat of Voldemort, there was a chance, however small, that someone might recognize her and tip off the press. She could not allow that to happen.

"Don't go," He said again. Another plea. "I'll try harder to be friendlier. I promise."

"I didn't come here to make your life harder, Nott. You don't have to change just to accommodate my feelings. It's better if I go. I've stayed in one place for too long anyway."

"No," he whispered, shaking his head vehemently from side to side. He gave a slow step toward her, then paused for a beat with his eyes locked on hers, almost as if he was trying to approach a wounded animal.

And maybe he was.

When she didn't back away immediately, he took another step, paused, and then continued in this manner until he was right in front of her, his delicious scent overwhelming her.

God, she still wanted to snort him like a line of cocaine.

"Stay, Granger," he tipped her chin up with two fingers, searing his fingerprints into her skin with nothing but a featherlight touch. "Whatever you're running from, stay here. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."

She swallowed thickly and broke eye contact to look up at the ceiling in an attempt at blinking away her tears. "It's not your job to protect me, Nott. You barely know me. Barely knew me back in school."

"I know you need a safe place."

She nodded in agreement, shifting her gaze back to his. She heaved a heavy sigh, deflating, "I do."

"So, stay."

XXX

A knock at the door had Hermione tightening the towel around her chest, peeking her head through her open bedroom door. From the window at the front door, she could see Theo shuffle uncomfortably, looking awkwardly down at his feet while he waited.

"It's open!" She called out and pushed her bedroom door closed, leaving just a small crack. "Make yourself comfortable," she said when he entered, looking around like he hasn't been inside the cottage before. "I'll be out in a minute."

When she shut the door, she leaned back against the cool wood and blew out a nervous breath, wondering what he was doing here. It was nearly seven, and she was just planning on starting a light dinner before retiring to the porch with her wine and a new book she's been itching to read.

Hermione grabbed the clothes she'd set out on her bed - her underwear, a pair of yoga pants and a tank top - and hastily dressed. She tied her hair into a messy knot on top of her head, dragged a steadying breath into her lungs and pulled open her door.

Theo lifted his head at the sound of her padding into the small living room and greeted her with a heart-stopping smile.

Her heart stuttered for a moment.

The smile was so unlike anything she'd seen since he'd laughed at her for falling on her arse on her first day here, that she had to blink twice to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She almost missed the hint of dimples beneath his stubble.

"Hi," she felt breathless, voice raspy.

His smile remained, and her stomach fluttered when she noted it made him look ten times more attractive than when donning his perma-scowl.

"Hi," he echoed her greeting and folded himself up from the couch into his six-foot-four stance. There was the most adorable hint of pink staining the skin peeking from his stubble, creeping slowly down toward his neck. "I, uh," he chuckled, all shyness and boyish awkwardness, "Would you be interested in having dinner with me tonight?"

Her smile dropped and her stomach sank. She sucked in a shuddering breath. "Like a date?"

"No." He backpedalled at the sight of her stiffening posture and fearful expression, eyes widening. He shook his head, "Not a date. Just dinner." His lips turned up into a hint of a smile. "Just a platonic edging-toward-friendship dinner."

She relaxed instantly, expelling her tension through a slow breath from her nose. She nodded, a tentative smile working itself onto her mouth. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He looked hopeful.

"Dinner with a friend sounds really good."

Theo's answering grin was a work of art, all soft, gentle brushstrokes against a smooth canvas, and it brightened her own smile in return. He was such a beautiful man when he smiled.

"Will there be wine?" She asked with an edge of playfulness, relaxing even more into the new easiness of their rapport.

"Wine?" He frowned with feigned affront. "On a wine estate?" He shook his head slowly, a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's going to be really hard to come by around here."

"Shame," she deadpanned and cocked a brow, biting her bottom lip to hold back a grin.

His eyes instantly dropped to her mouth for a split second, before flicking back up to her face, now twinkling playfully. "I'm sure I could find a forgotten bottle somewhere in my wine cellar."

"Good," she breathed a laugh and nodded. She grabbed her sandals from under the coffee table and slipped them on, keeping her eyes trained on him. "I wouldn't want to let you down and retract my dinner acceptance, but no wine would have been a dealbreaker."

"Lush," he accused, winking at her while opening the front door. His eyes flicked down to her feet. "Don't you have boots?"

"I do." She frowned. "Why, are sandals inappropriate for dinner with a friend?"

"No," he denied with a brief shake of the head. "But we do have things like snakes and scorpions around here, you know? Many, actually."

Hermione recoiled, mouth popping open in horror. Not once since she's been here had the thought crossed her mind.

Idiot girl.

There was a knowing glint in Theo's eyes, but if he thought her ignorant or daft, he kept it to himself. Instead, he tipped his head toward her bedroom and mouthed, "Boots. Now."

XXX

He was cooking for her.

Theo Nott, pureblood and member of the sacred 28, was cooking dinner for her.

On a stove.

With electricity.

Like a muggle.

Hermione sat quietly at the breakfast bar, watching Theo with rapt attention as he moved effortlessly around the kitchen. He chopped tomatoes, onions, and some of the fresh parsley they'd picked from his herb garden just twenty minutes ago. Then scraped them into the pan, olive oil sizzling in response.

A few stirs with a wooden spoon.

Six twists of his wrist, adding pepper with a grinder.

Three shakes of salt.

More stirring.

It smelled heavenly.

"What?" He huffed a laugh, raising his brow at her when he caught her watching him.

"Nothing," she smiled and shook her head, resting her chin on her palm, arm propped up on the breakfast bar. "You just look so at ease in this kitchen. Relaxed. Confident. Competent." She left out sexy, keeping that thought to herself, instead.

"You think men can't cook?" He asked, playfully narrowing his eyes at her. "How sexist of you, Granger. I'm honestly appalled."

"Oh, hush," she waved away his comment. "It's more to do with the muggle-ness of the situation. And maybe the fact that you're a pureblood. Not because you're a guy. Most successful chefs in the muggle world are men."

"Hmm," he hummed low in his chest. The sound made her shiver. "Good save, Granger." He winked.

Hermione chuckled and pushed away from the breakfast bar. "Need some help?" She asked and rounded the counter to join him at the stove, wine in hand.

He'd uncorked a lovely '96 Cabernet Sauvignon for them tonight, and she had to admit that he had good taste in wine. She'd been surprised to find that he didn't open one of the 'Nott Family Estate' wines. She couldn't decide if he was trying to be modest, or if he thought this particular bottle was a better wine for tonight.

"Nope," he flashed her a lazy smile before turning back to the stove. "All good here." He picked up his glass of red wine and took a hearty drink before setting it down gently.

Hermione turned away before he caught her staring again. Theo was enthralling to watch.

It scared her.

She didn't want to feel mesmerized by his quiet confidence in the kitchen, by his lips and the way his tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of dark ruby liquid, or by the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. She didn't want to stare at his large hands with the light dusting of dark hairs, or his magnificent arse in those Levi's, or his large bare feet.

She didn't want to feel attraction, love, or vulnerability ever again. Because those things were all inextricably tied to fear, pain, humiliation and guilt.

"Mind if I have a look around?" She asked, peeking at him over her shoulder to gauge his reaction.

"Go ahead," he said, expression guarded. "Just avoid the bedroom with the blue door."

She frowned but didn't question him.

Avoid the blue door.

She could do that.

Hermione made her way through the large living room with its thick rugs; cosy, overstuffed couches; and a stone fireplace while looking up at the large rustic chandelier that hung from the rafters.

The walls were adorned with paintings of landscapes and more of those black and white photos she loved so much. There were a few photos of Theo with his friends, but there was no trace of a woman in his life.

Was he gay?

And why did the possibility leave her disappointed?

There were eight doors through the passage as she stepped onto the second-floor landing, but only one was closed.

The blue door.

A blue door with jungle animals pasted to the wood.

A child's bedroom, but no wife or child in sight.

Okay, then. He was probably not gay...

But the alternative seemed much worse to her now.

She swallowed thickly, apprehension coiling low in her belly like a viper. This couldn't be good...

Stepping away from the door, she ignored it as he'd asked of her, but she could still feel the presence of it sticking out like a sore thumb.

What happened to him? And where were his wife and child?

She pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind, into a box marked 'for later review', and focussed on the other rooms instead.

There was a common theme, she thought. Stone and wood. The bathrooms were like something from a fairytale; or like a picture in one of those magazines her father had loved to page through when she was a child. There were trees infused into the walls and rustic stone showers with plants creeping up the walls. As well as sunken bathtubs with large windows looking out over rows and rows of grapes.

The bedrooms were luscious, with thick duvets and faux fur throws highlighted by large windows; plush carpets and ottomans surrounding fireplaces in every room.

"It's the smallest of our wine estates," Theo spoke next to her suddenly, tipping his chin toward one of the windows, indicating the vineyards outside. "And the smallest house by far."

For once, Hermione didn't startle at his sudden appearance. "I sense a but." She looked up at him. His eyes were guarded again.

"But...it's warm and inviting, unlike the others. It's homey."

"It's gorgeous," she sighed reverently, offering him a languid smile.

Theo kept her gaze for three beats of her heart, searching her face, and then dragged his fingers through his hair. "Dinner is ready." He turned on his heel but paused at the door, flashing her his dimpled smile from over his shoulder. "If you're a good girl and eat all your vegetables, I'll show you the library."

"Library?" She all but gasped her excitement at the notion. "But I've been through the whole house, except the blue door, and I've not come across it, yet. Is there another floor somewhere?"

"It's hidden," he smirked. "You won't find it if you don't know where to look." He jerked his head toward the kitchen downstairs and mouthed, "Let's go."

A/N: Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. Next up, we're getting into what happened to Theo. And maybe a sprinkle of spice *wink*