A/N: Chapter Eighteen!

Let's pretend you can't use the Summoning Charm on a scrap of parchment, yeah? haha.

Anyway, some people might be upset over what happens in this chapter...sorrynotsorry.

It was possible the letter was in the rubbish somewhere — or that it had been found and sent straight to The Daily Prophet headquarters, after which it would make headlines the following morning. Merlin knew those pesky journalists were simply itching for another scandal. Granted, I should probably have left the stupid thing at home or thrown it into a hot, blazing fire where it would have disintegrated and vanished from the face of the earth — but it wasn't my fault Malfoy addressed both of us by name.

I cursed him under my breath for the next hour, and ignored my best friends Harry and Ginny in their attempts to distract me.

There was no way out.

I'd have to face the music, whether that meant finding the letter printed word for word in the tabloids, or being blackmailed by the likes of Astoria Greengrass. It had been ages since the wedding incident, but I had a feeling she still had it out for me.

It was most probable for a stranger to have found it, seeing as there more of them at the party — but something deep down told me otherwise. That, and the fact that I had terrible luck. It could have been anyone — Astoria, Katherine, Daphne, Rita — even Nott. According to Harry, he had gone home before the festivities properly started. But I couldn't fathom a reason for him to have left, instead of talking to me about it first.

Then again, the fact that I had the letter with me at all was to protect the contents from him — or was it the other way around?

I couldn't be sure.

I had no choice but to ignore those thoughts and go home. In doing so, I stumbled through the front door and into my bedroom, knowing all the while that Nott was somewhere around, perhaps waiting for the right moment to bring it up. I wished he would. It was better that he approached me sooner rather than later. I couldn't take the suspense. I had to sort this out, as fast as possible, so I changed into some comfortable clothes and moved to his bedroom.

For some reason, the door was ajar.

I peered inside, and noticed the room was vacant and that the bed was still made.

Peculiar.

Surely, he can't have been out. It was late and he had work in the morning. If there were anyone more punctual than yours truly, it was Theodore Nott. True, he was a little absentminded in terms of social gatherings but he had never, in the two years we had known each other, done so much as sleep late on a work night.

Something had to be wrong — but I couldn't think straight. I was exhausted, tired from all the highs and lows.

In somewhat of a trance, I proceeded into his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. It smelled fresh, like fabric softener mixed with mountain-scented body wash — a nice scent for a man's bed.

It was relaxing.

I spread across the bed sheets, twisting in them as the tension in my muscles started to fade. Being there reminded me of something, though I couldn't discern the source. In the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn't have been in his bedroom and that the sight of me sprawled over his bed would spark an entirely new sequence of events — but I was too comfortable.

In a matter of seconds, my eyelashes fluttered and I could feel the gradual haze that was slumber overtake me.

I breathed in and out, relaxed to the point that I didn't hear the footsteps — or the sound of the door as it opened. It was when the door closed, that I felt a hitch in my chest and noticed the wizard as he moved to his desk to set down his bag. For some reason, he wasn't dressed as I had last seen him. More than that, he hadn't noticed me. Granted, the lights were dimmed and he wasn't looking for me as I had looked for him — but that did nothing to calm the nerves in my chest.

I then realized, rather quickly, that he was dressed in his Healer clothes and that he had been called into work. It turned out the holidays were the busiest time of year at St. Mungo's — as people were more likely to be drugged with love potion sweets (cough) and other mischief. It made sense that he'd been called in on New Year's Eve.

But the moment I realized this, was the moment he undressed, down to his boxers, and moved to the bed.

"What the — Who — Granger?!"

I froze for about three seconds, before turning to his side of the bed; disoriented, as though I'd been asleep and hadn't watched him strip down to his underwear.

"You're home…" I breathed out, feigning exhaustion as I sat upright.

"I was called into work," he explained, chest pumping from residual shock. "Is — Is something wrong?"

I opened my mouth to respond, sparing one second of thought before blurting the first thing that came to mind. "Just — erm — Just a nightmare."

"Oh," he blanked, a swift rase in his brow. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll just — I'll go back to — erm —" In a rather awkward fashion, I rose from the bed and moved to the door, knowing he was looking at me and that my nightmare excuse didn't fool him for a second. "Actually —" I turned, facing him. "You didn't find anything peculiar at the party, did you?"

He paused. "Define peculiar."

"Erm…you know…" I thought for a moment. "Misplaced artifacts, lost articles of clothing, random love notes…that sort of thing."

"Love notes?" he repeated, perplexed. "Can't say I did…"

An internal wave of relief passed through me. "I — erm — I'm only asking because Ginny dropped something on her way out, and we searched everywhere for it."

Nott eyed me, unconvinced but too tired to further question me. "I'm sure Daphne will have it ready for her in the morning. She's quite thorough."

"Right…" I nodded, a little worried. "In that case, I'll…erm…I'll be on my way."

It was around that time, that the vibe in the room changed. I turned on one heel and curved my hand around the doorknob, before his voice broke through.

"Hermione — wait — "

I froze, attuned with the fact that he reserved my given name for serious matters. It was possible that he lied to me about not finding anything at the party, and that this was the moment that would ruin our friendship and living situation, and send me spiralling into a whirlwind of angst and depression and —

"Your nightmare," he interjected, causing the onslaught to vanish as fast as it came. "How bad was it?"

I stood there, across the door, where my fingers brushed against the cold metal in rhythm with the shiver that traveled the length of my spine. "Terrible," I told him, uncertain as to where this response had come from.

Perhaps it was an amalgamation of the things that happened earlier in the night and the inevitable consequences. Perhaps it was something else, something a little less obvious. Regardless, there was no time for me to think on it.

Behind me, there was movement.

I turned around, and found him near his dresser, where he slipped on a fitted white t-shirt, before moving back to his bed and dividing the sides with one pillow.

"You can sleep here," he said, noticing the look on my face. "For tonight."

"Oh…" I opened my mouth to object, struggling for whatever reason. "I…erm…"

Nott climbed in.

It appeared the door was open for me, should I choose to accept. I stood there, for an embarrassing amount of time, before feeling the weight of the decision dissipate with the nerves in my chest. It was harmless. I'd slept in the same bed as Harry at least a dozen times. Nott shouldn't have been any different.

But something inside me told me he was.

I ignored that feeling.

A/N: So now that his name is crossed out, who do we think took the letter?

...or was there even a letter to begin with... *suspenseful music*

Sorry. I haven't slept in awhile.

Cheers

xo.