A/N: Chapter Thirty-Eight.

Small note: MCUSA = Magical Congress of the United States of America

I found Draco later that night, as Auror Hernandez graciously volunteered to watch over Jonathan Young. It wasn't difficult to find the tall, fair-haired pureblood, as numerous women, both young and old, fawned over him and attempted to flirt with him all night. I did nothing but laugh, moving closer, and raising eyebrows as we hooked arms and left. His chauffeur, a man called Frank, was kind and gentle, and reminded me of Arthur Weasley.

From there, we met with Auror Hernandez and an unconscious Jonathan Young at the location of my Port Key home, and parted ways.

"It was nice seeing you again," I told him, standing there awkwardly, as Hernandez pretended not to listen. "You should come 'round next time you're home."

Draco nodded, having instructed Frank to drive around the block a couple times, as to give us enough time to have a proper farewell. "I'll do that."

"Thanks, again," I added. "— for your help tonight."

He glanced down, hands in his pockets. "It was my pleasure. Say hello to Nott for me, yeah?"

"I will."

"Strange that he's Potions Master," Draco commented, as though he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that we were finally adults, with adult responsibilities and adult titles.

I nodded, suddenly remembering something that had been overlooked. "— or that Rabastan Lestrange teaches Defense Against Dark Arts."

Draco shrugged, rather indifferent. "He was never a Death Eater."

"But —"

"Double agent," he interjected. "Just like Professor Snape, except Lestrange wasn't an official member of the Order. To my knowledge, he worked exclusively for the Minister. A fly on the wall, so to speak."

I arched an eyebrow, surprised and a little embarrassed, seeing as I was a member of the Order and an accomplished Auror, but had no idea about Rabastan's history.

The pureblood sensed my confusion and furthered the topic. "Lestrange went into hiding after the First Wizarding War, as to protect himself from loyal Death Eaters — such as my father — and although we managed to track him down in time for the Battle of Hogwarts, he disappeared from our dungeons about three nights after he was captured. Some say the Order found him and released him, whereas others believe his brother Rodolphus took pity on him and set him free, to continue their family legacy, should the dark side fall."

I blinked, hard. "That's…quite interesting, actually."

Again, he shrugged.

From there, we exchanged our goodbyes and I watched, silent and still, as his town car drove into the night, reflecting the street lights on its smooth, black surface. I turned to Hernandez next and shook his hand, truly grateful that he helped me and made sure I returned from the mission in one piece.

"It was my honour to work with you tonight," he told me, giving me a firm look of approval, smiling with his eyes. "You're a good Auror, Hermione Granger."

I smiled, genuinely happy to have met him. "You, too. Make sure to send an owl my way, should you find yourself on my side of the Atlantic."

His own smile dropped down to his lips. "Will do. Safe travels."

With that, we made the exchange. I suspended Jonathan Young about two feet from the ground, rendering him unconscious and binding his arms and legs with a quick spell.

I looked to my co-Auror for the night and waved one last goodbye, before brushing my fingers against the Port Key. "Have a good one, Hernandez."

The sights, sounds and overall ambiance blended into the same darkened haze, and before I knew it, I felt that familiar jerk along my navel. It was difficult to tell, as I was soon propelled into the vortex that was teleportation, but amid the chaos, I could have sworn Hernandez said one last thing to me. The name's Miguel.

Two Days Later

I raced through the corridors, sprinting through various groups of students, as they congregated in the communal areas for their morning meals. More than a few had words for me, shouting them as I carried on, breaking into a full on sprint. It was a good thing I had opted for trainers, as I had yet to grow accustomed to walking in heels, let alone running in them. That in mind, I continued into the dungeons, having brushed past some familiar faces (including Neville: Herbology Professor), before screeching to a full stop in front of the Potions classroom.

It was silly to run, but I had good news for my boyfriend, news that I was sure he'd be pleased to hear.

According to Ginny, I should have given him a heads up before making the journey but I couldn't wait the hours it would take for him to respond. Owl Post was a little slow like that. Instead, I Floo'd to Hogsmeade and rented a carriage to Hogwarts with Atticus Grant's business card in my grasp. I would have preferred to tell Nott the good news as soon as I returned from New York, but there were stacks upon stacks of paperwork that needed my immediate attention, regarding Young and his hearing.

"Hermione?" someone voiced, the moment I opened the door.

I breathed in, expecting to find Theo and instead landing eyes on Shen Chang.

He was a pleasant sight, though not the one for which I had hoped. I wheeled a look around the classroom and found it was empty, save for myself and the young Ravenclaw. From there, I approached him, sensing there was something I didn't know about. To my understanding, Theodore had his breakfast in his classroom, as he found it more efficient to eat and do his work at the same time.

Shen rose from his seat, dressed in casual, weekend clothes consisting of fitted jeans and a black t-shirt with the Arctic Monkeys logo in white. It appeared he was working on an assignment to do with the properties and dangers of felix felicis. I noticed several rolls of scrapped parchment laying around his desk, as though he was on his fourth or fifth attempt. Strange behaviour, for someone Nott had described as effortlessly clever. Perhaps something was on his mind.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," I apologized. " — but, erm, do you know where I can find Professor Nott?"

His expression changed, teetering between alarm and remorse — though I couldn't imagine why.

Shen swallowed, rather hard.

I froze, mid-step. "What's the matter?"

"Follow me," he instructed, pausing a couple moments before leading me out of the dungeons and into the corridors.

I followed, hurrying to meet his stride.

Again, students were looking at me, whispering to one another, but this time it did not appear as though those were whispers of gossip. Rather, something else. I tried to ignore the discomfort that settled within my gut, but I couldn't. I followed Shen to the Grand Staircase, met with several portraits that shared the same questionable behaviour as the students.

"Shen —" I interjected, breaking his concentration as he led me to the fourth floor. "What's going on?"

The young man paused, his foot hovering mid-air, before he set it down, turning to face me. His attention was fixed to the floor. "I — I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" I asked, suppressing the sudden urge to shake it out of him. "Knew what, Shen?"

"Just — Just follow me," he opted to say, turning back around and leading me into the corridor that connected the fourth floor to the Hospital Wing.

I followed in silence, fighting the ache that tugged and twisted within the confines of my ribcage. It came over me a grand, sweeping realization. I'm sure, reading this, you found it obvious from the moment I entered the Potions classroom to find him gone, but to me, living through it, the shock was insurmountable. I entered the Hospital Wing, skirting past several beds before making my way to one, on top of which Nott's body lay.

He was unconscious, though not in a way that told me he'd been in an accident. I glanced to his bedside and noticed a bottle of Sleeping Draught.

Shen found me then, bringing a couple chairs for us, waiting for me, as I sunk into the closest one. "It happened early this morning. Professor Nott organized a peer tutoring program, and asked me to help. I accepted and helped tutor some of the younger students, most of whom caught on and finished their work within minutes — but there was one problem student. Slytherin. Corvus Carrow's younger brother, I think. Anyway, he grew frustrated with me and waited until my back was turned, before attempting to set my cloak on fire. Professor Nott noticed in the last minute and tried to stop it but — he couldn't."

I listened in silence, blinking, motionless. "Second stage. He's losing his magic."

Shen pointed his head down. "I'm sorry you had to find out from me. I — I thought Headmistress McGonagall contacted you."

"Don't apologize," I told him. "You're a good boy — a good man. For that, I thank you."

"Quit chatting up my student —" someone voiced, catching both of us off guard, as we glanced to the hospital bed and noticed Nott batting his eyes open, struggling to sit up. " — and you, quit chatting up my fiancée."

Shen swallowed hard, cheeks bright, bright red. "Erm — good to see you're okay, Professor. I'll just — I'll leave you to it." He then glanced to me, nodding farewell. "Hermione. I — I mean, Miss Granger." His chair fell to the floor, as he rose from it, uncharacteristically awkward. "Shit! I mean, shoot! I mean — oh, sod it."

Both myself and Nott watched, holding back the urge to laugh as Shen Chang left the Hospital Wing, mumbling things to himself, things that made me glad I was no longer a teenager.

Nott looked to me then, smiling. "Sorry about that."

"About what?"

"Calling you my fiancée," he said quietly, shooting me a quick look. "It kind of just poured out. Sorry."

I returned his smile. "I don't mind — at all, actually."

From there, he laced our hands together, bringing me to his bedside, where we sat in silence for the most part, facing one another, existing together. There were a mix of different things I wanted to say, to tell him, but none of those things came from me. I could do nothing but look at him, at his now sunken face and tired eyes. The last time I'd seen him, he was healthy as ever.

Things had changed in the space of one month.

I could see it in his physicality, and hear it in Shen Chang's words, as they repeated back to me, reverberating within the walls of my subconscious mind.

Nott curved a hand along my cheek, wiping a stray tear from my lower lash line, as it hung in the balance. "Don't cry, Granger…"

It seemed those words were all it took, for the wave of emotion to surface, finding life as I curved my hand over his.

"How was New York?" he asked, easing us into conversation, making an obvious attempt at distracting me from the situation at hand — something for which I was oddly grateful. "Did you run into trouble at the MCUSA? I've heard Head Auror Jones is a right prick."

I nodded. "He is — but regardless of that, the mission went well."

Nott smiled then. "I'm glad."

In the next few minutes, I explained what happened in America, making no attempt at withholding the bit about Draco, nor mine and Hernandez's ease as partners. For some reason, the only name I didn't mention was that of Atticus Grant. Something tugged at my abdominal muscles each time I tried. I couldn't bring myself to open that discussion.

"The Met Gala?" Nott repeated, impressed. "Sounds like Jonathan Young could use some advice on how to keep a low profile."

I nodded, laughing a little. "Bloke was snorting cocaine in the loo and everything."

His face scrunched into a look of disapproval. "Pills and powders are no fun," he told me, speaking matter-of-factly. "Herb, on the other hand…"

"How long has it been?"

"For me?" he furthered, thinking, a look of surprise tugging at his facial muscles as he landed on a number. " — about five months."

I thought distantly of the time in the dungeons, with him, after hours — my fondest memory as a teenager. Also, one of few normal ones. "I suppose smoking up in the corridors would set a bad example for your students."

Nott laughed, nodding his head. "Another reason for me to come home," he said to me, shifting his gaze in my direction, slowly. " — apart from the main one."

I smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead, as he had done to me numerous times in our ten month relationship — and a few times before.

"I guess it's time to talk about it," he reluctantly put forth.

"It is," I nodded, bringing our hands together, waiting a moment before finding the words to speak. "What's going to happen?"

Nott glanced down, swallowing the tension in his throat. "If I keep taking my daily potions and maintain a calm, healthy lifestyle…I'll have a year, maybe two."

I blinked, unaware that there were tears in my eyes until a couple of them fell from my chin to the blanket.

" — which means I'll have to resign," he furthered, calm despite the words coming from his mouth and the fact that he looked in all directions but mine. "I — I'm glad you're here, Granger. I'm glad we can do this face-to-face."

Something about his latter statement didn't sit well with me. "What do you mean?"

Nott flicked his eyes at me, a hairline of moisture clinging to his lashes. He opened his mouth, either to say something, to break the wall of silence that divided us, but no words came from him. Instead, he leaned towards me and kissed me, for the first time since my arrival. It was a different kiss than any I'd ever had — from him or anyone.

It lingered on my lips for a long time.

His touch. His smooth, caring movements. The taste of his tears mixed with mine.

I breathed in, unaware that I was shaking, until the stroke of his hands on my arms calmed me. He whispered things to me, directly over my lips. I listened, clinging to him as though he would disappear at any given moment.

"Listen to me," he whispered, brushing our lips together, combing through my hair with his fingertips. "Meeting you in that dungeon, ten years ago, changed my life. I heard things about you, about the bossy, know-it-all Hermione Granger, but talking to you that first time, I learned none of those things were true. You weren't bossy or controlling, and although you did know a lot, you didn't know it all. Namely, that I had fallen for you — hard."

I sucked in the breath that escaped his lips, listening as though my life depended on it.

"Nothing has changed since that night," he said. "I loved you then, and I love you now, and I'll keep loving you, long after the world tells me to stop."

"Fuck the world," I blurted, crying. "I — I can't do this without you."

Nott smiled at me then, brushing the tears from my face. "You'll be fine, Granger. You're a smart, resourceful witch, with a good group of friends and parents that love you."

I swallowed. "Don't," I said to him. "Don't talk to me like it's the last time."

"That's the thing…" he then said, glancing down, and then at me, enough ache and burning regret in his eyes, that I could have sworn someone had used the cruciatus curse on him — leaving a shadow of the man I had once known, taking his face and his mannerisms and masking them under a cold, white veil. "I love you, so fucking much, that it physically hurts to be here without you," he whispered, voice shaking. " — but — but I can't hold you back anymore. I can't let you waste your life away, hovering at my bedside, when you should be out, living, laughing, falling in love, traveling, everything that someone as brilliant and as kind and as mind-numbingly beautiful as you, should be doing."

"No…" I choked out, shaking my head, leaning back. "No, no…You're not…You're not doing this…You're not…You're not…"

"I am," he countered. " — I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry. I really am."

From this point, an overwhelming force took over, clearing the ache from me, and replacing it with righteous anger. "You know what?" I asked him. "Fuck you, Theo. Fuck you, and your logic, and your disease, and your inexplicable need to push me away. Do you not think it's occurred to me, several times already, that I could walk away from this situation and never return, that the door is always open for me?" I furthered, breathing hard, eyes wild. "I could have left you the moment I found out you were ill. I could have packed my things and left without saying a word — but I didn't. Do you know why?" I asked. "Because I fucking love you, and you can take that honourable, I'm-setting-you-free bullshit and shove it right up your arse. I cry for you, yes, but please, don't ever mistake those tears as tears of weakness."

From this point, I stared between his eyes, aware that mine were bloodshot from how fast and hard the tears were falling down my face.

"I'm not weak," I said to him, whispering, feeling the anger that flooded my veins simmer to a slow, even pace, as he brought me into his arms. "I'm not weak…"

"I know," he told me, stroking my hair, blinking the emotion from his own eyes. "I know you're not weak. You're strong. You're passionate. You're a little terrifying at times," he smiled. "But even the strongest, most passionate people can be eclipsed by darkness. I don't want that to happen to you. I don't want you to cry for me."

"Wait —" I said, struggling, fumbling, hurriedly wiping the tears from my eyes and cheeks, as I reached into my pocket and handed him something. "This — This will help you. I — I came here to tell you about him, about Atticus Grant. I —"

Nott swallowed hard, reading the print. "Where did you get this?"

"I met him at the Gala. I — I know it's a long shot but —"

"Hermione," he interjected, looking at me, eyes narrow. "Do you know how many Atticus Grant's I've met? Do you know how many people have promised me — and my father, for that matter — a life without disease? Do you?"

I opened my mouth to say something, to object, to explain to him that I had researched Atticus Grant and that he was making progress in his research to do with Arcturus Disease. I had to say something. I couldn't sit there, listen to him, silent and still, without saying something.

Say something, you stupid girl.

Nott crumpled the card, and I watched with fresh tears in my eyes, as though his last life line had been tossed into the fire.

"This is what I feared would happen," he said to me. "That someone would make a fool out of you, the way they did to me when I was a child, trying to save my father. I'll tell you something about men like Atticus Grant. They prey on people like me and people like you," he explained, pointing to me. "It's all empty, broken promises masked in the guise of a cure — a cure that does not exist."

"Theo…" I breathed, reaching for him. "I never meant to upset you. All I wanted to do was help."

Nott breathed in and then out, calming his nerves. "You can't help, that's the point."

I could feel my lips begin to tremble. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Leave," he voiced, as though that single word were enough to unbind my every waking thought from him, that it would free me from dreaming about him, praying for him, hoping, crying, shouting, quaking. "Leave me, Granger. Leave me before I leave you."

"No…no…"

I released several staggered breaths, trying desperately to think of something, to be the strong, smart witch everyone thought me to be, and convince him out of this. It hurt, more than I could ever have imagined, hearing those words come from his mouth — to me. I moved towards him and kissed him, and for a moment, he did kiss me back, as though he couldn't help himself, as though doing that brought him as much life as it brought me.

But he eventually let go, and in that time, another pair of hands found me. I looked back and found Madam Pomfrey, with deep, deep concern in her eyes and a couple security officers that had been stationed at the school since the Battle of Hogwarts — for extra protection.

"I'm afraid you need to leave, Miss Granger."

I narrowed my eyes, drenched in disbelief. "Poppy, what are you talking about?"

"Please," she said to me, helping me up, ridden with remorse. "Harry is here to see you home."

"Harry? Why is he here?" I demanded, stumbling backwards as one of the security officers took me by the arm. "Hey — don't you dare touch me! Someone, please, tell me what's going on?!"

"You're trespassing on Hogwarts property, and if you don't co-operate with us, we will be forced to hand you to the authorities," the other officer said.

I laughed at this, maddened with anger and confusion and hurt. "I am the authority, you bint!"

"Hermione," the school nurse interrupted, speaking calmly, clasping her hand over mine, as I reached for my wand. "Your visitor status has been revoked."

It came over me in large, crashing tidal waves, causing me to lose my balance and fall back, sliding to the floor with my eyes on him. "This was planned?" I asked, as several hands lifted me from the floor. "Ginny told you I was coming, didn't she? I — I knew I shouldn't have told her! I — I —"

"I'm sorry," were the first words to come from his mouth, as he watched me being dragged out of the Hospital Wing, a pained look in his eyes, one that would haunt me forever, though not nearly as much as what he said next.

A/N: ...

Cheers

xo.