AN: Another chapter for my lovely Dragoon811…and everyone else who is enjoying her birthday gift! (I like this method of celebrating…cutting birthdays to one day seems a bit miserly doesn't it?)
This fic is rated M folks. I'd put it behind an age line, but alas! They don't work on the internet!
Theodore Nott was not a man that indulged in illusions concerning himself. He knew he was tall, weedy, and he would never be asked to pose for a witch's magazine (a fact that he actually took quite a bit of perverse pleasure in).
In fact, Theo was aware that without his well-tailored robes and excellent barber (not to mention a fairly powerful eyesight potion) he might be considered plain by the majority of witches.
He had the oddest feeling that Hermione Granger was not the kind of witch that would be counted among them.
He was quiet and often overlooked. As a teenager, he'd made a great effort to blend into walls, sensing that it was the safest course in a world at war. But in the process he had managed to compile a great deal of information about Hermione Granger somehow; not with any particular reason in mind. Theo was simply a firm believer in the saying that fortune favored the prepared.
Draco had taken the bet he'd proposed (in an effort to tease the girl's mind with the idea of a Slytherin suitor with an eye toward making a move…sometime in the future…possibly even in the next decade….depending).
The result was unexpected (he should have factored in Draco's mother-the woman was pushing him to wed and Draco knew he'd best make a decent choice before someone was presented to him without his input).
Theo found that he was quite excited. He'd often longed for someone to discuss his theories with…he'd been using arithmomancy to narrow his investment portfolio in both the muggle and wizarding worlds, and he'd been stymied. He couldn't discuss it with another Slytherin…the few that understood the wizarding market were pants at the muggle one. Also, they'd likely steal his innovations. He didn't have many friends in other houses, and people in general weren't really his cup of tea.
But Granger…Granger would appreciate his calculations; in fact Granger had the potential to appreciate everything from his love of ancient wizarding history to his secret collection of Muggle musicals.
He ran a comb through his hair. He needed to strike just the right cord. She'd never agree to another date while she was on one with another man…so he wouldn't ask.
He considered the tactics his friends would use. Blaise had the relationship high ground, having stolen a march on them the night before. This worked for him…to a point. The pressure was on, and the Italian wizard had actually done very well in his choice of venue: it was something Granger would enjoy, somewhere he wouldn't generally take a woman he didn't respect, and it gave him the opportunity to graciously buy her something very expensive…which was generally a decent play with most witches.
Theo was quite certain that would be the weak point in the plan, so he'd baited a certain hook himself with his own very rare copy of Mystica ki Hermes in the original Greek. The play on her given name as well as the scarcity of the manuscript itself would get her attention.
Of course, Draco would be there as well. Theo frowned, hoping the ploy he had in place would work without being outrageously expensive. Draco was on the hunt, and only the best would do for a Malfoy. For whatever reason he'd focused on Hermione.
He'd known Draco since they were three.
When he got that look in his eye, he'd get what he wanted.
In some ways, from Theo's perspective, Draco was worse than Blaise. Zabini had never managed to keep a witch more than six months. Theo would have a fair chance of picking her up after his inevitable screw-up, especially if he spent the intervening months laying the ground work. (And he would, no one could layout a multi-year plan and follow it like Theodore Nott). If Draco won her, she'd be wed with some archaic binding ceremony and breeding blond brats before the first year was out. Worse, Draco would spoil her outrageously (Malfoys were famous for it). She wouldn't even want to leave him, and Theo would be left with whatever crumbs of her attention he could garner as Draco's friend, while he quite probably ended a bachelor or wed to someone who wasn't out of diapers yet. He shuddered.
He looked in the mirror. He was taking a chance, yes, but sometimes, when one was faced with overwhelming odds, it was best to opt for the more maneuverable position in a battle.
That didn't keep him from adding a subtle, expensive cologne that mimicked the scent of amortentia (a cologne that didn't mimic the effects of that potion, beyond the scent…Theo was quite willing to cheat, but never in a way that could end his existence, and slipping Hermione Granger a powerful love potion could very well do that).
He wasn't one to forgo an advantage.
TNTNTN
Severus growled as he finished. Hair: lank (but clean). Skin: sallow (nothing to be done about that). Robes: made of charmed wool and dragon skin (silk robes might be stylish, but they could never compare to robes that actually protected the wearer from stray hexes.)
Draco arrived, took one look at him and turned his eyes toward heaven.
Severus took in his charming, polished appearance and snarled, "Not a word boy."
Draco shrugged, but couldn't keep from adding, "I suppose it doesn't matter, since you aren't trying to impress her…"
Severus felt his fist tighten. Once again, like so many times before…they had no idea. They never did. It was one of the things that made him an exceptional spy and a subpar human being. But that didn't mean he would let Draco get away with his snub. "Are we attending this, or shall I stay home with my books and firewhiskey, because I assure you…"
Draco grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the door. "We're attending. I wanted to get there before Blaise."
"The simplest way to do that would have simply been to ask the witch first. Were you in Slytherin or not? I could have sworn I taught you that much of tactics at least."
Draco didn't say a word, perhaps sensing that his godfather's patience was nearing an end.
The room was over-warm, and the punch too sweet.
None of that mattered a whit when she walked in; sapphire blue robes cut to show her figure to best advantage while pretending they were supremely modest.
Draco clutched his arm. "Merlin. Those robes were made for her."
"Merlin indeed. Don't stand there gaping." And lacking anything better to do, Severus walked toward the witch with Draco in tow.
She beamed up at him when he appeared. He could tell that under her fine robes she was feeling ill at ease. She might not have concerned herself. Every male in the room was practically drooling. He moved between them and her so his body would shield her from their impertinent stares.
She reached up and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek, like any friend might do…though it wasn't something they did. Not at all. Not ever. Only years of spying and the full force of his occlumency kept him from blushing like some green boy.
Zabini placed a possessive hand on the small of Hermione's back. Color bloomed in Draco's cheeks. He slid into the space Severus had vacated in his confusion, and placed his own chaste kiss on her smooth cheek.
Her eyes widened and she put her hand over her cheek as slight color bloomed. "D-Draco?"
The boy grinned at her, and it was his true grin; an expression that Severus had seen wane long before his godson's Hogwarts years. He'd seen it no more than a handful of times since Draco was eight.
"It's nice to see you out and about Hermione." Draco's voice caressed her name and Severus nearly growled.
Zabini did growl at his friend. "Hands off Drake, find your own girl."
Draco was still grinned, his eyes never leaving Hermione. "Believe me, I'm trying."
Hermione ran her fingers over the arm of Blaise's robes and his anger seemed to fade as he focused on her once more. He took her hand, kissed it, and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "Let me escort you to your seat."
Hermione's smile was slightly nervous and a little confused, but she allowed Blaise to lead her to the auction floor.
Severus and Draco seated themselves one row behind the couple and a bit to the left. That way Severus could glare at the boy where he would be seen.
Hermione was oblivious to all of that. She was lost in an excited perusal of the catalogue or items being offered. Her eyes were bright and her whispers to her date were exited as she explained something to him…an action that came as second nature to the bright witch since she'd spent her formative years with the dunderhead duo of Potter and Weasley.
Still, he found the corners of his mouth responding to her smile….a fact that he remedied as quickly as he could. He took another sip of the damned, insipid punch, trying to clear his throat.
The bidding began. Severus spent an interminable hour watching books being bought and sold and watching Blaise flirt with his…lab partner…and occasionally hide his laughter at her no-doubt caustic comments about certain historians. Severus himself had been treated to her opinions on Heir Kline der Blabbersworth, a rather dull, bootlicking 18th century historian. She had questioned the man's intelligence, education, and species. Severus had found it entertaining to the point where he had the memory in a pensive so that he could re-watch it in full detail as often as he wished. Severus was staving off a bout of jealousy (at sharing the witch's wit…surely not at sharing the witch herself).
Draco won several bids. He picked up a fourteenth century treatise on Merpeople that was notoriously inaccurate, and a collection of letters from the sixteenth century concerning a feud over a prize bull that had launched a fifty year spat in the pureblood world; the argument had only ended when both families did.
He saw her interest when an ancient Greek text came on to the auction block. He knew from the moment he saw her that she'd bid on it…first, with no subtlety at all. Gryffindors.
What he couldn't know was that her interest set off a frenzy of bids. Seemingly every single man in the room sat down his punch and joined the fray. Blaise could be heard over the bidding, asking Hermione if she'd like it. By then the price had rolled into four digits and was quickly approaching five. Severus had reluctantly given up the idea of it, especially since Draco was meeting each bid with his own.
Severus sighed. It seemed that those of his own house sometimes lacked subtlety as well.
As the field narrowed to Draco and an aging German wizard, Hermione shook her head merrily. "Merlin no Blaise! I bid on it on a whim."
Draco frowned and allowed the older man to take the prize.
Severus did manage a rather beaten up copy of a translation on Mesopotamian herbs, and Zabini seemed to decide bidding on the books was a good idea because he ended the night with nearly ten volumes.
At last, Severus gladly rose to collect his prize as the evening ended. Blaise was at the table, informing Hermione that the books he'd bought were for her.
"Blaise, that's too much! I cannot accept!"
The tall wizard smiled down at her, confident she would. "Merlin only knows why you wouldn't…I'll never read Magical Fungi of the Orient."
Severus snorted. "For one thing, she already has a copy of that. We use it constantly." His binding from the department kept him from saying more. Odd…he was almost never caught by the binding. He wasn't one to volunteer information, no matter what the provocation.
Blaise looked a bit crestfallen. Hermione put her hand on his. "If I'd known you were buying them for me I would have said something…you simply asked my opinion."
Zabini shrugged, clearly chuffed her hand was on his. The whole thing made Severus want to beat his head on a hard surface…('his' being Zabini's of course).
"In matters of taste, if you wish to please, there is but one rule: ask."
Hermione laughed and the whole room stopped to watch. "Who are you quoting?"
"My mother. It was advice to one of her husbands."
"Oh dear. I'm guessing he didn't take it?"
A purring voice from behind the group answered. "He was rather dull."
Severus watched Delilah Zabini approach the group. She kissed her son's cheek and pouted prettily. "Telling tales on me?"
Blaise grinned winningly down at his lovely mother. "Only the amusing ones."
He took the lovely woman's hand and kissed it. He pulled Hermione toward them. "May I introduce my guest for the evening? Hermione Granger, I would like to introduce my mother, Delilah." Severus wondered if the boy used just one name so he wouldn't make a social faux pas and use a last name that was no longer applicable.
Hermione smiled and offered a handshake, which her escort's mother took without any noticeable pause. "Such a pleasure Miss Granger. One does hear so many things about you." She turned back to her only child. "You should have mentioned that you were bringing someone love."
Blaise shrugged. "I thought you were still in the Hamptons with that American wizard."
She waved it off. "Oh that! I was bored to tears. I caught an international portkey home this morning." She smiled up at her son. "Escort me to the punch bowl love. Dear Stanley Hopper is over there and you know how he is. If I don't have an excuse to get away, he'll hold me until spring." Blaise seemed incredibly reluctant to leave Hermione, but he did as he was bid. Meanwhile his mother was casting a number of diagnostic charms for potions and lust charms. Severus hid a snort. Delilah would know every lust charm imaginable. She'd practically invented them.
Severus relaxed too quickly though. Draco had barely began the pleasantries when Theo Nott walked up and took possession of the Greek manuscript.
Draco lifted a brow. "Are you going to make off with that?"
Theo pushed up his glasses. "Don't be daft Draco. I can't believe you drove the price up like that. I thought I'd finally found a proxy you didn't know." He gave Draco a light punch in the arm.
Theodore Nott had never in his life appeared at a social function in his dark spectacles and a comfy-looking jumper. Severus suspected he was born in a set of precisely pressed robes, dark arts text in hand. He was as fastidious about his appearance as he was in every other facet of his life. The boy examined the book critically, nodded absently to Severus, and somehow ended up right beside Hermione while appearing to study the book. It was, from an objective perspective, a masterful performance.
Severus was tempted to simply hex him and get it over with.
Theo looked up and happened to 'notice' Hermione. He gave her the shy smile that he'd been practicing in the mirror since his third birthday; the one that had charmed the knickers off of half the witches in Ravenclaw.
"Hello."
"Hello Theo. I can't believe you managed to snag the Mystica."
He caressed the book with his thin fingers. "Yes, I'm quite proud of it. The only problem is that my Greek translation spell is post-Hellenistic."
Hermione frowned. "Oh, no that won't work very well. That spell translates everything into Latin and then into the user's language from there…"
Theo was nodding. "It's fine for later texts."
"But horrible for anything pre-Alexander the Great. I have a decent one for ancient Greek at home."
"Do you?" Theo sounded genuinely excited. "Really? I was going to see a contact about one on Monday, but it would be so nice to read it before…" The winning, slightly bashful way he said it made the end as inevitable as death and migraines. Severus was going to have to have a talk with Hermione about taking up with Slytherin men…
"Oh I'd be happy to give it to you this weekend. I can owl you tomorrow…"
Theo gave her a small smile. "Or we could meet for coffee and read it together. It's the least I could do since you'll enable me to satiate my curiosity."
A very unhappy Blaise returned to hear the end of that conversation. Try as he might, he could not extract Hermione from the group at that point as they sipped the insipid punch and discussed books. Delilah Zabini was the most effective cock blocker in the history of wizarding kind.
Blaise looked miserable, standing there with Hermione so close and unable to do more than behave like a perfect gentleman.
Severus was so glad he'd decided to send Delilah an anonymous OWL discussing her son's upcoming date. He'd included an old clipping from the paper about Hermione's supposed use of love potions in her forth year.
From the protective stance that she was taking, Blaise would be lucky to get within a hundred yards of Hermione again for the foreseeable future, at least not without his mother tagging along to 'save' him from some fortune-hunting temptress.
He could almost find it inside himself to feel sorry for the boy.
Almost.