The bedroom was dark except for the small jar of bluebell flames Theo left on the bedside each night. Surprisingly it wasn't for Hermione's benefit, it was for himself. He'd never been able to tolerate absolute darkness but could never define why it made him so uneasy. His recurring nightmares had turned the uneasiness into a phobia but Hermione didn't mind his request and even appreciated it herself.
Their legs were tangled under the covers, though Hermione laid at an angle that placed her closer to the edge of the bed and their upper bodies parted. He thought this may be his favorite sleeping position as this kept her bushy hair out of his face.
"Are you sleeping?"
"No."
"I had a nightmare," she admitted, pulling her legs away so she could roll to her stomach and prop herself up on her elbow to see him.
"I know. You kick in your sleep," he pointed out, staring at the ceiling and giving serious thought to taking a potion. He and Hermione had been very judicious in their potion consumption; it was too easy to become addicted and potion addicted wizards could not become healers.
"I can never tell when you've had one, other than waking up and you're already awake."
"I read a study once," he ruminated, "that babies who cry silently do so because they know that no one is coming to comfort them."
They laid quietly after that, until Hermione reached over and gently smoothed his bangs back from his forehead, running trembling fingers down his cheek. "I'd comfort you."
"What did you dream about?"
She considered the change in subject, rolling again so she mirrored his repose on her back. "Malfoy Manor."
"Bellatrix Lestrange," Theo whispered, turning his head to look at her and letting his gaze rest on the cursed scar on her arm. She'd kept it wrapped until Australia, never letting him see it; the pain of losing her parents had overridden her self consciousness over the wound and now she didn't bother keeping it covered around him. She still kept it covered around everyone else and had even requested he cast a concealment charm for her when the heat of summer made long sleeves untenable.
Hermione didn't explain what she saw in her nightmare, she didn't want to and Theo didn't want to know. He'd seen enough Death Eater cruelty first hand to imagine what had happened and confirmation wouldn't change the consideration and respect he felt for her.
"No one can judge what you did to survive," Theo parroted her own words back to her, and was comforted in turn when she reached over and clasped hands with him. "Dreamless draught?"
"Yes, please."
"The ministry has finished their review of Lord Nott's death and the estate has been passed into my control," Theo announced over breakfast, placing the scroll aside with a satisfied look.
Fred finished chewing his muffin before congratulating him. "That's good, isn't it? Are you and Hermione going to stay at the manor then?"
"No," Hermione denied, buttering her toast precisely so that each bite had the perfect amount of butter. "Theo is planning on demolishing it."
George looked askance. "Has a Sacred Twenty Eight ever destroyed the family homestead? Isn't it protected by old family magic?"
"Indeed," Theo confirmed, "I'll need to remove the wards first. I'm not worried about the house, but the dark objects inside may fight back."
"Dark objects?" Headmistress McGonagall inquired from several seats away, peering at her former student over her half moon glasses. "Destroying dark objects is a difficult task, Lord Nott."
It was the first time anyone had addressed him as his new title and he did not like it.
"Fiendfyre should do nicely," he deduced, placing his tea down and swallowing heavily. They'd taken to having breakfast at Hogwarts now that the kitchens were fully repaired. He and Hermione, and often Fred or George, would spend the day headquartered in the library. Half the day was spent restoring order, and the afternoons were spent on N.E.W.T revision (he and Hermione) or charm research (Fred or George). Sometimes they'd get dragged into the charm discussion, and Theo found he enjoyed the way the twins' minds worked. They were surprisingly analytical and could see connections between magical mechanics that he'd never have thought of himself.
"That's a hard spell to control," Fred pointed out, glancing up at the walls where traces of fiendfyre damage was yet unrepaired.
"It was one of my father's favorites, I'm familiar with it." Familiar with the serpentine fluidity of the fire as it danced on the air like a whip, with the sizzle as it came too close to flesh, with the way it could snatch the air away with hungry leaps of flame.
Theo thought it would be poetic to destroy his father's legacy with the spell the old wizard had preferred.
"When do you want to do it?" Hermione asked. She shifted so that her thigh was pressed against his, she knew from experience it was as much touch as he'd tolerate in a public setting like this.
"We should do it this Saturday," George endorsed, pushing his empty plate away. "I bet I could get Bill and Charlie to come too, just in case something goes wrong. Bill's a dab hand with wards and curses, and Charlie's got plenty of experience dodging fire."
"When were you invited?" Theo wondered, feeling a sense of lightness in his chest at the unexpected support of the people around him.
"Come on, man, Fred and I love destruction!" George enthused, reaching over and patting the Slytherin on the shoulder and either ignoring the flinch or not seeing it, Hermione had never been able to tell how socially aware the twins were. There were plenty of times when they'd seemed to ignore social cues, but was it obliviousness or deliberate?
She caught a glimpse of Fred's face as he looked at George and decided then that they were ignoring it deliberately; she wasn't mad at them for the tactic in this instance. It would do Theo a world of good to have friends beyond just her.
"We could bring marshmallows and Hermione can show us how to make those schmoes again," Fred opined, leaning back and nonchalantly laying his arm across the back of Hermione's chair. His fingers played with the end of her curls, tugging so softly she barely felt it.
"They're called s'mores, Fred, and we're not toasting marshmallows on the ruins of Theodore's home," she denied prissily, turning her head to glare at the wizard next to her. "This isn't a trivial exercise, this could be dangerous."
Fred clenched his jaw at her reprimand, narrowing his eyes at her. "Exactly why George and I are coming. Last time you two wandered off in a dangerous situation, you almost died."
"I am a grown witch, and don't need protection."
Theo interjected, "I would welcome assistance." He smirked at her when she mounted 'traitor' at him. "I want the house gone, I don't care how it happens or who helps."
"I didn't almost die, I did die."
Fred looked up from where he was leaning against the wall, a large breach looking out onto the lake yet unrepaired. Hermione had led him here after breakfast, leaving George and Theo to go on to the library to start today's work. Fred hadn't given much thought to where they were going when she'd held out her hand and asked him to follow her, and had found himself a little shocked to be back in the place where he'd come closest to death during the battle. In the daylight it was alarmingly plain looking, the only sign of the fight for his life was the multi-story hole in the outer wall that now gave a spectacular view of the lake.
"I died, Fred," she continued, reaching over and grabbing his arms so he'd look at her. "I saved your life, and then Theo saved mine."
"What are you talking about?" He asked, twisting his arms until he was gripping her instead. He rubbed his thumbs over the bare skin of her arms, wondering to himself if she was that soft all over before shaking that thought off.
"I had no magic left," she confessed, lifting and crossing her arms so that his hands fell away though they were still only inches apart. "I'd exhausted myself. Between being on the run, surviving the cruciatus, fighting my way through Gringotts, fighting Nott Senior and Death Eaters…I had barely anything left. I saved you and Percy instinctively, I couldn't let you die if I could stop it, but it was the last of me. I'm only here now because of Theo."
Fred shook his head. "I still don't understand."
"Purebloods have the magical stores of family bloodlines to call on when their magic gets too low, they can't die from exhausting their magical cores. Muggleborns don't have that same connection, if we exhaust our magical core we die. Wizards can't live without magic. Theo knew that I'd emptied my core and to save me, he shared his magic with me. He's been sharing his magic with me for months now until my own magic is strong enough to sustain me."
"How does that work?" He asked, his mind spinning as his memory of that night recalibrated in his head. The way she'd looked as she fell to the floor shook him in a way now that it hadn't then, when he'd thought she was just tired. How pale she'd been, her eyes dull and blank as she stared up at him until she'd suddenly snapped back, blinking and exhaling like she'd only just caught her breath.
"My core is rebounding but I can't use much magic now," she explained, brushing her hair back and moving to sit on a stone near the wall, looking out over the view. "It's taking some time but I'm slowly pushing his magic out and replacing it with my own. The more I use my magic, his slips back in to fill the gap so until I'm back at full capacity we're in a bit of a holding pattern."
"That's why you've been staying so close together since the battle," Fred deduced, shuffling over to sit across from her. If he was honest with himself, the explanation relieved him of some of his concerns, he'd often wondered how the two of them had come to be so close and if there was an intimacy there he was oblivious to and even intruding on at times.
"Yes, right now we need at least a few hours of physical contact to keep my core from collapsing, so we've been…umm…sleeping together."
Fred choked, his eyes bugging out a bit as he looked at anything but her. "Like…sleeping together?"
"Not sexually," she clarified with some urgency, though she was unwilling to acknowledge why it was so important that Fred understood it wasn't romantic between her and Theo. "We don't look at each other like that. We're friends, and that's it."
He hummed, leaning back and crossing his legs, before looking at her from the corner of his eyes. "So you died to save my life. Guess that means I owe you a life debt."
"I don't want your gratitude," she denied, reaching over to punch him in the arm. "I just thought you deserved to know. I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine, I'm going to be fine. I don't want you to worry about me. Theo won't let anything happen to me."
"If I choose to worry about you, it's not because of a life debt, Hermione. It's because you're my friend and I care about you too." He reached over and toyed with her fingers idly, sighing heavily as he turned towards the lake. Hermione thought he looked devilishly handsome at that moment. His face tense, lips pursed, chin length red hair sifting across his face as the wind blew. He was entirely too tempting and there was a bit of a buzzing noise in her ears as he played with her fingers. "Sometimes I don't think I was very fair to you back in school."
She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. "How so?" She thought he'd been fairly nice to her in school, given he was an upperclassman who devoted his spare time to pranks, he'd never targeted her deliberately and had stayed out of most of the arguments she'd found herself embroiled in with the house. He'd not been her knight in shining armor by any means, but he'd never made her life worse, and had actually several times made it better by giving her a laugh when she'd desperately needed one.
"Being a twin, George and I tend to always be seen as 'Fred and George'. A unit, as it were. Mum and Dad couldn't even tell us apart for most of our lives. I've started to realize recently that I kind of did that with you. You were always 'Ron, Harry, and Hermione'."
"And now?"
Fred smiled and reached over to tug one of her curls that framed her face, and if his knuckle grazed her cheek, maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn't. "Now you're Hermione, my hero."
"Oh, shut up," she swore at him, batting his hand away with a laugh. "I never did think of you and George that way. To me, you've always seemed very different. I'll admit that I had trouble telling you apart at a glance, but I figured it out once you started to speak."
"Do tell," he commanded, leaning back against the wall in what Hermione felt was a very precarious position. He'd clearly never had any fears of heights, she concluded.
"You approach things differently than George. When you're joking, the two of you share the same borderline demented sense of humor, but when you're having a serious conversation it's very clear who is who. George thinks about feelings and people, but you think about the mechanics and logistics of something first. We have that in common, I usually want to understand before I can empathize." Fred considered her words. "Think about what I just told you. I tell you that I died to save your life, and you asked first 'how'. I can almost guarantee that if I told George, the first question he'd ask is 'why'."
"Okay," he paused meaningfully, meeting her eyes and leaning in. "Why did you save my life?"
Hermione stood and dusted off her clothes, smiling enigmatically before starting towards the library. "The world would be a much darker place without you, Fred."
Somehow the Saturday teardown of Nott Manor had become a bit of a party, and Hermione completely blamed Fred and George for it. When Theo had side-apparated them to the manor, they'd been greeted by not just Fred and George, but also Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Harry, Ginny, and Molly. Molly quickly explained that Arthur, Percy, and Ron would've been there but Arthur and Percy were working at the Ministry that day and Ron was in the shop with Verity handling the weekend shoppers.
Molly had also thrown herself at Hermione as soon as she'd seen her and if Hermione's eyes had been watery at the embrace no one called her on it. Molly was so inherently maternal that a hug from her carried almost the same weight as one from her own mother, and Hermione recognized that this was as close to that hug as she'd ever come again. She held on for seconds longer than she normally would have, and Molly waited until Hermione was pulling back to release her. "Hello, sweet girl," she greeted, cupping her face and eyeing her critically. "You need some food, you look peakish." She turned towards the silent wizard just behind Hermione. "You, too, Mr. Nott. Clearly the food at the Broomsticks isn't what it used to be. Need something that'll stick to your ribs, I've got just the thing!"
Molly whipped out her wand and conjured up a picnic basket and started to set out a veritable buffet. George mouthed a silent I told you so to Hermione and she stuck out her tongue in a childish response. She still held Theo's hand and drew him forward, offering brief introductions to the rest of the Weasleys before they turned to the dark and foreboding manor on the other side of the fencing.
"How do you want to do this?"
"I'm still inclined to fiendfyre," he admitted. He was gripping her hand too tightly but she didn't call him on it, instead letting him take what comfort he would from the connection. "I don't really care, though. I just want it gone."
"Is there anything you want from inside before we start?" Bill asked as he stepped up. He raised his hands, one gripping his wand, and pressed it against the wards that lined up with the fence. They were so strong that the air rippled as he pushed, before rebounding with an audible snap and thrusting Bill backwards. "Hell of a ward, that one. Got a vicious kick."
"No, I don't want anything inside," Theo answered, "The house elves are at Weasley Wizard Wheezes now, and the only things left in that house are my father's. Nothing good can come from them."
"Thanks again for the loan," Fred remarked, stepping over and wrapping his arms around Hermione's shoulders so that she leaned back against him. She was the perfect height for him to rest his head on top of hers. Molly did a second glance at his action but didn't say anything, only shared a loaded look with Fleur that left them both smiling. "George has been reaching out to the Ministry to check into any unemployed house elves looking for work so we think we'll be able to hire soon."
"I think you can change the wards enough to contain the curse and any reactions from the house," Bill redirected back to the task at hand. "Do you know how to access the ward stones?"
Theo released her hand and led Bill into the yard, gesturing to the small fountain that held the lodestone for the house. It was concealed underneath but the water had been drained so it was easy enough to step into the well and access the hidden space.
While the wizards worked, Hermione turned back to her friends and smiled. It felt good to have most of her near and dearest in one place. Fred followed as she ambled over to the conjured chairs and table, sitting down and allowing Molly to push a plate of nibbles towards her.
She found herself munching on the small sandwiches, talking the Quidditch tryouts with Ginny and not noticing that for every sandwich she ate from her plate, George replaced it immediately so that her plate seemingly stayed full. Beside him Fleur did the same with Harry and between them they had everyone eating a healthy portion of food and not even noticing.
"Harry told me about your parents," Ginny confided, leaning close so no one could overhear. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione. Can I do anything?"
"There's nothing to be done, Gin," Hermione denied, shrugging and biting her lip. She felt grief settle over her like an old coat. "They're not dead, I'm not grieving them," she explained, "I'm grieving what could have been. I'd rather have them alive and happy in Australia, than dead here, I have to learn to live with that."
Fred's hand creeped around her waist, pressing her back into his side like he could sense she'd gone sad even if he wasn't paying any attention to her quiet conversation with Ginny. He was too busy arguing with Charlie over the conscientious harvesting of dragon scales for usage in potions. He tickled her lightly, sparking a startled laugh that everyone glanced over at. "Tell this nitwit that scales harvested after the death of the dragon lack the potency needed for protective potions."
"I will do no such thing," Hermione declined, leaning back and pushing his arm away. "He's right, it's not humane to strip dragons of their scales while they're alive. It also leaves them vulnerable to attack from other dragons."
"Thank you, Hermione!" Charlie winked at her in appreciation, pointing in Fred's face as he shifted his attention back. "You can increase the potency using an incantation, stop being lazy."
"Lazy!" Fred was seemingly highly insulted by the allegation, and he and George immediately stood and towered over their stockier brother. "The gall!"
"The audacity!"
"The brass!"
"The chutzpah!"
"Did he just say chutzpah?" Harry asked with a grin, snatching the last cucumber sandwich off Hermione's plate and swallowing it almost whole. "Where'd Fred learn that one?"
"That was George," Hermione corrected, chortling as the twins went on and on, not allowing Charlie to get a word in.
"The disrespect!"
"We are the hardest working Weasleys around," Fred finished, sitting back down and pouting at the group.
"Not the thing to say when I just got back from rewiring blood wards on a noble house while you were stuffing your faces," Bill announced as he strolled up behind them with Theo. "That was bloody difficult."
"Language, Bill."
"Sorry, mum."
The group watched as the fiendfyre consumed the centuries old home, shadowy shapes rising from the flames before sliding back into the structure. There were several tell-tale explosions as dark magic was eaten by the fire, some of the items screamed horrendously in the air as they were destroyed.
Harry seemed a bit shaken by the event, leaning in and asking Hermione, "Those aren't horcruxes, right?"
"No," Theo answered, his eyes glued to the destruction taking place. It didn't make him feel better, he hadn't really expected it to, but it did feel like an end.
After half an hour, most of the house was gone, only the bones of the foundation remained. The fiendfyre faded into the early evening air and only the smolders and small natural fires remained. The group stood there solemnly, until the crinkling of a plastic bag disturbed the silence.
"George Fabian Weasley, those better not be marshmallows!"
Theo smiled and reached over to tug at Hermione's hand, drawing her attention. "It's okay. I asked him to bring them."
