Archive of Our Own

Hermione made her way out of the Leaky Cauldron at a rushed clip, heels clicking against the cobblestones of Diagon Alley as she hurried through the mist. She carried a boxed meal and a paper cup full of coffee, charmed to stay warm and keep from spilling as she plowed through the morning crowd and headed toward the floo to get to work.

“‘Mione? That you?” she heard from her left, and she stopped, frazzled. Ron approached with a crooked grin, Lavender’s hand clasped tightly in his. “It is you! I thought so.”

“Of course it’s Hermione,” Lavender said cheerily. “Even with a cloak on you can tell by the hair.”

“Yes, good morning,” Hermione replied in a rush. 

“You poor dear,” Lavender said with a click of her tongue. “This weather really does you no favors. I hope you’ve got a handle on that anti-frizz charm I taught you in school.”

“Yes, I’ll sort it when I get to work,” Hermione gritted through her teeth. She attempted to get away with an, “I’m sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry—”

“Yeah, always working,” Ron said, and though he smiled as he said it, it still grated against her nerves. Their constant disagreement about the way she prioritized her career had been part of the reason they’d broken up. Hermione tried to keep it from showing on her face. “Look, ‘Mione, I’ve been meaning to get in touch—”

“It’s quite all right, Ron,” she said, eyes glancing toward the floo. 

“I wanted you to hear from me, not you know, through the grapevine,” he said, a little awkwardly. “It’s just Lav and I are so well suited—”

Her ears started to ring. Surely he wasn’t about to tell her what she thought he was about to tell her. Surely it was too soon. They’d only broken up half a year ago, there was no way.

And yet there it was: a sparkling ring on Lavender’s hand, which she had just very deliberately placed on Ron’s shoulder. Hermione blinked and took a deep breath as Ron’s words sunk in: “I’ve asked her to marry me.”

Hermione plastered a smile on her face. “That’s great news, congratulations.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Hermione!” Lavender chirped, and she dragged Ron down by his shoulder and planted a big kiss on him, which he indulged. Trying to look anywhere else, Hermione simply stood there and endured it, and when the two of them broke apart Lavender reached to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It means so much to me you’d be so supportive. I know the two of you have such a history.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, hoping she didn’t sound as false as she felt. She glanced between them, still smiling.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Lavender added, and Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. She didn’t want to admit she hadn’t gotten anywhere with anyone. Despite herself she wanted to give the impression she was just as happy as they were. That it wasn’t gutting her to see them moving so quickly toward the life she’d thought would be hers.

“Oh, I have!” she replied, the lie flying from her lips before it had even half formed. Ron responded with a pleased surprise, as though it made him feel better to know she wasn’t still aching, and it only urged her to make it worse for herself. The moral part of her brain seemed to detach and watch the rest of her from afar, taking in the trainwreck in slow motion as she added, “We’re only just beginning, so we’ve kept it quiet, but he’s just lovely.”

“Oh! That’s such lovely news,” Lavender said, and she smiled broadly. “I hope you’ve found someone as successful as you are! Someone who can keep up with you!”

“He works at the Ministry,” she said, and the part of her brain that typically reigned in this sort of nonsense returned to her and she tipped her coffee up a little. “But I really should get going! It’s been nice seeing you!”

Before the two of them could stop her, she darted off, mentally kicking herself for the whole exchange.

***

She sat at Harry and Ginny’s dinner table, swirling a wine glass against the wood by its base. With a heavy sigh, she finished explaining. “I don’t know what came over me. I just blurted it out like some kind of madwoman.”

Ginny laughed softly, and Harry shook his head at her, his eyes sparkling.

“You know, you could get out there,” he offered. “It’s been half a year, and you’re… you know, you, I’m sure someone out there would—”

“He means you’re a catch,” Ginny offered. Hermione looked at her wearily. “What? You are! I know Ron wasn’t exactly Mr. Compliments but that’s not because you don’t deserve them. You’re gorgeous.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione sat back in her chair. She took another sip of her wine, eyes skimming the tabletop and the scraps left behind now that they’d all eaten their fill. 

“We could help you,” Ginny beamed. Harry smirked, a sparkle in his eye that told Hermione to watch herself with that offer. He could be meddlesome, though his intentions were good. 

“I’ll sort it myself,” she sighed. “When I’m ready.”

***

Flourish & Blotts was busy. There was a signing on the first floor by a popular childrens’ author, which meant there were more children in the stacks than there typically were on a Wednesday. Hermione didn’t mind. She loved seeing the shop bustling, and she genuinely loved children. It gave the whole place a homey atmosphere. 

She held a copy of Rita Skeeter’s latest biography, The Life and Times of Viktor Krum, curiously flipping through it to find the events she had personal knowledge of to see how severely she had altered them. As she skimmed the fictitious version of the second Triwizard task, chuckling to herself at the way her own involvement had been diminished to a mere single-line mention, a small voice piped up beside her.

“Merlin’s pants, you’re Hermione Granger.” 

Her gaze shifted from the book to the child and she startled slightly to see the spitting image of a young Draco Malfoy standing before her, smiling brightly. 

“And you must be Scorpius Malfoy,” she replied. If possible, his hazel eyes widened even further. 

“You know who I am?” 

“Of course I do,” she smiled at him. “I went to school with your father. You look just like him.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Except I have mum’s eyes.”

“Do you?” Hermione racked her mind for the name of his mother, knowing she’d seen it in the papers when Malfoy’s marriage was announced all those years ago. Before she could come up with it, Scorpius offered.

“Yep! Malfoy face, Greengrass eyes,” he said, as if he’d said it a thousand times before. “Mum says it’s the only way she remembers I’m hers sometimes. It’s a silly joke.”

Hermione laughed. “She sounds funny.”

“Mum’s great,” he said. “So’s dad though.”

“I’m sure he’s a wonderful father,” she said amiably. Scorpius seemed perfectly well-adjusted, and it had been years since she’d actually seen or thought about Draco Malfoy. 

“He says you’re the smartest witch in the world,” Scorpius gushed, and Hermione was so stunned to hear it she laughed.

“Does he?”

“Oh yes,” Scorpius nodded. “And I agree with him. You’re always in the Prophet, so he has to be right. And mum says so, too.”

“Well I don’t know about all that,” she said, thoroughly charmed. “But thank you.”

“Your book is about Viktor Krum!” he noticed, and again he brightened, bouncing on his feet. “I have a picture of him on my wall. It’s signed, did you know? Dad knows him so he got it signed for me and he—”

“Scorp? You over here?” Draco peered around a shelf and nodded. “There you are.” 

“Dad! Look! It’s Hermione Granger,” he gushed, and Draco gave her a polite nod in greeting.

“Hello, Granger. I hope he hasn’t been giving you any trouble.”

“Oh, no trouble at all,” she said, waving off the notion. “He was just telling me about his signed picture of Viktor Krum.”

“Ah,” Draco smiled, and Hermione couldn’t help but notice how handsome he’d become. The soft way he looked at Scorpius, who looked up at him with clear adoration, only charmed her further. Draco gestured to her and spoke to his son. “You know, Viktor Krum was her boyfriend once upon a time.”

“He was!?” Scorpius gaped, and Hermione laughed brightly.

“He was, yes,” she said. “I was only looking at this book to see if Rita Skeeter got it right.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Draco said with a smirk. She laughed. 

“You know she managed somehow to distill my involvement in the second task to a single sentence?” she said, and she placed the book back on the shelf. “For a book supposedly about Viktor, there’s an awful lot about Harry in there.”

“Sounds about right,” he said with a soft laugh. He turned to his son. “Scorp, why don’t you go find that book you wanted while I catch up with Granger here.”

“I have good marks so far so I get a book about dragons!” Scorpius bragged, and Hermione smiled broadly at him again.

“Good work!” she said, and he scampered off to go find the volume. She turned back to Draco. “How old is he now?”

“Eleven. Got him out of school for the day to be here for the signing,” he said. He lowered his voice and leaned sideways, as if to tell her a secret. “His top marks are in Muggle Studies.”

“Are they?” she laughed. “Good lad.”

“He’s obsessed with cars,” Draco chuckled, and Hermione shook her head, amused. “It’s his mum’s doing, she got curious about the cinema when she was pregnant and spent the whole time she nursed him watching movies. You’d think he was raised with muggles in the house.”

“And you’re all right with that?” she asked carefully. He nodded. 

“A lot has changed in all this time,” he said. Then he smirked as she reacted with clear curiosity and offered, “You can ask as many questions as you like, if you let me take you to dinner.”

“What? Aren’t you married?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I’ve been divorced for years, Granger,” he said. “Sorry, I suppose that’s not as well known, I did manage to keep it out of the papers.”

“He talked about you both as if—”

“We’re close,” he said. “Ours was a contract marriage. We grew up with each other, and we care about each other. So we went through with it, partly to appease our families, and partly because breaking those contracts is near impossible. We had Scorpius, who I wouldn’t give up for the world, and once we’d met all the terms we ended it. She’s happy with Hannah Abbott, and I’m a little married to my job at this point, if I’m being honest.”

“You can take me to dinner,” she said, and he smiled at her, making her think that he was aging like fine wine. 

“How’s Friday?” he asked.

“Friday sounds lovely,” she replied. She conjured a piece of parchment and scribbled down her contact information, which he tucked into his pocket after skimming it briefly. 

“Seven?” he asked, and she grinned at him, nodding again. He looked at her with a cheerful glint in his eye. “I look forward to it.”

“Me too,” she agreed, and Scorpius came around the shelves, clutching a massive tome to his chest. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh softly; she had memories of carrying books bigger than her own torso much in the same way. Scorpius was a child after her own heart.

“I found it!” he announced, and Draco smiled widely, reaching a hand out for the book, which Scorpius handed to him with glee. He flipped it over for the price and chuckled. 

“Spending like a Malfoy,” he joked, and Hermione shook her head, looking between the two of them. There was such an air of ease between them. Cheerful and happy, they exuded love for one another. Her heart fluttered a little at the sight.

“Can we go to Florian Fortescue’s?” Scorpius asked, and before Draco could answer, he added, “The sign in front said two free toppings if you have one of the new gold chocolate frog cards on you and,” he dug around in his pockets for a moment before producing a stack of familiar cards, rifling through them until he produced one. “I have the Harry Potter!”

“Of course you do,” Draco chuckled. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as well, and Draco acquiesced. “All right, we can get ice cream.” He glanced at Hermione as he added a little wearily, “In November.”

“They’re open year-round for a reason,” she laughed, and he just shook his head, eyes twinkling with mirth.

“You’re the best!” Scorpius chirped, and he looked at Hermione. “Bye, Miss Granger!”

“Bye, Scorpius,” she said. She looked at Draco, who was still smiling at his son. “I’ll see you.”

“Can’t wait,” he replied, as he let Scorpius drag him away.

***

On Friday, as she was busy coordinating a meeting between the Minister and three international heads of magical affairs, a paper airplane arrived on her desk, folded precisely to show the DMLE logo on the corner of one wing. She put her quill down and unfolded it, smiling as she took in Draco’s neat, elegant script.

Granger,

I’ve made reservations for us at Le Couteau Enchanté for 7:30. Full disclosure: the owner is a friend of my mother’s, so we’re likely to get special treatment. I assure you I haven’t chosen the restaurant for this reason. It just happens to be one of the best places in London to take a beautiful witch on a date. 

Looking forward to it,

DLM

She sent back a plane of her own, folded similarly to show the logo of the Minister’s office on the wing. 

Malfoy,

I, too, am looking forward to our date tonight. I’ve never had the opportunity to dine in that particular restaurant, but I’ve always wondered about it. I have just the dress. 

See you tonight,

HJG

The dress in question was a deep wine-red with a lace-lined v-neck that showed off a tasteful amount of cleavage. She’d worn it a few times over the years, almost always to girls’ nights, and knew from the comments she received that it was the most flattering thing she had in her closet. It wasn’t often that she wore anything so form-fitting, but coupled with a pair of strappy black heels it made her feel sexy and confident. She put on drop earrings and a delicate silver necklace, parted her hair deeply to one side, and at the last minute, added a silver chain bracelet as well. 

At 7:00 on the dot there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Draco dressed sleekly in black on the other side and greeted him with a smile. Once she had her coat on, she let him take her hand. 

“I thought we could walk, it’s not far from here,” he said, and she nodded.

“Plus you get to see all the lovely decorations,” she added. He looked down at her with amusement and she added, “I love Christmas.”

He chuckled warmly, nudging her slightly to take the turn at the end of the street. The boulevard was spanned by multicoloured lights, every lamppost and tree along the lane wrapped in even more lighting. It filled her heart with joy each time she saw it.

“I know they start in November but honestly, I’d be happy if they started even earlier,” she said. “Christmas is just so uplifting, don’t you think? Everyone coming together to be with each other in the cold?”

“I’m not arguing,” he said. “Scorp’s asked for a broom this year. Wants to practice so that he can try for the house team next year.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t got one yet,” Hermione said.

“He’s been using my old Nimbus,” Draco said. “But as it’s practically twenty years old at this point, I’m sure he feels like he’s flying on a rickety old hand-me-down.”

Hermione laughed. “A very high quality antique, you mean.”

“Thank you,” he agreed. “But try convincing an eleven year old of that.”

“He’s a sweet boy,” she said. “And bold. Walked right up to me in the shop and started talking.”

“That’s all Tori,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing shy or timid about her, she’s the complete opposite of Daph. It’s honestly incredible they were both in Slytherin.”

“I always wondered about Slytherin sorting, actually,” Hermione said. “The songs always listed the traits off for all the houses, but there were certainly people sorted into Slytherin that didn’t seem to meet the criteria.”

“I think that has to do with blood purity and lineage, unfortunately,” he replied. “Salazar Slytherin cared so deeply about it that it wouldn’t surprise me if being from certain pureblood family lines could get you into the house on its own. It would explain why Millie wasn’t a Hufflepuff and why Tori wasn’t a Gryffindor.”

Hermione shook her head. “Stupid.”

“Indeed,” he agreed, and he gestured to the front of the restaurant, across the street on their left. “There we are.”

They were seated at a small, intimate table near one wall of the restaurant, and sure enough, the waitstaff greeted Draco by name. He ordered a bottle of wine while Hermione selected an appetizer for them to share, and as they waited, she came back around to the conversation. “It must mean the traits of the other houses have to be incredibly strong to override the Slytherin selection process in pureblood children, if that’s really how it works.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, Sirius Black was a Gryffindor,” she said, and he nodded appraisingly. “So I wonder if that means he was more Gryffindor than most, if the hat pulled him out of Slytherin despite the family lineage.”

“Maybe so,” he mused, looking thoughtfully at her. “You know, Tori used to tease me that Scorp could be a Gryffindor.”

“You know, I suppose I just assumed he was in Slytherin, is he not?”

“He is,” Draco said. He gestured to the waiter to go ahead and pour the wine for them as he continued, “And he’s definitely got the traits, too, it’s a good sorting. He’s just bold enough that we wondered sometimes when he was small.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh a little, smiling and shaking her head, and Draco raised a curious brow. With a smile, she said, “Harry sometimes says I’d have been in Slytherin if not for my muggle parents.”

“Is that so? I would have thought Ravenclaw,” he said.

Teasingly, she asked, “Am I such a swot?”

He laughed fully, and she found the sound addicting, something she wanted to hear again immediately. She took a sip of her wine and he did the same, glancing and nodding at the waiter who dropped off their appetizer and took their orders. 

Their conversation roamed from topic to topic without any lulls. Hermione tried not to ask too many prying questions into his evolution from blood supremacist teenaged git to well-rounded progressive father, though he answered the questions she did ask without reservation, crediting Astoria as much as his family’s fall from grace during the war as catalysts for the change. He, likewise, took a sincere interest in her career path, which had begun in the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures and led her through the ranks until she found herself in her current position: Undersecretary to the Minister and, by all accounts, next in line for the position, barring some sort of political disaster. Hermione had known he was an Auror thanks to Harry’s position as the head of the department, but she hadn’t known he and his partner had been responsible for the dissolution of the last large cell of Death Eaters that remained following the war, something the papers had merely noted as a DMLE victory. He, likewise, had some knowledge of her circle of friends, but not its dynamics—they shared a good laugh when she corrected his evidently long-held assumption that she had dated Harry prior to Ron. 

“I always assumed it was a love triangle,” he chuckled, and Hermione shook her head.

“You and Rita Skeeter,” she said with a wry laugh, taking a sip of her wine and leaning back in her seat. “You know, I was dating Viktor Krum when all that gossip started.”

“I should have remembered the timing of all those articles,” he conceded. “And how easy she was to bait with bad information.”

When Hermione snorted derisively and tried to hide it behind her glass of wine, he smiled broadly at her, revealing dimples she hadn’t known about. Once again she acknowledged just how attractive he’d become over the years, between aging and shedding the sour attitude she recalled from their youth. 

By the time they finished off a tray of specialty cheeses with glasses of sweet dessert wine, the night had gotten away, the tables around them emptied one by one until they were sitting in a nearly empty restaurant.

“These poor employees,” Hermione said, as Draco paid the bill. “We’ve kept them from going home.”

“I’ve tipped generously to account for it,” he assured her. Helping her back into her coat, he stood very close behind her, looking warmly down at her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled her hair from under the collar. She looked at him over her shoulder with a smile.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said, offering his arm. The night was cold, and as they walked slowly toward her home, still chatting happily, Hermione held close to him for warmth, her arm tight around his. By the time they arrived back at her door their cheeks were rosy. She unlocked the door and turned, putting her back to it.

“I had a really lovely night, Draco,” she said.

“Me, too,” he said. His grey eyes sparkled as he added, “I’d like to do this again.”

“Me, too,” she replied, a broad smile lighting her face. He returned it, and put a hand on her upper arm, dipping in to kiss her on the cheek. Hermione was sure her cheeks reddened further as he pulled back. 

“I’ll be in touch, then,” he said. “Goodnight.”

***

Sunday morning she had breakfast with Harry and Ginny, offering them enough information about her date with Draco Malfoy that Ginny had declared it a wild success while Harry sat rolling his eyes about the entire thing.

“Be supportive, Harry,” Ginny chided him, slapping his shoulder. “She had a good time.”

“You had to go for Malfoy?” he asked teasingly. 

“We’ve all changed over the years,” she replied. “Some more than others.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Ginny said, and Hermione raised a curious brow. “Mum’s throwing an engagement party for Ron and Lavender next weekend. She asked us,” she gestured between herself and Harry, “If you would want to come to that, and honestly neither of us had an answer. Yes? No?”

Hermione sighed heavily. “Do I have to?”

“No,” Harry said, though at the same time, Ginny said, “Yes.”

“I suppose I can make an appearance,” Hermione said with resignation. Ginny clapped happily.

“You know you’re always a Weasley,” she insisted and Hermione smiled tightly. While she appreciated the sentiment, she didn’t relish the idea of a Weasley family event centered around Ron’s new relationship. 

“Think of it this way,” Harry said. “You, Charlie, and George can go hide in the garden while Molly harasses the rest of us about marriage and babies.”

“You know that’s the better deal,” Ginny added with a grin. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Well, now that I’ve committed to emotional torture next weekend, I should get going. I’ve got some things I need to do in Diagon Alley today.”

“New book?” Harry asked knowingly.

“Yes,” she smiled. “The new Dragon Saga book came out this week. Plus, I need to go to Gringott’s.”

***

She finished her errands at the bank and rushed out into the cold, stopping to tug her scarf up to her ears against the wind. As she pivoted to head to Flourish & Blott’s, someone came barrelling around the corner, slamming headlong into her. In one moment, she felt the strong planes and scratchy wool coat of a sturdy male chest, and in the next, she was on her arse on cold stone. 

“Oh, fuck. Let me help you,” came a friendly tenor from above, and she looked up to find dark eyes and an offered hand. Warm fingers wrapped around hers and pulled her up, and she placed a hand against his chest to steady herself. “You’re okay?”

“Fine, I’m fine,” she said.

“Aaand you’re Hermione Granger,” he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, that’s me,” she gave him a weak smile. “Sorry, I don’t—”

“Theo,” he grinned at her. “Theo Nott. We were actually—”

“Oh, right, yes, we were in the same bloody year,” she laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I guess our paths haven’t crossed—”

“Well now they have,” he joked. “Again, I’m sorry about that. I should really watch where I’m going.”

“Right, well, I wasn’t exactly looking either,” she dismissed it. “No harm done.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said. He gave her a charming smile, and only then did she realize she still had her hand on his chest, his fingers still wrapped around her other hand. She stepped backward, biting her lip, and he let her go. But he continued, “Go out with me tonight?”

“I—” she started, thinking of her date with Draco just that past Friday. She’d really enjoyed herself, and looked forward to seeing him again. It was too soon to say she was definitely seeing someone, even if it had been a great first date. Exclusivity wasn’t something she would promise anyone after a single date. There was no harm in having another date this weekend. Having two handsome men to choose between wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. And Theo was smiling very attractively at her. 

It seemed that when it rained, it poured.

She gave him a nod. “Okay.”

“Brilliant,” he smiled even broader, and Hermione liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Why don’t you meet me here at 8? Wear something you can dance in.”

***

“Granger, you look stunning,” he crooned, approaching her in the light of the street lamps. She turned with a smile.

“I’m in a coat,” she laughed, and he winked as he offered his arm. 

“And you look amazing in it,” he said. “Ready for a side-along?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, tightening her grip on his elbow. She felt the familiar twist and pull of apparition and then they were standing in front of a large, brightly lit establishment. “Where are we?”

“Proxim Alley,” he replied. Her lips parted as she took in a breath in recognition, and he continued, “It’s just cold enough I thought we’d skip over instead of trotting through the district to get here.”

“I like the cold,” she said softly, her mind flitting back to her walk with Draco. She shook it off, determined to focus on Theo for the night. “So, we’re dancing?”

“We’re dancing,” he nodded with a grin. He tugged her along into the club and she took in the name of the place: Zabi Zabi, written in ornate, gilded letters on the door. 

“I’ve never been here,” she admitted, and he beamed down at her.

“You’ll love it,” he insisted. They stopped by the coat room to leave their outerwear and made their way inside, where immediately upon crossing the threshold, a wall of sound hit them. It was dark inside, with blue-green orbs of light floating above, and the music was deafening. All Hermione could make out was heavy thumping. Theo smiled broadly at her, and took her hand, dragging her out to the dance floor. 

She tried to enjoy herself, but it wasn’t her idea of a good date. It was too loud in the club to speak to one another, and even when he gestured toward the bar and got her a drink, she could barely think for all the noise. And it seemed he was friends with the employees, because he was dragged into a conversation that had him leaning over the bar and shouting into the ear of the bartender for so long that she began to feel forgotten. After roughly fifteen minutes of watching him attempt a conversation over the din, she gave up and went out to the lobby, ears ringing.

Shaking her head, she collected her jacket. As she was shrugging it on, Theo appeared. “You’re leaving?”

“It just isn’t what I thought it’d be,” she said, giving him a tight, apologetic smile. “Thank you for inviting me, Theo.”

Walking out the door, she started down Proxim Alley, vaguely familiar with the street. After a moment, Theo scrambled to follow her, shoving his arms into the sleeves of his own coat as he trotted to catch up. “Granger, wait.”

“It’s okay, Theo, it just isn’t my style—”

“Well let’s do something else then,” he said, a little petulantly. “I’d like to spend the evening with you.”

“Would you?” she asked, and she stopped in her tracks. “You just spent a quarter of an hour having a conversation with the bartender.”

“He asked about you!” Theo protested. 

“I don’t know how you heard him,” she crossed her arms. “Besides—”

“Hermione?” a voice came from her left, distant but excitable. She turned and saw Lavender dragging Ron by the hand, clipping toward them at a brisk pace in sparkly, strappy heels and a tiny, sequined dress, her shoulders framed with a fuzzy pink bolero. 

“Oh, bloody fucking—” Hermione muttered darkly under her breath. Theo raised a brow at her, and she shot him a weary look. She stepped toward him quickly and as quietly as she could manage, she pleaded with him. “Please can you do me a favor and just… not let on that we’re on a terrible first date?”

“A favor, eh?” he smirked, and Hermione looked up at him and bit her lip. “Yeah, all right, all right.”

And he dipped down to give her a chaste little peck to the tip of her nose and winked at her before taking her hand, straightening up, and plastering on a smile. “Lavender Brown! As I live and breathe.”

“Theo?” she chirped, an astonished excitement blooming across her painted face. “Wow! Hermione, you minx!”

“Hey, ‘Mione,” Ron greeted her, eyes darting over Theo.

“Hi Ron,” she said. “You remember Theo?”

“Yeah, sorta,” he said, and he leaned forward, offering a hand to shake. 

“Are you guys going to Zabi Zabi?” Lavender asked, and Hermione shook her head.

“Just leaving,” Theo said smoothly. “Hermione’s hungry.”

“Oh! Well, it was nice to see you,” Lavender chirped. She tugged on Ron’s hand to get his attention, as he had drifted off, his eyes glazed and still aimed at Hermione’s hand, her fingers entwined with Theo’s. “Wasn’t it, Ron?” 

“Wha? Yeah,” he snapped out of it. “Always nice to see you, ‘Mione.”

Hermione smiled. “Well, we should get going. Have fun at the club.”

“Of course we will!” Lavender beamed. She dragged Ron along with a little wave, and once they were gone, Theo turned to Hermione.

“You, my lovely little date, are going to come with me for dessert and an explanation,” he said with a smile, and Hermione sighed, returning it. 

“I suppose that’s fair.”

***

He took her to Florian Fortescue’s and they shared a sundae. Hermione opted for full honesty, explaining in as humorously self-deprecating a way as she could manage how she had blurted out the lie that she was seeing someone the last time she’d run into Ron and Lavender. 

She made him laugh, and in so doing discovered that Theo Nott had an infectious giggle, delightful and goofy, that was at almost comical odds with his otherwise sleek appearance. It was endearing, and almost too easy to drag from him. He was vibrant, using his hands to elaborate as he spoke, offering tales of his own dating mishaps in exchange for hers, and rendering her story--which she’d considered mortifying up to this point--entirely toothless. 

Now that they could actually speak to each other at a normal volume, Hermione found herself having a good time. He was funny, insightful, and happened to be reading the same series she was, excited to know she, too, had been waiting anxiously for the latest installment. 

Finished with their ice cream, they stepped out into Diagon Alley, and Hermione laughed, stepping closer to him. “Why did we have ice cream in November?”

“Florian Fortescue’s is open year-round,” he quipped, and Hermione’s mind gave her a flash of grey eyes and a dimpled smile, Draco and Scorpius floating to the forefront of her mind. She’d said the same thing to him earlier that week. 

“Indeed it is.” Theo threw an arm around her shoulder, bringing her back to the moment. What had started badly had wound up being yet another good night.

“Can we do this again?” Theo asked, and Hermione smiled at him from under his arm. He squeezed around her shoulders, dark eyes bright with hope. 

“Yeah, we can,” she poked him playfully in the ribs. “But not at Zabi Zabi.”

***

DMLE, Monday 8:30am

Draco sat in his chair, waved his wand at the stack of papers left in his inbox over the weekend to sort them by priority, and summoned the one on top. As he skimmed it, his partner strolled in, hands in his pockets and a cheerful whistle on his lips.

“You’re in a good mood.” Theo turned toward him with a smile, tossing his coat toward the rack. Draco rolled his eyes and waved his wand, keeping it from falling to the floor. “Lazy.”

“It made it to the hook, didn’t it?”

“Because I made sure it did,” Draco said. “Explain the whistling.”

“Went on a date last night,” he grinned. “Started off a bit rough, but wound up being probably the best one I’ve been on in ages.”

“Yeah? I had a good date Friday,” Draco replied. Theo raised a brow.

“You what? You went on a date?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Uh, yes?” Theo replied. “When’s the last time you even—”

“I go on dates,” Draco protested. He spun his chair from side to side.

“You do not.”

“Well I had one on Friday,” he grinned. “And it was good. Great, actually.”

“Good on you, mate,” Theo said. He picked up a miniature quaffle from his desk, tossing it up and down. “Who with? Do I know her--or him?”

He raised a brow at Draco, who smiled crookedly. “Hermione Granger.”

“What?” Theo sat up straight, turning in his seat. “Really?”

“Yes, really, why would I—”

“Hermione Granger is who I went out with last night,” Theo replied. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Huh,” Draco replied, leaning back in his chair. Theo did the same, and for a moment, they stared at each other. 

“So what now?” Theo asked.

“Well, I’m doing it again,” Draco said simply. “We had a good time.”

“Yeah, so did we,” Theo replied. He frowned, and so did Draco. Theo continued carefully, “I mean I guess it was only a first date, neither one of us really has claim to her at this point--”

A paper airplane bearing the seal of the Minister’s office flew into Draco’s inbox. He picked it up curiously, noting in his periphery that Theo had received a similar plane.

Draco,

I wanted to thank you for the lovely evening on Friday. I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. Something has come up that I wanted to tell you, if only for the sake of transparency, because I know the two of you are friends and I would hate to cause trouble between you. I also went on a date this weekend with Theo Nott, and likewise had a lovely time. 

I would personally like to get to know both of you better and would very much like to see you again, but it would make sense if you (or him, or both of you) weren’t amenable to seeing me simultaneously. Please let me know either way. I promise I will understand, whatever you decide.

Thinking of you,

Hermione

“Is yours from Hermione?” Theo asked, looking up from his note. Draco met his eyes and nodded. 

“She doesn’t want to cause trouble between us,” he said with a sigh. “It’s thoughtful of her.”

“Would it?” Theo asked, and when Draco looked up, he elaborated. “Shit, Draco, we’ve been through fucking everything at this point, surely we can survive it if she picks one of us over the other.”

“I’m not going to just step aside,” Draco replied carefully. 

“I’m not either,” Theo said. “I’m not asking you to.”

He took a breath. “I haven’t… you know I’ve barely gone out like this.”

“I know,” Theo said. “But I’m not going to just ignore the chemistry I felt with her last night, Draco, it’s not like—”

“The thousands of other witches you’ve seen over the years?”

“Oh, come on,” Theo sighed. “Just because I’m more adventurous than you—”

“Well if you’re just going to shag her and move on like you do with everyone else,” Draco started, and Theo heaved a sigh at him.

“It’s not like that this time, it feels different,” he said. Draco looked skeptical as he toyed with the edge of the parchment.

“What are you saying, Theo?”

“I’m saying let her choose.”

He considered it. Drumming his fingers against the tabletop, he re-read her note, and looked back at Theo, who was likewise studying his. “Okay. We let her choose.”

Theo’s dark eyes snapped up from the paper and met his. He smiled. “Okay.”

***

“Gin?”

“Hm?” Ginny looked up from her seat at Harry’s knees, letting her head loll a bit as he rubbed knots out of her shoulders.

“How many dates with two men counts as stringing them along?”

“What?” Ginny snapped out of a jelly-boned state into full attention. Harry, likewise, stopped rubbing at her shoulders, looking at Hermione with a crinkle between his dark brows.

“Wait, are you still—”

“Yes, I’m still,” Hermione sighed. It had been a month, and she’d been on roughly a date per week with both Draco and Theo. The more she learned, the more she liked both of them; each seemed to call to a different part of her. Things were moving a little more quickly with Theo. Draco was reserved where Theo was playful, and she appreciated both for what they were. 

Until last night, she’d only been getting physical with one of them. Theo had kissed her on their second date, a playful little kiss that led to a heated snog session at her door before they parted for the night. He’d since had his hands inside her shirt, and on their most recent date he’d slipped his fingers up her skirt, taking the first steps toward sexual intimacy. 

Last night Draco had kissed her for the first time, a sweet, slow parry of lips and tongue that she couldn’t stop replaying in her head.

“I don’t know if you can keep doing that much longer,” Ginny frowned. “You really can’t decide?”

“I can’t,” Hermione sighed, dropping her head. “I thought for sure one of them would be more… something than the other, but they’re both…”

“Tall and gorgeous?” Ginny offered. Harry swatted her on the shoulder and she leaned her head back to look up at him. “You’re tall and gorgeous, you know.”

His ears went red, but he seemed appeased. He resumed her shoulder rub and she let out a soft hum of appreciation before fixing her gaze on Hermione. 

“I assume you’ve already made a pros and cons list?”

“Running in my head since day one,” Hermione said.

“And?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “They’re not similar at all, but I like both of them more every time I spend time with them. It’s like…” she trailed off, and with a frustrated grunt, she brought her hands to her face. ”Ugh, if I could just smoosh them together into one person!”

Harry made a thoughtful sound in his throat.

“Let’s have it, Harry,” Ginny said, without looking up.

“What if you didn’t have to choose?” he asked, and Hermione looked at him with confusion. “You remember Michael Corner, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, furrowing her brow. “I haven’t kept up—”

“OH!” Ginny yelped. “Oh, Harry, you’re a genius.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“He’s in a triad,” Ginny said. “Michael’s with… hm, who’s he with again? Lisa Turpin and someone.”

“Lisa and Graham Montague,” he replied. “He works in Games and Sports.”

“Right!” She looked back at Hermione. “Think they’d go for that?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione frowned. “I haven’t talked to either of them about the other, except from right at the beginning when I made sure they were both all right with me dating them at the same time.”

“You could always ask,” Ginny said.

“Isn’t that presumptuous?” Hermione worried. “If they’re not amenable isn’t that…”

“Worst they can say is no, Hermione,” Harry shrugged. “And then you’re still in the position of choosing, same place you’re in now.”

***

DMLE, A Thursday Night, 11:30pm

“The fuck?” Theo tossed another document into the center of the conference room table and ran his hand through his hair. “How’d they let him get away, anyway? After all that work we fucking did—”

“Bloody incompetent,” Draco scowled. He put his hands on the edge of the table and scanned the documents before him. 

“We can’t exactly convict the man if he isn’t here to convict.”

“I’m aware.” 

Theo stared at him for a moment and dropped into a chair. “What’s going on with you, anyway?”

Draco looked up from the tabletop and met his eyes. “This is frustrating.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that,” Theo said. “But this ,” he gestured at Draco, “Has been going on for a week, and Avery only escaped yesterday.”

Draco dropped into a chair and swiveled. He frowned to himself, and Theo prodded.

“Come on, mate, you think I can’t recognize when you’re in a snit?”

“I don’t like that she might pick you, okay?” he barked, and Theo took a deep breath, eyebrows rising on his face. 

“Ooookay,” he drawled. “We agreed—”

“I know what we agreed,” Draco snipped. “It’s just… it’s…”

“You’re falling for her.” Draco nodded, still swiveling in his chair.

“It’s just…” Draco started, and then stopped again. He dropped his chin to his chest and kicked at the floor, starting a new spin in his chair. “I really fucking like her, Theo.”

“Yeah, me too,” Theo sighed. For a while, they sat there, Draco turning slowly in his chair, Theo leaning against the tabletop. “Like… I haven’t felt like this since you, mate.”

Draco stopped, eyes snapping up to Theo, who gave him a tight smile. 

“Yeah.”

“Theo—”

“You never came back to me, you know?” Theo said sorrowfully, and it was his turn to drop his gaze. “You did what you had to with Astoria, I get it, but when you guys divorced she went right back to Hannah like the next fucking day and you just—”

“You were shagging every witch from here to France, I thought you’d moved on.”

Theo scoffed. 

Draco persisted. “Seriously, Theo, you had a new witch every time I saw you. You were still doing it until Hermione came along—”

“Witches, Draco,” he said. “Ever wonder why not wizards?”

“Well yeah, but—”

“Because they weren’t you,” he replied, and Draco heaved a sigh.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

“Because what if you didn’t want me?” Theo snapped. “It was one thing when I could blame it on a bloody marriage contract that your parents bound you to before you were even fucking born but if you’d been done with me I think I would have died.”

Theo flicked his wand toward the door, slamming it shut. It shimmered, sealing with the DMLE’s default wards and silencing spells. “If I never brought it up then I never had to hear you say you didn’t want it,” he said thickly. “Are you gonna say anything?”

“I wish you’d said something,” was all Draco could say.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t.”

“And now we’re here.”

“Yeah. Now we’re here.”

Draco resumed his swiveling, a contemplative silence falling between them. Theo put his elbows on the table and his face into his hands. After an interminable quiet, Draco stopped moving and stood, dragging a hand down his face. 

“I’m going home.”

“What? But the Avery case—”

“I’m tired. I’m not thinking about the fucking case anyway. I’m going to bed,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

***

Hermione pulled the door open, grinning from ear to ear at Draco and Scorpius standing on the other side.

“Hi, Scorpius!” she ushered them both in, giving Draco a quick kiss. 

“Dad said you’re going to take me to see the muggle museums!” Scorpius said excitedly.

“I am, he’s right,” Hermione grinned. 

“Thanks again for this,” Draco said. “I’m really sorry to impose, it’s just the bloody Avery case blew open this week, none of my friends are available because it’s last minute on a Saturday, and since Tori’s gone to Spain with Hannah I can’t swap with her. I’d take him with me but the case files aren’t something I want him seeing--”

“I promise, it’s not an imposition,” Hermione grinned. She took the lapel of his coat in her fingers and pulled him down for a better kiss. “I love kids. We’ll have a great time.”

“What’s your cat’s name, Miss Granger?” Scorpius asked from the couch. She turned to find Crookshanks purring and rubbing his aged face against the boy’s coat.

“It’s Crookshanks,” she said. “Be gentle, he’s very old. And you can call me Hermione.”

“I asked dad for an owl for Christmas,” he said as he scratched Crookshanks behind the ears. 

“Did you?” She glanced back at Draco, who had a fond smile on his face, watching his son with the cat. Lowering her voice, she leaned in, “He’s half-kneazle. Knows who’s trustworthy from a mile away.”

“Scorp’s a good kid,” Draco said, tearing his eyes away from his son to look warmly at Hermione. “Thanks again.”

“Happy to help,” she said. “Go on then. Get to work. I’ll see you after.”

***

“Unfair,” Theo complained with unmistakable mirth, watching Hermione pour wine into her long-stemmed glasses. “I haven’t got a kid to soften you up with.”

“He needed someone to watch Scorpius, I was available,” she shrugged. “He was with you, might I add.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I’m just teasing.”

“You’re always teasing,” Hermione said sitting beside him on the couch. She placed the glasses on the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and leaned into his side. “Are you ready, Theo Nott?”

“What are you subjecting me to?”

She pushed play and turned to give him a kiss. “Bond. James Bond.”

“And what made this your choice for my very first muggle film?”

“An action adventure spy thriller seemed like a good bet to make you want to come back for more,” she shrugged. He trailed his fingers along her jaw, urging her up for another kiss, before he settled against the couch, arm stretched along the back of it behind her. As the movie played on, Theo offered sporadic commentary, most wildly entertained by the entire notion of Xenia Onatopp, the lusty murderer who suffocated men with her thighs.

Hermione let him trail his fingers up her thighs as the movie came to an end. When the credits rolled, he pulled her into his lap and slid his hands around her hips. She came in for a kiss, and he tugged at the buttons on her shirt one by one, slowly baring her lace-clad chest to him. When he had the entire shirt open, she shrugged it off and slid her arms around his neck, humming appreciatively as he thumbed her nipples through her bra.

“Always teasing,” she said, voice low, and he rumbled in agreement before kissing her more deeply and maneuvering her down onto her back on the couch. Trailing his mouth along her chest and down her stomach, he tugged open her jeans, and Hermione lifted her hips to help him remove them. 

His mouth blazed a heated path up her legs as he took his time kissing his way back. Pushing her legs gently apart, his mouth drew a map to the apex of her thighs. One of his hands slid up her stomach to her breast, and the other he used to tug her knickers down.

Hermione slipped her fingers into his dark hair, the waves slipping between her knuckles as she ran them through. He glanced up at her and she gave a nod. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said with a playful glint in his eye, and he dragged his tongue along her slit. She whimpered in response and he took it as encouragement, devouring her relentlessly. 

Past lovers, though she hadn’t had very many of them, had never been so bold with her about this. They’d been tentative, careful, almost as if she was made of glass. But Theo did not hold back, sucking at her clit and laving her with attention, bringing a hand up to add dextrous fingers to the whole affair. Before long he had her clinging to the cushion with one hand and fisting a handful of her own hair with the other, biting her bottom lip around a whine as she peaked. Theo laughed against her as her thighs came up with her climax, making her huff a delirious laugh. 

“No killing me with your thighs, Granger,” he teased as she came down, wiping his face with a palm and crawling up her trembling body. “I’m not done with you.”

“Hm?” she tugged at his jumper and he helped her drag it over his head. She made swift work of his shirt buttons even as he brought his mouth to hers, distracting her with kisses so intense they made her heart race. Somehow in the heady daze of lust and attraction they managed to get his trousers off, as well as her bra, and as he continued to change her idea of what a good kiss could be, he positioned himself against her entrance and pushed. Hermione slid a hand along his back and down, cupping his toned arse and raising her legs as she tugged at him, urging him along. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” he groaned, picking up his pace, and she responded with a moan as he dragged his tongue along her jawline, finding a place along her throat and closing his lips on the sensitive skin there. She’d have a love bite later, she knew, but she didn’t care; the feel of him against her walls, driving in and out with an intensity she craved, was positively divine. 

“Theo,” she gasped, and he kissed her hard, lips and tongue crashing into hers with an intensity that verged on overwhelming. 

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, pulling back to prop himself up with strong arms. Hermione gasped at the new angle; suddenly every stroke struck her in a place that had the tension building at a breakneck speed. She pressed her hands against his shoulders.

“Right there,” she said, eyes rolling back in her head as he took it as an invitation to take her even harder. Every thrust brought her closer, dragged a breathy gasp from her, and she watched from beneath her lashes as Theo let his head roll back, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of her clenching around him. “Theo— Theo—”

She came with a cry, shattering around him as he continued to drive into her. He dropped down to an elbow, still thrusting, and pressed his lips to her collarbone, using one free hand to palm her breast. Her fingers went into his hair, her body shaking with waves of pleasure beneath him. He finally followed her into bliss, her name caught halfway on his lips as he spasmed against her. 

He kissed her languidly as he withdrew from her, wedging himself into the space between her and the back of the couch and holding her to his chest. Hermione slipped an arm around him, tucking her leg between his, enjoying the afterglow in his arms.

Finally, after snogging her so thoroughly that Hermione was half asleep in his arms there on her couch, Theo pressed his lips to her forehead and said, “I like muggle film night.”

***

Hannah Abbott greeted Hermione with a broad smile and a full-body hug. “It’s been years, Hermione, wow, you look exactly the same. Come in, come in!”

Hermione glanced nervously at Draco, who squeezed her hand before letting her go to take her coat. Moments later, the tall and reedy Astoria Greengrass floated into the front hall, smiling cheerily. Her light brown hair was twisted back in a French twist, a few pieces falling gracefully around her face. 

“Mum!” Scorpius launched himself at her, wrapping tightly around her waist and pressing his face into her belly. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, sweetling,” she replied, ruffling his hair. “But I hear you got to go to the muggle museums with Hermione, I bet that was fun.”

He beamed. “We saw the Rosetta stone, mum. And they had all sorts of things from Ancient Egypt! Mummies and canopic jars and sarcophagi!”

“Incredible!” she smiled down at him, and looked up at Hermione with the same lovely hazel eyes she’d come to adore in Scorpius. “He won’t stop talking about you, I think he’s a bit smitten.”

“He’s not the only one,” Hannah said, a mischievous glint in her eye. Draco groaned amiably, taking the ribbing with a smile on his face. “Well, well, let’s get the two of you settled. What do you drink, Hermione? We have red and white wine, or if you’d rather something stronger, we’ve got a solid bar selection.”

“Red wine would be lovely, thank you,” Hermione said, allowing Draco to guide her further into the house with a hand to the small of her back. It was comforting, and between his presence, Scorpius’s constant chatter about all the things she’d taken him to see at the British Museum, and Hannah’s familiar ebullience, it wasn’t long before Hermione was completely at ease.

“So, Hermione,” Hannah asked, halfway through the meal. “I hear you’re two steps away from becoming Minister of Magic.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she smiled. “Edna’s in no hurry to retire, and she’s popular. It could be years.”

“She’s an absolute hellraiser, you know,” Astoria said. “Mum’s got stories for days about their time at Hogwarts. You know they were thick as thieves.”

“Were they?” Hermione asked. “Edna hasn’t said much about her school days. It’s always work with her.”

“Oh, yes,” Astoria nodded, taking a sip of her wine. “You should come by sometime when mum’s around, I think she’d love to meet you. You know Scorp’s been telling the whole family how he’s friends with the Hermione Granger now.”

Hermione felt her cheeks flare, charmed by the boy’s adoration of her. Draco laughed, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow. She smiled back at him, thoroughly enjoying herself. She hadn’t felt this comfortable at a family dinner since the Weasleys before she and Ron had broken up, and it was nice to know it was a dynamic that could be found elsewhere. 

“Oh!” Scorpius leapt out of his chair, bolting into the next room. 

“Scorp, we’re still eating!” Astoria chided him halfheartedly. “Where are you off to?”

“I want to show Hermione my ornament!” he shouted back, and Draco shook his head as Astoria laughed brightly, her voice like bells. Scorpius came barrelling back into the room. “Look, look!”

He held his hands flat, side by side, and above them a silver quidditch player flew in circles, tossing a quaffle to itself. Hermione beamed brightly. “It’s lovely, Scorpius.”

“I’m going to play quidditch next year,” he announced, and Draco leaned sideways, his arm across the back of Hermione’s chair.

“Of course you are, Scorp,” he said. “Now go put that back on the tree and finish your dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, and he vanished back into the other room. 

“Did you get him the broom or the owl?” Hermione asked quietly, and Astoria laughed.

“Both, of course,” she said, a twinkle in her eye as she answered for Draco. “Didn’t you, Draco?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” he smiled, and Astoria rolled her eyes.

“As if he would deny Scorp anything,” she said, a smile quirking the side of her mouth. Scorpius returned, surreptitiously wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Sneaking into the biscuits, are you?” Hannah admonished him, and his eyes went wide, lips pressed tightly together to fight a losing battle against a guilty smile. 

“Oh, it’s Christmas,” Hermione said gently. “What’s the harm in a biscuit?”

Scorpius beamed at her. There was chocolate in his teeth.

***

They arrived back at Draco’s flat late, having put Scorpius to bed at Hannah and Tori’s with the promise that Draco would return the next morning for presents. 

“He adores you,” Draco said, dusting himself off from the floo. 

“I’m glad,” she replied, shrugging her coat off. He took it from her, stepping into the hall to hang it in the closet. Without another word, he slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her close for a kiss. She closed her fingers around his wrist, placing her other hand on his chest. 

Something about the kiss nearly made her cry. It was sweet and slow, heartfelt, and carried with it the weight of something big and life-changing. His other arm went around her back to hold her close. When he finally pulled away from her, he kept his beautiful grey eyes locked to hers, and very softly, he said, “Stay with me tonight?”

“Okay,” she replied, just as softly. He kissed her again, steering her further into the flat. As he turned them into the doorway of his bedroom he dipped to reach beneath her dress and haul it up and off of her. Hermione responded by curling her fingers around his belt, unbuckling it and unfastening his trousers. When they fell he stepped out of them, taking the opportunity to pull his own shirt off before sliding his hands around her back and opening the clasp of her bra. 

He slipped that off her shoulders, tossing it aside, and made quick work of her knickers before he stepped back and took a long look at her. His eyes grazed her whole body slowly, appreciatively. Hermione watched him, lip caught between her teeth, and waited. His eyes came back to hers and the corners of his mouth turned up just in a soft smile. 

She could see his heart in that moment. It was in his eyes, an offering for her to take, and without hesitation she reached for him. He closed the space between them in an instant and captured her lips with his, guiding her back to the bed and onto the mattress. 

He pulled her to his chest and they lay entwined in a tangle of limbs. With one hand he roamed her body, caressing her skin and curling his fingers around her leg, lifting it up and hooking it over his hip. Finding her heat with two fingers, he worked her with his hand until she came with a shuddering whimper, never once stopping his worship of her mouth with his. 

With a slight shifting, he slid into her slowly, stretching her with a girth that she hadn’t expected. She pulled away from him with a gasp, a small smile on her lips, and took a moment to adjust as he seated himself within her. 

“Hermione,” he said, softly, reverently, and she cupped his face with a hand and locked eyes with him again. She pressed her lips to his and rocked her hips against him, slowly at first and then with more urgency as their lovemaking progressed. Draco slid his hand along her arm and found her fingers, twining them with his, and rolled them, pressing her into the bedding as he found a new angle for them. She arched against him and he increased his pace. As the pressure built within her, Hermione squeezed his hand, adoring the way he kept close to her as he drove into her again and again.

When she came she curled against him, drawing her legs up and clinging to his shoulder, crying out his name. He slowed, dragging his full length almost entirely out of her and then in again a few times, groaning as she shuddered around him before finally spilling within her. 

He rolled them again, not wanting to crush her, and she nuzzled against him with a sated hum. Running his fingers through her hair, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and tugged at the bedding, dragging it over them. He held her close as their breathing slowed.

As she drifted slowly into sleep in his arms, he murmured against the top of her head, “I’ve fallen so fucking hard for you, Hermione.”

***

“Happy Christmas, Hermione!” Ginny attacked her with a handheld popper that spewed confetti everywhere, getting it all over Hermione. She couldn’t help but laugh, glitter and colorful paper sticking in her hair. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you could make it,” Molly Weasley bustled over, wrapping her in a tight hug. “You know you’re always family, despite my idiot son.”

“Molly,” she chided. 

“Oh, hush,” she said with a tweak to Hermione’s cheek. She bustled away again, which allowed Ginny the opportunity to lean in close.

“Have you made your choices yet, Hermione?” she asked, and Hermione heaved a great breath, letting it flap her lips comically as she let it out again. Ginny laughed.  “So that’s a no.”

“I can’t. If they don’t want a triad I’ll die,” Hermione confessed, and Ginny dragged her by the elbow to the couch, plopping her down and leaning on her. 

“Have you brought it up?”

“No,” Hermione said. “I’m terrified. If they don’t want it then I have to pick and I don’t think I can. Gin, they’re both amazing.”

“Merlin,” she sighed. “Well, okay, worst case scenario. What happens if they don’t want the triad? Who do you pick?”

“I don’t know,” she leaned her head on Ginny’s shoulder. “They’re just so different. Theo’s like…” she hesitated. “Okay please don’t think of this sexually at all because I’m about to compare them to your brothers.”

“Okay…” Ginny replied hesitantly. 

“Theo’s like George. He makes me laugh so much. It’s always fun with him, and he’s up for literally anything. I showed him a James Bond movie not too long ago and he just went with it. He’d never seen a television before in his life and suddenly he’s watching Goldeneye with me.”

“And Draco?”

“He’s like Bill,” she said. “He’s quieter, more careful, but he cares so deeply, Gin. And there’s this depth of emotion there that I’ve never found with anyone before. And with him there’s also Scorpius, and I swear, Gin, I would leap in front of a killing curse for that little boy already.”

“Aw,” Ginny squeaked. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I like both of them for completely different reasons and I feel like if I lose either one--”

“Hermione, for Merlin’s sake, you have to talk to both of them. At least try, okay? Tell me you’ll try?”

She nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “I don’t think I can… with both of them at the same…”

“So pick one,” Ginny offered. “They’re best mates, right?”

Hermione nodded.

“And they work together, yeah?”

She nodded again.

“So pitch it to one of them and let them talk it out.”

“Which?”

“I don’t know, Hermione,” Ginny said. “That’s a choice you have to make.”

“Well if you had to talk about something serious with George and Bill, who would y—”

“Bill.”

Hermione nodded yet again, and she let out a frustrated little whine, hugging Ginny awkwardly on the couch. 

“Everything all right in here?” Arthur Weasley’s voice interrupted. Hermione offered him a shaky smile, while Ginny beamed up at her dad from the couch.

“Right as rain,” she said. “Is it time for pie?”

***

DMLE, 8:00 AM, the 28th of December

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Theo drawled, leaning over the table and slamming his forehead into it. He bounced his skull against the surface a few times. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What do we do?”

“Call Potter,” Theo suggested. “Fuuuck.”

Draco tossed the slip of paper on the table, scowling at it.

DM, TN:

Avery’s in Diagon Alley. He’s taken an interest in Undersecretary Granger. Seems to think it’d get the two of you off his back long enough to get out of the country if he made her disappear. He was speaking to someone in a cloak, might’ve been MacNair based on the accent. I’d have taken them in right then, but I didn’t have backup, and I was too close to call for help. Don’t fancy getting murdered three days after Christmas. This is the best I can do.

Act fast,

CM

“Where the fuck is McLaggen’s partner?” Draco grumbled, as Theo conjured a patronus and sent it off to Harry. 

“Malaga, I think,” Theo replied. “It’s why McLaggen’s on local detail and not his usual tracking.”

“I’m warning her,” Draco said. “Be right back.”

***

Hermione frowned, throwing another handful of floo powder down in the grate and announcing her usual Ministry destination. Nothing happened. 

She looked at Crookshanks. “That’s funny, isn’t it?”

He yowled at her.

“Well, the walk isn’t bad, and it’s nice out,” she said. With a wave of her wand, her robes were transfigured into jeans and a jumper, and she pulled on her coat and scarf. She started down the street toward the Ministry, enjoying the contrast of the sunshine with the cold air. 

The unmistakable pop of apparition sounded beside her. Far too close for comfort. A rough hand closed over her mouth, and a strong, cruel arm squeezed tightly around her waist, trapping her arm against her side. She clawed at the hand at her mouth, but her assailant held tight. 

A rasping voice said, “Hello, Undersecretary Granger,” and she felt the familiar twist and pull of apparition.

***

DMLE, 12:15 PM, the 28th of December

“No one has seen her. The floo at her flat was tampered with,” Harry clipped briskly, glancing quickly between the two of them. “She’s not anywhere I’d expect. Not the Weasleys, work, or that cafe she likes, I even checked Flourish & Blott’s—”

“I tried her flat this morning but she was already gone,” Draco added.

“Have you fucking classed it an abduction yet, Potter?” Theo ground out.

“Yes,” he replied sharply. The muscles in his jaw were tight, his teeth clenched. 

“Then why are we still here?” Draco asked, and Harry gave him a tight smile.

“I’m not convinced we have a lead on where they might have taken her. Avery’s last known whereabouts are the Leaky, and Cormac’s been there all morning with no luck.”

“And in the meantime?” Theo asked.

“She’s a fucking muggleborn, Potter,” Draco snapped. Harry’s eyes shot to his.

“No shit, Malfoy.”

“This is Avery and possibly MacNair,” he pushed back. He paced, running both hands through his platinum hair. “She’s not safe with them! They won’t bloody care what happens to her—”

“Draco, please,” Theo put a hand on Draco’s arm. It calmed him, and he stared at Theo. “She’s Hermione Granger. She’ll at least put up a hell of a fight.”

Draco took a deep breath and scanned the tabletop where they’d kept all of the case notes. Theo did the same beside him, and Harry from the other side of the table.

“We’ve looked over these dozens of times,” Theo sighed, and Draco cut him off with a hand in the air, pushing papers aside. “Draco?”

“There,” he pointed at an older document, half-buried beneath newer missives. “If it is MacNair, then this--”

“We might as well try it,” Theo said. Both of them looked to Harry.

“Go,” he said, and the two of them apparated on the spot.

***

Hermione was furious.

Because she’d been struggling, she was splinched in the side-along. Nothing serious, she surmised, by the fact that her assailant had unceremoniously ripped her sleeve away to assess the bleeding and left it alone. But she was splinched all the same, and knowing how it had scarred Ron, she wasn’t pleased to think how this event would permanently mark her.

And the arsehole had taken her wand.

He’d used her wand to bind her. It had resisted him and therefore her bonds were made of itchy, lumpy rope that bound her too tightly around the wrists and weighed heavily over her shoulders. Her arms were wrenched behind her back and she’d been dropped on her arse in the corner of a miserable looking house with peeling wallpaper and carpet that was at least six different colors, depending on where you looked. It smelled foul.

Then he’d silenced her and tested his silencing spell by kicking her repeatedly, forcing her to curl into herself against her bonds to try and shield herself from his assault. She knew she would have bruises all along her arm, leg, shoulder, and ribs on that side. But as long as he didn’t return and that was the worst of it, she had to be thankful.

Her assailant had an accomplice, and she could hear them arguing about what to do with her. One of them wanted to just kill her and be done with it, leaving her body as a present for the DMLE to waste their time on, while the other advocated for having a little fun with her first and really make it hurt. She didn’t want to think too hard about whether they meant to hurt her or hurt the people who would mourn her. But considering she recognized one of them in that vague, memories-of-the-war kind of way, she didn’t think it could be anything good.

So she was content with them arguing with one another, rather than aiming wands at her.

Her wrists ached, and her fingers were numb. The knots that bound her arms were too tight, but the ones around her legs left a bit of wiggle room. It was better than nothing, so she tried to shimmy them down her legs. If she could get a loop or two off, it would loosen the whole thing and give her what might be her only opportunity for escape.

She worked at getting the rope over her feet, though the process tightened it painfully around her shoulders. Just as she thought she might have it far down enough to hook her heel against it and tug, there was a bright light and a commotion from the doorway. Jerking her head to try and see what was going on, she lost her balance, tipping sideways and landing painfully on a particularly thick portion of her bindings.

But despite the pain, she felt relief.

She could hear Theo. 

Flinching against her bonds, she tried to wiggle her shoulder up and reposition herself. There was a series of loud bangs, red and green flashing from the next room, before Draco burst through the door and knelt beside her, tapping at her bindings with his wand. They vanished and he helped her up. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and her fingers went to her throat to signal she’d been silenced. He lifted that as well.

“I’m fine,” she said, as soon as she could speak. “I mean, all things considered. Nothing a trip to St. Mungo’s won’t solve.”

He frowned and pulled her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. 

“Fuck,” Theo’s voice came from behind them. “I sent for Potter. She’s okay?”

“I’m okay,” Hermione said, and she reached for him. To her surprise, Draco held one arm out for him as he approached, only letting go of her to bring Theo fully into the embrace.

She burst into tears.

“Hey,” Theo stopped, alarmed. “What—”

“Hermione?” Draco frowned down at her.  

“You’re okay, Hermione, we have you,” Theo added. She clung to them, her fingers wrapped in the cloth of Theo’s shirt, her other arm tight around Draco. 

“I can’t,” she sobbed, her tears soaking into Draco’s shirt “I can’t choose, I don’t want to—”

“What? Right now?” Theo asked. “We’re not making you—”

“No,” she shook her head. “I mean I don’t want to choose, I want…” she took a deep breath, trying to contain herself, and she looked up to find Draco’s eyes first. Very quietly, she asked, “What if I want to choose both of you?”

Draco’s eyes skated to Theo, and Hermione held her breath as she watched him, terrified of what might be the next thing out of his mouth. She wrenched her eyes shut and pressed her forehead back to his chest, finally taking a shaky breath. 

Theo spoke first. “I’m not opposed.”

Hermione’s lip quaked as she risked looking back up at Draco. His grey eyes were already fixed on her, and new tears welled in her eyes as she waited. Then, he smiled down at her, the left side of his face dimpling. “Me either.”

***

“‘Mione?” Ron peeked his head around the door frame to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking over some paperwork. She looked up and offered a smile.

“Hi, Ron.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “Imagine my shock when I got a floo call from St. Mungo’s.”

“I forgot you were still my contact,” she said apologetically. “I’ve changed it, it won’t happen again.”

“It’s all right,” he said. He stepped into the room. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Just some bruises,” she said. “And I got splinched.”

“Yikes. Not as bad as mine, yeah?”

“They said it’ll scar, but it’s not big.” She lifted her arm to show the bandage. 

“Good—”

“Greetings, Weasley,” Theo came into the room, Draco and Harry not far behind. Ron spun his head around to watch them all file in, bewildered.

“Bloody hell, I think one Auror would’ve been enough,” he quipped nervously. Harry clapped him on the shoulder.

“This is pleasure, not business,” Harry clarified. “Paperwork’s done, criminals are apprehended. These two practically gift-wrapped them for the Ministry.”

Draco shook his head wearily as Theo grinned proudly, dropping to the bed beside Hermione. She leaned against him with a sigh. 

“Haven’t you told him yet, Hermione?” Harry asked, raising a brow as Draco rounded the bed to sit behind her. He laughed outright as Ron tilted his head, processing the scene before him. 

“Right, I’ve been meaning to,” Hermione grinned sheepishly. Harry barked a laugh.

“Hell of a thing to forget to mention,” he chuckled, shaking Ron amiably. “Why don’t we leave these three to it.”

“Er, yeah,” Ron smiled awkwardly. “You’re… I knew about Theo, but—”

Harry leaned in and whispered. “They’re a triad. It’s new. Let’s go, I’ll catch you up.”

“‘Kay,” he blinked. He let Harry lead him out of the room with an awkward wave. 

“That went well,” Theo quipped. Hermione laughed softly, handing him the papers in her hand so that he could put them down on the bedside table. As he did, Draco tugged at her shirt, urging her to turn. He wrapped her in his arms as she did, pulling her down on the mattress in a snuggle. Theo curled himself around her back. 

“Am I dreaming?” she asked quietly.

“Nope,” Theo replied, shuffling a little to get comfortable. Hermione heard him and Draco share a quick peck, and then one of them pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“I might be,” Draco offered. He ran a hand along Hermione’s shoulder. “You brought us back together. I never expected that.”

Hermione looked up at him curiously. “Back together?”

“Mm,” Draco affirmed. 

“Why don’t we go home,” Theo suggested. “And we can tell you that whole story later. With wine. Maybe even in bed.”

Hermione smiled, laughing as they squeezed her tightly between them. She had definitely made the correct choice.

***

“Happy New Year!!!” Scorpius screeched, launching sparkling lights into the night sky. Astoria and Draco knelt to either side of him, doing the same, while Hermione, Hannah, and Theo sipped on champagne and watched. 

“So where are the three of you sleeping?” Hannah asked curiously. Hermione shook her head.

“We can’t decide which flat we like best,” Theo laughed. “Hermione likes mine. Draco likes Hermione’s. I like Draco’s. It’s a nightmare.”

“I could be persuaded to stay at Draco’s, but Draco was thinking of getting rid of it already before all this,” Hermione said. “Go figure.”

“So you’re just hopping between three flats at the moment?” Hannah asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” Theo bobbled his head, debating on how to answer that. “It’s more that we’ve spent most of our time at Hermione’s.”

“I have a telly,” she said, leaning conspiratorially to Hannah. She gestured to Theo. “And this one likes James Bond.”