This was my 2015 Interhouse Fest fic (interhouse-fest . livejournal . com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. This fanfic is a one-shot.

My prompt for the fest was:#169 – "A game of truth or dare or spin the wand (or something similar) lands Hermione behind silenced, magicked bed curtains with Draco/Theo and having to snog him for ten minutes. It's the best ten minutes of her life."

Thank you so much to gjeangirl for the beta! You are the best!

Thank you to the Mods for hosting this awesome fest yet again!

DISCLAIMER:"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

TIMELINE: A/U Hogwarts era (1998)

MAIN CHARACTERS FEATURED: Hermione Granger x Theodore Nott

SECONDARY CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order by last name): Millicent Bulstrode, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini

SUMMARY: Everyone said Hermione was the brightest witch of their age, and that Theodore Nott was the most beautiful male of their generation. Essentially, they were perfectly matched: he was the beauty to her brains. It was just too bad he didn't feel that way. Or so Hermione thought…


WARNINGS: Implied sex (het and lesbian), Kissing games, Spiking the punch, Explicit profanity, Self-confidence issues (angst)

EXTRA NOTES: Just for reference, I picture Theo looking like the young man in the portrait "A White Fox" by yangqi on deviantart (Google it if you can).



Everyone said Hermione was the brightest witch of their age, and that Theodore Nott was the most beautiful male of their generation.

Essentially, they were perfectly matched: he was the beauty to her brains.

It was just too bad he didn't feel that way.

Or so Hermione thought…


To say Theodore Landon Nott was merely 'attractive' was as understated a sentiment as referring to the Greek god, Apollo as merely 'comely'. Theo was, simply put, the most handsome, elegant, and sensual man in Britain, and quite possibly in all of Europe. Fae-beautiful, with long, dark hair that fell to his belly and shone with a raven's gloss in the torchlight, intelligent eyes as blue and mysterious as twilight, full lips that teased a pout, and a pleasing, well-muscled form, he was the culmination of a long-considered, exacting history of splendid breeding.

Basically, the Head Boy had won the physical genetic lottery by more than an arm's stretch, leaving the rest of their classmates (both male and female) in his dust. But it wasn't just in looks that were awe-inspiring. It turned out Theo was also an intellectual, fashionably stylish, magically competent, and he had a wicked sense of humour.

He was, in a word, perfect.

Sadly, he knew it, too.

Hermione had been in love with Theo for as long as every other girl (and many of the boys) in school had: since third year when he'd seemed to sprout up overnight, his body and face losing it baby fat and filling in. When his personality had seemed to mature right along with his form…well, that just made him more of a sin to desire for someone like her, someone dedicated not to falling for the sexy, smart, insanely talented prince of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, a young man who'd already slept with far too many witches for Hermione's comfort levels.

But like any good cliché, she'd fallen right into him anyway, internal protests and all. And for four years, she'd been secretly, silently pining away for him, knowing how impossible and foolish it was to wish for a chance with him. She just wasn't that lucky…or that perfect—and certainly not woman enough to catch his attention, anyway.

The truth was he was the only boy to ever intimidate her—not in a bullying sense, but in a feminine one (although he did enjoy gently tugging her hair and genuinely being a teasing git towards her in classes this year and during their Heads meetings). Standing next to Theo made her terribly aware of all her short-comings in the beauty department…

She sighed and turned away.

Pansy drew her out of her melancholy thoughts by growling, "Whose turn is it, anyway?"

The Witch Queen of Slytherin ducked her head and pretended to brush something from the front of her expensive cardigan, feigning disinterest, but her face told a completely different story. Red cheeked and glassy-eyed, there was no question Pansy had been aroused by whatever had just happened between her and Neville behind the magic curtains on Malfoy's bed.

Surprisingly, Neville seemed as equally dazed and enamoured, as he kept shooting Pansy looks when the other woman wasn't paying attention to him.

Well, well. It seemed Hermione wasn't the only one infatuated with a Slytherin.

It must be a character defect in Gryffindors, she decided, otherwise why would members of their House keep allowing themselves to be ensnared by the snake-charming ways of the dungeon's residents? First Harry had courted Daphne, then Seamus had chased after Tracey Davis, and Lavender had done her very best to win over Adrian Pucey, too. Then there was Hermione's own several years-long fancy for Theo...

"It was mine!" Ginny chimed in, waving her hand around like a mad woman. "Woo-hoo! Wish me luck."

See? Gryffindor madness.

Her friend rolled a twelve-sided die into the centre of the circle that the group made in the middle of Malfoy's dorm room.

"An 'M' for Malfoy!" Draco slyly announced as the die finally stopped moving, waggling his eyebrows at Ginny.

Hermione huffed, having heard enough of his sly tricks tonight. "It's the astrological symbol for Scorpio, you nitwit. Seeing as how you're a Gemini, that knocks you completely out of this round."

He tossed her a sneer across the circle for spoiling his fun. Childish though it may be, Hermione stuck her tongue out at him in response, happy to have ruined his chance to snog her best friend senseless. Honestly, the man was a slag to the ninth degree!

Theo burst out laughing, pounding a frowning Blaise Zabini on the back. "It's your lucky night, Zabini!"

"Not so fast," Millicent drawled, smirking. "I'm a Scorpio, too." With a provocative lick of her plump bottom lip, she indicated Ginny should roll the next die, a hundred-sided die to break the tie. "Whichever of us guesses closest to the roll gets the red-headed prize. I pick… sixty-nine."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Crude. I'll go with twenty-one."

Ginny rolled. It came up seventy-two.

Millicent gave a Cheshire Cat grin. "Truth or dare, Weasley...what'll it be?"

"Dare, I suppose."

With a triumphant expression plastered to her face, Bulstrode rolled smoothly to her feet, belying her size. Not that the witch was terribly obese, but she did carry some weight on her hips, thighs, and bottom that she proudly referred to as 'fluffy, not fat'. Still, it was astonishing to see her move so fast, considering she'd always strutted a lazy gait. Clearly, the witch was as deceptive as the rest of her Slytherin siblings.

"Come along, Red." She held her hand out to Ginny. "Let's see if that mouth of yours is as feisty as the rest of you."

With a fake sigh of resignation and a glimmer of excitement in her own eye, Ginny stood and followed Millicent to the bed behind the curtains. They shut, and everyone got up and began milling around the food table set-up against the far wall, or skipping out to use the loo.

Hermione made her way over to the punch bowl, and picked up the ladle.

Theo was at her side in an instant, and his hand shot out and stopped her. "Spiked," he warned, pointing to a cuddling Ron and Astoria passed out in Adrian's bed on one side of the room, and Harry and Daphne slumbering like love-sick birds in each other's arms in Vinny's bed across the way.

When had that happened? She wondered, putting the ladle back down.

"Your lot gave them the punch first, I remember," she said, suddenly recalling Zabini offering both her friends a cup after Greg and Faye had started the game off, disappearing behind his bed curtains first. Astoria and Daphne must have shared the drinks with their boyfriends, not knowing what their Housemates had done to the punch. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Theo shrugged, attempting an innocent expression.

"You're the Head Boy! You're not allowed to do things like this!"

He merely raised an eyebrow at her for harbouring such naiveté.

"Gah! Is there anything you Slytherins won't do to poke fun at Ron and Harry? Honestly, it's juvenile, these pranks you continually pull on each other! Aren't we beyond this first-year mentality yet?"

He grinned in silent reply at her accusation, neither denying nor confirming it.

She frowned. "I simply don't understand you at all."

Clucking her gently under the chin, he gently said, "Perhaps our scheming has less to do with your Dynamic Duo, and more to do with you. Ever think of that?"

He walked away before she could reply, heading back to the circle and sat down next to Malfoy. They struck up a conversation in hushed voices, ignoring her completely.

Sighing in frustration, Hermione decided she'd had enough of serpentine company for the moment, and that she'd go talk to Neville instead. He, at least, was an honest, uncomplicated conversational partner.

She put her cup back down on the table, deciding to skip the punch tonight.


When the requisite ten minutes were up, a blushing Ginny and a grinning Millie emerged from behind the bed curtains and took up spots around the circle again. They both smelled of sex.

Scandalized, Hermione whispered in her friend's ear, "You didn't!"

Ginny shrugged, and then looked across the space at Millicent with something akin to lust. "What can I say? She has a magic tongue and gorgeous curves."

Hermione envied her friend's casual, confidant attitude about intimacy. Gin had already done practically everything there was to do, and she had absolutely no issue with discussing the details, either. And while her friend bragged all the time about her orgasms (the girl seemed to be able to come at the drop of a hat), Hermione had yet to experience climax, even while touching herself in private.

The fact of the matter was Hermione's mind may have been exceptional, but her form hadn't quite caught up to that same level of success. She resembled less a woman of eighteen, and more a girl of thirteen with small, barely-there breasts, a diminutive waist, and hips that were merely an after-thought. She was also the shortest witch in her class, more pixie than siren, coming in at scarcely an inch over five feet. It was as if she'd barely hit puberty, and as she watched girls like Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson and even Ginny bloom into fully-developed women with fully-realised sexual desires, she couldn't help but feel a little insecure about her own insufficient body.

Sometimes, she wondered if all the energy that had gone into her creation had been so focussed on her head that the rest of her had been left physically defective.

"Granger," someone said her name, and she was shocked out of her inner thoughts and back into the here and now.

"What?" she asked, wondering what she'd missed.

Across the circle from her, Theo was intently staring at her. "I rolled. It came up Virgo." He pointed at the die in the centre of the circle.

Indeed, that was the symbol for the Maiden.

"That's not possible," she said, staring at the die. She was sure her wandless, non-verbal cheat spell had been flawless. Virgo was not supposed to come up at all.

"Clearly it is, and as you're the only other Virgo here besides me..." He folded his knees up to his chest and gave her a sly, foxish smirk. "Truth or dare, witch?"

She stared across the space at him, unsure as to what to do.

Dressed in shades of midnight blue and black from head to toe, as usual, he waited with all the patience of shadowy Thanatos for her decision, unmoved by the panic in her gaze.

...And that's when it hit her: Theo had engineered this result.

He'd been the one to introduce the group to this roll-for-it version of "Truth or Dare" tonight, to suggest they play it rather than the usual card and board games, and they'd used his dice.

No wonder her spell hadn't worked! He'd probably cast his own magic over them before the game to assure no one could cheat. Or, that only he could... That he'd be the only one rolling Virgo tonight, to ensure both he and her would remain out of the reach of the others, and available only to each other.

She glanced over to where Ron was snoring up a storm, and then over to Harry where he was clearly out for the count. And wasn't it convenient that her two, most jealous guardians had become indisposed so early on that they couldn't participate—or rather, interfere—in the game?

"You set this up," she accused him.

Again, he didn't admit or deny anything. Instead, he simply shrugged. "I'm lucky with dice. Ask anyone."

Blaise huffed. "It's true. Bastard always beats us at Hazard."

"It's an issue of weighing odds and rolling well." Theo brushed invisible lint off his trousers. "And you still owe me ten galleons, by the way."

"I'm with Granger. I think you cheated," Malfoy said. "Roll again, and this time without the little flicking wrist thing you did there at the end."

"Shit, is that how he does it?" Blaise demanded. He pointed at the die. "Re-roll you fucker."

As casual as could be, Theo grabbed up the twelve-sided die and did as requested. He even exaggerated the throw so everyone could see it in slow motion. "See, no wrist flick... and it is Virgo again." He held his hands apart as if he was as mystified as the rest of them. "Obviously, it was meant to be."

Draco and Blaise both growled and sat back, thwarted, believing the second verdict. Neville and Pansy were too busy pretending not to watch each other to pay attention to the game. Ditto for Ginny and Millie, who were engaged in a sexually-charged thumb war, uncaring of the rest of the room's goings-on. Ron, Harry, and their partners were still out cold. And Faye and Greg had never re-emerged from behind his bed curtains since round one, and so everyone assumed they were out of the game for the night.

…Which left Hermione as the only person truly aware of what had just gone down.

Theo was a lying, cunning little snake. She'd felt the tiny push of his magic at the moment he'd released the die. It was subtle and delicate magic, something expertly honed from years of practise, but there was no question that it had served his purposes well tonight. He'd blatantly cheated, and yet no one seemed the wiser…except her, of course.

It seemed the Head Boy was much more skilled at magic than he'd ever let on. Hermione wondered what else she'd underestimated about him over the years.

He turned the full force of that lovely, perceptive gaze on her once more. "Right, then, let's get to it. Truth or dare, Granger? What'll it be?"

Clearly, Theo had wanted to be paired off with her. He'd outmanoeuvered them all to assure he'd get this chance to wiggle some embarrassing secret out of her, confidant that she'd choose 'Truth'. And she had an inkling that she knew what he'd ask her as he'd been dropping subtle hints all year that he would someday find out the identity of her first lover.

Not that she had one to brag about or anything.

Well, it seemed only right, then, that she return the favour of knocking Theo off his smug perch.


No one had been expecting that answer, and it gave Hermione intense satisfaction to see so many jaws drop—including Theo's. Those who were still conscious and sitting at the circle all stopped what they were doing to turn and look at her with shock.

"Y-You're serious?" Theo asked, looking like someone had just hit him with a gut punch, one-two.

She stood and brushed off her skirt. "Well, should I guess which bed I think is yours," she asked him, "or am I to play Goldilocks to find which one is 'just right'?"

"Who?" Draco frowned as Theo made his feet, still wary that this wasn't all some trick she was playing on him this time.

"Malfoy, do the world a favour," she said, as Theo took her hand and led her to his bed. "Read a book every once in a while, won't you?"

Blaise's laughter filled the room, rousing a snore from Ron.


All sound outside the sanctuary of the bed abruptly shut off as the curtain shut and was spelled to Muffle noise going in both directions.

Hermione kicked her shoes off and sat on the end of the mattress near its foot. "So, are you going to tell me now what spell that was you used as you re-rolled the die, or shall I have a guess?" she asked. "And don't bother denying it, as I felt you casting magic."

Theo removed his shoes as well and took a seat opposite her near the headboard. For the third time tonight, he evaded her. "Why did you accept the dare?" he asked instead.

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."

He stared at her for a silent moment, clearly 'weighing the odds', as he considered the gamble of truth versus continued denial. She patiently waited.

"It's magic, of a sort. Just not traditional magic taught here at Hogwarts," he hedged.

"What, do you have your own personal genie in a bottle helping you?"

He smiled, but shook his head. "That's one guess. I'll give you two more."

"And if I get it right?" she dared.

Theo's smirk widened. "I'll let you do to me any one sexually naughty thing you want."

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying not to let him see how his offer had made her heart pound and her thighs clench with need. "Who says I want to touch you like that?" she bluffed.

Theo shifted on the bed and crawled over to her. "Don't play coy now, Granger. I know you've been watching me for years. Did you think I couldn't feel your gaze on me?"

Her face felt hot, but she'd be damned if she'd let him make her feel like one of his idiotic, simpering females, so easily bewitched by him. "So, you're a delight to the eyes. So is a Hippogriff, but do you see me clamouring to hop on one and go for a ride?" She hadn't even considered the sexual innuendo inherent in her words until after they'd left her mouth, but she wasn't about to stammer and attempt to take any of it back. Instead, she let the remark lay between them, and pretended it had been intentional.

His eyes sparkled with filthy mischief. "Do you often take rides on strange beasts?"

"No, and if you insinuate otherwise again, I'll hex you so hard, you'll be speaking only Parseltongue for the rest of your natural life. Are we clear?"

Chuckling, he leaned forward, letting his mouth glide temptingly close to hers. "Two more guesses, Miss Granger."

"What do you get if I lose?" she asked.

"You have to spend the night here with me, in this bed."

She clucked her tongue. "I counter the offer. If you win, I'll kiss you. If I win, you'll have to answer one of my questions, and do so truthfully."

He paused, considering the gamble. Finally, he said, "Agreed."

Hermione considered what she knew about luck magic. "You somehow caught a leprechaun and asked it for a four-leaf clover in exchange for its freedom?"

"Nope," he gleefully informed her, licking his lips. "One more chance."

She put everything she had into the guess, mulling over all she'd ever read on magical superstitions and rituals relating to luck. "Clearly, it wasn't a potion like Felix Felicis or a talisman like the clover, because it felt like you released a spell."

That's how she stumbled upon the answer.

"You're a Kinetomancer, aren't you? You have the ability to nudge moving energy with your magical aura. You make the dice roll whatever you want by gently prodding them with your will as you throw them."

He dropped his eyes to the coverlet and bowed his head, accepting defeat gracefully. "Should have known you'd figure it out. You're so bloody smart, Granger."

She snorted. "Yes, well, knowing things may have aided me academically, but it tends to intimidate. That doesn't do much good for one's social life." She meant it to be a joke, but it came out sounding a tad too self-deprecating.

Besides, Theo didn't agree. "Any man who's intimidated by a smart girl, rather than inspired by her, isn't much of a man to begin with." He took her hand in his and raised it up, kissing the backs of her knuckles. "Now, ask me your question, Hermione."

That big brain of hers went blank in that moment, as every sense tuned into Theo touching her, kissing her fingertips now.

Had he just called her by her first name?

"W-What are you doing?"

He glanced up at her from beneath thick, black lashes, but kept placing small kisses on her hand. "Do you really want to waste your question on something so obvious?"

"Why?" she asked instead, and realized that was the question she really wanted to ask him.

"Don't you know?" he countered. "I thought I'd made it obvious all year how I felt for you. I like you, Hermione Granger. Much more than a little, closer to a lot."

She blinked, unsure how to reply to that.

"I realise Gryffindors tend to need big, loud gestures of intent, but I'd assumed you to be a bit more nuanced to subtlety."

"So you pulled my hair, and mocked and irritated me?"

He grinned and kissed her knuckles again, then turned her hand over and pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist, moving incrementally higher with each subsequent kiss. "It got your attention, didn't it?"

She growled, but it came out sounding a bit…breathy as his mouth reached her inner elbow and his face drew nearer to hers. "It nearly made me curse you into oblivion." A whimper escaped her mouth as he skipped up her shoulder and headed for her throat. "I-I-I thought that I won the game, not you."

"You did," he agreed, placing kisses all up her sensitive skin, nipping her earlobe in passing, and drawing a moan from her. "Now I want my dare." He peppered her jaw line with kisses, angling for her mouth. When he drew up even with it, he looked her straight in the eye. "Dare you, Granger."

Well…how could she possibly resist such a challenge as that?


The room was hushed by Silencing Charms behind each set of closed bed curtains, and Hermione assumed the game had ended with everyone partnering up, especially given the amount of sexual tension going on in the room last night.

Throwing on Theo's long, rumpled shirt and her knickers, Hermione tiptoed across the Slytherin dorm room to the door, thinking to make a hasty run to the loo before anyone could spot her.

Ironically, Ginny emerged from behind Malfoy's bed curtains at that same moment.

They stopped when they spotted each other.

Her girlfriend looked at the state of her, and a wide grin split her face a moment later. "Well, well," she whispered. "Your first walk of shame—and with Nott, no less, the boy of your every dream!" She held up a hand when Hermione made to argue. "Please, you've been eye-fucking him for years. Not that I blame you, you lucky bitch."

"You slept with Malfoy?!" Hermione asked, slightly appalled.

Ginny shrugged. "Well, his tongue was definitely less talented than Millie's, but he makes up for it with more-than-adequate pelvic thrust force. I think I'm going to be walking funny for the next few days."

Hermione wished it was possible to scrub the inside of her brain of that thought. Perhaps later, with a careful Memory charm. "Are you going back to the dorms?" she asked her friend.

"Nah, Zabini's waiting for me to get back."

"Zabini, too?!" Hermione eyed her friend. "Are they together as well?"

Ginny's grin was positively infectious as she flung her arm through Hermione's and directed her towards the door. "I'll tell you, if you tell me—and don't skimp. I want all the juicy details!"

As they went to the loo together, getting lost in the Slytherin labyrinth once on the way to and once on the way back to Theo's dorm room, they talked in hushed whispers about Hermione's first time, and how utterly perfect it was. It seemed Theo had found her small, rather unexceptional frame to be anything but…and he'd proved it to her again and again through the night.

It turned out she wasn't defective at all. And somewhere between his sheets she'd finally felt as though her body had caught up to her mind.

"So, do you think this is something serious between you two?" Gin asked her, as they stopped at the boy's door, just before re-entering. "Usually falling for your first lover never ends well. Just saying."

It was Hermione's turn not to commit to a definitive answer, and for once, it didn't feel like a bad thing to do. "I've no expectations, but I do have a hope that he'll want to explore what's between us and see where it leads."

"Especially the part about orgasms," her friend joked, waggling her ginger eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes, especially those," she agreed.

They giggled and hushed each other, then giggled again like children. Then, when they'd calmed down enough, they opened the door and returned to the beds they'd earlier abandoned, bidding each other goodnight.

As Hermione slid back under the covers, Theo rolled over and automatically reached for her. He pulled her close, snuggling his groin into her backside and pressing his face into her hair. "I'm so lucky," he murmured, already falling back to sleep almost instantly. "We're so perfect together."

Smiling, Hermione relaxed into his embrace, happy he thought so, too.



I had 3 goals when writing this story: meet the prompt challenge, write a wickedly naughty/sexy Theo, and highlight Millicent Bulstrode as a curvy, delicious sex goddess. I hope those goals were met, despite the fact I truly feel this one should have been several thousand words more to make it more well-rounded. Alas, I ran out of time for the fest to really give this one the 'big GO' it should have been given. And right now, I'd rather use the time to finish my WIPs than go back and revise this one, honestly, so this story we'll chalk up to being completed, with no sequel planned. Maybe someday, if I get inspiration, time, and more energy to come back to it, I will.

Still, there were some fabulous pieces for this year's Interhouse Fest (interhouse-fest . livejournal . com). Go check them out and review them, if you would. Our fandom's writers and artists could use all the love right now!

Thanks again for reading & (hopefully) reviewing!