A/N: Unfortunately, the season of education is upon us once more:/ It's funny, really. In an ideal world, I would simply be an author with the ability to travel a corona-less world and meet the hundreds of people who connect with my work. Obviously, we can't all have what we want, which is why I am continuing my work towards a degree in business in hopes of one day becoming a corporate drone. Because of this commitment I cannot promise many updates in the coming months; while I would love for writing to be my only priority, I have to be realistic and so I apologise in advance to anyone that expected me to reach the Order of the Phoenix by the end of the year.

Chapter 17

The date had created such a sensationally high feeling; not even Karkaroff's increasingly constant moodiness could rain on Thorfinn's parade. It had gone so well, in fact, that Hermione had agreed to abandon her revision timetable for the following Friday. The second date outside of the castle had included a casual café lunch and a viewing of a matinee performance of To Kill a Mockingbird. Unfortunately, as they had been returning to Hogwarts, Hermione discovered that Thorfinn was now in command of a house elf. The lightness of the date had diminished almost immediately.

"You have a slave, Thorfinn!" exclaimed a livid Hermione, who had been going off in the middle of the drawing room for at least five minutes. From the offset, her brown eyes seemed to glow slightly as a result of her virtuous magic and Thorfinn found it tremendously enrapturing. Once her rant had entered sixth gear, he settled himself on one of the sofas with a long sigh, stretching one arm across the back of it while crossing his left leg over his right. His nonchalance appeared to irritate his better half even more. Rocky – the adorably innocent bystander – was frozen by the door in his clean pillowcase; his big eyes were darting between the two almost comically.

"Look, even if Rocky was treated as a slave by my parents, I do not treat him as my slave," argued a mystifyingly calm Thorfinn.

"Do you pay him?"

"No."

"Then that is slavery! Unpaid labour, at the very least," Hermione continued to argue. "Honestly, I thought you knew better."

"I do know better," Thorfinn said slowly, "if anything, Rocky's more of a mix of a friend and a kid at this point. He hadn't been doing very well by himself so I figured I'd try and help him get back into shape." The point he had made managed to placate Hermione momentarily, but the look she gave him told him that the debate was far from over. Even though it clearly had the ability to be a tiring subject, Thorfinn found himself less bothered than he usually would be. The reason was obvious, of course. Fiery Hermione was downright delightful to watch. It would be preferable if her anger was not directed at him specifically, but beggars could not be choosers.

"And have you asked Rocky how he feels about everything?" she nagged, crossing her arms in protest.

"Hermione, when I got here he was bloody distraught," Thorfinn responded with a rather sassy roll of his eyes. Hermione silently noted that the action reminded her of Ginny somewhat; maybe even Harry to an extent. Perhaps she could bring Thorfinn around Harry more often? She had a gut feeling that the two would actually get along once the ice was broken and Thorfinn bothered to put in effort and have patience. Regardless, this train of thought was completely off topic.

"You do realise that you're quite possibly taking advantage of Rocky while he is in a fragile state, don't you?"

"Rocky is not fragile, miss," said the house elf in question, taking a few steps forward and bowing his head forward slightly in respect. "Rocky is strong, miss, just like young Master Rowle."

"Master?" Hermione echoed, turning to look at Thorfinn with a single brow raised. "Really, Thorfinn?"

"He's comfortable with the term," shrugged Thorfinn. "Although I will admit that it gets confusing when he starts mentioning my dear departed father, too."

"Master Rowle, sir," started Rocky, "Rocky can address you as Lord Rowle, sir, if you wish."

"Go on, then," Thorfinn encouraged, "and while we're on the topic, I very much doubt that Hermione would appreciate you calling her mistress." Hermione shot him an incredibly nasty look at the thought. Truly, she could not think of anything worse. "You know, Rocky, I think she'd much prefer Lady Rowle-"

"Thorfinn!" she hissed harshly, the sudden colour in her cheeks making an arrogant smirk spread across his lips. "We're not married!" Despite the comment, Rocky looked absolutely overjoyed by the revelation. The house elf almost looked to be vibrating in happiness and his big dark eyes were becoming slightly glossy.

"Rocky is very happy for Lord Rowle," beamed the elf. Hermione could not find it within her be angry with the cheerfulness on display. Other than Dobby, it was not massively common for elves to broadcast this much positive emotion in front of witches and wizards. "Lady Rowle?" Rocky spoke up and Hermione couldn't help but flinch at the address. "Rocky wishes to stay with Lord Rowle and his family, miss. Rocky is feeling better now that Lord Rowle has returned – and Rocky is very glad to serve another Lady Rowle that is pretty and smart, because mistress is missed."

"You don't need to call me Lady Rowle, Rocky, it is wholly unnecessary and while Thorfinn and I are together I am not a Rowle-"

"Yet," muttered Thorfinn, coughing behind a closed fist to haphazardly cover the statement. Hermione looked at him in both alarm and disbelief.

"Thor, we've officially been together for less than a week!"

"Thor?" he smirked. "Since you've already given me a nickname, you may as well be Rocky's Lady Rowle." Hermione's face flamed and she turned away bashfully. Shortening his name had not been intentional, but she supposed Thorfinn was an unusual mouthful to repeat on a consistent basis. It was either Thor or Finn, and he most certainly did not strike her as a Finn. He was definitely more of a Thor; he had a brittle temper and strength like the Thor of Norse mythology too, so it fit. Though, she did wonder why so many pureblood wizards had such dramatic names. Introducing him to her muggle family one day would be a palaver, she knew.

"Miss?" Rocky questioned, standing very close to Hermione's leg. "Rocky does not want you to be angry with Lord Rowle. Lord Rowle means well, miss."

"I'm sure he does," she responded with an eye roll of her own.

"Rocky would like to be your elf too, miss."

"Oh, no, that really isn't necessary," said a panicked Hermione. She looked to Thorfinn for help, but he did nothing more than smirk cockily. Well… she would get him back for this. That was a promise Hermione made to herself. Light-hearted revenge would be a delight.

"Why would Lady Rowle not wish for Rocky to be her elf?" asked Rocky. The house elf then proceeded to push out his bottom lip and Hermione looked at the brewing breakdown apprehensively. "Is there something wrong with Rocky, miss? Does miss already have a better elf?"

"No," Hermione said softly, lowering herself to her knees rather gracefully. "That is not the case at all, Rocky; I happen to think you are extremely wonderful." Rocky's gaze fell to his own small feet at the compliment and it appeared that the tears had been prevented for now. Thorfinn seemed to summon a small amount of pity in that moment; watching Hermione's communicative struggles was awfully amusing, but he did not wish to see any tears. They still made him very much uncomfortable.

"Hermione," started Thorfinn, "I know that you are not technically Lady Rowle, but I think you should accept Rocky anyway. I understand your reservations when it comes to house elves – I'd also appreciate it if you would stop glaring at me like you are now, because it is insanely attractive and I'm losing my train of thought – but as I was saying, if it were simply up to me I would have you bonded."

"Thorfinn-"

"Let me explain," he cut in smoothly. While he hated to talk over Hermione because he adored her voice and the intelligence she almost always spewed, he felt it was necessary in this moment. "I do not want you to bond with a slave, I want you to bond with a companion. House elf magic is very convenient as you know. If either one of us were ever in danger, nine out of ten times Rocky would be able to take the one in peril to the safety of the other as a result of a simple call. Then, of course, if anything ever happened to me – god forbid – I would know that you would be looked after by Rocky at the very least. And before you say what I know you are going to say, when I say looked after I mean in every way possible. If you accept Rocky, you will always have a friend. Unconditional support."

"Nothing would happen to you," Hermione scoffed reluctantly. While she did her best to present an indifferent visage, Thorfinn could tell that some of his words had upset her slightly. He forced himself not to feel guilty about it; the truth almost always hurt, after all. "Don't say things like that, Thor," she continued, "they're not very nice."

"Rocky agrees with Lady Rowle, sir," muttered Rocky. "Bad Lord Rowle, sir," was the scolding that the wizard received. Thorfinn could not believe that they were already ganging up on him.

"Regardless," said Thorfinn, "I've made my point. It's completely up to you, Hermione. I know we haven't known each other all that long, but you really are my favourite person. I'll always want you in my life no matter the capacity, which is why I encourage you to accept Rocky. And I'm very aware that I sound like a little bitch right now, but I don't care. You are the only witch that I have ever envisioned myself committing to and there'll be a tiny weight taken off my shoulders if I know you've got Rocky in your corner."

Hermione glared at him icily but her posture was a clear image of resignation. He had just all but poured is heart out to her, and there was no way she could say no after that.

"Also," he began to add, "I'm sure that Rocky would be willing to answer every question you have about house elves. Be good to have an ally, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes," she mumbled, standing firmly with her hands on her hips. "If I decide to do this, I expect compromise. For example, I'd like to work out how to pay Rocky without insulting him so that he can buy himself some clothes."

"Because technically if he bought clothes for himself it would not be us freeing him," said Thorfinn thoughtfully. "That's decent logic, Hermione; I promise we'll look into it. So what's it going to be?"

There was a brief pause.

"I'm such a hypocrite." Hermione stated with a sigh.

Thorfinn just grinned.

As the Easter holidays came to a close, Thorfinn could not avoid the disheartened feeling. Professor McGonagall had explicitly stated that he would no longer have access to her floo once the term started back up, and after everything she had already done he knew better than to push. After the dates during the first week, Hermione had spent the second week of the holidays revising militantly. It gave him time to himself – something that he was very much used to – and while he missed conversing with her and kissing her without worry, he could admit to himself that he also managed to get a lot of work done and training in while Hermione was otherwise occupied. They still managed to meet for a couple of meals and quick pulls in the library but it was not the same. Hence the disheartened feeling.

There was no time to wallow, however. Because Malin Stenberg was currently hovering outside his room contemplating whether or not to knock and how many times to do so. Thorfinn was by no means a master when it came to sensing magical energy; Hermione's was a prominent exception in terms of fellow teenagers, as most were not strong enough for him to feel. Apparently, the nervousness and obvious panic that Malin was currently exuding was enough to be a beacon. It was strange, distracting, and very much annoying. Thorfinn sighed angrily, grumbling under his breath as he tossed his occlumency book onto the floor beside his bed.

Malin jumped in shock when he swung the door open with insane force, looking at him with an expression of extreme surprise. Her full lips were open in a complete O shape and her neatly fashioned eyebrows may as well have been a part of her hairline.

"What?" Thorfinn snapped simply, fixing her with a firm frown. It was not one of his notorious 'promise of a slow death' glares, but it was definitely enough to unsettle her even further.

"I need your help vith somethink, big man," muttered Malin as she nervously picked at the skin surrounding her thumb nail. The action was odd. She was not the type to do such a thing; too perfect.

"Can't you ask one of the others? I'm sure the lads would fight each other for the right to help you out."

"I can't," she emphasised. The very open mix of emotions on her face told Thorfinn all he needed to know. He was the only person on the ship that she felt she could go to. Because she knew that she did not have to explain.

"Fine," grumbled Thorfinn. "Tell me."

"Can I come in?" Malin asked, looking around the ship nervously. The topic of conversation was clearly not made for any ears other than his, and he did admit to himself that he was now slightly curious.

"No."

"Vell, it vas vorth a try," she joked uneasily, aware that no other student had ever been inside of his Durmstrang dormitory. "Do you know vhere ve can go?"

"We can go and sit down by the lake – should be fine if we both put up a couple of spells," suggested Thorfinn. Malin nodded in agreement and he turned to close the door to his room before they departed the ship. While there were a couple of groups of students down by the lake because of the relatively nice weather, the two soon found a spot. Malin had taken to absentmindedly skimming stones across the waters; Thorfinn had sat down on a nearby boulder and was impatiently waiting for her to say whatever she needed to say.

"How are fings vith your lady?" questioned Malin, turning to face Thorfinn as a stone skimmed magnificently along the shimmering surface.

"Fine," he said bluntly. "She's my girlfriend now."

"Dat's good…" she trailed off. Thorfinn felt his jaw twitch in irritation; small talk was often utterly irrelevant and entirely unnecessary. "How did you ask her out?"

"I walked up to her and asked her."

"Is dat all?" Malin said in surprise. "Vell, girls alvways have said yes to you, big man… do you fink dat vould vork for me, too? I have never asked anyone – boys alvays come to me and let me tell dem no, and ve did not ask each odder, really, it just happened."

"Is this what's causing you all that stress?" he laughed. Malin glared at him furiously but did not deny it. "Don't tell me it's that veela that's got all the lads drooling-"

"Shut up, Rowle!"

"Oh wow, is it actually?"

"No!" she snapped. "It is an English girl."

"They are very nice, aren't they?" he said smugly.

"I do not know how I have not seen her before," started Malin. "Ve have been here for months… but I had no words, Rowle – it vas so embarrassing!" Thorfinn looked incredibly amused by her current struggles but was wise enough to refrain from commenting as she began to pace. "I vas in de Hogwarts library to find a book to help me vith my charms essay. I vas told vhere to go to find vhat I needed, but vhen I got dere, dere was dis girl quickly going through de pages of a book. De girl vas so pretty, Rowle. I froze."

"You froze?" he repeated, his arms folded across his wide chest. "You got shaken up by someone's looks? When you look like that?"

"Stop it," muttered Malin. Heat had risen from her neck and up into her pale cheeks. It did not appear to be the flattery that had caused her the embarrassment; she had put up with desperate boys for years at this point and had heard more than a few compliments. Rather, it was the idea of admitting that her often unwavering confidence had been impacted. Malin had always presented herself as a woman that was both poised and in control. Becoming a nervous mess around an English girl most certainly did not fit her carefully constructed image.

"So what happened?" questioned Thorfinn.

"I just… stared," she grumbled, mortified. "For like two minutes!"

"I stare at Hermione all the time." Thorfinn admitted shamelessly, shrugging his shoulders in a show of nonchalance. "Honestly, I don't see the problem. You do know how many lads have stared at you over the years, right? Only fair you get a turn. And I know some of the creepier looking dudes have probably made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but I doubt that the girl was upset at all if she saw you giving her a look over."

"Oh, she did see," sighed Malin, "she must have felt eyes on her, because she looked up and den…"

"Then?"

"She is so pretty, Rowle. I am in love."

"Woah, OK," he said quickly, "I think that's a bit much. You can't possibly feel that – you don't even know her!"

"Love at first sight." Malin stated with a wistful grin.

"Do you even know her name?" deadpanned Thorfinn.

"Vell… no. But she vears red like your lady, so I fought maybe you could ask her if she could help? Dey might know each odder. I do not know if de girl vould give me a chance but your lady might know if she vould. Please? You are an ass but I know dere is good in you. Help me out? She is so pretty dat I vant to serenade her vith ABBA."

Thorfinn shook his head quickly, almost giving himself whiplash.

"No ABBA," he said quickly. "Definitely no ABBA."

"Vhy not?" pouted Malin.

"For a start, you don't know her status – I doubt there is more than half of the Hogwarts population that has even heard of ABBA. Then, there's also the fact that even if you can sing, the thought is incredibly cringe-worthy. Oh, and the girl might hate ABBA with every fibre of her being! You've got to think about these things."

"Take all of de fun out of it, den," Malin responded, rolling her eyes dramatically. "How else can I ask her to take a chance on me?"

"That was awful," huffed Thorfinn, doing his best to look offended by the cheeky reference. While most of his expression remained in a disapproving frown, the tiniest smirk of amusement managed to twitch at the left corner of his lips. "But honestly, I don't know how to help. You know how things were with me and the girls back at Durmstrang, since you were one of them and all. And Hermione, well, we sort of just stumbled upon each other and clicked without much effort. But… since I'm 'an ass but dere is good' in me, I'm willing to involve Hermione. You've got to be willing to tell her everything once we all sit down together, though; I don't need her getting pissy with me because I'm helping out someone I fucked."

"Vhat did you just say?" she ground out icily, a daunting glare settling on her often neutral face. Thorfinn felt his heart freeze for a brief second. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that it was his wording that had caused her reaction. Whoops. "You know vhat, Rowle? Ve can go and see your girlfriend tonight and I vill tell her all about de time ve fucked!"

"Malin…" he trailed off, bringing one hand up in order to pinch the bridge of his nose. She stormed off back to the ship before he could say another word, but Thorfinn heard her mutter the word disrespectful under her breath, sandwiched between slews of what was likely vicious Norwegian. He wasn't sure why what he had said had caused such an overzealous reaction, though he did store it away in his mind so that he would not make the mistake again. Having a furious Malin Stenberg out for his blood was not ideal nor was it productive.

Thorfinn sighed to himself, rising from the large rock and crouching to pick up an oval pebble. With a firm flick of the wrist, he sent the stone skimming rapidly across the lake. As he watched it – thinking about his behaviour at Durmstrang and his social faux pas – he could not help but mutter under his breath:

"It's only natural, but why did it have to be me?"

Then, realising he had just quoted ABBA, his face dropped.

After that painful occurrence, Thorfinn chose to train up until dinner. It kept him off the ship and far away from Malin's spiteful wrath while also providing him the right to a huge meal. All in all, it was a win-win situation. Malin met up with him on the ship after he had stuffed himself so full with protein that simply walking was a task. She looked over him in annoyance and rolled her eyes a few times but did not comment. Instead, they wandered up to the castle in silence. The only noise that could be heard was the clicking of Malin's uniform shoes against the cobbles.

"Come on," muttered Thorfinn, "she's probably still in the hall." Malin shrugged and hummed noncommittally at his statement and he began to feel a small tingling of irritation. Was she really still hung up on the comment from earlier? "What? You're not speaking to me now?" he snapped.

"Say sorry and I vill," she shot back.

"Fine," huffed Thorfinn, coming to a stop just a minute away from the hall. "Miss Stenberg," he began pompously, clasping his hands behind his back. "I, Thorfinn Rowle, Lord of the Ancient and Reputable House of Rowle, hereby apologise on behalf of the Ancient and Reputable House of Rowle for any and all misgivings-"

"You are an ass!" she hissed, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. "You know for a fact dat I cannot turn down dat apology. If my moder heard dat I said no to an official apology, she vould disown me – she may have married a muggleborn but she still likes some traditions."

"I figured it was the quickest way to get you to stop being off with me," chuckled Thorfinn. "And it worked, didn't it? You've accepted the apology and now you can stop being mad and annoying me."

"I have not accepted anyfing!"

"But you have to so…"

"Lord Rowle!" called out a distinctly pretentious voice from down the corridor, breaking up the petulant back and forth. Thorfinn's teeth snapped together in an almost animalistic manner at the interruption, and Malin quickly ceased her earlier arguing immediately. She was a well-educated young lady when it came to the subject of wizarding society. Presenting herself as both proper and refined, she moved herself to stand very closely to Thorfinn with her posture high and her hands clasped politely.

"Can I help you?" Thorfinn questioned incredibly coldly. The step of boy who had been swaggering up to him stuttered momentarily at the tone. Regardless, Draco Malfoy would not be intimidated; he would not fail a task that had come directly from his father.

"I apologise for the interruption, Lord Rowle," said Draco, his nose high as he looked over Malin with a keen glint in his eyes. Thorfinn heard the tiniest huff of disapproval escape Malin's nose and had to hold in a mean smirk. Little boys like this Malfoy always seemed to have a thing for Malin; even a couple of Durmstrang purebloods had made it known that they were willing to 'taint' their line if it meant being with such a sophisticated beauty. Of course, Malin wanted absolutely nothing to do with men altogether. No one knew that, though, and Thorfinn doubted that blokes would let up on their pursuits even if her preference was common knowledge.

"Malfoy…" Thorfinn growled out very slowly. "If your gaze does not move from the lady's chest within the next two seconds, I will throw you head first off of the balcony of your Astronomy Tower." Draco's eyes snapped up to meet his almost immediately, looking up at him with both hesitance and pitiful aggression. "Malin," Thorfinn began, his tone smooth and velvety, "perhaps you should go ahead – I will catch up to you in a few minutes." The witch in question did not try to argue, and she moved away very promptly in order to escape the tense atmosphere surrounding the small group.

There was a drawn out pregnant pause before Draco cleared his dry throat.

"I apologise," said Draco. "I did not realise she was yours."

"She isn't – she belongs to no one," corrected Thorfinn. "Did you actually need me for something, Malfoy? I'm sure you've already noticed that I am not one for pleasantries, seeing as you have left me alone for the majority of my time here… although, that is much to your chagrin, I'm sure."

"I have a letter for you. It has come directly from my father, Lucius Malfoy, and he requested that I hand it over personally as a show of good faith," explained Draco. The Slytherin reached inside of his expensive robes and produced a pristine cream coloured envelope. Thorfinn took the item carefully and with a suspicious glare; Karkaroff had told him all about Lucius Malfoy, and Hermione had mentioned the family a fair few times as well. "My father is keen to make your acquaintance, Rowle. I understand your parents were very good friends of the Lestrange family; of course, Bellatrix Lestrange is my mother's sister, and I am under the impression that my parents were fairly familiar with your family also."

"I see." Thorfinn stated stonily. The letter sat unopened in his left hand, as he had no intention to read it in front of Draco. His thumb brushed over the elegant Malfoy seal a couple of times while he waited to see if the boy would continue with his painfully asinine speech.

"Father also requested I inform you that you are welcome at Malfoy Manor if you wish to visit. You see, a lot of wizarding families know that what has been written about you and Potter's filthy little mudblood is an intentional slander of your character. To us – the right sort, as you know – what you did at the Yule Ball was nothing more than an ingenious power play."

As Draco continued to prattle on, one of the nearby windows cracked from top to bottom in a harsh vertical line. Thorfinn was focusing all of his energy on maintaining a neutral expression. The way in which this little brat had spoken about Hermione was unforgivable and he had not struggled to keep his temper in check as much as this for a very long time.

"You know, Rowle, when you first walked in with a mudblood on your arm we all thought you to be a traitor! But then we understood. You come from Durmstrang – you come from the Reputable House of Rowle – there was no way you would throw away your prestige in our society for the sake of some common filth. Rather, you showed your superiority without a single spell. When I told father he said that you showed political promise. I happen to think that it was very clever of you to you sweep Potter's know-it-all mudblood right out from under him, then drape Rowle jewels all over her to show just how much control you have!"

"And that is why I have not been receiving accusations?"

"Yes. I have requested that my fellow Slytherins keep their distance unless approached. The wrong sorts in our world have no respect for your family, but we most certainly do."

"I appreciate you making the request, Malfoy. My tolerance for discussion is often spectacularly low," said Thorfinn. While he absolutely loathed the way in which Draco talked about Hermione and wanted to wring his skinny neck for it, he did actually appreciate Draco's actions. It was also a relief that pureblood families like the Malfoys did not put much stock in the writings of Rita Skeeter. Knowing that he had less enemies than he had anticipated took some of the paranoia from the back of Thorfinn's mind. He would let them believe what they wished. Of course, that also meant that he would have to be even more careful when it came to being with Hermione from now on; the two of them being constantly attacked for their Romeo and Juliet moment was not what either of them needed in their lives at the current time.

"I hope you consider what my father has to say," said Draco. "It is a relief to many that the Rowle line remains alive – my parents and I included."

"I will read the letter," replied Thorfinn. "Now, if you don't mind…"

"Of course," Draco said quickly, stepping to his left and standing side on to Thorfinn so that he could pass without unnecessary diversion. Thorfinn almost snorted at the excruciatingly obvious butt kissing from the young Malfoy. After all Hermione had said about Draco, it was rather strange to engage in such a civil interaction with him. As he walked away from the young heir, Thorfinn watched vigilantly over his shoulder; Hermione had recalled the story of Professor Moody turning Malfoy to a ferret because of an intention of a curse to the back very fondly, and he wanted to make sure that he would not take an unexpected hit. Draco just watched him leave, however, even inclining his head in a respectful manner as Thorfinn rounded the corner.

Wow. Who knew Thorfinn had such power?