Year Eight - July

The trials were held in rapid succession. Theo, Draco, and Goyle were among the first, as they were among the first to turn themselves in. Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had been given an emergency appointment as Minister for Magic, wasted no time rallying the Wizengamot to process the least culpable Death Eaters.

Not that Theo considered himself among the least culpable. In their haste to move past the war, the Wizengamot didn't bother spending much time investigating the cases against the three Hogwarts students (Crabbe being a non-entity, having died in the Battle of Hogwarts). After all, what could three students have really accomplished for the Dark Lord? It helped that Theo had testimonies from Neville and Hermione on his side. Potter testified for Draco, once again causing Theo to resolve to lock them in a room together one day. No one testified for Goyle, but no one believed Goyle capable of tying his shoes, much less performing real services for the Dark Lord. The records showed the students performed Unforgivables under duress, and if Draco had seen to it that Goyle didn't remember Theo's tracking spell, no one was telling.

"One year's probation," came the commanding voice of the High Warlock, "under the authority of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, at which time your record will be reviewed for further sentencing."

The chair in the centre of Courtroom Ten released Theo and he stood. He nodded to the High Warlock before turning to his new probation officer.

"I will expect you at Hogwarts one week from today," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "You, Mr Malfoy, and Mr Goyle will report to me weekly until such time as I feel you can be remanded into the care of another." Her lips twitched upward with the barest sign of conspiracy. "I think, perhaps, Mr Longbottom might be willing to keep an eye on you."

Theo tried not to show his relief. "Wouldn't that be a conflict of interest?"

Professor McGonagall lifted her chin and levelled a dignified stare at him. "He has supervised you in the past with some success. I see no reason that should change."

It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay expressionless in the midst of the gossiping warlocks. Theo bit the inside of his cheek and gave Professor McGonagall a nod. "I will see you in one week, Headmistress."

Professor McGonagall patted him on the arm. "See if you can't convince Miss Granger to join us."

Theo gave up on solemnity and grinned. "She missed an entire year. I can't imagine it'll be hard to convince her to return for an extra month."

Hermione paced her bedroom at Grimmauld Place, hands over her face as she fretted. "I should've—"

"Don't even start, Hermione," said Theo from where he sat on the bed. He had a surprisingly ferocious glare. She stopped short, startled by his vehemence. "Open your journal to the last page."

Frowning, Hermione retrieved her journal and opened the back cover. A dense series of hash marks filled one corner of the page. "What is this?"

"This," said Theo with a sour set to his mouth, "is the number of times you blamed yourself for something that wasn't your fault, or put Potter and Weasley's needs above your own over the last three years."

Hermione felt a jolt of surprise and ran her finger over the marks. "But I—"

"I'm responsible for more than fifteen documented deaths, Hermione—"

"Your father—"

"—and I committed three premeditated murders that the Wizengamot doesn't know about," finished Theo. Hermione recalled Theo's rambling confession about murdering a Snatcher and swallowed the sudden discomfort at the notion that he'd planned and executed three murders. "I spent two years planning Dolohov's death," he said, and his hand reached out as if he wanted to tuck a curl behind her ear, but he hesitated. "The other two—one murdered a Muggle-born in my own house, and the other was capturing Muggle-borns for the Ministry registry."

It was twisted, Hermione thought, how Theo justified his actions. Sweet, but twisted.

"There was no justice under the Dark Lord," he said. "Especially not for you."

Extremely twisted, and they'd already had this fight.

Hermione watched Theo for a minute, wringing her hands as she processed the reminder that this man was actually dangerous, even if he was a Hufflepuff at heart. Maybe because he was a Hufflepuff at heart. "The Snatcher in April. Was he one of them or was he in addition to?"

"He was one." Theo watched her carefully, never diverting his eyes in shame. He'd told her, months ago, that he would never feel remorse for using the Dark Arts. That obviously wasn't fully true, seeing as he'd managed to sever his connection to the Dark Mark through tears of remorse mixed into a healing potion. But obviously there were some crimes he would never feel guilty for committing.

"Do you—do you have plans for any more?" asked Hermione, finding herself afraid of the answer. Her fear grew exponentially when Theo didn't immediately respond.

"There is a difference," he started slowly, "between having a plan and taking action." Hermione was not at all comforted by this. "Had the war dragged on, I had plans to remove twenty-four Death Eaters from the Dark Lord's service, apart from Dolohov and Donovan."

Remove. There was an interesting new word for murder.

"And now that the war is over?"

"Well, Bellatrix is dead. Amycus and Alecto will get fair trials. My father is in the wind—"

"Your father?" asked Hermione, horrified that Theo had even considered patricide.

"I've sworn off the Dark Arts, Hermione," said Theo with a resigned sigh. "If I hadn't, I promise you that the Ministry and I would be in a race to catch him first."

"But he's your father," said Hermione. "I know he's evil, but could you live with murdering your own father?"

Theo didn't even blink. "I would sleep better at night knowing he had gotten his due." He shrugged, unrepentant. "Now I just have to hope the Ministry gives him a life sentence in Azkaban." Hermione still felt uncertain, and Theo shook his head. "Your parents fix teeth for a living. Mine murders people."

Hermione had to stop a, So did you, from crossing her lips.

"Do you still love me?" The question was filled with false confidence.

Hermione sighed and stepped forward between Theo's legs. He hesitantly put a hand on her hip, and when she didn't protest, he lifted the other to settle on her other side. "I don't like what you did," she said bluntly. "And I don't like that you used me as your justification." She rested her hands on Theo's shoulders and locked her eyes on his brilliant, beautiful gold ones. "But I think I finally understand. I understand it was war, and I understand that you were punishing the bad guys. Promise me—" She drew one finger under his chin so he couldn't look away. "Promise me you're done with being a vigilante. I don't want to wake up one morning and see a headline that some Death Eater was mysteriously poisoned to death."

Theo looked at her steadily, but she could feel the way he clenched his jaw. "And what if I can't promise that?" Hermione began to step back, but he held her still. "What if someone like Amycus Carrow gets off on a technicality and goes right back to torturing children?"

"They won't get off. None of them will."

"That's what everyone thought in the last war," said Theo, trying to hold his frustration at bay. "And somehow people like Lucius Malfoy and my father walked free. My father had more than thirty deaths to his name in the first war, Hermione, and he walked away with an Order of Merlin."

Hermione hesitated. On one hand, she wanted to believe that justice would prevail under the new Ministry. On the other hand, the Ministry had repeatedly shown itself to be corrupt, and governments were regularly bought and sold. Lucius Malfoy had proved that time and again, hadn't he? And even if Kingsley was incorruptible, that didn't mean the people serving under him were.

Maybe it was Theo's influence. It might have even been Neville's and Ginny's, who both shared horrifying stories about their year. As much as it pained Hermione to admit, there was a chance that justice would not prevail. Some Death Eaters had vaults that could keep the Ministry running for years, including Theo's father. The idea of reparations had been tossed around but stalled in the Wizengamot because no one could agree on how they should be charged. If Theo's father, or Lucius Malfoy, for that matter, volunteered enough gold to buy his way out of a trial before reparations were decided on, would the Wizengamot turn a blind eye to such a blatant miscarriage of justice?

Hermione's sense of fairness said no. Her instincts said yes.

"We decide together," she said finally, and Theo blinked in surprise. "If a Death Eater—"

"Or a Snatcher."

She gave him a withering look, which only resulted in a smirk. "Or a Snatcher," she amended, "escapes justice, you will bring your grievances and your plan to me for approval."

"You realise that would make you complicit in any murders I potentially commit," said Theo slowly.

"There are things worse than death," said Hermione. She grinned as an idea occurred to her. "Such as transferring all of your father's vaults into your name and removing him from the wards around Nott Manor. He can't buy his way out of a conviction if you control his wealth."

"Yes, but then he'll try to murder me," said Theo, though he was smiling.

Hermione considered that. "If your father attempts to murder you, I'll kill him myself. I refuse to let you commit patricide."

"And you love me." Theo's thumb ran along the hem of her shirt, threatening to slip inside.

"And I love you," agreed Hermione. Her hair fell over her face as she leaned down to kiss him. Hermione had settled down on his lap and his hands had just begun wandering along her skin toward her bra clasp when a disgruntled protest came from the door.

"Why is this door closed?" demanded Ron through the door. "I thought we agreed you aren't allowed to close your door when Nott's over!"

"You're not my mother!" Hermione called back, breaking away from Theo with a furious blush.

"I'm going to get Harry!"

"Harry's not my mother, either!"

"Isn't Girl Weasley here?" asked Theo. "I thought I saw her robes on the rack."

"Yes," said Hermione with a devilish grin. She extricated herself from Theo's grasp and opened the door. "Wait for it."

Two minutes later, a startled yelp and a furious, "GINNY!" echoed through Grimmauld Place. A shouting match ensued, and Harry came running down the hall, swinging around Hermione's door frame to hide in her room.

"Nott," said Harry, looking embarrassed as he pushed his glasses up.

"Potter," replied Theo with a smirk. "Did you forget to lock the door?"

"We weren't—er—"

"You weren't in your bedroom?" demanded Hermione. Harry looked sheepishly at the floor, tugging on his collar. His hair was a wilder mess than normal, not that Hermione had been under any illusion what Ginny and Harry were doing for the afternoon. "Honestly, Harry!"

Theo held out his hand for Hermione's and she allowed herself to be tugged back to stand between his legs, still facing Harry. He wrapped his arms around her hips and held her to his chest. "This is the first time the Chosen One hasn't had the weight of the Wizarding world on his shoulders," said Theo, and Harry looked confused by the defence. "Let him be a normal teenager for the first time in his life."

Hermione scoffed, but had to admit that Theo was right. "He should still have the decency to keep it in his bedroom."

"Like we did on Monday?" mused Theo, and Hermione felt her cheeks begin to burn. "Wait, no. That was the guest bathroom downstairs, wasn't it?"

Harry looked like he was going to be ill.

"Or was it the coat closet? No, actually, I'm fairly certain it was the hall—"

Hermione slapped a hand over Theo's mouth, and he started laughing while Harry looked increasingly scandalised. "We haven't—" started Hermione, livid with Theo for trying to embarrass her and Harry. Harry shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear anything else.

Theo took Hermione's hand in his own and kissed her palm, making her blush even further. Harry excused himself and hightailed it for the kitchen.

"You are the worst," hissed Hermione as she whirled around to face Theo. He looked completely unapologetic, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"You need to let the Chosen One be a normal teenager," said Theo. "He has several years of carefree youthfulness to catch up on."

Hermione sighed. "I know that, but he's almost eighteen—"

"And Snape always said no one is a responsible person until they're at least twenty-five."

Hermione sniffed in protest, mildly offended. "I'm responsible."

"So you are," said Theo, wisely choosing not to argue, though Hermione could see his real opinion in the way his mouth twitched upward. "I believe Weasley interrupted us somewhere around here." Theo slid his hands under Hermione's shirt, and she immediately protested.

"The door!"

"What about it?" asked Theo, hooking his legs behind her calves to prevent her from moving.

"Ron has to come back this way—"

"You're really going to deny me the opportunity to scar Weasley?"

"Yes!" said Hermione, and fought to step out of Theo's grasp.

"One kiss," bargained Theo. "One kiss and I'll let you close the door."

"Fine." Hermione leaned down. If she'd been smarter, she would have remembered that one kiss always led to two, and two always led to four, and four generally led to Theo attempting to remove her shirt while she straddled him and fiddled with his tie.

"HERMIONE!" shouted Ron, sounding strangled.

Hermione's hands stopped and Theo smirked against her lips. "You can close the door now."

"I loathe you," whispered Hermione.

"I love you, too."

Hermione turned to face Ron, who was an impossible shade of purple. "You said I couldn't have my door closed with Theo here," she said innocently, though she knew she was blushing like a schoolgirl. She straightened the hem of her shirt and was distressed to realise Theo had managed to unclasp her bra.

Ron was looking resolutely at her face.

"That doesn't mean—that's to prevent—HERMIONE," he snapped finally.

"Oy, Weasley," said Theo, and Hermione stifled a laugh as Ron looked murderous at being addressed by their guest. "McGonagall's asked me to bring Hermione back to Hogwarts next week. Are you and Potter interested in going?"

Hermione blinked, stunned by Theo's thoughtful inclusion of Harry and Ron, even if the boys had already decided on Auror training.

"I—" Ron looked equally stunned and his eyes darted to Hermione. "No, thanks." Ron frowned at Hermione. "Are you really going back to Hogwarts next week?"

Hermione shrugged. "It'll give me an opportunity to catch up. I'm sure I've forgotten loads from sixth year—"

"Merlin's pants, Hermione," moaned Ron, dragging a hand over his face. "Could you not be a swot for five minutes?

She felt Theo come up behind her and wrap his arms around her middle. "I, personally, find Hermione's dedication to academia incredibly hot. The way she works through Arithmancy problems is just tanta—"

Ron slammed his hands over his ears and turned on his heels. "No, no, no, no, no…" The refrain of "No" carried on down the stairs and Hermione burst out laughing.

"You've managed to traumatise both of my best friends in under half an hour." She rewarded Theo by letting him press her against the door frame and kiss her slowly.

"Excellent technique, Nott," said Ginny, passing by on her way down the stairs. "Let me and Harry know if you're ever up for a threesome."

Theo stopped as Ginny disappeared from sight, his cheeks pale with horror, and Hermione would have fallen over laughing if he wasn't so close. "I..."

"You deserved that," said Hermione, poking Theo in the chest.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah, probably."

She stretched under his chest. "I think I'm going to head down to the kitchen—"

"No, you don't," growled Theo. He spun her around and marched her backward to the bed. Hermione closed the door with a wave of her hand before she returned to her mission of ridding Theo of his stupid tie.

Year Eight - September

"But does he sleep in a tie?" asked Ginny, blatantly disregarding her Potions essay. Hermione groaned as Ginny's eyes grew devious. "Does he do everything in a tie?"

"Ginny!" hissed Hermione, her eyes darting around the common room.

"I'm just curious," defended Ginny. "You know, for when I can convince him and Harry to—"

"Theo is my boyfriend," said Hermione, feeling extremely possessive as Ginny insisted, yet again, that there would be some unholy threesome between her, Harry, and Theo. "If you want to do—that—I'm sure Blaise is interested."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up as she considered this. "That's not a bad idea. I'll ask."

"You'll—" Hermione put a hand to her forehead. "I'm going to bed." She began packing up her books and headed toward the stairs of the Gryffindor girls' rooms.

"Aren't you headed the wrong way?" called Ginny. Hermione turned, eyes wide, as Ginny smirked. "I know you're sneaking out every night."

"I am not."

"What I can't figure out is where you're sleeping. I can't imagine you're in the Slytherin dorms. Malfoy and Goyle would probably Avada themselves if you were sleeping in Theo's bed every night."

Hermione resolutely refused to give up any information. "And I have the Map, so don't you dare follow me," she said, glaring at Ginny.

What few people knew was that, due to their probation, Theo, Malfoy, and Goyle had been separated from the rest of the Slytherins, into rooms near the headmistress's office. Hermione certainly wasn't telling Ginny that Blaise was alone in his dorm just in case she decided to make weekend plans with Harry.

Theo's assigned room was small, barely large enough to fit the single bed, writing desk, and wardrobe. Theo, who used magic more fluently than anyone else their age, had somehow convinced Hogwarts herself to raise the ceiling by nearly fifteen feet, allowing him to create a three-storey suite, with each floor accessible via a twenty-foot ladder. The bed had been transfigured into a double mattress that took up most of the top floor. The middle storey was a small study with an ornate desk, Theo's wardrobe, and a bookshelf that extended fifteen feet high, through to the top of the suite. The bottom floor—the only one he was supposed to have—had been turned into a small sitting room that comfortably seated three, and somehow fit a grandfather clock between an armchair and the ladder.

According to Theo, Professor McGonagall had been startled when he received her in the sitting room, and had awarded twenty points to Slytherin for "exemplary behaviour" after taking in the full extent of his transfiguration. Malfoy and Goyle's reactions had been equally amusing, Theo assured her, as Goyle was entirely bemused at how Theo had managed to get the nicest room, and Malfoy was bitter Hogwarts wouldn't do the same for him.

Even with Theo's modifications, it was a small space to be shared between two people. While he sometimes studied alone or entertained Blaise and Daphne, Hermione only spent her after-curfew hours there. Late evening often found them settled on the top floor with Theo reading a Muggle novel on one side of the bed, and Hermione reviewing their essays on the other.

And when the lights went out, they talked about anything and everything until they passed out. Company and bone-deep exhaustion seemed to be the only way to keep the nightmares at bay.

Year Eight - December

They both decided to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, as Theo technically wasn't allowed to leave, and Hermione wasn't particularly inclined to leave him. As much as she wanted to see Harry and Ron, there was something else she wanted more.

"Theo." She sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the corner next to the enchanted window that made the room feel just a bit less suffocating. Her boyfriend—she would never tire of that word—cocked an eyebrow at her tone. "I've decided what I want for Christmas."

Theo narrowed his eyes. "You have the worst taste in Christmas presents."

She considered that giving him access to Grimmauld Place hadn't been the best Christmas present in the world, but it was certainly far from the worst. Her request this year, however, was probably in the bottom five. "I want to see your box."

His eyes widened. He didn't have to ask which box she meant; there was only one interesting enough to grab her attention. "No," he said firmly. "It's too dangerous."

"Not if you disable the curses," said Hermione. She felt her logic was perfectly reasonable, and Theo still looked like he was going to faint.

"Why on earth would you want to see it?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Do you trust me?"

It was a long minute before Theo nodded. "Let's go downstairs."

Hermione descended the ladder all the way to the sitting room. Theo paused at the study to retrieve the box before he joined her. He hesitated before pricking his finger on the latch. The curses unwound, sinking into the goblin-wrought silver, satisfied for the moment. He opened the box and swallowed hard as Hermione saw his collection of phials for the first time.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice light and failing miserably.

Hermione stepped forward and Theo grabbed her wrist before she could touch anything. She glanced up at his wary expression, feeling her heart constrict for this boy who still held onto his darkness. He had been right, last December, when he told her that she couldn't pick and choose which parts of him to love. If she could love the man with a deep-rooted code of honour, she could love the man who used every tool at his disposal. "Take out the blood," she said, stepping back. "I won't touch the box, but I want to see the phials."

Theo looked like he was going to protest again, but decided against it. Slowly, he removed the twenty-four phials of Death Eater blood and sat them on the coffee table. Hermione knelt down and examined the neat labels. He protested loudly as she started dividing them into two groups, but he didn't stop her. There was nothing technically dangerous about the phials themselves.

"These," she said, gesturing to the smaller group, "are still on the run." Hermione looked up at Theo, already knowing he would hate what she was going to ask next. "What do you think about reactivating your tracking spell?"

He immediately recoiled, his hand covering the unmarked skin of his left arm. "Don't ask me to do that again. Please, Hermione." His voice was as raw as she'd ever heard it, but she persisted.

"You have the best chance of finding them of anyone in the entire country, Theo. The phials are doing no one any good locked away." She reached for his right hand, tugging it away from his arm. "You asked me months ago if I would condone you using the Dark Arts to bring Death Eaters and Snatchers to justice." She stood and tangled her fingers with his. "I love you. And I trust you."

"Goddamn Gryffindors," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the table. "I'll do it, but I don't want you to see this." His eyes shifted to meet hers. "Go back to the tower for the night." Theo kissed her goodbye before she could protest. "This is going to take a few hours, and I'll be damned if I let you anywhere near that spell."

She nodded. "Okay."

When she disappeared, Theo sighed and replaced all of the phials before levitating the box to the desk in his study. Poisoning Death Eaters, he could do without blinking. He might have even enjoyed it. But he had never wanted to touch the tracking spell again.

He conjured a map identical to the one that had torn him apart less than a year ago and laid it across the desk. With his wand, he drew the runes he knew so well and summoned the first phial. Draco's blood floated into his hand, and Theo placed it on the runes. The incantation took nearly two minutes. He sat down when he finished, staring blankly at the map as the runes burned white and began to seek out Lucius Malfoy.

He could tell by the whirring that Lucius's hiding place was Unplottable, but not protected by the Fidelius. The fact that his spell could break through more enchantments than just the Fidelius was one secret Theo had managed to keep. Lucius had clearly anticipated Theo would track him, but he also had little-to-no idea how the spell actually worked.

The Unplottable charm broke, and Theo wrote down the location before directing Draco's blood back into the phial. Setting his jaw, Theo reached for the next.

He found ten Death Eaters over the next two hours. To his chagrin, his spell had grown stronger yet again, finding the Death Eaters even more quickly than he'd found the targets last spring. He wondered if he could get by with doing nothing but Transfiguration from here on out after he burned this map. Maybe that's what he would request for his Christmas present—never doing anything but Transfiguration again. Maybe Potions. He could make unholy amounts of Wolfsbane and undermine the market by providing it for free, and maybe, eventually, he would stop feeling guilty about all of the lives his tracking spell had cost.

When the final phial was squared away, he looked down at his hands. His father had once asked Theo to track the Cartwrights, but his mother's family weren't the only ones he could find with his own blood.

His father was cleverer than most, and less trusting. After his results turned up nothing, Theo conjured a new map, this one of the United States. Theo's blood came to a halt over upstate New York. He wrote down the address, and set both maps on fire.

He presented the list to Hermione the next morning. She looked it over, her jaw dropped as each Death Eater's name was followed by a precise street address. "This is incredible," she said, and Theo felt a too familiar hollowness at the praise. "I'm going to send these to Harry." She nearly rushed off, bubbling with excitement, before she caught the look on his face. "Theo."

"Never ask me to do that again," he said quietly.

Hermione's face fell, and she kissed him. He held onto her like he could absorb her goodness just through proximity. "I swear," she said when he let her go. "Honestly, I think you should get rid of the box entirely. Potions, blood, everything. It's only going to keep reminding you of what happened."

"I can do that," he said.

With one more peck to his lips, Hermione dared to smile again. "Besides, you just found your father. When the Aurors bring him in—" She shook her head. "He's going to get what he deserves, Theo, I swear to God. You just made sure of that."

Theo squeezed her hand and prayed she was right.

Year Eight - June

As was often the case, Hermione was exactly right. Thoros Nott was in custody by January 1st, and serving a life sentence in Azkaban by February. They'd celebrated with a full bottle of Firewhisky, and Theo learned that Hermione could not hold her liquor. The hollowness faded with each captured Death Eater, until his chest felt like he'd never touched the Dark Arts in his life. It was a fucking miracle if there ever was one, and he'd danced a tipsy Hermione around the sitting room until 1 AM, laughing at his own terrible jokes, and falling in love with his witch all over again.

At the end of June, Theo sat on the bed across from Hermione as she fretted over her NEWTs. She'd done brilliantly, he was certain, but exams turned her into a ghastly ball of anxiety. His nightmares had literally consisted of Hermione failing her NEWTs. He was mildly concerned that her nightmares were contagious.

"Hermione," said Theo. When she continued ignoring him, Theo summoned a wadded-up ball of parchment and threw it at her.

"Hey!" Hermione frowned at the parchment that caught in her hair. "What's this?"

"You weren't paying attention to me." Theo grinned as Hermione huffed. "You need to stop worrying."

"Since when does telling someone to stop worrying actually prevent them from worrying?" asked Hermione.

It was a fair point. Theo ignored it.

"I find myself in possession of a good fortune," he said instead, flicking his wand and pretending to examine Pride and Prejudice as it hovered in front of the bookshelf.

Hermione snorted. "And you must be in want of a wife?" She was still fiddling with the ball of parchment. Theo waited, watching her with a suppressed grin. Suddenly, Hermione stopped and looked up, her cheeks a lovely shade of magenta. "Wait." Theo said nothing. She scrambled to sit up on her knees, her face confused and flushed. "Wait, Theo—you can't—you can't possibly—"

"I debated proposing in the Ancient Runes classroom, actually," he said breezily, settling the book back in place, "but I decided this place has basically been our first home, so it felt more appropriate."

"This place is the size of a jail cell," said Hermione, clearly avoiding a response.

"I can assure you that beds of jail cells are far less comfortable." Theo tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "What are your thoughts?"

"I'm—people don't get married at nineteen, Theo."

"We don't have to get married at nineteen. I'm sure Narcissa will want to put together something horrifyingly over the top that will take at least six months to plan, plus we need to get your parents' memories back in working order. We could easily be twenty by then."

He watched an involuntary grin break out on Hermione's face. "But I want to have a career," she protested weakly, to which Theo rolled his eyes.

"You are going to have a brilliant career. You'll probably take over the Ministry someday, after you spend thirty years doing something all-consuming like working in the Department of Mysteries to replace the Time-Turners."

"I don't have—" Hermione stopped and shook her head. "I won't be some society wife, and I'm not ready for kids."

Theo's eyes widened and he fervently shook his head. "Absolutely not. Children are a several-years-down-the-road decision if we choose to have them at all." He held out an open palm, and Hermione placed a cautious hand in his. "All I'm choosing right this moment is you. Whether you choose to work at Gringotts or the Ministry or go to Muggle university or stay at home and live off my money while translating the books in my family's library, I'm just choosing you exactly as you are, and I'm asking you to choose me."

The mattress shifted under Hermione's knees as she deflated. "That's a far more compelling argument than I was prepared for," she said. "Fine."

"Fine?" asked Theo with a snort. "I ask you to marry me and your response is, 'Fine'?"

Hermione pouted and Theo tugged her across the bed until she was sitting in his lap. "Yes, Theodore, I will marry you pending two—no, three—things. First, Narcissa Malfoy does not plan our wedding."

"The Weasley mother will not be planning it either," said Theo sternly. Hermione stifled a smile.

"Second, you ask my father for permission to marry me."

"I had considered that, but I wasn't sure if Muggles had that custom."

Hermione nodded. "We do. I know it's archaic, but there's a reason it's survived so long. It's—"

"Romantic?" cut in Theo.

"Yeah," she said with a shy smile. "When it's not accompanied by dowries and goats, of course."

"A dowry?" Theo threw his head back and laughed. "Hell, I should be paying your parents, not the other way around."

Hermione glared at him. "I am not a commodity to be sold."

He placed a kiss on the side of her head. "I am well aware of that. So, no Narcissa, yes to asking your father. The third condition?"

Hermione's shoulders tightened the way they did when she was about to say something she thought he might be upset about. He was generally more upset that she thought he would get upset.

"There's this thing Muggles do. Well, some Muggles, and most of the time it's a religious thing, but it doesn't have to be, of course. It's just—"

"Spit it out, Hermione."

She flushed. "Premarital counselling." She nearly rushed to defend herself. "It's just that we're so young, and surely there are some things that we wouldn't think of on our own, and we should know about any incompatibilities—"

"You think we have incompatibilities?"

"Well," she said, likely thinking of their past rows, such as whether or not one could justifiably commit murder. "We've not always seen eye-to-eye on some major issues, even if it all worked out in the end. It would be reasonable to assume that there are things about marriage that we're wildly unprepared for."

"This relationship has survived a war, several Weasleys, and nearly eleven months in a jail cell. I think there's very little we're unprepared for."

"I disagree," insisted Hermione. "And disagreements like this are why counselling is one of my conditions."

Theo sighed, mildly disgruntled but unwilling to press the issue if Hermione felt that strongly about it. "Fine."

Hermione's lips twitched. "I agree to marry you and all I get is a 'Fine'?"

"How does November 18th sound?" he asked.

"Like you've put a very short timeline on getting my parents back, and planning a wedding, and counselling, and getting settled into a new job." She looked at him, calculating. "Besides, you hate your birthday."

"But I won't hate our wedding anniversary."

Hermione let out a sharp breath. "Wedding anniversary." She danced her fingers along his palm. "That makes it feel so real."

"It is real." Theo spread his fingers and Hermione laced their hands together. "Any other Muggle customs I need to know about?"

Hermione bit her lip. "There's generally an engagement ring so everyone knows the woman is unavailable. Men don't wear engagement rings, though, which I've always found a bit sexist. It's very much a matter of possession—"

"We can do rings. Anything else?"

"We can—" Hermione blinked at him. "No. No, everything's pretty much the same other than that."

"Excellent." Theo summoned two empty ink pots and transfigured them into small glass rings. "Will these work?"

"Yes," said Hermione, and she took the larger one and examined the light through the cut crystal for a long moment. "Left hand," she said finally, and Theo held it out. She slid the ring on his third finger, and it glowed for a moment as it resized to fit comfortably. Theo took Hermione's left hand and did the same. As she grinned down at it, Theo was surprised to feel an intense wave of possessive attraction just by seeing her marked as his. Maybe the Muggles were onto something.

"You can look at that later," said Theo, pulling Hermione's lips to his. "I'm duty-bound to ravish you now."

"Duty-bound?" asked Hermione against his lips, shifting to settle her knees on either side of his hips.

Yes, thought Theo once the only thing Hermione was wearing was the glass ring. The Muggles were certainly onto something.

He summoned his fake Galleon after Hermione had fallen into a doze, and tapped his wand against the gold. She said yes.

"You did it!" said Neville as Theo pulled Hermione into the Entrance Hall.

"Did you?" asked Theo, looking pointedly at Hannah. She leaned into Neville's side with a quick nod.

"Double wedding?" asked Neville with a mischievous grin. "Red and gold, of course."

"That would clash with our green and silver," said Theo, purposely devilling Hermione, who protested loudly.

"We are not having a Slytherin wedding."

"Obviously it should be blue and bronze," said Hannah. When the other three looked confused, she shrugged. "It's the only house we don't represent. Seems like the most logical compromise."

"That's not a terrible idea," said Hermione thoughtfully.

Theo suddenly worried that his bride was considering actually having a double wedding with Neville and Hannah. "You know we're not—"

Hermione let go of Theo's hand and looped her arm through Hannah's. "Theo was thinking mid-November. We should start looking at autumn flowers. I have a book all about their meanings."

As the girls wandered off, Neville blinked, clearly mystified. "They know we were joking, right?"

Theo watched as Hermione turned around and gave him a brilliant grin. "They know. I think this is payback." Theo narrowed his eyes as Hermione leaned into Hannah and giggled. Hermione was barely the kind to touch people who weren't himself, Potter or Weasley, much less the type to giggle conspiratorially with a girlfriend. "If we end up having a double wedding, I'm blaming you."

"That's fair," said Neville. "How are you going to break it to Harry and Ron?"

"Hermione is going to," said Theo. He refused to admit that he was looking forward to the inevitable confrontation. "I've been assured Girl Weasley will be present, which will undoubtedly make things more entertaining."

Neville looked thoughtful before a grin spread over his face. "You should invite Zabini and Malfoy. Have a whole party."

"You mean a catastrophe," said Theo, turning the idea over in his head. "Sounds like fun."

July 1999 and On

Somehow, Theo managed to convince Hermione to hold the engagement party the night before they left for Australia. More importantly, he convinced her to keep their engagement secret even though they were staying at Grimmauld Place with the Chosen One.

When the first guests arrived by Floo, Potter was delighted to see Neville and Hannah. Weasley and Girl Weasley followed shortly after, and then their first Slytherins arrived. Daphne kissed Theo on the cheek and gave Hermione a quick hug while Blaise gave Potter a long once over. The Chosen One made a valiant attempt to hide behind Girl Weasley, who was carefully evaluating Blaise. Theo managed to Silence both Blaise and Girl Weasley before they could turn the evening into an awkward situation before the inevitable fallout of his and Hermione's announcement.

Most of the remaining students from their eighth year, Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws alike, arrived in short order. Ernie Macmillan, sadly, had come down with something just before the party and couldn't attend. Draco, Goyle and Pansy hung awkwardly in the back of the room, obviously wondering why they'd agreed to attend an end-of-Hogwarts party at Harry Potter's house.

At a quarter to nine, when everyone had finished at least one glass of their chosen alcohol, Theo sent up sparks to quiet the rowdy crowd. The Gryffindors and Blaise, oblivious to everything, took several minutes to shut up.

"Hermione and I have an announcement—" said Theo, and was immediately cut off by shouting from the general direction of the Gryffindors. The Slytherins stayed silent, with eyes narrowed. Daphne looked suspicious, and Theo had a feeling he was going to get hit over the head with her purse before the night was through.

"She's pregnant!" shouted Girl Weasley, while Weasley growled, "You'd better fucking not be pregnant."

"She's drinking wine," said Dean, proving once again that the only Gryffindors worth their salt were the Muggle-borns.

"They're obviously running away to Wales, never to be seen again," said Justin, giving Theo a grin while subtly tapping the third finger on his left hand. "Congratulations."

"You're running away?" asked Goyle, who was about as sharp as Weasley when it came to common sense.

"To Wales," confirmed Hermione, and Theo started, surprised at her dry tone. "Nott Manor exists in both England and Wales, you know, and I happen to like the garden in Wales the best."

"Nott Manor?" This came from Draco, a quiet, unhappy question backed by several years of indoctrination. "You're marrying her?"

"MARRYING?" shouted Weasley as Girl Weasley squealed, "I knew it!"

"Yes," said Hermione, lifting her hand to display the glass ring. The pure-bloods looked at Hermione's hand in confusion while the rest looked stunned or pleased.

Theo coughed. "Actually, Hermione. I did some research, and it seems the ring is supposed to be diamond—"

"But I like my ring," said Hermione, frowning at Theo. "You made it for me."

Theo heard a chorus of "Awww" from the gathered crowd, and was displeased to note that Blaise's voice was the loudest. "I thought you might want something more traditional," he said, pulling a ring box from his pocket.

Hermione looked stunned for a moment before she stumbled over her words. "I don't—Theo—but the ink pots—your ring—"

Theo grinned and winked at her. "I thought you might say no," he said, and Hermione looked relieved. Theo lifted the box. "Oy, Neville!" He tossed the box to his startled cousin. "She'll like it, I promise."

Everyone turned to face Neville and Hannah, who were both burning bright red. Neville hesitantly opened the box and, to the surprise of the resident Gryffindors, swore loudly. "You wealthy fucker," he said, glowering at Theo. "Can't you just go live in your mansion and leave the rest of us alone?"

"Let me see," said Girl Weasley, craning her neck.

Neville sighed and looked at Hannah. "Would you be interested in wearing an engagement ring?" He turned the box, and several people turned back, wide-eyed at Theo.

Hannah gasped. "It's so—"

"Gryffindor," said Daphne flatly. "Rubies, Theodore?"

"I was going to say expensive," said Hannah. She took the ring box and examined the jewellery. "It's too much, Theo. We can't possibly take this."

"You two spent all of seventh year putting yourselves in harm's way to take care of people. Hannah, you single-handedly saved the lives of several students, and Neville…" Theo shook his head. "You both deserve so much more than just that."

Hermione put her arm around Theo's waist. "You saved Theo's life, too, you know," she said. "He would have—" She stopped and looked at Theo for permission. He shrugged and nodded. "Theo would have succumbed to the Dark Arts if it wasn't for you two."

Hannah looked like she was on the edge of tears, and Neville wasn't far behind. "Goddammit, mate," said Neville, pushing through the crowd to give Theo a hug. "You had this all planned, didn't you?"

"Hermione's not really the traditional type," said Theo, giving her a grin over Neville's shoulder. "She was never going to accept it."

"Wait, so Neville and Hannah are engaged too?" asked Weasley as Hannah gave Theo a hug. "Is this an engagement party?"

"Are you this slow in Auror training?" asked, surprisingly, Daphne, who never spoke a sour word against anyone who wasn't actively torturing eleven-year-olds. She proceeded to hit Theo over the head with her purse. "How dare you keep your engagement a secret from me. Did Blaise know?"

"I absolutely did," lied Blaise.

"He absolutely did not," corrected Hermione with a stern look at Blaise. "Neville and Hannah were the only ones who knew because we're planning a double wedding."

"You're WHAT?" A chorus of dismay rose from the Slytherins and Gryffindors, while the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws chuckled.

"Hermione," said Theo, slightly distressed that she was dragging out what should have been an off-handed joke. "We are not—"

"Harry and Ginny will be my bridesmaids, of course," Hermione informed Daphne. "Hannah's asking Susan and Astoria. I expect you and Blaise will stand with Theo, and Ron and Dean will stand with Neville."

"Hermione!" said Theo, sharper this time.

"It was your idea, darling," she said, an evil grin on her face.

"Neville!" protested Theo. "Help me, please."

"Oh, I think it's brilliant," said Neville.

"One of your best ideas," agreed Hannah.

Theo was feeling increasingly desperate. "It wasn't—NEVILLE!"

"Did you call me a bridesmaid?" asked Potter from somewhere in the back.

"Am I walking Potter or Weasley down the aisle?" asked Blaise.

"Ron," answered Hermione, while Theo growled, "Neither."

"I should probably walk with Astoria," said Daphne thoughtfully, and Theo was tempted to murder every one of his friends.

"One flower girl or two?" Hannah asked Hermione.

"I think one's enough," said Hermione.

Hannah nodded. "I agree. Justin?"

Justin grinned. "Do I get a tiara?"

"Absolutely."

Theo was clearly not needed for the ensuing madness and attempted to slip away. To his chagrin, Hermione's hand remained firmly around his wrist. "Please let me leave," he pleaded.

Hermione's eyes flicked across the room and her conspiratorial grin slipped. "I think you need to talk to Malfoy," she whispered, and let him go.

She wasn't wrong. Draco was standing apart from the congratulatory crowd, finding solace at the bottom of his third glass of Firewhisky. Theo nodded for Draco and Goyle to follow him into the parlour.

"Are you insane?" asked Draco once they were out of earshot. "She's a Muggle-born! Your father is going to die of apoplexy when he hears."

"Good," said Theo flatly, and Draco flinched. "You knew there was something between me and Granger for years—"

"There's a difference between having a schoolyard crush and marrying the woman," said Draco. "You can't be serious about this. What about Daphne?"

"Daphne has her own Muggle-born," said Theo.

"And her parents will disown her before they let her marry Finch-Fletchley."

"She knows that." Theo pursed his lips as he watched Draco try to come to terms with the seismic shift in their world. "Hermione and I have already agreed to ask Daphne and Justin to live with us if that happens. I can't think of anything better to piss my father off than to have two Muggle-borns living in the manor."

"You're serious." Draco shook his head. "How can you even be considering this?"

"I have never given a damn about Hermione's blood status, or Dean's, or Justin's, or any of the other Muggle-borns at Hogwarts. I'll leave that shit to my father, thank you." Theo sighed. "Someday, you and I are going to have a very long conversation about Muggle-borns." Theo looked to Goyle. "Any concerns?"

Goyle looked surprised to even be asked. "She's a Gryffindor."

Theo grinned. "Through and through."

"Are you really having a double wedding with Longbottom?"

"If, for some godforsaken reason, I have a double wedding with Neville and Hannah, I will be hanging Neville by his toes for even making the joke in the first place."

"Oh," said Goyle. "So it was a joke?"

"It was supposed to be, but now it seems Hermione and Hannah are actually planning it."

"Oh."

Theo sighed again as roaring laughter could be heard through the door. "Any other concerns?" Draco drained his glass and Goyle shrugged. Theo gave them both a sharp nod. "Good. If you'll pardon me, I have to go figure out how to prevent this wedding."

Australia was having a pleasant winter when Theo and Hermione landed at the Ministry offices in Sydney. The world's most terrifying taxi service—two chatty witches in Muggle clothes—took them to Perth by way of Side-Along Apparition. They swore to never travel by Australian magical taxi again, and Theo wondered if it would be worth making an illegal Portkey to get to the airport.

Wendell and Monica Wilkins had a small dentistry practice set up in the suburb of Stratton, Western Australia. Determined to torture Theo at least a little bit, Hermione arranged a cleaning appointment for him. To his utter humiliation, Theo met his future father-in-law with his mouth pried open, unable to articulate actual words.

"You're an evil witch," hissed Theo when the hygienist left. Hermione had sat in the corner, making small talk with her father, clearly using Theo's discomfort as an anchor to keep herself from crying.

"Yet you love me."

"Merlin save me." Theo kissed Hermione firmly, and she pulled back, grimacing at the taste of the fluoride treatment. "Not pleasant, is it?" he asked with a smirk.

"You survived." She was incredibly pleased that he'd gone through with the entire appointment, uncomfortable x-rays and all.

Theo shook his head. "You owe me."

"I do," agreed Hermione, and pecked his cheek before leading him out of the office.

Through the magic of friendly conversation, Hermione managed to arrange a casual dinner with their dentists. After dessert, Theo Stunned them and Hermione got to work, removing the Memory Charms. At Theo's suggestion, she did a new, minor Memory Charm where she implanted the idea that they'd agreed to hide Australia for a couple of years while the Wizarding world sorted itself out. It felt dirty to manipulate her parents in such a way, and the initial suggestion had led to a serious row before Theo and Hermione left for Australia.

But when Hermione removed the initial Memory Charm, her parents looked at her like she'd betrayed them. She felt a bottomless canyon open between them, and she knew the only way to save the relationship was to use Theo's suggestion. It felt a bit like using the Imperius Curse, and Hermione was sick for a month afterward. The only relief she found was in being radically honest about all of the things she'd never told her parents about the Wizarding world, beginning and ending with Harry and Voldemort. She prayed that if the second Memory Charm ever failed, they would at least understand why she took such extreme action.

At the end of August, the 'Wilkinses' shuttered their practice and prepared for the move back to the UK. Theo took that opportunity to take Mr Granger out to dinner, while Mrs Granger gave Hermione a not-so-subtle lecture about not rushing into things like marriage and children. Hermione spent the next three days convincing her mother that she knew what she was doing.

Theo's payback for the dentist appointment came in the form of an incredibly expensive formal dinner in Diagon Alley, where he commanded the attention of the entire restaurant and got down on one knee in a ridiculously overdone proposal. It made the society pages of the Daily Prophet, which touted War Heroine Hermione Granger to be Blushing Bride. Harry stuck the photo on the cooling cabinet in the kitchen, Ginny enlarged it to take up the entire width, and Blaise, for some horrendous reason, charmed it to start reading the article aloud anytime someone stepped in the room. Ron set it on fire after three days.

The article was framed in her parents' living room, however, as Hermione's mother and Hannah poured over wedding details. Hermione herself took a job with Gringotts to stop Bill's persistent pestering, and Theo prepared Nott Manor to accommodate three new residents—which apparently involved a significant amount of curse-breaking.

Somehow, standing dinners at Shell Cottage became part of their routine as Theo and Bill struck up a real friendship. Naturally, Sunday brunches at the Burrow followed. Unfortunately for Theo, it took all of three weeks for Molly to decide he would be getting a jumper for Christmas. Hermione laughed herself silly when Molly asked him for colour preferences. He threatened to buy Hermione shoes to match her own Weasley jumper. She called him an honorary Weasley for six months and found a pair of awful pink boots under the Christmas tree.

Theo resigned himself to the fact he was having a double wedding around mid-October. By the time November 18th rolled around, he was almost looking forward to it. Thankfully, as Hannah and Mrs Granger had planned all of the details, all Theo had to do was show up and put on his tie.

When he walked up the aisle, he was puzzled that Neville was nowhere to be found. He dutifully stood on his mark and waited.

And waited.

And then the music started, and a stream of people came down the aisle. Justin in his promised tiara, Daphne and Weasley, Blaise and Girl Weasley … Neville and Potter?

Theo was suddenly worried he'd missed something crucial during the rehearsal.

Neville walked up next to Theo and patted him on the shoulder. "I hope you don't mind, but I demoted Blaise."

"But you and Hannah—" whispered Theo, but he was cut off by the sound of swelling strings. Hermione stood at the back in pale gold dress robes, a modest bouquet of wildflowers in her hands. She was not followed by Hannah. In fact, Theo saw Hannah sitting at the end of one row as Hermione passed.

He'd definitely missed something.

But then Hermione was in front of him, holding out her hands to clasp his, and the officiant was having them repeat words and vows and exchange simple gold rings, and streams of silver magic wrapped around their joined hands. He was given permission to kiss the bride, which he did until the crowd started booing.

"What happened to Neville and Hannah?" demanded Theo in the approximate thirty seconds between when they left the clearing and when everyone else would follow.

"What about Neville and Hannah?" asked Hermione innocently.

"The double wedding!"

"What double wedding?" Hermione gave Theo a brilliant grin and kissed his cheek. "I hope you don't mind that Neville was your best man."

"I—were you never planning a double wedding?"

Hermione shook her head. "Neville and Hannah want a long engagement."

"So all of that was a ruse?" Theo wasn't sure whether to be furious or relieved. He settled on both. Thankfully, both emotions could be expressed the same way, and he kissed Hermione soundly, quite determined to make her forget they were waiting for their guests to exit the clearing.

"SERIOUSLY?" came Weasley's reliable protest. "Merlin's pants, why do you always have to do this?"

"Because I can." said Theo, admiring Hermione's flushed cheeks. He eyed the pins in her hair and considered pulling them out, and then considered that Hermione would murder him for ruining a hairstyle that likely took hours. To prove his point to Weasley, Theo kissed Hermione again, though she managed to push him away this time.

"They're newlyweds, Ron," said Girl Weasley reproachfully. "Let them snog in the hallway."

"They already snog in the hallway," grumbled Weasley. "At least I've seen less of Nott than I've seen of Zabini."

"You could have knocked." Girl Weasley didn't sound remotely repentant.

"The door was open!"

"Ah, but there was a door."

"As fun as this is," said Theo, looking pointedly at Girl Weasley, "move." There were people stacked up twenty deep behind the Weasleys and Theo thought he saw Narcissa Malfoy standing with his Aunt Ava and tapping a fan impatiently in her hand.

By the time the reception started, Theo wished it had been a double wedding so Neville and Hannah could take some of the attention off him and Hermione. The Grangers had failed to mention how overwhelming weddings were.

He much preferred the next morning, alone with Hermione at the manor, surrounded by more gifts than they could count.

"Do you think Daphne would be offended if we transfigured this into something more practical?" asked Hermione, turning a crystal knickknack over in her hands that was so ugly, it must have been a joke.

"Yes," said Theo, reaching for a large square box. "I think we should leave it on the mantle in Daphne and Justin's room."

"Excellent idea," said Hermione, and she floated it over to a growing pile of things they were planning to subtly pawn off on the other couple.

Theo opened his box and took a sharp breath. "Oh."

He heard Hermione stand and walk across the mess to see inside. "Oh," she echoed, reaching for the clock. "It's beautiful."

The face of the clock was polished mahogany, but in place of numbers were Home, Work, Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts, The Burrow, Malfoy Manor, Granger House, Diagon Alley, St Mungo's, Elsewhere, Travelling, and the ever-important Mortal Peril. Hermione was inscribed in gold on a black hand, and Theodore was inscribed on another in silver.

Beneath the clock was a letter from Molly Weasley explaining the charm, how to change the locations, and how to add future hands. She included three additional hands, which made Theo chuckle when Hermione paled at the implication.

"We are not—three children—" spluttered Hermione, her eyes wide with panic.

Theo wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and nestled his head against her shoulder. "At least she didn't send seven." Hermione shuddered. Theo placed a kiss on Hermione's neck, then another, until Hermione's shudders had nothing to do with Molly Weasley. "What do you say we get in some practice?"

Hermione made a face, and Theo kissed her wrinkled nose before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She turned to fully face Theo and mumbled his new favourite word against his lips. "I suppose I can oblige my husband."

Hermione oscillated between bemused and wildly entertained when it came to the relationship of Harry and Ginny Potter and Blaise Zabini.

At first, Blaise had seemed like an add-on who sometimes appeared on the weekend with expensive liqueurs. By Theo and Hermione's first wedding anniversary, Blaise was a near-permanent fixture at Nott Manor when he wasn't at Grimmauld Place. After Ginny got on with the Harpies, Ginny, Harry, and Blaise split their days between Grimmauld, Holyhead, and Nott Manor. Theo offered to teach Blaise Welsh if he intended to spend two-thirds of his time in Wales.

Blaise sat with Theo during the Potter wedding while Hermione and Ron stood for Harry. When the conversation of children was broached, Blaise walked backwards into a wall with his hands raised, looking terrified.

When Ginny announced her first pregnancy, Harry, Blaise, Theo, and Justin had congratulatory drinks that quickly spiralled into the first three worrying they were all going to be terrible fathers while Justin cackled and did nothing to assuage their fears.

It all came to a head, however, when Blaise insisted the baby's name followed wizarding custom, and vetoed Harry's choice. Shouting matches between Blaise and Harry became inevitable whenever they were in a room together. Harry felt understandably betrayed when Ron sided with Blaise. Hermione and Justin chose Harry's side; Theo and Daphne stood with Ron and Blaise; and Ginny seemed to be staying out of it.

Hermione didn't particularly understand why Blaise had a say at all in naming Ginny and Harry's baby until one afternoon he shouted the words, "My son!" at Harry. Hermione nearly fainted at the idea of Blaise being the father—obviously, there was some level of risk with their arrangement, but she never thought—

But then Harry stopped shouting, shoulders slumped in defeat, and put a hand on Blaise's shoulder with a quiet, "Our son." And that's when Hermione realised she didn't understand this relationship at all.

She finally started to understand when the birth announcement of James Blaise Harry Zabini-Potter arrived at two in the morning. When she passed the note over to her husband, he sighed. "That's a terrible name. James Sirius Potter was so much better."

"You're the one who sided with Blaise!" said Hermione, betrayed by Theo's change of heart.

"When I thought they were just going to use Harry's name! How was I to know they'd name the poor child after both of his fathers?"

Hermione eyed the announcement sourly. "Do you think it's too late for them to change their minds?"

"James Harry Zabini-Potter?" asked Theo. "Or James Blaise Zabini-Potter?"

"James Harry, certainly," said Hermione, summoning a biro and writing a note on the back of the announcement before sending it off. She expected a Howler in the morning, but couldn't bring herself to care after just two hours of sleep.

Theo nestled against Hermione's side after they turned the lights out. "Aren't you glad my name is Theodore? It goes much better with everything," he said sleepily.

"William Theodore," responded Hermione into her pillow.

"Rose Hermione," mumbled Theo. "And whatever the hell we want after that."

"You're only getting two out of me," said Hermione, her edge blunted by sleep.

Theo kissed her neck in a way that promised to persuade her otherwise—later, at a more reasonable hour. For now, Hermione felt his arm snake around her waist as they fell back to sleep.

Hermione watched as Adaline tottered up the pavement to the Burrow. William and Theo waited at the door, and Lord knew where Rose was.

Hermione firmly kissed Theo when she reached him, much to William's distress.

"Merlin, Hermione, you just saw the bloke two minutes ago." It was apparently to Ron's distress, as well.

Theo covered William's eyes with one hand and wrapped the other arm around Hermione's waist, pulling her indecently close as he kissed her again. In the background, Ron protested loudly.

Finally, Hermione crossed the threshold of the Burrow. She greeted a flushed Ron. "The garden?" she asked, and he nodded. She took Theo and Adaline's hands and led them to the garden, where nearly a dozen children ran circles around Blaise. Justin sat under an umbrella, pretending to knight Bill and Fleur's daughters with his cane. Rose chased Harry, Ginny, and Blaise's youngest daughter while Neville's oldest son tried to explain gnome hedges to Dean and Seamus's twins.

Hermione often felt like they could start an entire Hogwarts of their own with the sheer number of children racing around the Burrow at any given moment.

"Regret not having any of your own?" Hermione had asked Daphne once. Daphne had laughed for two full minutes before informing Hermione that she did not, in fact, regret choosing to be Aunt Daphne rather than Mum.

A firework came whizzing out of the house, and Hermione jumped back on Theo's foot as it settled in front of her, hissing dangerously. "What on earth?" she asked, directing it high above the garden before any of the children got their hands on it. As it blew up into a pink Catherine Wheel, three more fireworks flew into a circle around Hermione.

"What is going on?" asked Theo, shooing these ones away as well. Two crossettes burst above Blaise, and he yelped. The children—Hermione had counted eighteen and suspected there were two more in the house—stopped to stare at the show against the clouds.

Fred and George came tumbling out of the house, looking puzzled. "Hermione, why are you blowing up our stock?" demanded Fred.

"We've half a mind to charge you double for stealing," said George.

"Is that half of one mind, or half of both minds, and thus a full mind?" asked Theo, determinedly not helping the situation. Fred levelled a dangerous glare at Theo, which accomplished nothing.

Another set of Whiz-Bangs flew into the garden, circling Hermione dangerously. Fred and George summoned them before they could go off, or so they thought. With an almighty bang, a sparkling dragon came roaring through the back door. Molly ran out of the house, swearing at the top of her lungs and chasing the dragon with a wooden spoon.

"BOYS!" she roared, nearly louder than the dragon.

"Oh shite," said George, exchanging a terrified look with Fred. Theo looked entirely too entertained.

"It was Hermione," said Fred.

"She's summoned an entire box of Whiz-Bangs," added George.

"You should really forbid wandless magic on the premises," said Fred, and Hermione huffed.

"I'm not doing anything!" she insisted to Molly. "They're coming to me!"

Molly's face turned from angry to suspicious. "You aren't pregnant, are you? Fred and George wreaked all manner of havoc on the house when I was pregnant with them."

Behind Hermione, Theo choked, and she felt about the same. "No," said Hermione firmly. "We're done after three."

"I think you should check."

Hermione took out her wand and waved it over her stomach to prove she was in fact, not pregnant.

The charm glowed a lovely shade of pink, and Theo swore loudly. Three children echoed, "Fucking hell!" as they ran beneath the still-dancing fireworks.

"But we—" protested Hermione, casting the charm a second time. It glowed brighter. "But we were so careful!"

"Must have been those tenth century fertility rituals we did," muttered Theo so only Hermione could hear, and she smacked his arm.

"Blimey, Hermione," said Ron, shaking his head. "You're going to end up like Mum."

"We are not," said Hermione. "We agreed to two." She glared back at her husband, who didn't look the least ashamed of their apparent compatibility.

"I'm Catholic," said Theo, as if that was in any way a legitimate explanation.

"He is not."

"So are you," said Justin, and it took Hermione a minute to realise he meant she was a Nott, rather than Catholic.

"You're all the worst."

Molly waved her spoon with a delighted grin. "Come inside, dear. It seems this one is going to be a troublemaker. I'll show you some charms that helped with the twins and Ginny."

Hermione was still getting used to the idea that she was pregnant—again—and so it took her a minute to follow. "This is insane," she said, casting the charm a third time.

Theo wrapped a possessive arm around her lower stomach. "I think it's brilliant."

"You would," she muttered. "We're done after this one, Theodore, I mean it."

"I still think we should try for a nice, round seven."

"Absolutely not."

He kissed her in the doorway to the kitchen. Hermione gave him a half-hearted push. "But the sex," he growled in her ear.

"But the rest of it," Hermione shot back.

Theo's hands rested on either side of her hips, his thumbs rubbing at the edge of her stomach. "I don't know. The part where you're growing my child is fairly—"

"Can you please stop looking like you're about to have sex in the middle of my house?" demanded Ron. "It's no wonder Hermione keeps getting pregnant. You're worse than when you were newlyweds."

"Hermione's pregnant?" squealed Ginny from the living room. She flew into the kitchen and looked from Ron to Hermione to Theo. "You're having another one? I keep trying to convince Harry and Blaise we need to have another boy—"

Ron slammed his hands over his ears. Molly came into the kitchen with a well-worn book that appeared to have once had the word Pregnancy on the spine. "Here you are, dear. Pages sixty to eighty-five. Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron were such easy babies, you know. The pregnancies flew by, but the fourth and sixth, I swear to Merlin, Arthur and I barely got through a day without some small catastrophe. Those were the longest months of my life."

"Oh good," said Hermione under her breath.

"Mummy's pregnant!" they could hear Rose shouting in the garden, assuring that everyone who hadn't heard would soon be well aware.

Blaise strode into the kitchen, one finger extended toward Ginny. "No," he said firmly. "The first three are enough trouble—"

"But don't you want another boy?" pleaded Ginny. "A little Julian Blaise Zabini-Potter?"

"Julian is a terrible name," said Blaise. "No son of mine—"

"Tiberius?" suggested Ginny, a devilish look in her eye. "Octavian?"

"Are you just naming Roman emperors now?" asked Blaise, his expression mildly amused.

"Caligula?" asked Ginny, and Hermione giggled at Blaise's look of disgust.

"Potter!" shouted Blaise. "Come talk some sense into your wife!"

Harry appeared in the doorway. "Oh, she's my wife today?"

"She's trying to name our son Caligula." In the background, Molly said something unflattering about Ginny's sense of humour.

Harry paled. "Our son?" he echoed. Theo snickered.

"Theoretical son," said Ginny, although she sounded put out about it. "Hermione's the one that's pregnant."

Harry blinked, before, "Again? Jesus. Addie's barely a year old!"

"I know!" wailed Hermione.

"I thought you were done!"

Hermione felt Theo laughing. "I'm just that good."

"GROSS," said Ron.

"Really, though, we found this book sixth year—oof." Hermione cut Theo off with a sharp elbow to the stomach.

"We did not do anything with that book," Hermione assured the gathered crowd, who had no idea what the book was. "Caligula Blaise is an awful name."

"Anything Blaise is an awful name," muttered Theo. "Ten Galleons says they have another girl."

"Wishful thinking?" asked Hermione.

"Ginny will pull a Molly just trying to get that second boy. I'm thinking it's going to be baby number seven."

"The world does not need that many Zabini-Potters."

Theo snorted. "It didn't need the original three."

[scribbled in a journal belonging to William Nott, September 1]
The Sorting Hat put me in Hufflepuff! Jamie told me I should turn around and go home, but I told him I always wanted to be a Hufflepuff. Better than a stupid Gryffindork.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott, September 1]
There is nothing wrong with Gryffindor, young man.
Congratulations on Hufflepuff. Are you getting along with your roommates?

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott, September 1]
There are a few things wrong with Gryffindors.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
Theodore!

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Congratulations, Will. Don't do anything your mother and I wouldn't do.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to William Nott]
I don't think we have any werewolves this year.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
I told you not to tell him that story!

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
I have no idea what you're talking about. Werewolves? I've never heard of such a thing.
Are you getting along with your roommates?

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
Make sure not to make a mess of the dorm. The house-elves have enough to do without cleaning up after you boys.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to William Nott]
Mum, if I tell my roommates to pick up their socks, they won't want to be my friends.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
That's not true.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Yes, it is. You don't have to tell your roommates to pick up their socks, Will.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to William Nott]
The prefects want to talk to us. I have to go. Love you!

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
I love you! Be nice to the prefects! Don't lose any points and do all of your homework! I don't want to hear about any detentions from Professor Longbottom.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Love you, too, Will.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott, September 1]
For Merlin's sake, Hermione. I've already sworn Neville to secrecy if William gets detention.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott, September 1]
You can't do that!

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
He'll do just fine keeping an eye on him.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
When are you going to be home?

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Should only be another hour. The Chosen One is trying to put the kids to bed, so Blaise, Girl Potter and I are supervising.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
You aren't helping?! Three of those children are YOURS, Theodore!

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
He tried to help, but Weasley bribed him with Firewhisky instead. - B

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
It wasn't a bribe, per se. It was a well-timed suggestion. - Gin

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
You're both terrible people. One of you needs to go help Harry. You know he can't put five kids to bed by himself.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Seven. Dean and Seamus dropped off the twins.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
THEODORE

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
You could always come help. Unless, of course, you're still elbows deep in manuscripts at Malfoy Manor and aren't actually home yet.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Your silence is telling, Hermione.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
Astoria and I only have three more books to catalogue for tonight.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
And then you'll come help the Chosen One wrangle the children?

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
No. And then I'll go home because I haven't spent the day eating canapés with Blaise. I got bitten by Draco's copy of the Monster's Book of Monsters because it was hiding behind the Magna Carta.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
She screamed at Draco for thirty minutes about irresponsibly losing a feral textbook and endangering priceless artefacts. I'll send her home soon, I promise. You really should be helping Harry, though. Poor man's already had to save the world. - Astoria xx

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
FINE. I helped the Chosen One put the kids to bed. I'm heading home.

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Love you! - Gin

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Don't keep him up too late, unless you're doing something interesting. I hear you bought him more ties. Use those. - B

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Please don't. We can't risk you having more kids. Rose and Addie were trying to teach Lily and Ruby wandless magic, and Gin, Zabini, and I can't handle that sort of chaos.
Love you, Hermione. - Harry

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
Sorry, Harry. I'll talk to the girls tomorrow. Love you x

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Theodore Nott]
Coming home soon?

[scribbled in a journal belonging to Hermione Nott]
Be right there.

Hermione crept into the bedroom a full hour later than she anticipated, having run across a ground-breaking Potions theory in the last manuscript she and Astoria reviewed for the evening. She quietly slipped into her nightdress and crawled into bed.

"Theo?"

"Hello, Granger."

Hermione jumped and nearly fell out of bed as Daphne cackled. The other woman threw back the covers and stood, brushing out the wrinkles in her own pyjamas. "That wasn't very nice!" snapped Hermione, trying to disentangle herself from the blankets.

"Theo told us Will made it into Hufflepuff, so he and Justin are celebrating in the drawing room." Daphne helped pry the sheet from under Hermione's hips, still giggling. "Come on."

The women found their husbands splitting a bottle of Muggle champagne. Theo had Justin's Hufflepuff scarf wrapped around his head for some unknowable reason, and Justin was in the process of charming everything in the drawing room yellow and black.

"This looks terrible," declared Daphne, reaching for a flute of champagne. "Theodore, I demand you fire your interior designer."

"Did she scream?" asked Theo. Daphne grinned, and the men started laughing. Hermione harrumphed, trying to hide her own unwilling amusement. She plucked Theo's flute of champagne from his hand and finished it off. With a snap of her fingers, the flute refilled itself, and she took a dainty sip.

"Show-off," Theo and Justin said together.

Daphne held her glass out to Hermione. "To William."

Hermione clinked her glass against Daphne's and then Justin's. "To our Hufflepuffs."

Theo stood and walked over to Hermione, attempting to steal his glass back. She danced out of the way with a laugh until he wrapped his arms around her middle and wrested it from her hand. "To me," he toasted.

"I don't know how to break this to you, love, but you're part of the Hufflepuffs," said Hermione, finally picking up her own flute.

Justin shook his head and raised his glass. "To Hermione and Theo, who defy the stereotype that old married couples are boring."

It took a considerable amount of restraint for Hermione not to throw her champagne at Justin. "We are not old!"

Daphne gave a teasing grimace. "I mean, your oldest child did just go off to Hogwarts."

"Theodore, I think Daphne and Justin have overstayed their welcome."

Theo smirked, pushing the tail of Justin's scarf out of his face. "I don't know. I've always had a thing for older women."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She downed the rest of her champagne before summoning the bottle and heading for the door. "You're all terrible people, and I am going to bed."

"It's barely eleven o'clock!" protested Daphne.

"Well, I'm old," said Hermione, with a glare at the room. "And make sure my drawing room is back to normal by tomorrow!"

"No promises!" called Justin.

Theo chased Hermione into the hallway, the Hufflepuff scarf flapping behind his head. He caught up to her and gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop. "You're not going to bed without me, are you?" he asked, guiding her back against one of the walls.

"I loathe you," said Hermione, already tilting her head up.

Theo kissed her softly, enjoying the taste of champagne on her lips. "I love you, too."

A/N: Literally the only reason I posted this is because I can't get past, "Did you call me a bridesmaid?" without dying. I did have to add in a little extra angst, just for my own sanity.

Thank you again to everyone who came on this journey with me. I've never had a story bring me as much joy as this one did.

Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference when Ginny is listing potential baby names.

I am working on another Theomione that was supposed to be a one-shot, but has predictably grown into something longer. For the record, I expected THIS to be 30k words.

Farewell for now!

akorah