Much Ado at Nott's

Day 1

Hermione tried a red ribbon, then a green ribbon in her hair as she prepared to leave for the annual week-long summer getaway at Theo Nott's country house.

All young Hogwarts alumni living in London saw each other in passing, scattered among jobs at the Ministry, in the private sector, and even in extracurriculars like wizarding trivia and Muggle interest groups (pottery, football). As they made their way through their twenties it was Theo, prince that he was, who made sure everyone reunited at least once a year for one big bash.

Hermione, whose adult life as a researcher into magical maladies rivaled her Hogwarts life for rigor, had tried her best - at first - to be a "normal" young woman. She had rappelled down walls, created pathetic ceramics, and briefly dated a few young men who bored her out of her skull. All of it made her miss the library. After awhile, she stopped trying to find a partner and actively proclaimed her disinterest in settling down, though her friends crowed that they'd set her up yet.

The chief source of entertainment in her life was the occasional verbal scrimmage with Draco Malfoy. As he was an Auror with an irregular but equally demanding schedule, she only saw him at the rare pub night or dinner out with the group. She always hoped she would see him, because he had no fear of her (rare in a man), and his mind kept her captivated: rarer. The minute they saw each other, their wits matched, throwing off showers of sparks like dueling spells, and the rest of the company would just watch and cheer.

Or at least they had cheered. She'd seen little of Malfoy in the past year, but that was the kind of job he had. Auror missions, often classified, took him all over the country and sometimes the world. A far cry from what she'd have expected 15 years before, when he was hauling Dumbledore's Army in front of Umbridge. But then, people changed in interesting ways.

What hadn't changed was the intensity in his eyes when he looked at her - much more over the past year.

She stepped out of the Floo at Theo's to a big kiss on one cheek from Theo and another from Harry. A year or two back, Theo's wit and heart had captured Harry's, and they'd moved in together not long after. Harry looked well - the deep reserve and stubborn self-reliance rooted in him from childhood was showing cracks under the battering force of Theo's love. The boys kissed her again and dragged her to the lawn where food and drinks were set up.

Others were starting to Floo into the house, drop their luggage in their rooms and freshen up. "Draco will be late," said Theo to Harry, as they tore mint for the drinks. "He'll be in his usual south wing room next to the conservatory. Next to yours, love," he said to Hermione.

Hermione threw back her drink. "Remind me why his highness is late?" she said lightly. "How many dark wizards has he dragged back to Azkaban by their hoods this month? I can barely fold up the Prophet for Crookshanks' litterbox without reading about another capture."

The success of the Aurors was bittersweet to her. She was glad they were so effective at their jobs. But the sheer number of missions they were sent out on showed that stability was never a given.

"You're too hard on him, Hermione," said Theo, smiling and pouring his own drink.

"He's fantastic at his job," added Harry, who also worked in the Auror office but had recently requested a desk reassignment because he wanted to spend more time with Theo. "Remarkable at both the duelling and the detective work. Most of the recent cases wouldn't have succeeded without his hand in them. The fellow is driven."

"So driven," said Theo solemnly, "I hear that maidenly beds across Britain are going unwarmed."

She choked on her drink. "Oh? And when he's not Stunning Death Eaters and reducing lonely women to mauling their mattresses?" she said, twinkling. "What is he?"