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The Great Hall had never felt so peaceful.
For the first time in years, there was no war looming over anyone's head. No prophecies. No Dark Lords. No impossible choices waiting around every corner.
Just students. Family. Friends.
Just Hogwarts.
Harry Potter sat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, lazily working through an essay while half-listening to whatever ridiculous argument George and Fred were having across the hall.
"...and I'm telling you," George said, "a portable swamp in the Slytherin common room would improve morale."
"It would improve my morale," Fred corrected.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry smiled. Things were finally becoming good again. He had his friends and family close to him, the days of living in fear were over. He never had to fear losing his loved ones again.
Then suddenly, the temperature in the hall dropped. Every conversation stopped. Heads turned. Silver light appeared near the staff table. Professor McGonagall rose so quickly her chair nearly toppled. Harry was already on his feet.
Two figures slowly materialized.
A woman with bright green eyes. A man with messy black hair.
For a moment, nobody breathed.
"Lily?" whispered McGonagall.
Harry's heart stopped.
No. No, that wasn't possible. The woman looked directly at him. Tears filled her eyes.
"Harry."
His knees nearly gave out.
Beside him, Hermione and Ron froze.
The man smiled softly.
"Hello, son."
The entire hall exploded into chaos.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later after ushering everyone who wasn’t immediately family out, things calmed down enough to get an explanation. A much smaller group now sat inside the great hall..
Harry. Hermione. The Weasleys. Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Everyone who Harry considered family.
Harry couldn't stop staring at the ghosts of his parents. They looked exactly like the photographs.
Exactly.
Lily's gaze kept drifting toward Hermione. Again and again. As though she couldn't help herself.
Finally Sirius noticed.
"Lils," he said carefully, "why do you keep looking at Hermione like that?"
Silence filled the room.
James and Lily exchanged a glance.
Then Lily smiled sadly.
"Because she's our daughter."
Everything stopped.
Harry actually thought he'd misheard.
Hermione blinked, silent and shocked.
"What?" Sirius started, “Remus and I would remember if you had another kid.” He said, confusion coloring his voice.
James took a breath.
"Things had become so bad, we hid her from everyone and altered the memories of anyone who had seen her."
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Hermione stared at them. Then laughed. A short, nervous, slightly hysterical laugh.
"That's impossible."
"We know," Lily said gently. "But it's true darling."
Harry looked between them.
Hermione.
His parents.
Hermione.
His parents.
His brain refused to process it.
"What do you mean?" he finally demanded.
James looked pained.
"The night Voldemort attacked us didn’t happen the way history remembers."
Everyone leaned forward.
"We had two children."
Harry felt the room tilt.
"You were two years old," Lily told him.
"Hermione had just been born."
Hermione looked physically ill.
"That's impossible," she whispered.
James shook his head.
"No."
Then he raised a hand.
Silver light filled the office. A memory appeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry watched a younger version of his parents laughing in a cottage.
Baby Harry toddled across the floor. Lily sat in a chair holding an infant wrapped in blankets. A tiny baby with wild brown curls.
Hermione.
The entire room gasped.
The memory continued.
James knelt beside Lily.
"What should we tell Harry?"
Lily laughed.
"That she's his sister."
Tiny Harry waddled over. James picked him up.
"Harry."
Baby Harry giggled in response.
"This," James said, pointing toward the infant, "is your little sister."
The memory faded. Nobody spoke. Harry couldn't.
Because somehow— he already knew.
Deep inside. Looking at that memory felt like remembering something forgotten. Something stolen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James explained everything. How Voldemort had learned they had two children. How Lily had begged trusted allies to take Hermione away. How powerful protective magic had altered memories. How everyone involved had died or disappeared before the truth could be revealed. How Hermione’s magic got out of control early and everyone just believed she was already of Hogwarts age.
How Hermione had ended up with the Grangers.
Safe.
Hidden.
Alive.
Harry couldn't look away from her.
His sister.
His little sister.
His little sister had sat beside him for seven years and he'd never known.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shocked into complete silence, Hermione could do nothing but sit there and cry. Her whole world had just been turned upside down, everything she knew was a lie.
Just as she had begun spiriling, Lily– or well, her mum piped up again.
“She was safe from Voldermort, but she was failed by not receiving the love she dsereved growing up.” Waving another hand, they watched Hermione’s face pale before the flashes of memories displayed.
Hermione at two years old, getting shoved down the stairs.
At six, being told she wasn’t enough.
Being told she was fat at eight, nine, ten.
Hidden in a corner on platform 9 ¾, her father yanking her with a bruising grip, telling her she better be perfect and not say a word about what goes on.
Third year, when eleven year old Hermione sat alone, hidden by herself, dragging a knife across her skin. Drawing blood, giggling to herself in whispers, “I’m an artist and the canvas is my skin”
Summer before fourth year, cigarette burns littered along her arms inflicted from both her parents and herself.
Throwing up before the yule ball to lose weight, sobbing asking why she couldn’t be skinny like the other girls.
As the memories continued, Hermione watched as everyone she loved began to see the monster within. Crying harder by the minute, the very second the memories ended she attempted to get up and leave but was held in place by Fred and George. The twins who always tried to protect her, dragged her across their laps and hugged her like never before.
Harry was in shock from watching his litter sister hurt and wasn’t seeing her escape attempts.
The room remained silent. Hermione had buried her face in her hands.
"Hermione?" Harry whispered.
She didn't answer.
Lily looked at him.
"She didn’t know how else to cope."
Harry felt panic rise.
"What do you mean?"
Hermione visibly shrank.
"They're in the past," she whispered.
Nobody judged her. Nobody looked disgusted. The only expression Harry saw was heartbreak.
Because suddenly every moment made sense.
Every time Hermione pushed herself too hard. Every time she acted like resting was a crime. Every time she carried everyone's burdens alone.
Harry felt fury unlike anything he'd experienced during the war.
Because she'd gone through all of it alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry stood.
Crossed the room. Knelt beside the twins who held her. Hermione still wouldn't look at him.
Because shame had always been her first defense.
Her oldest companion.
"I didn't know," Harry whispered.
She laughed bitterly.
"Nobody did."
The words hurt more than any memory. Because she was right. Harry had watched her for years. Fought beside her. Laughed with her. Trusted her with his life.
And somehow never realized how much pain she carried.
He watched as everything became too much for her, watched her jump up from the twins laps and leave as quick as she could.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione leaving caused Harry to jump into action. Turning to his, no- their parents, he listened to their words of love and care before running off after his little sister.
Thanking Merlin that he still had the map, he watched as her name, her real name, appear in the astronomy tower. Running as fast as he could, he made it there in less than ten minutes.
Shoving the door open, he froze, seeing hermione sitting on the railing, looking far too comfortable at the idea of falling.
“Hermione?” He started, worry in his tone. “Please get away from the edge”
Sighing, she turned and came closer to him, “I’m not going to jump Harry, I haven’t wanted to since the war finally ended and Hogwarts was rebuilt.”
Turning to hug him solemnly, “It’s okay” she whispered.
“No it’s not love, the fact that you wanted to jump at all in your life is horrible.”
Harry tightened his arms around her. For a moment neither of them spoke. The wind whistled around the Astronomy Tower, carrying away the noise of the castle below.
Hermione pulled back first.
Her eyes were red.
"So," she said weakly, attempting a smile, "this is awkward."
Harry stared at her.
"You find out you're my sister and that's your first response?"
"What else am I supposed to say?"
"I don't know!"
They both laughed. The sound was shaky and uneven, but it was laughter. For the first time since the revelations, the tension eased. A little. Only a little.
Harry sat on one of the stone benches. After a moment, Hermione joined him. Neither looked at the other.
Finally Harry spoke.
"Did you ever know?"
Hermione shook her head.
"No."
"Not even a suspicion?"
"No."
Her voice was quiet.
"I always felt...different, I suppose."
Harry frowned.
"Different how?"
Hermione stared out over the grounds.
"Like everyone else knew where they belonged."
She shrugged.
"And I never did."
Harry's chest hurt. Because he'd felt exactly the same way growing up. Living with the Dursleys. Always feeling like he didn't fit. Always feeling unwanted. And somehow his little sister had felt the same thing.
All those years. Without either of them knowing.
"I wish I'd known."
Hermione laughed softly.
"You would have been insufferable."
Harry looked offended.
"I am not insufferable."
"You absolutely are."
"I am a delight."
Hermione actually smiled.
"There he is."
"What?"
"My brother."
The words hit Harry harder than any curse.
My brother. Not Harry. Not friend. My brother.
Something warm settled in his chest. Something he'd never had before. A sibling. A real sibling. And somehow it was Hermione.
The brightest witch he'd ever known.
The girl who constantly corrected his essays. The girl who yelled at him for doing reckless things. His sister. It felt right. Strangely but certainly right.
"I don't really know how to do this," Harry admitted.
Hermione blinked.
"Do what?"
"Be someone's older brother."
She looked surprised.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck.
"I've never had practice."
For a second Hermione simply stared. Then her expression softened. Neither of them had.
Harry had grown up alone. Hermione had grown up believing she was alone. Now suddenly they weren't.
"We'll figure it out," she said quietly.
Together.
The unspoken word hung between them.
Harry nodded.
Together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The beginning of Eighth Year was chaos. The entire school learned the truth within three days.
Nobody could figure out how Harry and Hermione being siblings suddenly made so much sense. Especially when they started arguing.
Because now every disagreement sounded exactly like a sibling argument.
"You're impossible."
"You've said that before."
"Because it's true."
"You're dramatic."
"I'm dramatic?"
Ron watched them from across the common room.
Then turned to Ginny.
"They're definitely related."
Ginny nodded.
"Terrifyingly related."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry's protectiveness began immediately. Hermione discovered this on the first morning of classes. She arrived at breakfast. Harry slid a plate of food in front of her.
"Eat."
Hermione stared.
"I can get my own breakfast."
"I know."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Because you're my sister."
Ron nearly inhaled his pumpkin juice.
Hermione closed her eyes.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Harry."
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Stop."
"No."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The real disaster began when Harry discovered how often Hermione skipped meals while studying.
"You did what?"
Hermione winced.
"It was one lunch."
"It was three."
"It wasn't three."
"It was three."
"Oh Merlin! It was only two."
Harry pointed triumphantly.
"Aha!"
Hermione groaned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Weasleys found the entire thing hilarious.
Especially Fred and George.
"Look at him."
George wiped away imaginary tears.
"He's nesting."
"I'm not nesting."
"He's nesting."
"Fred."
"Yes, Harry?"
"Please stop talking."
"Never."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
But beneath all the teasing was something genuine. For the first time in years, Hermione wasn't carrying everything alone.
If she stayed up too late, someone noticed. If she looked exhausted, someone checked on her. If she seemed overwhelmed, she had people willing to help. Not because they needed something from her. Not because they expected perfection.
Simply because they loved her.
At first Hermione didn't know what to do with that.
The kindness felt strange. Unfamiliar. Like wearing someone else's clothes. But little by little, she began accepting it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One evening she found Harry in the common room. He was asleep over a pile of homework. His glasses had fallen sideways. An unfinished essay sat beneath his cheek.
Hermione smiled.
Then carefully draped a blanket over his shoulders.
Harry stirred, half awake.
"Mione?"
"Hm?"
A sleepy smile appeared on his face.
"Night, little sister."
Hermione froze. For years she had wanted somewhere to belong. Someone to belong with. A family. Now she had one.
She brushed a hand through Harry's messy hair.
"Night, big brother."
And for the first time in a very long time, the future didn't seem nearly as frightening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once quidditch started up, Harry’s new nesting habits loosened up. She began to have more free time to be alone in the library. She still saw her brother every day, but she also had peace she didn’t originally have.
It was on one of these rare afternoons of peace that Hermione found herself completely absorbed in a particularly fascinating Arithmancy text.
The library was nearly empty. Sunlight filtered through the high windows. For once, nobody was bothering her. It was wonderful. Until a shadow fell across her book.
Hermione frowned.
She ignored it.
The shadow remained.
She turned a page.
Still there.
Slowly, she looked up.
And immediately regretted it. Theo Nott sat across from her.
Smirking.
"Oh no."
Theo looked offended.
"Oh no?"
"You."
"Me."
"Why are you here?"
Theo leaned back in his chair.
"I heard the library was suffering from a severe lack of intelligent conversation."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Then why did you come?"
Theo clutched his chest dramatically.
"That was cruel."
"You'll survive."
"Perhaps."
His smile widened.
"But only because you're here."
Hermione immediately looked back at her book. Ignoring the strange warmth that tried to appear in her cheeks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unfortunately for Hermione, Theo seemed to decide they were friends.
Nobody asked for her opinion. Least of all Theo.
She would arrive at breakfast. Theo was there.
She would go to study. Theo appeared.
She would walk through the corridors. Theo somehow materialized beside her.
"You are incredibly annoying."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
Theo smiled.
"I choose to believe it was."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks passed. And somehow Hermione realized she had started looking for him.
Looking for light brown hair in crowded corridors. Looking for the familiar smirk. Looking for someone who somehow always knew exactly what to say.
It was deeply inconvenient.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One evening she arrived at the library looking particularly irritated. Theo immediately noticed.
"Who am I hexing?"
Hermione looked up.
"What?"
"Someone upset you."
"No they didn't."
"Hermione."
She sighed.
"My brother."
Theo laughed.
"Which one?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"Your brother?” Theo started counting on his fingers.
"The famous Harry Potter. Ronald Weasley. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Technically half of Gryffindor."
Hermione reluctantly smiled.
"Harry."
"Ah."
Theo nodded wisely.
"The overprotective one."
"He followed me to Ancient Runes."
Theo nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
"He what?"
"He said he was 'just passing through.'"
"The Ancient Runes classroom is on the seventh floor."
"I know."
Theo laughed even harder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That became their thing.
Hermione would complain. Theo would listen.
Theo would complain. Hermione would listen.
Neither realized how important the other had become.
Not at first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The realization hit Hermione during Christmas break. She was sitting in Grimmauld Place. Surrounded by family. Harry was arguing with Sirius. Ginny was threatening George with a spoon. Remus was trying not to laugh.
It was chaos.
Wonderful chaos.
And Hermione suddenly found herself wondering what Theo was doing. Whether he was enjoying his holiday. Whether he was reading the book she'd recommended. Whether he missed her.
The thought nearly made her drop her tea.
"Oh."
Ginny immediately narrowed her eyes.
"Oh?"
Hermione looked horrified and Ginny grinned like a canary, immediately knowing what this was about. After discovering Hermione’s real age, the two girls became much closer and were like sisters due to only being a few months apart.
"Oh."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Returning to Hogwarts after the holidays was even worse.
Because now Hermione knew. And once she knew, she couldn't unknow it.
Every smile. Every laugh. Every casual touch. Every shared conversation.
It all meant something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first person to figure it out was Theodore. Because of course it was. He was observant when he wanted to be.
And Hermione Granger had never been good at hiding things from him.
"You like me."
Hermione choked on her tea.
"What?"
Theo looked entirely too pleased.
"You like me."
"No."
"You absolutely do."
"I do not."
Theo leaned forward.
"Hermione."
She glared.
Theo smiled.
"Hermione."
She glared harder. His smile widened.
And that was how she knew she was doomed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The actual beginning of their relationship was surprisingly simple. No grand declaration. No dramatic moment. No fireworks.
Just the library as usual.
Theo looked up from his book.
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Hermione stared. Blinking.
Several times.
Then—
"That was your plan?"
Theo looked confused.
"What?"
"That's how you ask?"
"It seemed efficient."
Hermione laughed. A genuine laugh.
Theo immediately looked distracted. He always did when she laughed.
"Was that a yes?"
Hermione smiled.
"Yes, Theo."
His answering smile was bright enough to rival sunlight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only problem?
Harry.
Because absolutely nobody wanted to tell Harry Potter that Hermione Potter's first boyfriend without all the danger of war was Theodore Nott.
Especially Theodore Nott.
So they kept it secret. For a while. At least until someone inevitably caught them.
And considering they attended Hogwarts with Fred and George Weasley...
That day was coming far sooner than either of them realized.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theo and Hermione had been dating for almost two months when they decided to take their relationship past kissing and touching.
The dim light of the room cast soft shadows across the walls as Theo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, exuding a quiet confidence that ignited the air between them. Hermione stood a few paces away, her breath hitching with anticipation, eyes locked onto Theo’s with a mix of desire and uncertainty.
"Come here pretty girl" he commanded, his voice low and firm. The single word was a drawbridge lowered, inviting yet authoritative. Hermione's heart raced as she took a hesitant step forward, feeling a magnetic pull that left them breathless.
Ther uncrossed his arms, taking a step closer. The way he moved was fluid, purposeful as they closed the distance. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that wrapped around them like a protective shield. When he reached out, his fingers brushed against her jaw, tilting her chin up slightly, forcing their gaze to meet.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a promise. Hermione nodded, eyes wide and trusting, and that trust only deepened the hunger in Theo’s gaze.
"Good," he said, his lips curling into a compelling smile. Without another word, he pressed forward, capturing Hermione's lips in a heated kiss, one that spoke of dominance and need. The kiss deepened, a dance of tongues that ignited a fiery connection, pressing her back against the wall.
“Stay still,” Theo commanded softly, pulling away just enough to lock eyes. Hermione’s pulse raced; there was an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his will. She nodded again, breathless and eager to obey.
Theo then took a step back, assessing the scene before them like an artist contemplating a blank canvas. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, their eyes dark with desire. Then, his hands found her waist, fingers digging in slightly to possessively hold them in place.
With deliberate slowness, he began to explore, fingers grazing along Hermione’s sides, trailing up to her arms before returning to her waist. Each touch was deliberate, designed to elicit shivers of pleasure. Theo leaned in closer, their breath warm against her ear. “Tell me what you want,” he urged, his tone a perfect blend of authority and allure.
Struggled to articulate as a tidal wave of sensation washing over her, she gasped breathless.
But the way his body moved, his mere presence, demanded an answer. "I want you," She whispered, the words slipping out in a breathy confession.
“Good girl,” Theo replied, and in that moment, he tilted her head back, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made her heart race.
Then, as though he were a predator and she was his willing prey, Theo’s hands roamed lower, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, caressing skin that felt electrified under his touch.
With a strong yet gentle tug, Theo pulled her closer, and together they fell into the rhythm of a deeper intimacy. Theo trailed open mouthed kisses from her lips down to her neck, each kiss a claim, each flick of tongue a mark of possession. She let out a soft moan, feeling the urgency build between them, a heat that was magnetic and consuming.
As his hands found the small of Hermione's back, he pushed gently, guiding her to a bed that seemed to beckon them both. He leaned on top of her, held her hands down, igniting her desires. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured against her mouth, a promise to be gentle.
Hermione surrendered fully, heart racing, eyes fluttering shut as she melted into the sensations that he elicited. Each kiss, each stroke, stirred a fire that burned bright, pleasure mingling with the thrill of surrender.
The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them—a tangled mess of limbs, soft gasps, and whispered promises. And in this sacred space, where love met devotion, they ventured deeper into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that night their relationship changed for the better. Hermione became more confident, more assured that she was loved. She stopped her unhealthy coping mechanisms and enjoyed her life.
Harry didn’t know what brought upon this change, but he was glad his little sister seemed to be getting better.
After a quidditch practice, Harry went to dinner looking for his sister, but upon arriving Ginny told him she already ate and as probably in her room.
She was in her room, but unfortunately she wasn’t alone. Theo had Hermione pinned against a wall, legs wrapped around him, thrusting in a hard, delicious rhythm. Hermione was so lost in pleasure that she didn’t hear her door open, didn’t register her brother until his screams reached her ears.
“HERMIONE POTTER WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Harry screamed, taking in the picture infront of him.
Theodore Nott, standing in front of his baby sister, fucking her with her legs wrapped around him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry Potter had faced dragons. He had faced Death Eaters, faced Voldemort. Yet none of those experiences had prepared him for discovering Theodore Nott and Hermione Potter were dating.
The castle shook with the force of his yelling.
"HERMIONE POTTER!"
Hermione winced. Theo looked like he was debating whether jumping out the nearest window would be a viable escape plan. It probably wasn't.
Harry pointed dramatically.
"How long?"
Hermione immediately knew what he meant.
"No."
"How long?"
"Harry."
"HOW LONG?"
Theo quietly raised a hand.
"About four months."
Harry looked ready to faint.
"FOUR MONTHS?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The lecture lasted three hours. Three entire hours.
Hermione spent most of it with her head buried in her hands. Theo spent most of it trying not to laugh. That was a mistake.
A terrible mistake.
Because the second Harry noticed—
"Oh, you think this is funny?"
Theo immediately straightened.
"No."
"Good."
"It is a little funny."
"Theo.” Hermione hissed.
"Sorry."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The worst part was that Harry wasn't actually angry at Hermione. He was terrified. The discovery of her being his sister had changed everything.
For sixteen years he hadn't known she existed. Now he knew. And suddenly every protective instinct he possessed had multiplied by a hundred. Maybe a thousand.
"You're my little sister."
Hermione groaned.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The speech."
"It's not a speech."
"It's definitely a speech."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unfortunately for everyone involved, Harry then decided Theo required a separate conversation.
Alone.
Theo knew this was coming. The entire school knew this was coming. Even McGonagall seemed aware of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theo arrived at the empty classroom at exactly seven o'clock.
Harry was already waiting. Arms crossed. Expression serious.
The atmosphere felt like a criminal trial.
Theo sat down. Harry continued staring.
Theo waited. Harry continued staring.
Finally Theo sighed.
"Are you going to threaten me?"
"Yes."
"Excellent."
Harry pointed a finger at him.
"If you hurt her—"
"I know."
Harry blinked.
"What?"
Theo looked completely serious.
"If I hurt her, you will hunt me down."
"Correct."
"You'll probably get Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, Sirius, and half the castle involved."
"Also correct."
Theo nodded.
"Reasonable."
Harry's prepared speech completely derailed.
For a long moment neither spoke. Then Theo's expression softened.
And for the first time, Harry saw how genuine everything was.
"I care about her."
Harry stayed silent.
"I know what she's been through."
Still silent.
"And I'm not trying to take her away from you."
Theo looked him directly in the eye.
"I'm trying to be someone who stays."
Something in Harry's chest shifted.
Because Theo wasn't joking. Wasn't flirting. Wasn't being sarcastic. He meant every word.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next few months were an absolute disaster.
Harry remained overprotective, Hermione remained annoyed, Theo remained impossible.
Nothing changed. And somehow everything changed.
One evening Hermione found Harry waiting for her in the common room.
"You've been staring at me for five minutes."
Harry blinked.
"No I haven't."
"You absolutely have."
He sighed dramatically.
"I just..."
Hermione waited.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck.
"I missed sixteen years."
The irritation immediately vanished from her face.
"Oh."
"I know I'm ridiculous."
"You are."
"I know."
Harry looked down. Then quietly added, "I just don't want to miss any more."
Hermione's eyes filled with tears.
For all his overprotectiveness. For all his lectures. For all his ridiculous behavior.
It was never really about Theo.It was never about dating.
It was fear.
Fear of losing someone he'd only just found.
Without warning, Hermione wrapped her arms around him.
Harry froze. Then hugged her back.
"I'm not going anywhere, Harry."
His grip tightened.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Years later, Hermione would stand beside Theo during their wedding.
Harry would stand beside her.
Still protective. Still dramatic. Still suspicious of Theodore Nott despite overwhelming evidence that he was a decent human being.
When the ceremony ended, Harry pulled Theo aside one last time.
Theo groaned.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"We've been together for years."
"I know."
"We're literally married now."
"I know."
Theo stared. Harry stared back.
Finally Harry smiled. A real smile.
The kind that rarely appeared.
"Take care of my sister."
Theo's answering smile was just as genuine.
"Always."
For a moment Harry simply nodded. Then he pulled Theo into a quick hug. Theo looked shocked. Hermione looked shocked. Half the wedding looked shocked.
Fred immediately demanded photographs.
George started taking bets on whether Harry had been replaced by a look-alike.
But Harry ignored them.
Because his sister was happy. Truly happy.
And after everything life had taken from both of them, that was enough.
More than enough. It was everything.