Shy One

Shy one, shy one,

With her I would fly.

- W. B. Yeats, To an Isle in the Water

***

With sleep-heavy lids, Hermione Granger – soon to be Nott – peered at her alarm clock. She was exhausted; she'd stayed up well into the night debating her future with her mother. Although, at first, her parents had accepted her decision to abide by the Marriage Act,, the sudden betrothal of their only child to a man they'd never even met had brought the reality of the situation swiftly home to them.

In an effort to be supportive of her decision, her father had ordered a take-away and had opened a bottle of champagne, and they'd chatted quite merrily through their meal. It wasn't until the arrival of a Ministry of Magic owl that her parents had begun to voice their doubts. The owl had come with papers for her perusal – official records of Theodore's wealth and predicted yearly income.

The result had been a barrage of questions about Theodore and his family that Hermione, at this incipient stage in their relationship, had found she was unable to answer. Her mother and father, rather than finding Theodore's wealth heartening, had been thoroughly alarmed. Even his degree from Cambridge hadn't appeased them, and her father had tactfully retired to bed early, leaving mother and daughter to have a lengthy heart-to-heart. She had eventually promised to leave as long a gap as was legally possible between her engagement and her wedding, and to invite Theo for dinner at the weekend.

She was so besotted by the image in her head of her and Theo as a couple that her parents' worries annoyed her. Their mollycoddling reminded her, in a sense, of Molly Weasley. She could only hope that on meeting Theo they'd calm down.

Still, this morning, despite her fatigue, she couldn't help but grin. She was excited at the prospect of learning all about her prospective in-laws. With the exception of Severus Snape, that was.

She got up and rifled through her wardrobe, trying to imagine what Theo might like. He always dressed plainly, so she chose her favourite pair of jeans and a flowing, grey silk t-shirt she'd bought in Paris. She wondered where they would eat that afternoon. Would her plain clothes suit? Quite suddenly, the idea of an entire afternoon alone with her fiancé seemed daunting. Putting her hand on her nervous stomach, she looked at her reflection in the bedroom mirror, then she picked up her mascara and set to work on her appearance; she'd no wish to disappoint her soon-to-be spouse.

***

When Hermione arrived at Belgrave House, Theo was pacing the floor of the common room.

"Hi. Good morning," he said shyly.

"Good morning," she replied. He was also dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt. The sight made her laugh. "We sort of match."

He smiled. "Maybe it's a good omen?"

"Maybe it is," she agreed. A slightly awkward pause ensued.

"Have you had breakfast?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't feel hungry. I was just going to have a cup of tea. Would you like one?"

"Look," he muttered, "I haven't eaten either. Why don't we just get out of here?"

She frowned. "Now? But we have Domestic Magic class at ten."

Theo rolled his eyes. "It's such a waste of time – let's just leave for the say," he said, walking towards the door.

Hermione stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. She'd never, in her whole life, willingly skipped a class. She agreed that Domestic Magic was utterly pointless, but what if this was the very week they learned something useful? "But what if we miss something important?" she pleaded.

"I've only been to one of the Domestic Magic classes, and it was a complete joke. Don't you think it's more important that we get to know one another?" he asked.

He was right, she decided: it was much more important that they get to know one another than learn how to magically unblock a drain. She smiled at him and joined him at the door. "You're right. Let's go!"

He rewarded her with a broad smile, and she knew she'd done the right thing. She had never heard him speak so much, and with such little embarrassment.

The sky was overcast, but the breeze was warm. They strolled along Chapel Street in amiable silence for a few minutes until they came to the outskirts of Buckingham Palace Gardens. Theodore glanced up and down the quiet road and then turned to Hermione.

"There's a safe Apparition point in the grounds of Westminster Abbey. Will you come with me?"

"Okay," she replied, intrigued.

After pausing to allow an approaching car to pass by, they turned on the spot and reappeared in the shadows of the north wall of the abbey. Hermione smiled as she took in the familiar sight of the London landmarks. The Houses of Parliament lay to their right, and across the Thames loomed the London Eye.

Theodore turned his attention to the abbey behind him. "A lot of my ancestors are interred in Westminster Abbey," he said.

She raised an eyebrow; not just anybody was interred in Westminster Abbey. They both jumped as Big Ben suddenly announced ten o'clock. Theo turned to her with a smile. "I know the perfect place for breakfast," he said, gesturing towards the Thames.

She followed him, marvelling at the way he was completely at ease in Muggle London; Ron would have panicked at the prospect of crossing the road. But Theo looked more relaxed among the camera-toting tourists than he was in the company of fellow wizards. When they reached Westminster Bridge, she saw where he was headed: the small hut serving crêpes at the corner of the bridge.

"If you spent four years in Paris, you must like crêpes?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "Yes! They were a staple of my diet."

They hurried across the busy street and joined the short queue at the hut, both of them gazing back towards the Houses of Parliament. "It's strange to think that all kinds of important things might be going on in there, right now," Hermione mused.

Theo shrugged. "Well, not right now. Parliament is in Summer Recess, and Tony Blair's in Canada."

She gaped at him. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that the vast majority of pure-bloods and half-bloods don't even know who Tony Blair is."

He chuckled. "I've lived in London all my life – I know a thing or two about Westminster. My mother's great, great-uncle was a member of parliament."

"Was he a Muggle?" she asked, fascinated.

"No. He was a wizard, but nobody in government knew. He was quite famous, actually: John Stuart Mill."

Hermione's eyes widened. "John Stuart Mill? You're joking! The famous philosopher?"

"The very one," he said with a smile. "He had great notions about how Muggle Britain should be managed, so he got all political. It didn't go down very well with the Ministry of Magic; in fact, we're almost certain that the Minister for Magic had him assassinated in 1873, but we've never been able to prove it."

She remembered having seen a plaque dedicated to John Stuart Mill. "Didn't he live in Kensington Square?" she asked. "And don't you live there, too?"

He nodded. "I do, but he lived in number eighteen – there's a plaque beside the door. Severus and my mother, Cordelia, live there now."

Hermione's stomach lurched. "Snape lives in Kensington Square, too?"

Theo gave her an apologetic look. "They live across the square from me. I don't see them very often, though, don't worry."

They paid for their breakfast and ate as they strolled along Victoria Embankment. Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye as they walked. She was captivated by the change in his personality since they'd left Belgrave Square. Even Padma wasn't completely comfortable in Muggle society, not as comfortable as Theo. It boded well for his upcoming visit to her parents' house. As if he'd read her mind, he turned to her.

"How did your parents react?" he asked. "I'd imagine it's difficult for them to understand the situation, being Muggles."

She shrugged. "They're a little worried. I'm an only child, so it's a natural reaction, I suppose. What did your mum think?"

"She was pleased. I'm an only child, too, but she's read a few articles about you, so she knows you're clever."

Hermione blushed, hoping his mother had never read Rita Skeeter's comments in the Daily Prophet during the Triwizard Tournament. "My parents would like you to come to tea on Saturday," she said apologetically.

He smirked. "My mum's invited you to dinner on Friday, so you get interrogated first."

She chuckled. This was turning out to be one hell of a week.

They strolled through London for almost two hours, chatting easily about family, friends and their years at university. Although much of his shyness had disappeared, she noticed that Theo would sometimes remain completely silent for minutes on end. He didn't seem bothered, but it made her uncomfortable. She wrestled with the urge to fill the silences, and the simultaneous fear of babbling too much.

And not once did he mention his father or his father's family. She wanted to acknowledge it somehow, but was afraid to broach the subject in case she offended him. In an effort to forget about it, she concentrated instead on committing every detail of their first real date to memory.

The time passed quickly, and soon they were hungry once again.

"Where would you like to eat?" Theo asked.

"I've no idea," she replied. "You seem to know London even better than I do, so you choose."

He looked around; they were in Oxford Street. "How about the Ivy?" he asked.

She laughed. "We'll never get a table in the Ivy. It's lunchtime – and you have to book weeks in advance."

He smiled. "Not if your family has their own private table there."

She raised her eyebrows. "Your family has a private table at the Ivy? A famous Muggle restaurant? I can't believe you're pure-bloods!"

He grinned. "It's a little unorthodox, I suppose. We have a table at Pierre's in Diagon Alley, too. We like to keep one foot in both worlds."

They walked in the direction of the upmarket restaurant until Theo stopped to look in the window of a jewellery store.

"Would you like an engagement ring?" he asked, turning to her.

Hermione blushed and shook her head. "No. I know they're not traditional in wizarding society. I'd like for us to have nice wedding bands, though," she added. "I know they're central to the ceremony."

"A lot of the girls in our group have engagement rings," he said, returning his scrutiny to the jewellery.

"Honestly, Theo. I don't need for one."

He pressed his finger to the glass. "What about that one there?"

She followed the direction of his gaze. It was a solitaire ring with a large diamond set in platinum. "Theo," she said, shaking her head, "that ring costs twelve thousand pounds. I worked in a café in Paris, and that's more than my entire year's salary!"

He frowned. "Is that a lot? I'm not overly familiar with Muggle currency. I have a funny plastic card that always gets me what I want. Mum's accountant takes care of it" He looked at the ring again. "Don't you think it's beautiful?"

"Yes, it is beautiful – but it isn't edible, and right now all I can think about is my stomach!"

When they reached the restaurant, Hermione could hardly believe the familiar way in which Theo was greeted by many of the staff. They were ushered immediately to their table and had ordered lunch within minutes. The Mill family were evidently important people in the Muggle and wizarding worlds alike.

Theo seemed to be in a pensive mood during their meal, and Hermione did most of the talking. She didn't really mind; she was enjoying the plush surroundings, and Theo seemed interested in tales of her Muggle upbringing. They shared a bottle of red wine, and the conversation soon turned to the European cities they'd visited. They found that there were many countries they both wanted to explore: Japan, New Zealand and South Africa. When Hermione finally glanced at her watch, she could hardly believe it was almost six o'clock.

"You have plans?" Theo asked.

She gave him an apologetic look. "I arranged to meet Harry and Ginny for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I'd thought ... well ..."

"That we'd get along so well?"

She grinned. "Yes."

He smiled. "Severus thinks we aren't suited at all."

She was surprised he'd raised the subject. "Well, we'll just have to prove him wrong, then."

Theo added the bill to his family's tab, and they left. The clouds had cleared, and the evening sunshine was glorious. He offered to walk her to the Leaky Cauldron, and she accepted gratefully. Reassured by the conversations they'd, and emboldened by the wine, Hermione slipped her hand into his. He laced his fingers through hers and gave her a shy smile from beneath his brown, wavy hair. She sighed happily; things were going better than she'd dared to hope.

***

When Hermione entered the pub, she found Ginny and Harry at their favourite table in the corner. She smiled as she approached; they'd been married for almost three years now, but they were still as engrossed in each other as any newly married couple.

"Hi, Harry," she said as she embraced her friend. "I haven't seen you since Christmas." She turned and gave Ginny a brief hug.

Harry motioned to the barmaid, who crossed the busy room to take their order.

Ginny grinned across the table. "So? Any significant news? I heard Draco and Susan got engaged, and Neville told me on Monday that he's going to offer for Hannah."

Hermione nodded. "Nearly everybody's sorted now. Katie Bell has accepted Blaise Zabini, and Terry Boot is engaged to a girl called Laura Wallace."

"And ..." Harry said, smiling, "What about you? Why have you gone so pink?"

Hermione grinned and pressed the palms of her hands to her warm cheeks. "That might have something to do with the three glasses of wine I had with lunch."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I assume you weren't dining alone, then?"

She shook her head, suddenly nervous about telling them. What if they didn't approve? "I had lunch with my fiancé; I got engaged yesterday."

Ginny squealed so loudly that she clapped a hand over her own mouth. "Sorry!" she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Oh, Hermione! Who?"

Hermione smiled. "Theodore Nott." She chuckled at their matching expressions of complete astonishment.

"I don't believe it!" Harry exclaimed, thumping the table with his fist. "I owe Ron twenty Galleons!"

"I told you she'd never marry Michael Corner!" Ginny said, sticking her tongue out at her husband.

Hermione looked from one to the other. "You and Ron placed bets on who I'd marry?"

"Yes, they did – the fools," said Ginny. "You know what they're like. I had a copy of the list of candidates, and Harry insisted you'd go for Michael Corner. Ron said there was no way you'd go for Michael – he reckoned your only option was Theodore Nott. Harry said hell would freeze over before you married Theodore, with Snape being his stepfather and all that."

Hermione gasped. "You knew Snape was his stepfather and you never told me?"

Ginny frowned. "Everyone knows Snape is his stepfather!"

"With the rather important exceptions of me, Padma and Dean," she said.

"Can we skip to the part about how the hell you and Theo got together?" Harry asked, frowning.

Hermione shrugged. "There's not much to tell, really. I like him; he likes me. He's really shy, so we'd only talked a little before today. I think we're really well suited, though."

The barmaid arrived with their drinks, and they waited until she'd left again.

"D'you know, Hermione, I think you might be right," Harry muttered, sipping his mead. "I didn't reckon you'd want Snape as a father-in-law, but you're suited to Theo – he practically lived in the library."

Ginny smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"

Hermione blushed and nodded. "I don't know him well yet or anything, but yes – I really like him."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How do you feel about having Snape as an in-law? Will it be a problem?"

She sighed. She hadn't been able to talk this problem through with Padma or her parents. Her vow to protect Severus Snape's privacy had robbed her of anyone to talk to. But here she knew she could talk openly: Harry, after all, knew all the details of Snape's memories, and he had no secrets from Ginny.

"He's so hostile to me, most of the time. I know it must be difficult for him when we, of all people, know about his past, but he's been so horrible to me since my first day at Belgrave. Since my first day at Hogwarts, really. I suppose I should be used to it by now." She sipped her drink and bit at her lower lip. "When he told me he was Theo's stepfather, I was ... appalled. He's been much nicer to me since then, which is weird. He doesn't think we're suited– he thinks me and Theo will never work out."

"What?" Ginny asked. "Why would he think that?"

Hermione shrugged, trying not to get upset. "He gave me lots of reasons, but they all seemed trivial to me. The thing is, I don't even know whether or not to believe what he says. Is he really concerned that it wouldn't work out, or is he trying to put me off because he couldn't bear to have me as a daughter-in-law?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance. "Do you think it won't work out?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not going to pretend I know him well, but even after spending today with him, I'm confident that we're suited. And he won't have any problems with my parents – he's more knowledgeable about Muggle politics than I am, and he knows London like the back of his hand. I can't see any reason why it wouldn't work out perfectly well."

"It seems to me," Ginny muttered, leaning forward, "that it's not so much a matter of what Snape thinks, as a matter of whether or not you're willing to put up with having Snape as an in-law."

Hermione stared into her drink for a moment. "After the day I've just spent with Theo," she said, feeling suddenly cheered, "I'd be willing to put up with much more than Severus Snape and his bad behaviour. I think there's every chance that Theo and I could be very, very happy."

Harry grinned and raised his glass. "Well – you know I always hoped you and Ron would end up together, but I'm just glad you're happy. To Hermione and Theo," he said.

They all clinked their glasses together.

Ginny gave her an impish grin. "Have you slept with him yet?"

Harry choked on his mead. "Couldn't you two discuss this when I'm not around?"

They both ignored him. "Of course I haven't! Haven't even kissed him yet," Hermione said.

Ginny looked thoughtful. "I always reckoned he'd be a great kisser – dark and mysterious and all that."

"You always reckoned Theodore Nott would be a great kisser?" Harry asked, looking horrified.

"Not as good as you, obviously," Ginny said, poking him.

Hermione laughed. She often felt uncomfortable around other couples, but not Harry and Ginny. She'd known them too long. She looked at their drinks on the table and frowned. "Why are you drinking orange juice?" she asked Ginny. "You always drink mead."

Harry and Ginny looked at one another and smiled. "You're not the only one with news," Harry said.

"I'm six weeks pregnant," Ginny whispered, a broad smile on her suddenly radiant face.

"No way! Congratulations!" Hermione pushed back her chair and hugged them simultaneously.

The conversation moved inevitably into the realms of all things baby-related. As Hermione watched her friends from across the table, she was envious of their happiness. Harry kept looking at Ginny with such an expression of protectiveness that it almost brought tears to her eyes. She'd never, in her whole life, felt at all broody. But now, confronted as she was with their joy, she imagined her and Theo sharing the same news with friends and family. And the idea was not entirely unwelcome.

***

Hermione had just finished dressing for bed that evening when there was a faint tapping at her bedroom window. There was a large brown owl on her ledge. She knew a moment of panic when she recognised the Ministry of Magic seal on the scroll in its beak, but gave a relieved sigh to find that it was just from the Department of Mysteries about her job application.

A grin spread across her face as she read the letter: she was the only applicant whose submission they were prepared to consider and, as a result, they wished to move the process forward and interview her on Friday morning. She took a quill from the drawer in her writing desk and hurriedly scribbled a note to Theo. There were only thirty-six hours to go until her interview; they needed to talk.