Theo awoke next to Hermione the next morning and grudgingly pulled himself from her arms. He wanted to stay in bed with her, watching her sleep and cuddling with her, but he didn't trust himself to just cuddle.

They hadn't done anything more than kissing and a little heavy petting the night before. He had offered to sleep on the couch, even, but Hermione insisted that she wanted to cuddle with him.
So he had to find a way to pay her back. The best thing he could think of was to cook her a lovely breakfast in bed. He wanted to spend all day with her, if at all possible. Perhaps even help her a bit with the research on the Skeleton Key.

Theo had always been a multitasker, and so while he cooked, he read over the file she'd been given for the third time. As he turned the page, a picture slipped out that he hadn't seen previously. It was a black and white photograph of a door. What struck Theo as odd was that, as far as he could tell, it wasn't a wizarding photograph. He frowned, looking at the picture and even turning it over to examine the back. He paled when he read a name he never thought he'd see again. He turned the stove off immediately, leaving the eggs on the counter and hurrying back to the bedroom. He dressed quickly and quietly, tucking the photograph into his pocket. He left a short note on the counter for Hermione.

Sorry to rush out, love. Something came up. It wasn't you.

Hermione

September 25, 2002 London, England — Calloway Book Shop

Hermione didn't understand what had happened. Theo has spent the night with her, and when she'd woken, the kitchen looked as though he'd tried to cook for her, but stopped part way through. She was confused, and the note hadn't exactly helped. She'd expected him to call, owl, perhaps even come back all day, but when she still hadn't heard from him at all by the time she got off two days later, her anxiety got the better of her.

Her worry only amplified, though, when she opened the book shop door to find not Theo behind the counter, but Alex. She frowned, coming up to lean on the counter.

"You're usually hiding in the office. Everything okay?" She asked, trying not to let her worry for Theo out just yet.

"Yep. Theo had to leave early, so I'm covering the counter." Alex said with his normal easy smile. "I take it you expected to see lover boy, eh?" He chuckled, but his laugh disappeared when her frown deepened. "Okay, what did he do?" He deadpanned.

"He stayed over at my place Saturday night." Hermione said quietly, worry tugging her brows together. "He woke up before me on Sunday. And… well it looked like he was cooking breakfast. But he left a note. Said something came up. And I haven't really heard from him since." She shrugged.

Alex frowned at that. "That's not like him. But you know, he was really distracted at work Monday. In his head. Kept murmuring to himself and then said he had to take care of some family business. Something about a manor?" He offered.

Hermione was more confused by the moment. "Do you…know where he lives, by chance?" She asked softly. "He's been to my flat, but I've not really been to his. I probably should go over uninvited but."

"But you're worried." Alex nodded. He wrote down the address for her and handed it to her. "Call me if you need me, Hermione. I mean it." He told her, making sure she met his eye.

She nodded and immediately took the address and headed out. "I'll either be back, or I'll call you." She confirmed as she headed out of the shop.

It didn't take her long to get to the flat- it was only a fifteen minute walk, after all. She tried to calm herself outside his flat, tried to tell herself there was a reason behind this madness. She didn't want him to think she was overly worried, and she certainly didn't want to scare him. She raised a hand to knock on the door when the door opened on it's own.

Theo looked down at Hermione curiously. She'd never seen him quite like this; he was in lounge pants and a white shirt, his hair untidy and his face covered in stubble that looked to be a few days old. He was ruggedly handsome in her opinion, except for the bags under his eyes. Hermione knew the moment she saw him that he probably hadn't slept in at least a day.

"Hermione." He said softly, his voice cracking from disuse. He reached forward and pulled his knuckles over her cheek gently. "I'm sorry I scared you, love." He murmured, looking into her eyes. How did he know? How did he always know? She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"What happened?" She asked softly, opening her eyes again to look up at him.

"I'm sorry I left. I found something in the file. Something I didn't expect to see." He told her, reaching for her hand and pulling her into his little flat. "I had to be sure before I told you. I found a Muggle picture in the file, and the name on the back of it I had only seen in one place before: one of my father's journals." He admitted, showing her to the living room of his little flat. There was a couch and chair, and a small coffee table. But the coffee table was currently covered in loose papers and notebooks, and a large leather bound journal. He sat on the couch, looking over the mess while he talked.

"My father was clearly not a very good person. But before the return of the Dark Lord, he got himself involved with a couple plots among a thief's ring. They called themselves the Wildlings, after the object of their obsessions, one Jonathan Wilde. They deified that man, proclaiming him as the King of Thieves and a bunch of other bullshit. Now I wouldn't normally think twice about this other than the fact that my father once told me that Wilde has wildly bragged about owning a Skeleton Key, just like the one we're looking for. It was a mission of my father's to infiltrate the Wildlings and find the key." He told her, looking up at her.

"What stopped him?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"Voldemort's return." He said, sighing. "He still kept detailed notes tracking the Wildlings until he died. But he never came any closer to the key and than we are now."

"Wait, so you're saying-'' Hermione said, looking over his papers, "There's a ring of muggle thieves that's holding onto a wizard artifact? We need to inform the Ministry, the Improper Use of Magic-"

"No. Hermione, if they found out about this- that my father was involved in this- I'd be arrested at once." He told her solemnly. "I can find this. I can- I can-"
"You can't do this alone." Hermione told him, moving over to him and placing a hand on his arm. He stilled, looking up into her eyes.

"It's the only thing I know how to do." he told her softly.

"Let me help. I'll go to Harry, talk to him. He came down to the department a while ago. I honestly think it might have something to do with this- he didn't give me a lot of information. We'll keep it off record and figure out where to go next." She told him, her hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek. She could tell he was scared, and she knew that look well. "I'll keep your name out of it until absolutely necessary. Okay?" She asked softly.

He nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Sure." He said. He turned his head slightly and kissed her hand. "I'm really sorry I left Sunday morning." He told her. "I had to get over to the Manor, and then, well. I needed to make sure I was right before I got your hopes up about this." He told her.
"I'm just glad you're okay." She told him with a smile. "That we're okay?" She phrased it as a question. She wasn't certain, still, that they were okay.

"Yeah. We're okay. Just- Hermione, I've got a lot of baggage. And it'd kill me if that baggage ended up hurting you." He admitted.

"I'm a big girl. We'll get through it together." She told him. "I'm not too worried about your baggage. It goes with mine." She smiled up at him.