AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This was my 2012 HP Rarefest (hprarefest . livejournal . com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. Here was the prompt I worked from:

PROMPT #148 Theo/Hermione OR Blaise/Hermione

SCENARIO: Ancient Runes partners, maybe?

Please review and let me know what you think!

DISCLAIMER:"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

TIMELINE: Hogwarts and Post-Hogwarts-A/U. Begins 1997. In this world, Voldemort was not resurrected in 4th year, and there was no war thereafter. The students lived the drama of typical high school years, only with magic and Quidditch.

MAIN CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name): Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Harry Potter + original characters

SUMMARY: The creature within Theodore Nott wanted Gryffindor's Princess, Hermione Granger, for its Prima mate... and it would have her, no matter how such a thing would ruin them both in the end.

RATING: NC-17 (MA)

WARNINGS: Masturbation (implied); a magical creature mating to include sexual arousal through biting and scent marking, fingering, cunnilingus, sexual intercourse (mutual virgin deflowering); Pregnancy; Magical creature biologic drive forcing infidelity; Secondary character death (implied); Romantic angst & tragedy; a snarky, sneaky Draco Malfoy.

NOTES: Prima = Latin for "first, primary". Hetaera = Greek for "High Class/Educated Courtesan" (plural 'Hetaerae'). Sequi = Latin for "secondary, to come after". Bashert= Yiddish for "destiny" (referring to one's divinely foreordained spouse, also called a 'soul mate'). How many times can you count the word 'ruin' in this story? Props to the person who guesses right!

MY RUIN

By: RZZMG

.^.^.^.^.^.

Platform 9 ¾ was as noisy and chaotic as ever as students gathered to board the Hogwarts Express and start the school year. On that ill-fated September 1st morning, Theodore Nott's gaze fell on his fellow seventh year, Hermione Granger, and knew instantly that he was going to betray and ruin her.

The hunger for sex that had awoken in him upon his seventeenth birthday – just this past summer – grew into a clawing, burning, ravenous thing the moment his eyes alighted on the curly-haired Gryffindor. The beast within him took one look at her in her tight Muggle jeans, noting the way they hugged the curves of her delectable arse as she bent to pick up the carry case for her feline familiar, and it roared to life under his ribs, causing his blood to rush through his veins and pound in his ears. Within seconds, he was sporting a painful, throbbing erection that required immediate attention in a nearby empty stall in the men's public loo.

As he stroked over his length and climaxed to thoughts of yanking those jeans down her thighs and taking her in a private carriage on the train, instinct told him: he had found his Prima Hetaera in Hermione. She was to be his first Veela mate.

The girl who had become his tentative friend only last year, on whom he'd developed something of a secret fancy when they'd been partnered in Advanced Ancient Runes class together just this past February, was going to be his first shag. They were going to lose their virginities to each other, and she'd end up pregnant by the end of the school year as a result.

Shite. Fuck!

She'd never forgive him for it.

She'd especially hate him, he knew, once he was forced to move on to his second and third mates – the Sequi Hetaerae, the 'women who came after'. Because there was no way that the prim, virtuous Granger would understand or accept his Veela side's biological compulsion to breed, or the fact that only once he'd impregnated three women would it settle down, its need to further the survival of the species sated.

This is so wrong, he railed and cursed their fate.

The Veela heredity, which had skipped three generations of Nott men until Theo, didn't care a whit about her deficient blood status either, or that she lacked a pure-blood's social understanding of etiquette, or that she was untitled and common. It didn't care that she was quite innocent of and sheltered against the harsh realities of the world, that with her superior intellect she was destined for great discoveries, or that her Muggle parents would never understand their eighteen-year old daughter being up the duff with an illegitimate child before the school year was up. All of that was inconsequential to its plans for her.

It certainly didn't give a rat's arse about his own feelings on the matter, either. It wasn't concerned in the least that Hermione Granger would be his first everything: First love. First mate. First to give him a child – his heir. First to break his heart... No, it only cared about being buried to the bollocks in her, to be biting her throat and leaving its mark of possession upon her creamy-gold skin, and to be pumping its life-giving seed into her to force conception.

The compulsion to do so right that minute, in fact, was so strong that it left Theo weak-kneed and shaking.

Resigned to the inevitable tragedy that was coming for them both, Theo washed his trembling hands at the sink and walked out of the loo with sweat dotting his brow. He kept his head down as he crossed the station platform and boarded the Hogwarts Express, praying his mate was already aboard and he wouldn't run into her.

Taking up his standard place among the other Slytherins in the rear car, he shuffled into the window seat and pressed his forehead to the cool glass, closing his eyes, feigning a headache. Even as he'd flipped off Malfoy for making a crude joke about his poor physical state, he did his best to ignore the drifting scent of the woman who would ruin him as it filled his sensitive nose, despite the distance of three train cars between them.

.^.^.^.^.^.

"This is all wrong," Hermione whispered around his kisses, even as her small, ink-stained fingers gripped Theo's robes and pulled him into her warm curves. "We haven't even formally dated. We shouldn't."

He stopped her denial by pumping his tongue between her lips, tasting her sweet mouth. His hands thrust into her soft curls at the nape of her neck, gripping tight and holding her to his shuddering form as he both gave and took from her, wanting this – their first kiss – to be perfect.

They were both of them shivering in a mix of anticipation and fear as they gave in to the long weeks of repressed arousal, their hunger for each other having reached a peak that could no longer be restrained.

Beaten down by three and a half months of persistent urges to claim his mate, Theo had finally given in, his discipline shot all to hell. He'd wanted to wait until they were closer to graduation, so she wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of a pregnancy showing while still in school, but the Veela within him had steadily pounded down his resolve, working day and night to erode his will. Exhausted from the fight, his last bit of stubborn resistance was torn away when she'd touched him.

It had been innocent – a gentle brush of her fingers against his hand to get his attention as they worked on their Ancient Runes homework together in the quiet of her Head Girl dorm's common area – but it had been enough to trigger his instincts. He'd shot to his feet, grabbed her, pulled her into him, and unconsciously saturated the air between them with his pheromones in the next instant, knowing the scent would ensnare and lull her into a state of lustful willingness the minute she inhaled the fragrance.

It had worked, and she'd gone glassy-eyed and yielding in his arms, the stain of sexual interest marking her cheeks. He could smell her desire bloom between her legs, could feel the hard points of her nipples through her Muggle jumper as they pressed against his chest. When their lips had met, it had been with an equal passion.

Lifting her submissive body off its feet, he hurried them to the dormitory's cosy sofa before the hearth and laid her back into the red corduroy cushions. His mouth left hers to pull her clothes from her; he lifted the soft Muggle jumper over her head, unclasped the front of her bra and let the cups fall to the sides, unbuttoned and yanked her jeans and knickers down her legs, and removed her trainers and socks.

Seeing Hermione laid out beneath him, naked, soft and willing made everything in Theo tighten with a throbbing need to taste, to touch, to own.

Following his instincts, he did just that.

Hovering over her on hands and knees, he bent his head to envelope one of her berry-ripe nipples with his mouth. With hard pressure, he suckled. Giving a cry of pleasure, his love arched her spine, thrusting her breast to meet his tongue and ravaging lips.

"Theo!" she called, and her tone was wracked with need and confusion.

I'm sorry, he thought, unable to stop, driven by his animal side; preparing her was the best he was capable of at the moment. Perhaps that would be enough for her to think on her first time as being at least marginally pleasurable, and not a rape perpetrated on them both by Nature.

With quaking hands, Theo undid and shucked his clothing, even as his mouth laved across her hot flesh, nipping, kissing, and suckling. He left a series of love bites upon her tender flesh as he moved first up, then back down the length of her body, marking her with love, not just lust.

And he did love her. He'd come to that determination in the three and a half months since he'd first realized her importance to him. For fourteen weeks, he'd obsessively watched her. In that time, he'd witnessed her boundless capacity for compassion, was awed by her zeal for life and knowledge, was proud of her for having such a strong self-confidence, and now knew all of her habits and the quirky behaviours that made her uniquely Hermione Granger. He'd fallen in love with her for all of it.

Merlin, please let me make this good for us, he prayed, feeling the Veela within begin to fully take over. Any minute now, he would lose his higher rationality and become the monster that lurked within. He fought it, wanting to at least make her orgasm once before he took her.

Shaking from head to toe, he quickly lowered his face to between her thighs and without preamble, licked straight up her slit, tasting a woman for the first time. Hermione bucked, nearly coming off the couch, her wail of pleasure and her pure, sweet scent a heady combination to his starved senses. Her fingernails dug into the cushions, making a rasping, scratching noise as he dove in and feasted on her pussy.

He may have lacked all skill in this area, but he had a serious enthusiasm to make up for it, and it was enough to give them both what they wanted.

Things began to haze as he kissed and suckled upon the soft, damp folds and the tiny bud of her clitoris. As her delicious wet heat glossed his lips, his heart hammered so hard under his ribs that he felt each pulse clear to the soles of his feet. His finger burrowed its way inside her silken, velvety channel, his tongue lapped around the rosy lips shielding her secrets, and all the while, he stroked over his painfully hard cock, preparing it by slicking it down with his pre-come.

By some miracle, his inexperienced fumbling brought Hermione crashing over the edge of bliss within moments. Her orgasm bathed his cheeks and chin with the flood of juices, and her cry of ecstasy haunted his ears.

Even as she continued to climax, he moved over her, splitting her thighs wider by pushing her knees up and out, tucking the head of his throbbing, red crown against her tiny opening. He was thrusting inside her welcoming warmth in the next beat, parting her delicate, soft tissues, making them one at long last. Hermione's choked scream was a co-mingling of pleasure and pain. She unconsciously locked down on him with strength, her inner muscles holding him in place as he stilled within her, buried to the hilt.

I'm sorry, he thought again, unable to give her much time to adjust to his invasion and the breaching of her virginity. His hips had a mind of their own. They pulled back until he was most of the way out, and then shoved forward until flesh slapped together. Over and over this rhythm repeated; he thrust into her sweet temple, feeling the way she perfectly held him, milked him, incapable of speech or thought or gentleness. There was only the feel of surging into her silken heat, of her gripping him and attempting to keep him within the very heart of her.

The fire in his veins burned away all his humanity as he mated his first lover, turning him into little more than a creature enslaved by sensation. He fucked hard, deep, ruining her innocence at the same time as his own.

Very quickly his balls drew up tight, signalling his end. As if sensing culmination, his aching gums suddenly split, and his sharp Veela teeth came down over his canines. The taste of copper accompanied the hot spill of blood in his mouth. Led by nature's expert hand, he leaned his head down to nuzzle the cradle of her throat, and with panting breath he made a quick, instinctual strike into the bend of her neck, biting deep and giving her the mark of his Prima. At that same moment, he tilted her hips back, slamming deep into the very entrance of her womb and exploded. In waves of jetting blasts, his seed found its home in her as he groaned with intense satisfaction.

When it was over and done and they lay together in the sweaty afters, Granger cried, overwhelmed by what they'd just experienced together. Theo held her to his chest, his long limbs wrapped fully around her small form, whispering sweet things to her as the animal side retreated for the time being.

He desperately wanted to tell her why things had played out as they had, but Theo had never been particularly brave. He was ambitious and cunning, which was why he was a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor, and so he was finding it difficult to decide how much to actually say. Yet, he knew she deserved some sort of explanation, even if his tired brain wasn't really up to the task.

As it turned out, he hadn't needed to come up with a way to break the news. Hermione already knew, and in her courageous, straight-forward manner, she confronted him on it.

"You're Veela," she whispered.

Theo sighed, not liking the fear and worry that shadowed her tone. "Yes."

She tucked her face into the bend of his shoulder, burrowing closer. "Was I your... Prima?"

Kissing her sweaty brow, he nodded. "Yes. First for everything."

She trembled and he tried to comfort her with soothing touches, rubbing his cheek against her hairline.

"I'll get pregnant."

He swallowed and let out a shaky breath. "I know. I'm sorry."

She shifted in his arms. "You'll... do this... with two other women after me. You'll get them pregnant, too."

What could he say to that? Clearly, she'd done her research on Magical Beings and understood the constraints Nature had placed upon him. He couldn't even find surprise in that, knowing that someone with her passion for knowledge, especially as it pertained to the magical world, would have already read up on the subject.

"I'm sorry." It was all he could offer her. "I wish... it wasn't this way."

A small sob escaped her lips, hitching in her throat. "Why me?"

He drew her back so they were nose to nose, and stared into her rich golden-brown eyes, steeling his nerves and grasping what little bravado there was to be found in his soul. "Because I... love you. You're my Bashert- my soul mate."

With a small cry, Hermione closed the distance between their mouths, kissing him with a scorching, reciprocated feeling. Her love merged and melded with his, and then with their shared sorrow, as they both understood the score, turning the act into something reckless, clawing, and desperate.

And yet, as she straddled his body and rubbed her wet core against him in an unspoken request to have them join again, he realized that despite their mutual fear of the future, they were both of them willing to grab hold of what they could today, in the moment, and ride it out. He knew she did it because it was the Gryffindor way: courage to see things through to the bitter end. He did it because he was Slytherin selfish, wanting to have what he could before it was ripped from him.

As Theo slipped between her thighs, and thrust up, sinking deep into her silken depths again with a groan of satisfaction, in the quiet vaults of his mind, he did something he'd never done before: he prayed. He threw his wishes out to the cosmos, hoping to reach the ear of the Divine. He hoped for her forgiveness for ruining her sweet purity with his animal lust today and for the fact that he was destined to devastate these beautiful, fragile feelings that they were only just coming to share.

And when he was no longer forced by his Veela biology to mate other women, he prayed that he would be allowed to seek Granger out again.

.^.^.^.^.^.

Fourteen years later...

From the shadows in the lee of a brick-faced pillar, Theo watched as Hermione appeared through the magical entrance to Platform 9¾ behind their boy. He'd been hanging about King's Cross for the last two hours, waiting for this exact moment, and now that it was here, he was absolutely terrified to take the next step.

Stalling to buy the time necessary for him to gather his courage, he took a long moment to look over both mother and son.

Seeing Hermione again made the poker-hot feeling in Theo's chest twist with exquisite pain. Stones, it hurt just to look at her. She was still so very beautiful - slim, well-dressed, with that glorious mane of curly, dark hair he'd loved wrapping his fingers through and grasping tight as he'd pounded away...

He closed his eyes for a second to calm his rioting emotions as the flood of memories threatened to roll over him.

When he'd re-established some margin of control, he turned his attention to his son instead, feeling it a safer option for his sanity.

At thirteen, Logan Granger was an attractive young wizard. The boy was a perfect blending of his parents' features, with Theo's messy, straight hair, tall stature for his age, wicked smirk, and Hermione's bright, earthen eyes, defined jaw, and soft lips. He would be a handsome man, and under his mother's tutelage, would continue to surpass the expectations of his teachers, leaving his classmates in the intellectual dust - that according to Potter, with whom he'd been in contact over the last few days regarding his boy.

Entering his third year, the boy was already planning to try out for his House Quidditch team as a Chaser in a few weeks. That showed remarkable ambition. Theo liked to believe the penchant came from him, but more likely it was from his mother, who had always been something of an over-achiever.

Just looking at them together now made Theo ache.

Noting that they were heading in his direction, he quickly ducked around the pillar to stay hidden and watched as they passed by his spot without any indication that they had seen him.

From behind, he watched Hermione's hips sway as she walked. Gods, her arse was still heart-shaped, a little fuller and rounder, but definitely still perfect. The Muggle jeans she wore emphasized her feminine curves, making his fingers long to reach out and give a good stroke.

In his trousers, he grew instantly hard, his bollocks throbbing with want. Well, at least he knew the Veela no longer controlled his reactions to her; this arousal was all his own.

He was taken back in an instant, reminded of how good it had been between them...

The blissful love-fest with his Prima almost a decade and a half ago had lasted throughout their seventh year at Hogwarts. He and Hermione had openly dated after their first night together, shagging in any convenient location and at any time after that, unashamedly pronouncing their love for each other at every opportunity. None of their friends had taken their relationship well, but they'd been too much enamoured of each other to care; eventually, their classmates had come to accept it.

By the sheer luck of the draw, his first lover hadn't conceived until the end of May, so they'd graduated without having to tell a soul about the true nature of their relationship, or worrying about her reputation suffering from a pregnancy while still in school. It was after that, however, that things went bad fast.

Once the Veela had gotten what it wanted, it began to cool Theo's ardour for Hermione, already seeking out the first of its Sequi Hetaerae. Although his heart had never stopped loving his Gryffindor Princess, his body no longer responded to her in the same manner. There came a time in July when he couldn't even sustain an erection for her, and that had hurt them both deeper than either had been willing to openly admit.

Day by day after that, they'd begun slowly drifting apart, the hurts piling up. Their end came that September, on the night of her birthday. Shaking, with her voice choked by tears, she'd let him know that she was releasing him from his obligation to her.

"It's time for you to go."

He could still picture that moment with startling clarity.

She'd been dressed in a dark blue Muggle jumper that hid the small swelling of her belly, and had paired it with a comfortable pair of dark, cotton leggings and calf-high boots with no heel. Her hair had been unbound, flowing about her shoulders, the soft curls falling to mid-back. She'd stared out the front window of the small flat she'd taken in Camden – the flat they'd christened from top to bottom with their love-making - watching the rain come down in buckets outside.

"Your other mates are waiting for you, and... you need to go fulfill your destiny."

She'd sighed then, and her shoulders had slumped with resignation, as she pressed her fingers to the cool glass, leaving imprints behind.

"And, the truth is, I don't want to keep feeling this resentment against you for something that isn't your fault, Theo."

Desperation had caused him to approach her, and to attempt to hold onto her.

"Hermione, please, don't do this! I don't give a damn about destiny. I want to only be with you. Don't send me away!"

He'd begged her on his knees, even knowing in the darkest vaults of his heart that she was right. The lack of his sexual interest in her had been slowly ruining her for almost four months, causing them to break out into arguments over inconsequential things. He'd been delaying the inevitable, hoping every morning for just one more day with her.

But the longer he stayed, the more he hurt her.

Just one more day, he'd remembered thinking in that moment, as if an additional twenty-four hours would change anything.

She'd seen his reflection in the window getting closer and stepped to the side, out of reach. Glancing over her shoulder at him, he'd noted the crystal tears beading her long, thick lashes, slipping down her rosy cheeks.

"Please, Theo, just go... before I end up hating you."

His heart had broken into a million pieces then, slashing through his soul with deadly accuracy, leaving him a shattered man. The realization that their portended doom had come at last – that he'd been right in believing that he would one day end up betraying this lovely, innocent witch and ruining them both in the doing – destroyed him.

With tears wavering before his eyes, making his last vision of her blurred and incomplete, he'd said his good-bye.

"I love you, Hermione. Just you. You'll always be my Prima - my Bashert. No matter what, it'll only be you."

She'd nodded in understanding, covering her mouth with her fingers to hold back her sobs, rubbing a hand over her tummy as she was wont to do when nervous or upset.

With nothing more to say, Theo had Disapparated away then, running as far from her as he'd could before his own sorrow overtook him.

It had taken weeks for him to pick himself up and move on, and then only at the urging of Draco, who was the only person outside the Nott family, aside from Hermione, who knew the truth of his Veela heritage. The man had actually come to Nott Manor and had the gall to pick a fight with him over it.

"Your moping about over the goody-good bookworm has lost its amusement, Theo. Now you're just plain irritating. I'm going to stop coming over if this continues."

"Bugger off, Malfoy."

"Father says I should cut you loose. He says I shouldn't associate with a blood-traitor as you'll rub off."

"We couldn't have that now. Oh, look, there's the door. Why don't you use it, Draco? You can finally make your father happy."

"Lucius is never happy. He's a fucking hypocrite, is what he is. I've seen him bending his Muggle-born secretary, that Cattermole bird, over his desk and giving it to her hard, so I know he's full of shite."

"And I care why?"

"I'm just saying that dipping your wick into the forbidden isn't something out of the ordinary for men of our class. Hell, it happened in your great-grandfather's case, didn't it?"

"You're treading on thin ice, Drake. Watch it."

"Fine. Sulk over your Mudblood rather than come with me to a Quidditch match this weekend. See if I don't just invite Blaise instead. Think I'll make him my new best friend, in fact."

"You hate Zabini. You tolerate him only because of his political connections."

"Which will only improve if I let him have your seasonal box seat at the pitch next to me."

"Fine, go. I couldn't care less."

"You know, while you're busy feeling sorry for yourself, I heard a rumour that one of the Weasel King's older brothers - the Dragon Tamer that was at the Tri-Wizard Tournament a few years ago – is back in town. Bet he's swooping in like a Knight in Shining Armour, acting all noble where Granger's concerned."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"You stuffed her right good, didn't you? She'll need a man to help support and legitimize her and the baby now that you've run off. Won't matter that he's poor as a church mouse; he's a Weasley, and you know how she is about them."

"Fuck. FUCK!"

"What do you care, though, yeah? You've had your fill. Let the Weasley marry her and make an honest woman of her. You've got two birds in the bush waiting."

It was then that Theo had realized what Draco had been about, antagonizing him the way he had: he'd been telling him, in his very Slytherin way, that he didn't mind that his best friend was in love with a Muggle-born witch, and that if he wanted the girl long-term, then he'd better move fast on his Veela duties - before Hermione married Charles Weasley.

That had been the kick in the arse he'd needed.

Theo had found his second mate in France after wandering for almost a year throughout the U.K., finally moving to the continent to try his luck. She'd been a pure-blood witch several years older than he, and they'd hated each other with a passion from the very start. Theo had despised her vicious mouth, the fact that she liked to use men as her personal toys, and that she smoked like a chimney. Her name was Roxie, and she was rude, spoiled, obnoxious, and not even half as smart as Hermione. She'd been with a lot of wizards before him, too, and had no trouble boasting that fact.

Personally, Theo was disgusted by her. Despite that, his Veela wanted her - as evidenced by the raging hard-on he sprung any time he so much as sniffed in her general direction.

They fucked everywhere, as his Veela pheromones brought them clashing together time and again, but he'd kept his heart far away from each joining, refusing to let it be swayed even a little by what they were sharing. And he'd flat out refused to kiss that nasty mouth of hers.

The minute the bint had conceived his Veela had instinctually known it and he'd scarpered away as fast as his feet could carry him. He hadn't even left a note, slipping out of her bed and throwing on his clothes without a care for their state, making for the door with all haste.

He'd found out months later, when he'd gone back to check on her out of some weird sense of guilt, that Roxie had aborted their baby. He'd been strangely conflicted at the news; on the one hand, he'd been relieved that he wouldn't be tied through the bonds of a child to such an awful woman, and yet on the other hand, he'd also been saddened to know he'd never get a chance to know his son or daughter from the union.

The regretful experience he'd shared with Roxie had ruined Theo on some important level, leaving the taste of bitter ashes in his mouth. When he'd walked away from her that second time, he'd absolutely refused to look back.

His last female had taken him ten years to find. He'd roamed the entirety of wizarding Europe, Asia, and half the United States before stumbling across her in San Francisco's Golden Market - the American West's version of Diagon Alley. Laura had been a half-blood, and breathtaking to behold with straight, honey-gold hair, gentle hazel eyes, and a shy disposition. She'd painted seascapes for a living, and dwelt in a small cottage on a windswept beach overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

She'd also been in the final stages of cancer when they'd met.

He'd loved Laura; that was something Theo wouldn't deny. She'd been beautiful and sweet, and it had been easy to come to care for her. But the truth was he hadn't been in love with her. No matter how fantastic his third mate had been, she could never have taken Hermione's place in his heart, and time and distance had not dimmed that fact.

For her part, Laura knew his feelings; she understood he was with her because he was compelled to be, not because he'd walked into their relationship of his own free will. There had been no resentment on her side for it. She'd just been happy for the affection and companionship.

She'd conceived three months after they met, and he'd lingered by her side, despite his cooled sexual interest, because he'd worried for her deteriorating health.

At seven months pregnant, her body had finally given out, and she and his too-premature daughter had died together. Theo had buried them both on that stretch of beach near her home that she'd loved so much. It had taken him another year to finally close up and leave her cottage after that, so deep was his mourning.

When he'd finally returned to London in the spring of 2012, his first thought had been to immediately find Granger. He'd Apparated directly to her old flat in Camden... only to discover that she'd moved out years earlier, and the people living there didn't know where she'd gone to set down roots.

He'd gone to see Draco next, hoping the man would be in on the latest gossip.

In the span of time since his departure from Britain, his oldest friend had taken a job with the Ministry in the Department of International Cooperation, married, and fulfilled his familial duties by bringing a son - Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy - into the world. Theo was overjoyed for his friend's success.

The news about Hermione, however, was not so happy.

"She's married to the Dragon Tamer, I believe."

Theo had thought his heart couldn't possibly be crushed any more than it had at Laura's death, but he'd been wrong. Drake's news had devastated him.

"You have a son. He's three years older than Scorpius. Sorted a Ravenclaw, of all things."

His chest caved.

A son. An heir. His and Hermione's child.

"Potter would know better than me what's happening in her life. They're still connected at the hip every time I see them walking the Ministry halls. Friends forever or some such nonsense."

After thanking his friend for the information and advice, Theo had headed off for the Ministry. There, he'd found Harry Potter in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The man had become Head Auror in the time since their graduation.

"Let me get this straight: after fourteen years of no contact - not even for the birth of your son - you want me to tell you where Hermione is so you can get back together with her? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't boot your arse out my door right now."

Breaking his family's oath of silence, Theo had told the man everything about his Veela heritage, and gave him a very quick summary of why it had taken him so long to come home.

"She was broken when you left her, you know. It took her a long time to recover, but she's happy now, and seems content with her life. You'll ruin that if you step back into the picture."

"For fuck's sake, I love her, Potter! I never stopped! I prayed to come home to her every day we were apart! I've been punished enough by this Veela thing, don't you think?"

"This isn't about punishment, Nott. It's about doing what's right by the person you love. You barge into their lives now, and whose interest are you serving? Not Hermione's. Not Logan's. Your own."

"Don't you think she can make up her own mind about me and the role I'll play in her life, and in the life of my own son? I have a right to know him, Potter, even if she decides she doesn't want me anymore. He's my son. You can't ask me to walk away again."

Miracle of miracles - and an hour's worth of arguing later - he'd finally convinced Potter to give him Hermione's address. Theo left the Ministry grumbling about the man's stubbornness, but with some small hope that perhaps he could talk his ex-lover into considering letting him back into her life.

He'd returned to his family's Manor House to shower and shave - and to tell his father that he was back in town. Despite the fact they hadn't seen each other in several years the man couldn't have cared less that his wayward son had returned; he'd been much too busy discussing political machinations with Lucius Malfoy and Carmen Zabini in the study. Thaddeus Nott had pretty much written his son off the moment it came out that he was "tainted" by the Veela part of his heredity, anyway, so there was no love lost between them, and no hurt from his father's negligent nod of recognition as he'd announced his return.

With nervous flutterbys wriggling around in his belly, he'd scrubbed his body from head to toe, polished his shoes, used his wand to "upgrade" the old robes hanging in his closet to be a bit more fashionable for the times, and made sure his teeth and hair were perfect. He'd also prepared his words in advance, anticipating Hermione's reaction to his sudden reappearance, and his son's reaction to meeting his father for the first time.

When he was as ready as he could possibly be, he'd Apparated over to the address Potter had provided around seven that evening.

Appearing at the very edge of her wards, he'd walked up the gravel path towards her front gate. Through the window of her small cottage on the edge of Ottery St. Catchpole, he'd spied a warm light spilling outwards, keeping the darkness of the night at bay. The glow had highlighted his Prima and two others - males - sitting down to the evening meal together.

It had taken him aback to realize that the redheaded wizard was Charles Weasley - Hermione's husband. When Draco had pronounced Granger married, Theo had assumed that it would be a marriage of convenience, not one of true affection or abiding love. Yet, as he'd watched the group, he'd known he'd seriously blundered in that assessment.

As the three inside the house had enjoyed a home-cooked meal, sitting down around the small, cosy dining table together, he'd watched with a sinking feeling of dread as Hermione and Theo's dark-haired son had both shared a laugh at something Weasley had said. The older man had then reached out and messed the boy's hair with playful ease. The love so clearly expressed across each face had been undeniable.

They had been a picture perfect family.

The sudden realization that Potter had been right struck Theo hard, almost knocking him to his arse: Hermione and his son were truly happy with their lot, and he had no right to ruin their peaceful, contented life. There was obviously no place in Hermione's world for him any longer, nor in the life of their son. The boy already had a doting father, and his mother was clearly well-loved.

He'd immediately Apparated home after that, an empty shell of a man, ready to call it all quits. With nothing left to look forward to, and no ties that would really miss him once he was gone, he'd sat on his bed and fiddled with his wand, contemplating the scenario of Avada-ing himself.

Right as he'd been prepared to snuff it, Draco had walked into his bedroom, unannounced, strutting to the rescue like some irritating, ferret-faced Fairy Godfather.

"Sorry, I was wrong - they're not married. The Dragon Tamer and your Golden Girl. He's asked her several times, but she's shot him down over and over. My mistake."

Theo had jack-knifed upright in surprise, jaw unhinged at the oh-so-casual announcement. In his chest, his ruined heart started beating again - fiercely.

"Drake, you'd better not be fucking with me. I'm not in the mood for your games."

"What games? In any case, I just found out from Astoria that my understanding had been incorrect. She set me straight to rights post-haste at dinner tonight."

"And your wife knows this little tidbit about Hermione how, precisely?"

Draco raised a single, golden eyebrow at him, and tossed him an incredulous smirk.

"Astoria knows everything that's going on in wizarding England. No one so much as farts without her knowing it. Why do you think I don't dare take a mistress, and why my father stopped seeing his?"

He'd grinned proudly.

"My darling, little wife is the Purveyor of Gossip and the Queen of Revenge. She even scares Pansy. Why do you think I married her?"

Theo had considered his friend's words with careful measure.

"I saw them tonight together, at her cottage. They were sitting down to dinner. Seemed... cosy to me."

"What did you expect? Weasley's still pining after Granger. Probably invited himself to dinner, too. Tori says your witch is famous for her pastries. Her bakery in The Alley is becoming as famous as La Patisserie Artistique for its wedding cakes. Bet that's why Weasley's sniffing around, too, the impoverished git."

Filing that bit about Hermione owning a bakery away, Theo had challenged his friend's knowledge one more time, only to have Draco turn it around on him - again.

"Look, she's your witch. You want to know if she's shagging Weasley then go ask her. Besides, you think I really care whether you get your bone on with Miss Iron Knickers or not? I was only here correcting a mistake - in case you got it into that thick head of yours that offing yourself over the chit would somehow be a dramatic statement, or some such idiotic shite. I'd definitely be stuck sharing my Quidditch box with Zabini then, and you know that would make me ill-sorted."

With that, the man had turned and left.

It had taken Theo an additional two days after that conversation to work up the courage to seek out Hermione and find out the truth of her relationship to Charles Weasley... just in time for school to begin.

Which is how he found himself here at King's Cross Station now, trying to blend in against a pillar like some kind of chameleon, watching Granger escort their son onto the Hogwarts Express. Only, he was finding it difficult to actually force his legs to leave his comfortable position and cross the platform to her. His mouth was suddenly too dry, his knees too shaky, and his hands definitely too sweaty.

Salazar's bane, it was their first day of seventh year all over again, wasn't it? And just like then, he was worried about ruining Hermione's life - and his. Now, though, he also had an additional life to consider, too: his son.

He ducked around the other side of the brick column when Granger turned in his direction, feeling his heart threatening to rip through his chest. His throat clogged, and he had to clear it - quietly - just to breathe right.

Bloody hell, he was terrified of screwing up, of having her scream at him, at having his son look at him with hatred. What should he do?

That sickening dread in his belly that had been crawling up his throat all day, threatening to choke the life from him, came on in spades as the train blew its final whistle, and the conductor called, "ALL ABOARD!"

The noise around him was wild as students hung out of car windows, waving and shouting last minute promises to their parents to write home often. Loved ones waved back, promising to send care packages soon. Wishes of good luck were called out all up and down the way.

The chuff of the engine revving up, and the great wheels beginning to turn, snapped Theo's head around. Had his son taken a window seat? Would he be able to watch him for the first time go off to school?

His gaze search every window as it passed...

There. His boy was just sitting down in his seat in a private carriage next to the window, laughing and joking with a young girl who sat across from him.

"Be safe, my son," he muttered the wish, watching him roll out of sight.

"He will be."

Theo's whole world narrowed down to the sound of his pounding pulse in his ears and his suddenly accelerated breathing.

"Hogwarts is one of the safest places in all of Europe, after all."

He shut his eyes, praying that this wasn't a dream, that he wouldn't open his mouth and make a fool of himself, and that it really was herstanding next to him, speaking to him as if fourteen years hadn't separated them.

He said the first thing that sprang to mind. "You did well with him. He's wonderful."

Hermione's tinkling laugh made things low go tight. "Of course I did. You owe me."

He turned his head and looked down into her glimmering golden-brown eyes. "Anything you want," he offered, meaning it with every fibre of his being.

A provocative gleam came to her eye as she smiled up at him. "Anything? Hmmm, Harry must have really made you feel guilty. Malfoy, too."

Her revelation - that she knew he'd been back in town, and seeking aid and advice where she was concerned - floored him. "How-?" he began, but she waved him off with a giggle.

"Harry came storming over to see me the minute you left his office the other day and Malfoy..." She grinned and it was very shark-like. "I knew the moment his wife came sniffing around my shoppe in The Alley that she wasn't just there for the pastries - although she did buy a lot of the chocolate éclairs to take home to her husband. When she started asking me questions about being married, I had a hunch she was there for a reason. It didn't take a genius to put it together."

He swallowed with embarrassment and fear. "So... you're not married then?"

Hermione shook her head, leaning back against the pillar. "No. Not seeing anyone either. You?"

Theo let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. "No. There's no one else."

Her gaze took him in from head to toe, and there was definite, unapologetic heat reflected in her expression. "No more Veela interference to ruin things?"

"Never again," he swore.

"Good," she stated.

For a tiny fraction of a second, she seemed unsure of what to do and say next; her white teeth nibbled her bottom lip and a gentle blush crawled up her cheeks. "Do you... like pastries?"

He nodded, feeling hope crawling up his throat. "Absolutely."

"Come to my shoppe? We can talk over coffee and dessert."

Tentatively, he stretched his hand out to her, willing her to take it. "I'll go anywhere you want, just as long as I'm with you."

She stared at his hand for a moment, and he could read her trepidation. Please, he silently pleaded. Take it. Let's start over.

When her fingers brushed against his, he felt that same heated response throughout his body that he had their first night together. It rushed through him, heating his blood and searing his soul.

Hermione gasped, her eyes flaring wide with first shock, then arousal.

"My Prima," he growled with a possessive assertiveness, recognizing that this bond between them had never truly broken, despite the years and miles between them. They'd been each others' first in every way, and there was no forgetting that.

With an easy tug, she was back in his arms, pressed tight against him. "Right where we finally both belong," he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers.

"Yes," she whispered just before their lips met.

When he took her kiss this time, it was a conscious choice - not done because he was being compelled by his magical heredity, but because he wanted to. To his delight, he discovered that there was no fear of betraying and ruining their future in the taste of her, only a palpable relief as joyful tears trailed down her cheeks and fell between their coupling lips.

As they unashamedly embraced right there on the same platform where he had first recognized her importance to him so many years before, there settled over Theo the comforting sense of coming home at long last. In the tender moment between their eager, panting breaths, he knew his wandering was really, truly over, and that he had finally come full circle. His Veela's destiny had been met, and building a life with Hermione, his Bashert, was his reward for persevering.

Yes, this time, everything was right.

~FIN~

AUTHOR'S FINAL NOTES:

I do want to make one thing very clear here about this tale (I'm looking at YOU, Anon Guest who left an unkind review regarding this issue): because this story is told from Theo's POV, you don't know what Hermione's been doing with her life since he left her to go out into the world to find his other two mates (and I would remind you that doing so was magicallycompelled; his only other choice was death). I was specifically vague about Hermione's comings and goings during those long years they were apart to leave it up to your imagination, assuming the readership would infer that she'd moved on with her life, never expecting Theo to return. That meant she would have been dating other men and enjoying her career, all while being a single mother. Marching on, making the best of it, living her life, taking care of business, searching for her own happy ending. A woman's enjoyment and fulfillment doesn't simply end because a man leaves her (heaven forbid!), and Hermione's character is that of an independent and strong-willed woman from the start, so I never pictured her in this story as being the kind to sit around and mope about her loss or resent the bumps in her life's road. Did she ever forget Theo? Of course not. He was her first lover, and he was also the love of her life. That did not mean, however, that she hadn't moved on. She wouldn't be Hermione otherwise. I hope that clarifies the issue. Thanks for reading.

Please review! I'd love to know what you thought of this short one-shot!