Author's Note: This piece was written for the Fairest of the Rare's Love Fest 2020, as a gift for Tridogmom.
#LF2020 #TeamAphrodite
This piece has not been beta'd and all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Theodore Nott had never considered himself to be smooth by conventional standards. By any standards, really. He had always been a little clumsy and accident-prone, but it wasn't his fault.

Naturally, he tended towards absent-mindedness, although he hadn't quite decided if it was due to a lack of focus or whether his mind just got carried away without his body.

Theo preferred the latter.

And as his classmates were apt to remind him, he was far clutzier than the average student at Hogwarts—always had been. But Theo didn't mind. As an introvert, he had always preferred the company of his own thoughts to the excessive drama that always plagued his fellow Slytherins.

On a different side of the same coin, Theo supposed he had his own ineptitudes to thank for his present situation. Given the way he had been raised, if he had been perhaps slightly more adept—more talented in the ways his father had always tried to push on him—he might have ended up in a far worse situation. Facing a trial like some of his year-mates; or a permanent cell like his father and the other Death Eaters that had survived the battle at Hogwarts in May.

Despite his best efforts, though, Theo hadn't been able to dredge up much sympathy for the man who had raised him after his mother's mysterious demise. It was all bollocks anyways—Theo knew his father better than that.

The man had made it abundantly clear, as far back as Theo could remember, that he was nothing more than a disappointment. But if being a disappointment meant he'd never been branded with an ugly bloody snake on his arm, he could only be grateful.

As it turned out, Theo had been able to return to Hogwarts in September to complete his final year of schooling that had been cut short by a war. And now with the year halfway completed, Theo was only months away from sitting his NEWTs and escaping once and for all, when everything shifted.

It didn't come as a surprise—even remotely—when the staircase he'd been climbing decided to shift at the exact moment as he was turning the page in a novel that had caught his full attention several days prior. It had been a little surprising to feel the awkward angle at which his ankle landed when he wound up in a heap back at the bottom of the staircase, and the resulting crack made him wince before he even tried to put weight on it.

Theo was no stranger to the hospital wing, having made many trips over the course of the last seven and a half years.

But when he came to, surrounded by familiar white sheets and the noxious scent of antiseptic, early morning sunlight streaming through the high windows, he had been startled to meet the wide brown eyes of Hermione Granger peering down at him.

"You're awake," she said by way of greeting, taking a step back. "Good. I need you to take these."

He could feel his ankle held immobile by magic when he tried to wiggle it.

Following her hand, he noticed three potions lined up on the bedside table. Dragging a hand down his face, he recognised the grogginess that went along with pain potions, and groaned, "How long have I been here?" It didn't occur to him until that moment that anything was strange about Granger's presence, and he added, "What are you doing here? Where's Pomfrey?"

With a bit of a huff, Granger folded her arms, though her expression remained one of thinly veiled caution. "Madam Pomfrey is attending to another student."

He lifted a brow, fumbling on the bedside for one of the vials, and nearly knocked over the other two in the process, his fingers thick and uncoordinated. Granger lurched forward, steadying the other vials.

Gruffly, he bit out, "Thanks," before tossing the first vial back with a grimace. Idly, he added, "You'd think they could do something about the taste."

To his surprise, Granger gave a small titter, her lips twitching. "Drink up."

"You didn't answer my question," he went on, the words a little slurred as the pain potion began to take hold in an instant. "What are you doing here?"

Leaning against one of the tall pillars near his bed, she folded her arms, worrying her bottom lip. "I'm undertaking a student apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey."

"Sounds dry," he mused, "if it means you have to look after sods like me."

She didn't answer but to nod at the remaining two vials. Wrinkling his nose, Theo quickly drank the contents of both vials before returning the empty containers to the bedside. Granger collected the empties, staring at him for a long moment.

"It isn't terrible," she finally conceded. "My hope is to go into healing—and this will help. And it's… distracting."

"Ah," Theo intoned. Despite that he hadn't played an active role in the end of the war, he had experienced his own share of horrors the year before under the reign of the Carrows. He could only imagine the sorts of things from which Granger needed to distract herself. "I follow."

A dull hint of colour painted her cheekbones and she glanced away. "Most of your superficial scrapes and bruises have healed overnight, but you sustained a significant fracture to the upper ankle, as well as a few bones in your foot." Under her breath, she added, "Not sure how you managed all of that."

"You'd be surprised," he managed, growing light-headed from the cocktail of potions, "some of the ways I've injured myself."

Despite the situation, and that they had never spoken to one another nearly half as much, a wry grin split her face, lighting the chocolate in her eyes. He swallowed, finding she looked quite pretty when she smiled at him. Vaguely, it occurred to Theo that if she was aware of the status of his scrapes and bruises, she must have inspected him in some capacity and he glanced away, feeling a sting of warmth in his face.

"Well," she said quietly, staring at him; some of the tension had released from her shoulders. "Do try harder to look after yourself, yes? You should be set to go by this evening, if everything heals as it should."

"Wonderful," he slurred, feeling a heavy tug on his eyelids as his face rolled to the side, nestling into his pillow once more.

When he woke up late that afternoon, his release papers already signed by Madam Pomfrey, Granger was gone.

It was a handful of weeks before Theo saw Granger again. Excepting, of course, the fact that they took most of their classes together as two of only a handful of returning eighth year students.

For some reason, even though they'd never had anything to do with one another, Theo had found himself thinking about her with increasing regularity ever since he'd landed in the hospital wing with a broken ankle. It didn't surprise him that she wanted to be a healer and help people, given the trials she'd faced in all the years they'd attended Hogwarts together.

He thought it was admirable, and he also sort of envied her surety. Theo had no idea what he wanted to do after leaving school, though he had little interest in pushing papers like the rest of the worker bees at the Ministry.

His interests included potions, magical creatures, and wandlore. So perhaps something along those lines might crop up—but mostly Theo was just relieved to be out from beneath the thumb of his father. He was legally entitled to the entire Nott estate now, although he hadn't seen fit to deal with all of that before returning to school. Dealing with it all sounded like a royal headache, transfers of ownership and funds, and other assorted nonsense.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Theo slipped on a pool of melted snow in the Entrance Hall and collided face-first with the heavy oak door, his vision going black in an instant.

When Theo stirred, an outrageous throbbing in his head, he rubbed at his temple with a wince. It was dark in the hospital wing, but as his vision slid into focus, he found the dark gaze of Hermione Granger peering intently at him. When he sat up, she stepped away.

"You told me you were prone to injury," she mused, "but I think I underestimated exactly how badly you meant."

Cracking an uneasy grin, he pressed two fingers gingerly to his hairline, feeling a large goose egg. "What did I do this time?"

"I don't think you have a concussion," she announced, folding her arms, "which is good. I think you just took a hard hit. Good thing you have a concrete skull."

Theo huffed a surprised laugh. "Granger, was that a bloody joke?"

She gave a dismissive shrug. "Might have been."

"Your bedside manner is awful."

Lips twitching, she stepped towards the bed. The moonlight filtering through the tall windows shone off her curls and the delicate lines of her face. Quietly, she said, "I'll take that into consideration."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Are you going to fill me up with pain potions again?"

"No," Granger returned, "I think I'll make you suffer." Her lips curled into something more genuine, and she added, "I can get you a pain draught if you'd like one, but I think you're fine. I'll keep you overnight for observation but you should be able to leave in the morning."

The thought occurred to him in a fleeting instant. If he had managed to injure himself worse, he could stay in the hospital wing longer; he could spend more time talking to Granger.

Because beyond the white walls of the infirmary, they were still Gryffindor and Slytherin. But in here… something felt different.

Not that Theo wanted to be in the hospital wing.

As he caught the sparkle in her eye, however, he wasn't entirely certain he believed the thought.

At last he interlocked his fingers behind his head, leaning back against the pillow, and said, "My head does twinge something awful."

"Oh," she exclaimed, surprise crossing her face. "Then let me go and—" She cut herself off as a smirk crossed his face, spreading into a grin. Huffing, she folded her arms, shaking her head at him. "Bollocks, right?"

"Bollocks," he echoed softly. "My head feels fine. But since we're here…" he trailed off, meeting her eyes. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. "Tell me a story."

"A story," she repeated, amusement colouring her tone. "Why in the name of Merlin do you want me to tell you a story?"

"Because I just woke up, I'm not tired, and you're stuck here watching me overnight," he listed, head falling to the side. "Certainly you've got some stories in that overlarge brain of yours."

Granger stared at him for so long that he was sure a flush crossed his face, her expression contemplative, before finally she drew the chair at his bedside closer, sinking into the cushioned seat. From up close, Theo could see the softness of her features in the cold glow of night, and his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

"Maybe," she said, "I'll tell you about the time Harry, Ron, and I broke out of Gringotts on the back of a blind dragon."

Holding her gaze, he couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. "Sure. Tell me about that."

He couldn't get her out of his head. After their last meeting, wherein they had talked through the night until the early hints of sunrise broke the horizon through the windows, Theo had found himself searching out Granger's distinctive head of curls.

In classes, in the hallways, in the Great Hall at meals. The way she would laugh and smile with her friends. But he knew more about her now. That she had taken on her apprenticeship as a way to steady the racing in her heart and chase away the dreadful memories.

He had seen the sadness behind her smile, hidden in the depths of her eyes. Even weeks later, he could still hear the soft tinkle of her laughter.

Every so often, he would find her looking his way, and their eyes would meet for an innocuous instant in which his heart would explode.

He needed to see her again, but he had no logical reason to do so. Fearing rejection, he kept to himself in classes and at the library, even when she was within his line of sight.

Because there was no way a girl like that could ever be interested in someone so bland, so ordinary as Theo Nott. Still, he couldn't shake the thoughts of her from his overactive mind, and eventually an idea implanted itself in his brain, just deep enough that he couldn't shake it.

Wouldn't shake it.

A smile tugged at his lips at the thought.

"What do you mean, you're sick?"

"Sick," Theo returned, plastering a frown on his face. "I don't know what's wrong—I'm not the healer."

Granger scoffed, pressing her lips into a thin, unimpressed line. "Technically I'm not, either—but Madam Pomfrey is tied up with serious matters. Take a seat, and I'll have a look at you." As she frowned, peering closer, her expression shifted. "You're awfully clammy. I'll test your temperature."

Idly, Theo wondered if he'd subjected himself to the extreme heat of the Slytherin hearth long enough to have raised his internal body temperature. Perhaps he should have cast a few more heating spells on himself.

Forcing a pathetic look onto his face, he cast her a doleful stare. Casting a few spells, her frown deepened. "You're incredibly warm."

Theo released a drawn out sigh. "I suppose I'll need to stay in the hospital wing for observation."

"Probably," she admitted. "None of my diagnostic spells are coming back with any results, so I'll have to wait until Madam Pomfrey is available. She'll know what's wrong, I'm sure."

"That's okay," Theo mused, affecting a bit of a cough. "It's probably just a matter of getting adequate rest and nutrition. I've no problem staying the night here."

Granger cocked a brow, confusion flittering across her face. "I can get you a vial of pepper-up or dreamless sleep if you need. I know I've been all but working myself to exhaustion with NEWT preparations…" Trailing off, she shook her head, and Theo stared at her for a long moment, his mind churning.

Before he could think twice, he blurted, "I can help you, if you like." At the subtle widening of her eyes, he pushed on. "If you wanted help preparing."

At last, she admitted, "It might be nice to have a study partner. But you're ill—we can discuss it further another time. You ought to get some sleep."

When she handed him a vial of dreamless sleep, a stern look on her face and a knit in her brow, Theo muttered quietly to himself, "Blast."

Chest heaving with exertion, Theo caught up to Granger in an otherwise empty corridor, nearly stumbling into her as his toe caught between two cobbles in the floor. "Granger," he huffed.

"Nott!" she exclaimed, her expression alight with surprise. "What is it?"

Clutching his wrist tightly, he brandished his other hand towards her. "I've injured myself. Can you help?"

Taken aback, she fixed him with a suspicious look. "I don't see it."

"Here!"

Squinting closer, Granger took his hand between both of hers, her touch gentle as she swept her fingertips along his skin, pressing gingerly on the bones of his fingers. "I don't think anything's wrong with your hand."

Sniffling, Theo adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag with his other hand. "I've cut it."

"Oh," she mused, squinting still closer. "Oh. Here."

"Yes."

Even as she fixed him with a hard stare, her lips twitched. "Nott, you've given yourself a paper cut. You're fine."

Releasing an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes, careful not to jar her touch from his hand. "It's not just a paper cut. It was cardstock; it's deeper than it looks. I think it might need sutures."

"Oh Merlin," she huffed, releasing him to drag a hand down her face. "Look, Nott, this is sort of a bad time. If you've really got a problem, you'll have to go to the hospital wing."

Theo frowned, his shoulders sinking. There was no point in going to the hospital wing when Granger wasn't on shift; but he couldn't tell her that without giving himself up. Instead he asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she said quickly, as if on instinct, but he could see in the false press of her lips that it wasn't genuine. When he lifted a brow, she relented, her entire body stiff with tension. "It's just… it's been a bad day, alright? I just need to get to the library, and work on this Potions essay, and—"

"Granger."

Cutting herself off, she stared at him, desperation seeping through her stare. Finally she whispered, "It's been a bad day, Nott."

He understood all too well what that meant, and in an instant, he was grateful he had sought her out. Holding her gaze, he said simply, "Talk to me. I'd like to help, if I can."

"But your hand," she whispered, lips curling. "I think you might die if you don't get it looked after."

Quietly, he said, "I'll chance it. Come on—let's go for a walk."

The gentle gratitude in her face caused a twist in his stomach, and despite his juvenile reasoning for seeking her out, he was glad he'd done so, as she whispered, "Okay."

"I never know," Granger announced without looking up from her charts, "if your visits are legitimate or not anymore."

At last she glanced up, a sparkle in her stare that he was growing accustomed to.

"Legitimate," Theo returned, holding up his hands—or attempting to, anyways.

At the awkward bend to his wrist, Granger's eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. "I've never met someone so accident prone as you. What in the name of Merlin did you do this time?"

"Bludger," he intoned meekly.

"You were playing Quidditch," she huffed under her breath. "I'm not even surprised you've done this, then. I didn't think you played Quidditch."

"Not often," he said with a shrug, extending his broken wrist as evidence. Flashing her a grin, he added, "Can you fix me up?"

Granger's expression softened and she took hold of his wrist, gently pressing the tips of her fingers to the joint where the Bludger had mangled his bones. A frown tugged at her lips, a furrow of sympathy in her brow as she whispered, "You've got to stop hurting yourself, Nott."

Despite that he wanted to shout a string of curses at the feel of her twisting his wrist, he managed an uneasy grin. "Then who would keep you company in here all the time?"

With a bit of a huff, she breathed, "Valid point."

"Maybe," he managed through clenched teeth, "if you accepted my offer to study together—"

She released a bright, surprised laugh. "Sit down, Nott. I'll see if I can mend this wrist."

As he sat on the edge of the bed, she followed with a wave to secure the privacy hangings, her expression that of intense concentration. Though every touch as she meticulously worked to straighten the bones of his wrist shot immense discomfort through him, to the point where he nearly blacked out from the pain at one point before she hastily fed him a pain relief draught, Theo couldn't stop thinking about the way her fingers felt on his wrist.

At last she finished, peering up at him through her lashes and biting down on her lower lip. "You're going to need to stay to let the bones set back into place. But they should be back where they were meant to be now."

Her words were contradictory to the way her fingers still grazed his wrist, the pain having all but diminished to a dull throb as she fixed the bones. Absently, Theo dragged the pad of his thumb along the back of her hand with his good hand, before he said, "Thanks Granger."

A pretty smile graced her face and she mused, "If I spend time studying with you, will you try to stop injuring yourself?"

"Unfortunately," Theo said with a sigh, "that part is beyond my control. I'm naturally like this." But he met her gaze, offering her a smirk, and added, "But that would make me happy."

A hint of colour lifted to her cheeks but she didn't remove her hand from between his, her lips parted as she stared at him. So quietly he wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly at first, Granger said, "Perhaps we could study over some Butterbeers this weekend."

Swallowing, he only blinked at her for a long moment with consternation. Then he choked, "You're serious?"

Granger glanced away with a bit of a shrug. "Only if you want to. Unless I've misread the situation, of course—"

"Granger," Theo deadpanned, staring at her, "do you think I wanted to let that Bludger break my wrist?"

"You—" Cutting herself off, she shook her head, and whispered, "You're bloody insane."

Taking her hand into his functional one, he entwined their fingers, grateful when she didn't pull away. "I'm naturally like that, too." Cracking a grin, he added, "But I would be thrilled to study over Butterbeers with you this weekend."

Dragging her closer, he grazed the apple of her cheek with his fingertips, grimacing as his wrist tweaked.

"On second thought," she whispered, "I'll probably end up with Butterbeer all over my notes."

"Probably," he admitted, forcing a thick swallow. "Butterbeers first; studying after?"

A genuine smile spread across her face; ducking in, she breathed, "That sounds perfect," before pressing her lips against his own.

Her lips were as soft as they looked, and as he returned the kiss, Theo felt a slow smile spread across his face. When she drew away, pressing her forehead against his, he tugged at a stray curl fallen loose.

Planting another soft kiss to her lips, he murmured, "I guess I should wind up injured more often."

"You should not, and that isn't possible," she whispered with a titter, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.

But when he caught her gaze, beneath the chocolate in her eyes, Theo found a glimmer of hope.