Nautical Paramour

I've written over 10,000 words but still have a bit yet to go, so here is a little sneak peek while you wait.

Hermione had gotten used to life in her cottage, quiet and alone. She spent her days working through the stack of reports that Undersecretary Swift had generously assigned her and her nights unpacking, or brewing, or cooking the muggle way. There was a muggle village only a short walk away and it felt safe enough for her to walk there, even though the muggles treated her with suspicion. They still took her money, though.

She prepared for a small garden in the front even though it would be weeks until she could plant, and thought about Neville. She contented herself with attempting little brews and thought of Professor Snape and Harry. She stared at the wide stretch of back garden, perfect for pick-up Quidditch, and thought of Ronald and all the rest of the Weasleys.

Anything to keep her mind from straying to thoughts of Alfie, though her traitorous mind had often slipped, thanks in no small part to the way that the damned bond ring on her arm would heat up against her skin, reminding her of its presence at the wizard that put it there.

Mostly, she was content in the quiet, biding her time and pondering over her options. She wasn’t naive enough to think that she’d be able to get back to her future, even if she had the original time turner that had brought her here. But, she also wasn’t as stupid as Dumbledore to think that the past couldn’t be changed. She would not allow Tom Riddle to wreck havoc on the wizarding world as Lord Voldemort. 

But not yet. She knew that it would be extremely dangerous and difficult, so for now, she was content in the quiet hours with nothing but her own thoughts for company.

Wrapped up in a report, sitting at her desk, she was suddenly overcome with a feeling that something was not right. She had grown so accustomed to being alone that the instant she sensed some other... presence, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She stood up abruptly, grabbing for the wand on her desk and turning at the same time that she heard the pop of apparition. An invisible hand jiggled her door handle on the outside and, finding it locked, wasted no time in blasting it open.

Chapter Five | Imbolc

“That sounds... permanent,” she said, her heart rate increasing, thinking about what this meant.

“It is supposed to be permanent,” he said, his blue-green eyes boring into her, willing her to understand what he was trying to share. “You would find it easy to remove if I broke my oath, or... or else you would enjoy the ring’s protection until the day that my heart stops beating.”

Hearing the words leave his lips was heady and Hermione found herself almost agreeing then and there. This was insanity, even considering tying herself to Alfred Nott with blood magic, but there was something so...familiar about him that it almost wasn’t a question that she would agree. He felt like home. He felt like belonging. He felt like...a reflection of herself. Together, they were greater than the sum of their parts and now that she’d felt how far they could go together, she was loath to give it up.

Her eyelids fluttered shut as she dared to ask the question that was singing in her heart. “And what oaths are you making me? An oath of protection?”

“Protection, yes, but as I said before, I want to show you my total devotion to you,” he whispered, his eyes dark as he explained. “I cannot offer you romantic words or the promise of an easy life. I can promise you a place at my side — never to be parted from me. If anyone tries to come between us, I will destroy them.”

She whined low in her throat at the thought of such a promise. Godric, she wanted it. Desire was burning inside of her, but still she could not voice the words. How could Alfie suggest that he was not capable of romantic words, when his promise was perhaps the most romantic thing that she’d ever heard in her life?

Feeling his hand on her jaw, his thumb and forefinger spanning the distance easily, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open to look at him. The pad of his thumb rubbed along the soft skin of her neck, before settling on her pulse point. She was practically panting now, her breath shallow and quick.

i’m falling deep and hard back into my theomione phase and i’m looking around desperately for recs now here’s the thing about me every 2-3 years i have fanfic amnesia so i will forget i have read soemthing

LOL TELL ME WHY i get recommend many of your fics, the name itches something in my brain i search it up here i made edits?? i spoke to you about your fics??

i love having fanfic amnesia istg💀😭😭time for me to consume your content again like i did 5 years ago 💀

Aw, welcome back! Totally get the fanfic amnesia — it's happened to me as well!

I am seriously so honored to hear that you are still being recommended my fics 🥹 I really love the Theomione pairing and I hope to come back to it again this year! Since it's been five years, you might not have seen Sour Candy — it's a modern au, but one that I really enjoyed.

And, of course, thanks for the edits! They are so appreciated. I had to go back and look for the one from Sleeper and it's so fun!

“Ah, you did not warrant an invitation to the Blacks’ party,” he mused. “Quite rude of my dear friend to leave his witch high and dry.”

“I can’t say that the invitation was missed,” Hermione said, tartly, though it was true. She didn’t exactly want to go to Orion Black’s house or whoever’s home it was at. “But, what has made you scorn the Blacks’ party?”

Tom gave her a conspiratorial look, before leaning towards her. “Well, I suppose there is no reason to lie to you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and offering her his arm, so they could walk together. “I also did not receive an invitation to the party.”