After the war, wizarding Britain does not heal so much as it reorganize itself. The old families are not forgiven, but they are needed — their gold, their influence, their silence. To ensure stability, the Wizengamot quietly revives a tradition no one dares name aloud: strategic pureblood marriages. Theodore Nott is informed, not asked. He listens without reaction as names are exchanged, bloodlines weighed, futures negotiated. He expects indifference to settle over him, as it always does — until he hears hers. She is not a stranger. She was a fellow Slytherin, back when they were still in Hogwarts, and they had both shared a few conversations, their relationship remaining casual and careless. Theo remembers the sound of her voice, the way she never raised it. He remembers the moment their eyes met, sharp and assessing, before she turned away. He has carried that memory quietly, without indulgence, without hope. Now she is to be his wife. And he couldn't be happier, because he is been utterly and pathetically obsessed with her ever since she had hexed him to throw up slugs in second year for bullying a boy from Gryffindor. Outdoors, he is always the perfect picture of the distant, cold husband, leaving the impression of making his wife feel alone and isolated. Indoors, he is utterly devoted, all "yes love"s, and "of course my dear"s, and clingy obsession.