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In Every Universe - Quill Quests
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Published:
2026-02-01
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2,500
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1/1
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51
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In the Margins

Summary:

Hermione Granger refuses to run her bookshop like a business that doesn’t care about people.

Theo Nott specializes in saving businesses that are “operationally sound but structurally bleeding.”

Compromise, it turns out, lives in the margins.

Notes:

Prompt:

Book Shop AU

Thank you so much to the world’s best abc reader, MagusMonoceros, for always giving the best advice and cheer! ❤️

And thank you so much to the mods of this fest for the incredible prompts. This was so much fun to write, and I cannot wait to read the rest of the fics in this fest! ❤️

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Gin,” Hermione sighed, setting her coffee down with more force than necessary. “The bookshop is profitable on paper, but every month I’m barely making ends meet. I’m not sure where I’m going wrong.”

Ginny lifted her mug. “I wish I could help, Hermione, but numbers make my brain short-circuit.” She paused, eyes brightening as she snapped her fingers. “Actually. Wait. No. I do know someone.”

Hermione looked up immediately. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Blaise’s football friend,” Ginny said breezily. “Theo. He’s some sort of financial analyst. Specializes in businesses that are—how did he put it?—‘operationally sound but structurally bleeding.’”

“My business is not bleeding,” Hermione said a little too quickly.

Ginny hummed into her mug. “I didn’t say it was.”

She lowered the cup, fixing Hermione with a patient look. “But if he helps businesses that are genuinely failing, surely he can help one that’s just… stretched thin.”

Hermione stared into her coffee as if it might hold all the answers. “I don’t have the money for consultants, Gin. I can barely justify the heating bill some months.”

Ginny leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You don’t have the money not to look at this properly,” she said gently. “You can’t keep carrying the whole thing on your back and hoping it sorts itself out.”

Hermione exhaled through her nose. “You sound suspiciously like Blaise.”

“I married him,” Ginny said cheerfully. “Some of his financial savvy was bound to rub off.” She traced a finger along the rim of her mug. “Just come to the football match on Friday. Meet Theo. Consider it… information gathering.”

Hermione hesitated then nodded, mostly to end the conversation before Ginny escalated to emotional manipulation.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go.” Meeting him wouldn’t change her mind, she was sure.

Ginny beamed. “Brilliant.”

All the blokes Blaise played football with were fit in a generic sort of way: strong legs, broad shoulders, confident movements.

But Hermione’s attention kept drifting to one in particular.

He was fast, fit, and quiet. When he scored the final goal of the match, he didn’t gloat or dance. He only smiled briefly at his friends as they cheered for him before ducking his head and getting back to work.

Hermione liked that.

At the end of the match, she made a concerted effort to look anywhere but at him, which lasted approximately three seconds. She told herself she was only curious, only checking whether he was headed toward a waiting partner.

She was not prepared for Blaise to clap him on the shoulder, murmur something in his ear, and then steer him directly toward where she and Ginny stood.

Oh.

Oh.

So that was Theo.

He was even more attractive up close, which felt frankly unfair. Wavy brown hair fell into startlingly blue eyes, and his smile was charmingly crooked. His frame was tall and lean, but Hermione had seen his strength, his controlled agility.

Bloody hell.

“Hermione!” Blaise greeted her, hauling her into a sweaty hug and kissing both of her cheeks before she could dodge. He released her and wrapped an arm around Ginny, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Theo,” Blaise said, turning back to the man beside him. “This is Hermione, my wife’s oldest friend.”

Theo inclined his head. “Hermione,” he said, and his voice was deep and rich.

She ignored the tingles of desire that lingered at the base of her spine.

“Blaise mentioned your bookshop might be having some financial troubles?” he added, not unkind.

“I wouldn’t say troubles,” Hermione replied at once, smiling a bit too brightly.

“But she could definitely use your help,” Ginny cut in smoothly, already tugging Blaise a step away.

Hermione glanced back at Theo and found him watching her with interest, his gaze thoughtful. 

“I couldn’t afford to pay you, though,” Hermione said quickly, preemptive.

“That’s all right,” Theo said easily. “My firm does quite a bit of pro bono work.” He tilted his head. “It’s The Lion, The Witch, and The Bookshop, right?”

Hermione nodded. With Ginny and Blaise beaming at her, and Theo looking genuinely engaged, there was clearly no graceful escape. He wasn’t going to find anything wrong with her business, anyway.

“Yes,” she said. “On Charing Cross Road.”

Theo withdrew his hand from his pocket and produced a business card that was maddeningly immaculate. Had he carried that through the entire match?

“Why don’t you e-mail me your financial records,” he said. “And we’ll meet back here next week. After the game?”

She took the card, careful not to linger, though her fingers betrayed her by tightening around it. “That sounds… reasonable,” she said.

He smiled properly this time. “It was lovely to meet you, Hermione.” He nodded to Ginny. “Good to see you again.”

Then he waved to a few of the other players before gathering his bag. Hermione watched as he walked off on his own, the easy confidence he’d carried on the field still lingering in his every move.

And, for a reason she didn’t entirely understand, her heart fluttered.

Hermione told herself all week that surely he hadn’t been that attractive. Surely she’d embellished him in her memory—those brilliant blue eyes, that sculpted jaw, the unruly brown curls on his head.

But as Theo jogged toward her after the game, she realized she’d been wrong.

He wasn’t less attractive than she remembered.

He was more. 

Once the congratulations and greetings had run their course—Blaise clapping shoulders, Ginny beaming—Hermione seized the first excuse she could find.

“Would you like to take a walk?” she asked.

Theo’s answering smile was warm and unguarded. “I’d love to.”

They set off together, Ginny and Blaise cheerfully volunteering to watch their things. Hermione managed several steps before the silence became unbearable.

“So,” she said. “What did you think?”

Theo looked away, thoughtful. “You were right about one thing: the shop isn’t failing.”

Relief bloomed before she could stop it.

“In fact,” he continued, glancing at her with admiration, “it’s one of the best financial frameworks I’ve reviewed this year.”

Hermione straightened, warmth spreading. Praise from him felt… unreasonably good.

“But,” Theo added. “It was smart to ask me to look at it,” he went on, tone careful now. “Because if you continue on this trajectory, you could be in real trouble within the year.”

Hermione swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he began. “You run your shop like someone who doesn’t actually want to make money.” 

She nearly tripped over a tree root. “Excuse me?”

He glanced at her, lips twitching. “That was poorly phrased. Let me try again.” He was entirely too calm for a man who had just insulted her life’s work. “You run it like someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and refuses to compromise.”

“That sounds like praise,” Hermione said coolly.

“It is,” Theo said. “And a warning. You’re running a community center with a cash register.”

Hermione stopped walking.

Theo noticed immediately, slowing, turning back to face her. His brow furrowed, but he wasn’t annoyed. He seemed… curious.

“You let kids stay after school,” he said, softer now. “Every weekday. From three until five.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “They do homework. They read. Sometimes they just sit.”

“And during that time,” Theo continued, “your sales drop by an average of twenty-two percent.”

“Because people think teenagers are feral,” Hermione shot back. “Which says more about people than teenagers.”

Theo huffed a quiet laugh before catching himself. “You’re not wrong. But customers don’t need to be morally correct to pay your rent.”

“They need to be decent,” she snapped.

“They need to buy books,” he countered, eyes sharp now.

They stared at each other for a beat, tension humming between them.

Then Theo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Hermione. I’m not asking you to kick them out, alright? I’m asking whether you’ve considered how you’re…. framing it.”

“Framing it?”

“Study hours. Youth reading club. Something structured,” he suggested. “Right now it looks chaotic.”

“It’s not chaotic,” she said. “It’s alive.”

Theo smiled at that. “Alive things still need roofs.”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking, forcing him to fall back into step beside her.

“And the inventory,” he said, quieter. “You’re overbuying debut authors. Local presses. Experimental stuff.”

“Because no one else will stock them.”

“Because they don’t sell.”

“Because no one gives them shelf space,” she shot back.

Theo stopped again, this time reaching out almost instinctively to steady her when she pivoted too fast. His hand lingered at her elbow for half a second longer than necessary.

Neither of them commented on it.

“You have boxes in the back that haven’t moved in over a year,” he said.

“And one of those authors came in last week and cried,” Hermione said. “Because it was the first time she’d ever seen her book on a shelf.”

Theo swallowed.

“I can’t put that on a spreadsheet,” Hermione continued, voice fierce now. “But it matters. It counts.”

“I know,” Theo said quietly.

She blinked, surprised.

“I know,” he repeated. “I just—” He exhaled, frustration bleeding through. “I don’t want you to burn yourself down to keep everyone else warm.”

Her anger faltered, just a little.

“And I don’t want to succeed by becoming something I hate,” she said.

They stood there while the argument hovered between them, unresolved and alive.

Theo finally smiled, slow and crooked and undeniably flirtatious. “You’re very stubborn.”

She lifted her chin. “And yet you agreed to help.”

“Yes,” he said, eyes flicking over her face. “Funny, that.”

She felt the heat of it then: not just the argument, but the interest. The way he wasn’t backing down. The way he wasn’t dismissing her either.

It was ridiculously attractive.

“So,” she said, folding her arms. “Are you going to tell me to change everything?”

“No.” Theo shook his head. “I’m going to tell you to change some things,” he corrected. “So you can keep the rest.”

She studied him, suspicious and intrigued.

“That sounds dangerously reasonable,” she said.

He laughed. “Careful. Compliments like that might make me think you like me.”

Hermione sniffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Analyst.”

Theo leaned in just slightly as they resumed walking. “Give me time.”

And Hermione couldn’t help herself—she smiled back.

The street was still half-asleep when Hermione arrived, keys cold in her hand. She liked this hour best: before customers arrived, before anyone needed anything from her.

She slid the key into the lock and froze.

Someone was walking closer down her side of the street, hands tucked into the pockets of a dark coat. Theo looked up as he approached, blinking once before smiling, slow and pleased.

“Oh,” Hermione said eloquently. “Theo.”

“Good morning,” he said. “I hope this isn’t inappropriate.”

“It’s seven forty-five,” she said. “That depends entirely on what you want.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I brought peace offerings.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and held up a neat stack of flyers.

Hermione unlocked the door on autopilot, her pulse irritatingly fast. “You’re aware I didn’t agree to anything yet.”

“I’m aware,” Theo said easily, following her inside. “This is me being persuasive. Not presumptuous.”

She flicked on the lights. “You’re already toeing the line.”

“I’ve always been good at that.”

She shot him a look. He only smiled wider.

He handed her the flyers. Youth Reading Club: Weekdays 3–5. And beneath it, smaller text: Books available in-store.

Hermione frowned. “You’re monetizing children.”

“I’m incentivizing literacy,” Theo corrected. “Parents buy the books. Kids read them here. You keep the store.”

She scanned the second flyer. Local Voices Monthly Book Club. And at the bottom, in bold: Book purchase required for participation.

She looked up slowly. “You’re sneaky.”

“I prefer strategic.”

She leaned against the counter, studying him. “You actually expect people to buy the books?”

“Yes,” he said, then added, gentler, “Because they’ll want to. You already did the hard part. You made the shop worth coming to.”

Hermione swallowed and busied herself setting her bag down. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Theo shrugged out of his coat, draping it over a chair. “You accused me yesterday of being irritating. I’m simply leaning into my strengths.”

She laughed despite herself, then caught it and scowled. “You can’t just turn up at my shop with printed materials.”

“I absolutely can,” he said. “I have a printer.”

She rolled her eyes and moved to the till. Theo followed, glancing around with open appreciation while she counted the float.

They worked in companionable silence for a moment. Theo straightened a crooked stack of paperbacks without asking. 

“Why?” she asked suddenly.

He stilled. “Why what?”

“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “The flyers. The showing up. That’s not… normal.”

Theo leaned back against a shelf, arms crossing loosely. He didn’t look at her right away.

“My mum would’ve loved this place,” he said finally.

Hermione’s breath caught.

“She read everything and anything,” he continued. “She believed stories were how you survived.”

Hermione stayed very still.

“She would’ve loved that you let kids sit on the floor,” Theo said. “That you stock books no one else will take a risk on. She would’ve bought one every week, if my dad had let her.”

He glanced at her then, eyes open and unguarded. “He thought that was ridiculous.”

His jaw tightened. “He thought that if something didn’t make money, it didn’t matter,” Theo went on. “He still thinks that. And I’m very good at being like him.”

“You don’t sound like him,” Hermione said quietly.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I sound like him when I’m not careful.”

She closed the till and turned to face him fully. “So you help failing businesses.”

“Yes.”

“To feel better?”

“To feel different,” he corrected. “To remind myself that numbers can serve people. Not erase them.” He paused just long enough for it to sink in. “And you’re not failing,” he added. “You’re just refusing to be cruel.”

Hermione exhaled, slow and shaky. “You’re very dangerous, Theo Nott.”

The bell above the door jingled as the first customer of the day stepped inside.

Theo pushed away from the shelf, his eyes soft and curious. “I should go. Let you open.”

She hesitated, then handed him one of the flyers. “Leave some by the counter.”

His smile was quiet and pleased. “With pleasure.”

As he headed for the door, he paused. “Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“If this works,” he said, “let me take you out to dinner.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

He grinned. “I’ll help you fix it.” He tugged on his coat. “Then I’ll take you out to dinner.”

She watched him go, her heart doing something reckless and idiotic.

Maybe saving the bookshop didn’t mean turning it into something else.

Maybe it meant letting someone stand beside her while she kept it exactly what it was.

Hope.

Notes:

Thank you so much to my incredible abc reader, MagusMonoceros, the mods of the fest, and, of course, to you, for reading my work. I would love to know your thoughts! ❤️

This story was greatly inspired by my local bookstore growing up. Local bookstores are pillars of the community, many offering programs just like these (and more!). Please remember to shop local whenever you can!! ❤️❤️

Thank you so much! ❤️