warnings.smut, he’s a little mean bruh, foul language, corny?
ricky rocks. theosmut whoop whoop. you guys voted—mattheo next.
“hurry up.”
“i’m trying my best,” you grumbled, struggling to wring your tights down to your ankles as theo unbuckled his belt fast and without a problem due to this being nothing new to him.
it had to of been fourth hour and theo was struck in his sour mood that only you could cure. but you could tell he was a lot more aggravated than usual by the way he had gripped your arm so tightly when pulling you toward one of the washrooms. you were guessing it was from draco. that’s always what it ever was and probably always would be and you didn’t blame him.
draco could be an absolute asshole when it came to you. always saying nasty things that insinuated his attraction towards you, things that he knew got into theo’s head no matter any amount of reassurance.
just your body against his.
“you want me to fuck you or not?”
“shut up. you try and take these tights off,” you snide, still struggling to pull down the material with the small area of containment of the stall you both stood in.
“i’ll rip ‘em if i have to.”
you scowled finally pulling them from your legs but still allowed his hot hands to sneak underneath your skirt where he pulled your lacy panties down to your ankles with a kneel, then pulling it from your foot before balling the pink fabric into his pocket.
you couldn’t help but whimper from the position you were in. he was kneeled at your feet with hooded eyes, holding your hips now as you tipped your head back now against the wall already deep in a haze of lust.
“and i’m the one who wanted you,” he shook his head but with a smirk thinking to how persistent you were about not skipping class. “i always forget about how needy you can get.” he was now back to his feet, looking down at you like you are a little helpless puppy.
“justplease fuck me, theodore,” you tilted your head to the side with a frown, gripping both sides of his dress coat, pulling him closer but he shrugged it off quickly not being able to wait after the sweet whiny sound of your voice.
“only ‘cause you asked nice,” he smirked, licking his index and middle finger before swiftly curling his fingers back under your skirt and into your cunt where you groaned at the warm and raptured feeling. “what a good girl.” his voice is warm and there’s a hint of taunt in his voice, but it’s still praiseful and doesn’t fail to make your stomach clench in euphoria as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, making sure you were wet.
theo pulled back, finally undoing his belt swiftly. he’s then quick to thrust into you prompting a moan from your mouth as your head tipped backed against the wall. theo had inhaled sharply, allowing his cock to adjust to the tightness of your cunt—something he never quite got used to. he swore under his breath as he pressed further into you, allowing warmth and easy pleasure to consume him whole.
“pretty girl,” he tsked, pulling out slowly before rushing back in even harder than before. “only like this for me and my cock, aren’t you?”
“yes, theo,” your voice was barely above a whisper as your vision was going spotty from his cock stretching out your walls with the rough thrusts he was pumping into you.
“good,” he mumbled breathlessly, “i love seeing you soweak.”
he grabbed both your thighs, prompting you to jump and once you did, he had your back against the wall, now having a consistent pace that made you a complete mess than before.
“i love being the only one who can see you like this,” his forehead presses against your own, teasing his lips on yours, “tears in your eyes—fucking malfoy could never, could he? you’re mine.”
“yes, theo,” you whined as his hand suddenly clasped around your throat squeezing lightly while his eyes looked down to watch his thick cock pump in and out of your cunt with wet noises, “i’m all for you.”
“you have such a pretty mouth,” his thumb dipped to pull on your bottom lip before pressing it on your tongue. “think of what good you could do with it instead of feeding into draco’s nonsense.”
“i never,” you whined, rolling your head.
“liar,” he seems to drop you fast to your feet, almost making you fall to your knees from how weak of a feeling that was oozing through them, making you feel like jello as you wobbled before he flipped you around fast so you were pressed the wall tightly. “i see you tease him for something he can’t have. always provoking him.”
“but you like that, don’t you theo?” you inhaled sharply as he shoved into you once more, “you love it that draco finally can’t have something.”
he grunted in response, nothing to say but to melt back into your body with rough strokes, his hand wrapping around your waist. he was getting more aggressive now, his pumps becoming slams, “fucking cunt, i own you, you’re mine. i want you to stay away from draco.”
“y-yes theo,” you groaned, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you causing your own high to draw near and move down. “i’m only yours.”
pairings.theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader, mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin!reader
part one of n/a.
about. in which a group of boys are in search for the one thing that keeps them from their death.
warnings.swearing, dark themes
ricky rocks. idk if you guys are going to dig this i hate it already
it happens at night.
minds are run through, memories are stolen, a version of brutality is placed upon a large amount of boys that come in the forms of bruises, cuts, gashes—that heal but never disappear from the back of their minds. they can never touch the thought—fully grasp what it is or why this has happened to them or even who, but it’s there and it hovers in high heights that they can’t reach.
all survival, that’s what they all think, the persecutors, the boys. and it is; for their survival.
especially theodore.
days got short and he barely felt the effect of professor snapes lessons now. he dreaded the night, but it seemed to come faster than anything else, but couldn’t move fast enough when it finally arrived.
the gift—the thing they were looking for, the thing that was key to all their survival—was the only thing he thought about now and he didn’t even know what it was.
the beginning of year six started not how expected, he was sure none of his friends expected to be initiated into a group that carried out the orders of the dark lord.
it made sense though. the moment mattheo riddle walked into his life, he knew it wasn’t just another friend, he’d be a fool to think that.
they were bound for life.
°•
potions with slughorn was always something theodore never looked forward to, ever. he felt like an asshole every time he sat in his seat and connected eyes with the man. it was like he knew; everything and it always threw theodore off, making him anxious.
and it didn’t help that he was late.
“awh, mr. nott,” he had his body tilted back as he seemed to be sizing up theodore from where he stood—almost deciding if he were friend or foe. “have a seat where you can.”
theodore looked to where all the students sat, looking back at him. it seemed they had all pulled their chairs to the center of the room instead behind desks where things usually were. it made him curse as their were no free seats in the back but rather in the near front.
“go on, no time to waste here.”
he shuffled through the rows before slowly sitting into the only empty seat next to you. neither of you thought much about it, he didn’t even see you.
“some of you have no sense of time,” slughorn scoffs, back to shifting across the floor in front of you all. “swear if the ministry knew what was best, they’d have nation wide curses put on our children to make them at least on time.”
“long live the rebellion, right?” you rolled your eyes in a frivolous way, shrugging, not watching your words carefully. “i swear we fight for something of rights and then someone goes and says something dumb like that.”
he doesn’t realize you’re even speaking to him. not until you finally really looked to him where he immediately looked slightly confused—not processing your words or not exactly understanding the meaning you were trying to put out. lost in translation, very lost in translation.
he thought you must have thought he was someone else but by the way you stared so surely at him and then reached your hand out, offering a soft smile but with an arched brow that also threw him off, introducing—
“y/n.”
he took it, after a long moment, “theodore.”
“i’ve seen you before,” you look him up, your eyes curving around the family ring he wore around his pinky and the scars the littered his fingers, “you’re a nott.”
“you get that from slughorn?” his brow arched and his eyes turned harsh of what looked like annoyance.
“no, you just look an awful lot like your father.”
his chest tightened. not only did he hate that supposed compliment more than anything, but he also found it strange. how would you know his father?
“and you?” his features twisted in suspicion, not knowing you, not even really recognizing you in the slightest like you did of him.
“y/l/n,” you speak, and the both of you finally release hands from the firm grasp, removing him from a trance and back to reality—a smack in the face. the name, he knew, he knew the fucking name and suddenly it made a lot of sense.
“i’m not sure i’m as familiar of you,” he lied, pulling his best face now that he was finally back into the game, but the skeptical look you gave him made him think his facade wasn’t working. “but i’m curious.”
“of what?”
“you.”
“why?”
“why wouldn’t i be?”
you didn’t say anything but your face screwed up instead playfully, adjusting yourself so you were facing slughorn once again, “maybe you should be more curious on slughorn’s lesson.”
°•
exhilarated.
theodore hadn’t felt like that ever and he never thought he would, but walking down the corridor to the slytherin common room, theodore felt exhilarated.
the common room was dim and filled with low chatter but was interrupted the minute he walked in with the aggressive buzz radiating off his body.
they all noticed it before he spoke, before they could even get a real good look at him.
“it’s not a man, and it’s not a younger year like we suspected,” he looked urgent, it caught all of them off guard—never having seen theodore so anxious and full of energy. “it was right under our fuckingnoses.”
mattheo raises his eyes now, looking at theodore like he was a prick, but it only urged him to keep speaking as he sat down before throwing a scrappy looking book on the coffee table where dust spilled into the air making all the boys wince with a cough.
“it’s a girl and she’s in our very own house.”
now they’re all looking at him like he’s prick, shaking their heads and frowning while theodore stared back, not fazed but itching to move. it was so hard to hold it in, he just had to say it all because he felt like a genius for the first time in months and that they’d finally came to a break through.
“the prophecy said-“
“the prophecy was wrong,” theodore looks between all the boys with his arm extended across the table, making sure his assertiveness reached each and every one of their eyes. “i don’t give a fuck what the prophecy said because it was wrong.”
he looks up to mattheo who stares back, his expression blank but holding a questioning look that’d make anyone back down, “it’s a y/l/n,” he knew mattheo would know the name just like he knew it. “she comes down from a death eater traitor of a grandfather and she’s nothing short of the old man because she spoke of a rebellion.”
it’s silent as they look between theodore and mattheo; who thinks and hates how he feels as if he’s being challenged right then.
“and what makes you think it’s her.”
“because we have no one else on the list,” his tone is nasty, “if it’s not her, fine, cross her off but she has to know something.”
he feels it in his bones that he is right.
“talk to your father, if anything it’ll give us time.”
talk to you father. mattheo rolls his eyes and he leans forward, now challenging the hard tone theodore held with a simple stare, “tell me about her.”
°•
“i didn’t think i’d see you,” theodore froze from right behind where you sat, studying a book from the looks of it, but he guessed you weren’t but rather him since he had entered the library over twenty minutes ago before finally coming up to you. “not for awhile, anyways.”
he took a seat next to you, leaning on his elbows while watching you straighten your posture and close the potions book you had been reading for the past hour, “you watching me, nott?”
“you know my father?” he brushes off your question, giving you a calm stare that made your chest tighten.
you didn’t know how to answer. i mean, it’s a simple answer, ‘yes’, and it’s a simple explanation, you just didn’t want to speak under his stare.
luckily, he didn’t care much for your answer in the first place.
“how come i’ve never seen you before,” he leans his head against his propping hand. he looks and seems bored but you can tell that he’s far from it. “you think i would have seen you at least once in the common room.”
“maybe you’re just not very observant, theo.”
god, the way you said his name.
no one called him theo. not for in a long time.
“i highly doubt that,” he narrows his brows but his lips twitch, taking your words lightly.
“you think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
not lately.
but he doesn’t say that, he doesn’t say anything.
“maybe you didn’t see me because i didn’t want to be seen.”
his lips curve, “i doubt that.”
you watch him. you watch his face carefully, surveying his face and in the way it seemed so completely run down even with that smile, “you should sleep more,” your thumb lightly dabs against his cheek, as if touching him reassuringly—no matter how quick the touch was and no matter the fact that you got up from your seat and left him—it was reassuring.
°•
“she’s pretty.”
“yeah, because that’s going to be valuable information mattheo will want to hear,” blaze rolled his eyes, continuing to read through the paper as lorenzo examined you from two tables away in the three broomsticks.
“you never know,” he shrugs, turning from his altered position that was made just to stare. “you can never tell with him.”
“which is exactly why we have to stay focus.”
ever since theo had made the proposition that the gift was held within you, mattheo had made it clear that everyone had to do everything they could to figure you out—which was kind of hard when theo was the only one who could talk to you without it being weird.
so at that moment, everyone else was staking it out.
“you think it’s her?”
blaise doesn’t answer for awhile and enzo thinks he doesn’t hear him at first until blaise lifts his head, sighing, and putting the paper down, “i hope so—for us and theodore’s sake.”
because if theodore was wrong, it’d be the end for him.
°•
“curiosity kills, you know that, right?”
“and i should be afraid?”
“maybe,” you shrugged, now leaning against one of the large rooted trees that bordered the forbidden forest, staring to theo who kept a good distance with his hands shoved in his dress pants pockets. “especially if you find out things you don’t exactly intend to find out.”
you simply shrug again, but he can tell there’s more meaning behind your words than you act. a ghost of a smirk curves on his lips as he tips back on his feet, watching you.
you look so innocent and small planted against the tree and it makes his stomach bubble up, “really?”
you hum, “but i have a feeling you don’t care.”
“why would i?” he strolls toward you now, his curiosity placed in the core of his eye, it makes you bite back a smile.
he now stood close enough with the points of his shoes almost stepping over yours, teasing a step closer, teasing his body to be put against yours.
“answer the question.”
“i don’t think i need to.”
he laughs sarcastically, his head thrown to look at his feet as he lightly kicks at the dirt before looking back up at you. he was nervous, you couldn’t tell, but theo felt it in his heart that this whole thing could go wrong if you were speaking on what he thought you were speaking on.
he prayed you just loved a good chase and were just fucking with his head.
“you’re a strange girl.”
“you’re the one who followed me out here,” you tipped back and forth on your feet, “i’d say you’re the strange one, theo.”
“maybe, i just wanted to see your pretty face.”
you scoffed, “liar.”
he raised a brow, “you’re so pretty, i wish i never said anything,” he examines your face closely, as if really looking at it this time; for a last time. his hand reaches out and is gentle and seems to be barely there as he runs it down the side of your face. “it’s a fucking shame.”
you couldn’t tell if he was sincere about whatever it was he was talking about—but it seemed so by how distraught his demeanor seemed to suddenly turn.
“what’d you say, theo,” you were calm, confused on what he was on about.
his eyes flick to yours, and he leans, meeting his lips with yours for a just a second, wanting to savor you for just a second before you’d be tainted, “you have a gift.”
promised to someone, part one. theodore nott x reader
summary : in which reader and theodore nott are promised to a marriage at birth that neither were aware of
warning/s ⛓: swearing
slater’s note : forgot to write here.
promised at birth.
you had never thought of marriage like the normal teenage girl. you didn’t look forward to it, you practically dreaded the thought of spending the rest of your life with one person.
but you were still promised at birth to a boy you had never met till now.
“they tell me you’re a disciple of the dark lord.”
“aren’t we all?”
“not like you,” you said it so fast to the point that it sounded intentionally harmful and poisonous, but you didn’t know any better and were only projecting hate for your parents to the boy before you. “they say that the dark lord had made a pursuit just for you.”
he glanced down to his lap, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as your words sunk in and reminded him of the past month of his life—the worst month of his life where he had been doing exactly that—a pursuit.
“he sees something in you,” you say after he says nothing, not looking at you but now sulking.
“it’s not as glorious as it seems.”
“i wouldn’t disagree…” you look at him a little better now, realizing a little better that he’s in the same boat just as you are. he has had no control in your life just as you. his parents have picked and chose for him just like yours. “you’re scared, then?”
“you’re not?”
your eyes crinkle in the corner as you weren’t expecting that question, “no.”
he doesn’t believe you.
“you realize what’s happening tonight, don’t you?” you don’t answer, staring at him with a frown the clues him that you didn’t understand his question, “they’re bounding us. they’re making you take the unbreakable spell to ensure you’ll stay by my side—we’re being bound for life.”
“i don’t believe you.”
he scoffed, shaking his head, “out of all things they told you, they didn’t care to mention that?” theo thinks of his father how he was sitting in the other probably getting his rocks off that his very own son was finally fulfilling his potential.
god, he thought, this will kill him.
he could barely stand his own thoughts recently, how could you? everything he thought about was in correlation to the dark lord and from what he learned about you—you had no relation to the dark lord or anything aside from your parents.
you were untouched, innocent, and therefore desirable and your parents were giving it up to theo as well as the dark lords hands—and you could do nothing.
“why would i lie to you?”
“you don’t know me. why would they..?”
the door opens, and one of your families servants pops his head through the crack of the door, “your parents would like to see you now.”
you look to theo who has tired eyes and a dead expression while he stares up to the man before looking to the window. he dreams of leaving, of going back to hogwarts but for his own will and wishes, not for some scheme. nothing was fun anymore. he hated being around his friends and he misses when times were better and the only thing he had to worry about was his grades and draco’s snarky attitude.
you looked back to the servant, nodding your head and dismissing him. his absence made you move forward on your knees, closer to him, whispering in fear that anyone but him would hear you, “what makes them so sure i won’t say a word?”
“because you’ll die if you don’t,” he got to his feet, “the concept of the unbreakable vow binds our souls together—everything i know, you know. everything that is in my head will now soon be in yours. you won’t think, feel, or breathe the same again.”
**
“join hands.”
you looked up to theo, almost questioning if this was right, but he didn’t show any emotion nor did he look at you. his hand arm raised for yours and you hesitantly took it, gripping his forearm like you did his.
“good,” theo’s father nodded, now raising his wand and touching your joined arms, a look of electricity wounding its way slowly up both your arms.
you stared at it, slightly out of breath from the reality of it all being true.
“now,” theo’s father nodded to you, “do you promise to keep theodore’s secrets as your own, to not shed light to them, even to the closest of friends or trusted family?”
you looked up and between your parents before to theo who still stared at the wire of light swooning around both your left arms, “i do.”
“do you promise to be honest with theodore when a threat is passed your way involving him and or the order?”
“i do.”
“do you promise to accept theodore and all he has done. to offer him faith, and trust, and patience?”
his eyes connect with yours fast, almost wanting yo let go of your hand as if this promise was finally crossing lines above the others. your eyes lingered with his for a bit, narrowing but you still mumbled, “yes.”
“do you promise to take responsibility-“
“no,” his voice interrupted his own fathers fast, an immediate regret filing in on his face, “she is not responsible for the things i have done-“
“theodore, mind yourself,” you close your eyes at the sharp tone of the man, your chest tightening and squeezing your heart in despair. “do you promise, miss y/l/n, to take responsibility for his actions as he does—like your own?”
“i do.”
he looks up at you fast, almost looking betrayed.
“that concludes it,” the man nodded, no emotion on his face, “we’ll talk about the marriage later.”
“you have to be mindless.”
the moment your living room was cleared he didn’t hesitate to raise his voice. it made you frown, confused to his reaction.
“this is what you wanted?”
“never.”
“what could i have done? you said it yourself, i’d be dead-“
“there still would have been time to get you out of this, you weren’t trapped yet,” you were confused to his frustration and why he suddenly cared so much as he was confused to the way you had so easily accepted this. he couldn’t even begin to process how you even accepted this to be your fate with a stranger. there was time for you, you could have wiggled your way out of it.
Warnings: fluff, a smidge of angst, a kiss or two but it’s all sweet, christmas tradition (mistletoe) but no religion specified, an innuendo or two but nothing bad
Request:theo nott x reader where they go on a double date with separate dates but they spend the whole time flirting with each other
a/n: it has been 6 months since i even considered it writing so things are a little rusty. i decided to just forgo the taglist because it’s been so long, but i appreciate any and all interaction. this is for @draconisxcaput‘swriting event and i loved participating! thank you for putting it all together babe and i can’t wait to see all the other fics. enjoy!
—————
It was a bad idea from the start.
You could accept that; you could acknowledge it. It wasn’t necessarily your fault, but you did fuck up. And, it seemed, once you started lying, it was awfully hard to stop.
“A date, you say?” Theo asked, curiosity quirking his lips.
You nodded, tense. “Yup.” (A lie. There was no date.)
Both his and Lavender’s brows raised, but a challenge glimmered in the former’s eyes. They waited for you to continue, expectant, but your throat was too dry to give anything more than another nod, promptly looking away from Theo.
It really was an accident. Lavender had managed to talk about Ron for an entire hour—though not for the first time—and when she finally finished the story about how they began dating, you had grown beyond tired. And so maybe, yes, it was your fault, but honestly who could blame you?
Youmayhave blurted that you had a date of your own, but that was only to switch the topic. An entirely understandable action as your ears were ringing from the giggles and squeals and pet names that made you ill. And there was no way you could have known that Theo would swoop in right at the second, making your lie a little less escapable.
You were moments away from bringing up Ron, if only to get Lavender talking about herself again, when her name was called down the corridor, pulling her away. Once she was gone, you let out a heavy sigh, closed your eyes, and imagined a world where you kept your damn mouth shut. This had to be your worst idea yet.
“So,” Theo broke the silence, just as you considered begging Dumbledore for a Time-Turner (you were sure he could understand your distress), “this…date.”
He didn’t believe you. You could hear it in his voice. Of course he didn’t believe you. The stupid lilt to his stupid tone made you want to slap his stupid face. It was always Theo ruining your life, never anyone else.
“What about it?” You opened your eyes, fighting the urge to rub your temples. “Are you jealous?”
He scoffed. “I would never be jealous—”
“It’s alright, Theodore,” you soothed. “If you want some pointers, you only need to ask.” You spun away at that, beginning your trek to the library.
He fell into step right beside you. “I don’t need any pointers—not from you, at least. I’m just curious about the sad bloke who asked you out.”
You smiled sweetly, electing to ignore the insult. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Humor me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. If you’re really interested….”
Ever-so-slightly, Theo leaned down. Excitement lit up in your stomach at the opportunity you’ve been given. Silver-linings and all. He hummed, indicating for you to go on.
“Well,” you started, turning the corner, letting your voice follow, “he’s got blond hair—not like Draco’s, more of a dirty blond. And it shines in the sun, almost like spun gold. It’s mesmerizing, you know?” (You didn’t even know.) You closed your eyes, pretending to be lost in thought.
“And?” If it were anyone else, you would say he was actually interested.
“And—and he’s shorter, but not too short. Just perfect for me, I think.” You passed the threshold, softening your voice to match the quiet room, which only made Theo move closer. “And he’s nice. Sweet. Thoughtful. He takes care of me. You know what?”
“What?” His voice was lower, smoother.
“I think I might’ve found the one, Theo. Like theone.”
He laughed, but some amount of resentment dripped from the sound. “I’m sure you did, sweetheart. Just remember to tell me how long it lasts.”
You bristled but continued, pasting on a renewed smile as you found your table of friends. Theo chose a seat slightly out of your peripheral, but you could feel his presence. Within minutes, you were focused on immersing yourself in the conversation, and more importantly, ignoring the gaze that was lasering itself into the side of your face.
Now that you had a chance to think about it, you had only worsened things for yourself. You still didn’t have a date, nor a potential suitor, and you had spoken about this made-up person like you were on track to fall in love with him. Hell, you couldn’t think of anyone who matched the description.
And what was it for? To make Theo feel bad? To make him jealous? It was a constant game between the two of you, but you wondered if you’d taken it too far this time.
Draco and Pansy got caught in another debate, and you were happy enough to see him engaging with the group that you let yourself zone out. Nobody was actually out there for you, not the one, like you taunted Theo with. There was no way out of this, and your only option was to pray to any and every listening god that Theo forgot about your ‘date’.
But luck was not on your side today, and all too soon, fingers were snapping in front of your face, bringing you out of your trance. You shoved whoever was responsible (Theo, of course), and turned your attention on the group.
“Yes?” Annoyance leaked into your question.
“I was just telling them about your date,” Theo said, putting an emphasis on the last word. His grin was back, and your stomach churned.
You had been friends with him since you were little—best friends, even—but that had changed after fourth year. There was a fight, one you could hardly recall, and you never bounced back. Not the same, at least. You tried not to think of the times before, when he had been the closest person in the world to you, but moments like this made you wonder if the only reason he still bothered with you was to make you hurt. And more than that, you wondered if you deserved it.
He always was too good to you.
“My date.” You swallowed. “Yep. Tomorrow, down in Hogsmeade.”
“Oh?” Blaise questioned, and for a second you were worried he could see right through you. His eyes narrowed, his lips quirked, but that was all. He turned his attention to Theo. “And you, Nott? Have you managed to charm a girl yet?”
You stifled your laugh. “Theo couldn’t get a date if his life depended on it.” (Another lie. A terrible one. But you certainly would never admit the truth.)
His jaw clenched for hardly a breath, then—as if the most brilliant idea filled his mind—he was smirking. “As a matter of fact,” he glanced towards you, “I have a date of my own tomorrow.”
Something sour filled your mouth. (Jealousy, perhaps. No, not that. Definitely not that.) You clenched your jaw and felt your hate grow, a dagger piercing your chest. You hated this competition, this game, the rules of which you didn’t even know. What were you doing?
Blaise’s face lit up more than you’d ever seen. Pansy and Draco also paused their hushed bickering to pay attention. “Is that right?”
You spared a glance toward Theo to find him already watching you. Some hesitance flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before you could name it as such. Now, he smiled. Nodded. Turned back and confirmed exactly what he had said.
“It’s a bit last minute,” Theo admitted, “but I think we’re going to have fun. Shopping. Walking. Who knows what else.” He let the innuendo hang in the air.
You bit your tongue.
Just like that, whatever hopes for rekindling friendship with Theo disappeared. He was always doing this. One-upping you, bringing his conquests around, making sure you saw. And you wish you could blame him for it, but in all honestly, you found yourself doing the exact same thing.
Maybe that’s why you immediately agreed to Blaise’s next suggestion, if only so you could show Theo that you didn’t, that you never needed him. You’d figure something out.
“Well if you two are both going tomorrow, you might as well go together. I hear Madam Puddifoot’s has a discounted price for large parties. A double date, if you will.”
And while Theo recoiled, you leaned forward. “That is a great idea. Right, Theo?”
He twisted in his seat, let his gaze flick toward the sunset outside, then looked at you. The challenge remained. “I think that sounds wonderful.”
—
You were fucked.
Yes, you established that before, but this time was different. You tried to figure out why you would ever put yourself in this situation, but the only answer you could think of was because you were stupid. Plain, simple. Stupid and fucked. (You winced when you paired those words together.)
And now here you were, scrambling to find a date that you didn’t even want to go on in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t your fault. Maybe it was Lavender’s. (You made a mental note to disperse some of the blame onto her later.) And Theo’s. (Definitely his fault.)
It would be easier if you hadn’t given a description of your imaginary suitor—Theo’s precise opposite, no less—but you just hadto go and make him jealous. The holidays were designed for not stressing, but you were doing just that.
That evening, you scoured the corridors for someone even moderately close to what you had detailed. And you thanked Merlin himself when you finally found them.
Terry Boot. Ravenclaw. Not too tall, not too short. Light brown hair. It would work. You would makeitwork.
He was smiling as you walked up to him. You had an intention, letting your hips sway, pulling your hair back from your face. One shot.
“Hi, Terry,” you started. He was a bit taller than you, but not much. Perfect. “I have a question for you.”
Confusion flitted across his face, but it was all in good nature. “What’s up?”
You let out a silent breath. This was going to be easier than you thought. You had taken enough classes to resolve any awkwardness, and he seemed interested enough to keep talking to you. (You were taking what you could get.) “Well, tomorrow is the last Hogsmeade trip before break, and I have no one to go with, and I was just thinking….” You paused and called it dramatic effect.
“Thinking…what?” His lips tilted up, and you found him leaning closer. He was a foreign presence, especially so close, but you didn’t hate it. Not at all.
“We could go together? Maybe to Madam Puddifoot’s? They have a discount and some of my other friends are going, and I’d hate to show up all alone.” You gingerly grazed his tie with your finger. “It could be fun.”
Terry hummed. “It could be. And I don’t technically have any plans….”
You perked up. “So—technically—you would want to go on a date with me tomorrow at noon at Madam Puddifoot’s?” You were reaching, but you didn’t care.
You sighed in relief when he nodded, and then froze when he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before running into the Great Hall. Still foreign, still not entirely unwelcomed.
You considered following him in, then thought better of it. You just needed to breathe, but before you could manage that, Theo caught your eye. You gave him a smile, dazed for reasons you couldn’t identify, then walked in the opposite direction, not once looking back.
—
Honestly, you deserved more credit than you gave yourself. Not only did you make up an elaborate lie that landed you on a double date (minus the date), but you also saved yourself by finding a date within a handful of hours.
You were almost grateful for your bad decisions, which was another plus, because now you could see Hogsmeade during Christmastime. It was lovely—that was the only way to describe it. Snow glittered from rooftops, flakes landed on noses, and it was nature that brought the magic for once. Glittering lights, frost-covered branches, excitement you could feel in your lungs.
It was something shared between all those around you, and perhaps that’s what made it so remarkable.
“You ready?” Terry asked, a careful hand on your back. You appreciated that quality of him, the way he didn’t push any further, didn’t make any attempts.
In the walk from the castle, you had learned there was a lot to appreciate about Terry, actually. You always knew him as kind, but you were now learning each other on a different plane, testing waters you had never once considered. It was romantic, for sure, in all the ways young love was.
Still, the distinct pain, the damned dagger, that filled your chest whenever you saw Theo was present. And behind it, a trickle of surprise. You hadn’t truly thought he had a date, had even prepared to buy him something from Honeydukes to lift his spirits, yet there he was, his own hand holding Daphne’s.
Maybe you should have seen it coming, but even now you were hesitant to acknowledge it for reasons you were not quite ready to admit. Daphne was as good of a friend to you as she was to Theo. You shouldn’t have been surprised.
Yet….
“Ready as ever,” you murmured, nearly taken aback by how comfortable you already were with Terry. He was good for you.
Theo held the door open. Terry thanked him. You did not.
The shop was large, albeit busy, and you were lucky to get a seat in the back corner. The light was dim enough to be warm, even though the air outside was beyond frigid. The sweater you wore under your robes was too thin, you realized, but you told yourself to power through it.
Like a gentleman, Terry pulled out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit, then going as far as to push it in. You felt your cheeks heat, and you didn’t imagine a scoff that resounded from a certainindividual.
You flicked your eyes to Theo, who deigned to sit right across from you, then moved to Daphne, giving her a friendly smile.
Before you could take even a moment to take in your surroundings, Theo was speaking to Terry. “So you’re the hot date.” He winked, and you fought the urge to strangle him with his own scarf.
Terry took it lightly, even attempted a laugh, but the unease was there. And you could hardly blame him, what with the way Theo was staring him down like a shark.
It took half a mind to send him a swift kick under the table, hard enough that a wince made it to his face. Theo grunted, and you smiled.
“I suppose so,” Terry recovered. “Didn’t know I was discussed, though.”
You bit your cheek, trying not to kick Theo again. “Theo’s exaggerating. I only mentioned you were coming, I promise.” You offered Terry an apologetic smile. “Some people just can’t help themselves.”
This time, your shin was the victim, and you held back any signs of pain.
Conversation continued on, thankfully less painful than Theo had first attempted. But an amount of stilting did remain, and more often than not, you felt like you were taking a test rather than going on a date.
When the queue at the counter had shrunk, you decided to order the drinks yourself. You gave Terry a pitying glance as you left, but were glad to be out of that atmosphere. The line, while sizeable, was shorter than you expected, and you were reciting your orders before you knew it.
You might have thought you were free while you waited, but you would be wrong. As you stood at the counter, your drinks being placed in front of you, Theo decided he was not done with this form of torture yet.
“Need help?” he asked, steadying the cup you nearly dropped as a result.
“I’mfine, actually.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Thanks, Theo.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for a second cup just as Theo did. Your fingers met, and you held back a jolt, retracting immediately.
He grabbed the cup as you reached for a different one, walking back to your table before he could pick up the last. You cursed his long legs, however, as they brought him to your side immediately.
“Having fun?” He stepped in front of you, leading the way through the tables with his hands full. Like it was easy.
“That’s a word for it,” you muttered.
“Oh, don’t be so upset. You and Boot have the whole break to spend time with each other. Quality time,” he suggested, and you almost threw both cups at his face.
“I don’t like you.”
“Sure.”
You all but collapsed back into your chair, haphazardly dropping the tea along the way. This stress was killing you, you swore it. “Peppermint, elderberry, and two green.” You gave one of the green teas to Theo, then kept the other for yourself, silently cursing the fact that you had the same order.
Even unknowingly, he was testing you.
Things picked back up quickly enough, and you made it a goal to relax. You wouldn’t let these circumstances stop you from enjoying your date, even if it was all just a ruse. They didn’t know that. Besides, neither Terry nor Daphne was terrible company, and Theo did have his good times, few as they were.
And you would say by the end of your cup that you accomplished that mission; you were smiling, laughing, and the tension moved down to a simmer. What accompanied that ceasefire, however, was more concerning than you liked to admit.
It was the chatter, or the warmth, or maybe the fact that Theo and you drinking green tea under dim light was not an entirely unfamiliar occurrence. Then, you had to remind yourself that there were other, more important parties present, and memories were just that.
But even so, when Daphne made a crack at Snape and the unimaginable amount of grease sitting in his hair, your first reaction was to look towards Theo, checking if he was laughing before anything else.
Moments like those, the shared glances, made that metaphorical dagger dig deep, the tip finding your heart and pressing relentlessly into it.
When you were finished, the pain had grown to a constant, dull ache and you were more than happy to make it out of the shop, the cold air a welcomed respite. You and Theo exited first, and in the minute delay between your party, he rounded on you.
“A Ravenclaw? Seriously?” he sneered, and it was enough of a shock that you flinched back. There was a dichotomy here, between the boy who drank green tea and knocked knees with you under the table, and the one who stood in front of you now.
“Do you ever quit, Theodore?” you snapped.
“We’re back to ‘Theodore’ now?”
“Evidently.”
His mouth shut, and you blamed your eyes watering on the brisk wind that cut through you. You expected a fight, but instead, he shook his head, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck and shoving it into your chest, then stalked away to meet Daphne.
You sighed, guilt building in the base of your throat, though you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. Giving Theo one last glance, you wrapped the scarf around your neck. You truly were freezing.
Terry appeared in front of you, a smile still etched on his face. You did your best to return it, but you feared your attempt was a little more than lacking.
“Alright?” he asked.
You nodded, taking him in. He was cute, just as you had described. Attractive in all the right ways, but something still felt off. But before you could put your finger on it, Terry was pointing up, and you followed his gaze to find the mistletoe hanging above you.
You could have laughed at the sheer irony of the situation. Of course this would be happening right now.
“What do you say?” you offered, because you didn’t have much else to lose. Daphne and Theo were sharing their own conversation of whispers. The stage was practically set for you.
Terry dipped his chin. “Happy Christmas, I guess.” His hand found your side, still painfully careful, and you didn’t need to move far to meet his lips.
Somehow, kissing Terry was entirely like you expected it to be. He moved at your pace, you liked that about him, but there was no urge to deepen it, no temptation. You felt like actors, playing parts that you didn’t quite fit into it.
Terry places one hand on your waist.
You place one hand on his shoulder.
Your eyes close, your lips meet, it is perfect.
But the butterflies, the ones that are supposed to fly around in your stomach, were missing. The adrenaline, the pull that draws you in and in and in, was missing. Instead, when you broke apart, you stayed apart, small smiles your final act.
You took a step back, catching Theo’s eye and wondering just how much he witnessed. You remembered now that this had all been a mistake, and you were naive to ever think otherwise. You lied, this is your punishment.
You averted your gaze quickly, but you knew his remained long after.
—
Thankfully, Terry did the honors of ending the arrangement. It was mutual, but it was still much easier than having to tell him yourself.
You weren’t interested. You probably never were, if you were being honest.
He departed quickly enough, as did Daphne, catching up with her own friends in Hogsmeade. It left just you and Theo, as well as the insurmountable distance between you.
Your hands went to loosen the scarf, but he beat you to it, keeping it in place. You hated that he did that, that he wouldn’t let you save one inch of your pride.
“I’ll walk you back,” he offered, something like regret coloring his voice.
You shook your head. “I’m not going back yet. I might as well do some shopping while I’m here.” You worked at the scarf again, and he stopped you again. “Go back to the castle, Theo. You don’t have to come with me.”
He was different now, his shoulders relaxed, something shifted in his nature. “Idiot. Of course I’m coming with you.”
You almost fought him on it, but thought better of it. You knew what he was worried about, who he was worried about, and you could hardly blame him. It was a collective agreement between your friends that you wouldn’t leave anyone behind or alone. This was just that.
“Alright,” you ceded as you began to walk, “but we’re going to Gladrags.”
Theo groaned, a layer of ice breaking. “I will never understand your fascination with that place. All they’re good for is socks, and those can hardly be called ‘good’.”
You gasped, faux-hurt. “Can hardly be called ‘good’? Are you insane? Gladrags Wizardwear is the peak of magic. You can’t find quality socks like that anywhere these days.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Shut up.”
Despite his initial reluctance, Theo did follow you into Gladrags, past the screaming socks and all. He also followed you to the Magic Neep, Tomes and Scrolls, and every other shop you elected to enter along the way. As promised, he stayed by your side, not willing to leave you alone with the current crowds that filled Hogsmeade.
While the conversation may have gone well in Madam Puddifoot’s, it flowed tenfold better now that it was just you. Once you got past the tension that immediately followed the date (disaster, you thought fit better), you and Theo clicked, just like you always did. Always used to.
The walking, the mindless chatter, the hidden smiles—they broke down walls you didn’t know existed, until verity was the only thing shared between the two of you.
It was while you were pondering this that you nearly ended up getting lost in the bustle. You were exiting Honeydukes, thinking about how you were going to surprise Theo with the Fudge Flies you had just bought him, when you were all but trampled by the oncoming crowd. You were knocked farther into what felt like a sea of people.
“Shit.” You were unmoving in the flow, and it was not looking good for you. You all but screamed when a hand latched onto your wrist, effectively pulling you out of the fray, but you relaxed when you realized it was just Theo.
He was shaking his head. “Idi—”
“Don’t even say it,” you cut him off. He almost retaliated, until you pulled out the box of treats, giving him the brightest smile you could muster. “I bought you something.”
He paused, waited a few moments, had your heart beating in your throat because maybe this was a mistake. But then he smiled back, a tilt more genuine than you were used to seeing on his face. He carefully held the chocolate, then pocketed them safely, murmuring (so low only you would ever hear), “Thank you.”
If he noticed that he was still holding fast to your wrist, he didn’t comment on it. He had grabbed you there before, but only for split seconds, just to ensure you didn’t get separated. Now, however, it felt like more of an indulgence than anything else.
You didn’t mention it, and began pulling him along to the next shop, twisting so you could hold his hand more comfortably. (It was out of necessity.) (You ignored the accompanying flutter in your stomach.)
—
When it was nearing time to return to Hogwarts, the two of you took the longer route back. You almost felt a little bad, having dragged Theo around practically the entirety of Hogsmeade and now refusing any secret passages, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
What he did seem to mind, or so you thought, was his scarf wrapped around your neck. He wouldn’t stop staring at it. Did he want it back? You couldn’t tell. Hesitance defined your actions, as if one wrong move could bring everything crashing down.
You gingerly pulled at the ends, then came to the conclusion that he must want it back.
“Would you stop that?”
You turned to him, confusion decorating your face. This man was so hard to read sometimes. “Stop what?”
Theo sighed, stopping only to tighten the fabric for what felt like the hundredth time. “Taking the scarf off. You’re cold. Wear it.”
“But what if you get cold?”
“I’m not going to get cold.”
“But what if you do?”
“I haven’t yet, have I?”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
He sighed heavily, but amusement played across his eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”
You tried not to think about the feeling that brought you. (And the notable lightness in your chest.) Instead, you simply smiled and held the scarf tighter.
—
You couldn’t lie, there was some amount of disappointment when you arrived at the castle. You had been preparing yourself along the way, preparing to say goodbye to this side of him, and not for the first time.
Theo watched you carefully, you knew he did, and as snow turned to cobblestone (you hated the hidden meaning you found in that), he spoke.
“I’m sorry, by the way. I never did say that.” His tone was gentle, but it held no falseness.
You laughed, if only to take away this seriousness. It was not your favorite look on him. “It was just a joke, Theo. I don’t know why I chose a Ravenclaw either.”
He shook his head. “That’s not—” He paused then, contemplating something else. “Does he make you happy at least?”
The pain, this time, was something akin to heaviness, weighing you down. As if it were Theo resigning himself, not you, and it felt unnatural. “I’m happy, Theo. But not with Terry. We decided we’re better off as friends.”
You stopped just outside the corridor, still feeling the cool wind on your cheeks. Theo wrung his hands, a show of nervousness, and you resisted the urge to grab them, to lend him your stability. When he didn’t speak, you continued, “And you and Daphne? Does she make you happy?”
He smiled. Shook his head. Something was amiss, his grief misplaced. “It’s funny, really.”
“Hmm?”
“How we got here,” he supplied. His eyes were locked on your scarf. “I’m sorry for everything.” He didn’t specify what everything truly encompassed, but you could tell.
“You don’t have to apologize. It is what it is.” You tried to stand strong, to believe it yourself. (It didn’t work.)
It had been years since you appreciated just how tall he was. He got it from his dad, not his mom. You could remember that. Her coffin had been small, petite, and the first thought you had when you saw it was that Theo would never come close to fitting in there. Then you had cursed yourself because that was a picture that went past unforgivable.
There were lots of things to remember about Theo, beyond his tea and beyond his height. And suddenly, warmed by his scarf, his presence, you had the urge to rememorize every one of them.
Slowly, you reached for his hands, letting your wishes get the best of you. You didn’t want him hurting, and his fingers were already freezing. “I miss you,” you said quietly, maybe even hoping he wouldn’t hear.
“I’m right here.”
“No, you’re not,” you said. Because it was the truth. You ached for the friend you lost, for the rivalry that struck up in the absence. You hated that, never him.
The two of you stood there a while, listening as all the echoes dimmed, as it grew too late to stay out any longer. And, only because you were curious, you asked, “Were you jealous? Of Terry?”
Theo smiled, letting the act brighten the space between you. You relaxed. “Maybe. Were you jealous of Daphne?”
“Maybe.” (Yes.)
“She said something, you know. While you and Terry were sticking your tongues—”
“Theo,” you hissed.
He composed himself. “Sorry. While you and Terry were having your moment.” (You couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.) “She said that that was one of the worst dates she’d ever gone on, only because we were too busy with each other to even acknowledge her and Terry.” He laughed, and you found yourself doing the same.
“That’s insane.”
“But not wrong.”
You didn’t deny it.
Comfortable silence encircled you, honed your focus on one person (the boy, of course. The one who drank green tea, and loved chocolates, and who could be a bit of an asshole but only because he couldn’t help himself. Not when it came to you.) It was more than a ceasefire, you thought. It signaled something greater.
When you looked up, you took a moment to appreciate your luck. “A mistletoe,” you pointed out.
Theo tilted his head, disbelieving. “It’s getting cold, you know.”
“It is.”
“But,” he said, “rules are rules.”
You grinned. “Rules are rules.”
The roles, this time, were nonexistent. You were you, Theo was Theo. As it should have been. Both of your hands found his neck, reaching up to him, and he met you halfway. His lips were sweet, not sarcastic, no silver-tongue in sight. He guided you, but let you pick the game.
He tasted like chocolate and tea, and you supposed you tasted the same. His fingers curled into the fabric at your back, pulling you closer and closer (and still not close enough). There was some amount of communication in his actions.
Lean in, break for a breath, but only enough to keep going.
Hold on to what you can. Clothing, hair, skin. Let your nails search for purchase, otherwise you might just float away.
The game is over when you say it’s over, but please don’t call it short.
When you did break away, you didn’t move far, and decided you wanted to share his oxygen for just a little longer.
Theo smiled, all soft angles and warm lips. “You’re brilliant,” he breathed.
You flushed, flat on your feet, wondering what new territory you just discovered. Dimly, you remembered the cold, and pulled Theo inside with you, leaving the ground you just inhabited still prickling with your own sort of magic.
You searched for the nearest fireplace, letting out a sound of relief to finally feel the heat. You unwrapped the scarf, but (like every other time) Theo stopped you.
“Keep it,” he said.
“I have my own.”
“Keep it.” He let you hang the fabric loose, but still around your neck. A piece of him staying close.
There was something else he was hiding, words lingering in the back of his throat, his eyes a calculated prayer, begging for confession. “What?” you asked, gentle.
He weighed his options, took a deep breath, let it out. “To tell you the truth,” he said, smiling when your eyes widened, “I had to beg Daphne to come with me. It was all just to get on your nerves.”
Breathless, you calmed, realizing you were more similar than you thought. “You’re crazy, Theo.” (You still kissed his cheek when they warmed, though.) And then, almost in an exchange: “Can I tell you a secret?”
He leaned in, the action familiar. “Anything.”
You wondered if this was another bad idea, but pushed your doubt away. “There was never a date. Not at first. I only asked Terry out because Blaise set it all up. I barely knew him.”
“So you’re a liar?”
You bit your tongue at the hypocrisy. “Like you’re not. But I wanted to make you jealous, and he fit the description.”
Theo shook his head, chuckling. Mirth glimmered in his eyes. “Can I tell you a secret?”
