every time i read fanfiction in which not only Draco but also Theo has special feelings for Hermione i begin to doubt and mentally argue with myself whom to choosefor her but at the same time i do CLEARLY UNDERSTAND that i will eventually choose Draco anyways.
is it considered OKAY for a true dramione shipper to doubt like that? or is it happening only inside my head… (well tbh there definitely are several stunning Theo’s head canons in it but that’s not the point)
every time i feel so sorry for this little pumpkin… and so freaking happy for ‘eventual-dramione’
here goes the quote everyone-knows-where-Manacled-from:
“I don’t want to choose. I always have to choose, and I never get to choose you.”
this is what i would have told Theo if i could.
***
and i also could not resist… so here you are:
Aesthetic ofTheomione which did-not-have-eventual-happy-ending but they wereandthat should be appreciated.
Happy Birthday to the marvelous @persephonestone. Please accept this smol, jewel-like NottPott set in the pure, solid gold of @annavek94’s incredible art. xoxo ~SM
“So what really happened back there?” Theo’s voice cut through the weed-laced rabbit hole Harry seemed to have slipped down.
Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. “I guess…Sometimes I just get really tired of it?”
Theo nodded.
“It’s like. I get all this attention for something I did when I was a kid, but it’s not really me. It’s not anything I want.” Harry closed his eyes. “I’d give anything to blend in sometimes. And tonight just the thought of getting up there on that stage. Smiling for everyone. I couldn’t do it.” He sighed hugely. Part of him felt like he’d let the entire senior class down.
“It’s not the end of the world.” Theo nudged his shoulder to Harry’s, seemingly reading his mind.
“No, you’re right.” Harry rolled his head over to look at Theo. “You’re right. I just feel an obligation sometimes.”
“To your public?”
Harry snorted. “No.”
“Look. Just, tell everyone you shot too much Jäeger beforehand and felt sick or something. That way your rep stays intact.” Theo waved a lazy hand in the air and Harry started laughing—laughing in a way that let him know he was really high and may not stop laughing anytime soon.
It felt good.
“Like I care about my rep,” he finally gasped.
“No? Captain Wholesome lacrosse champion? Most popular boy in school? Would-be Prom King?”
“No,” Harry nudged Theo back. “No. I’m telling you I don’t care about that. And why do you keep bringing up lacrosse?”
“I enjoy the game.”
“You do not.”
“All right, I enjoy the players.” Theo raised a brow and Harry started laughing again.
“Truth comes out. Is that why you’re always waiting for Draco after practice?”
“Maybe.” Theo smirked. “You don’t seem bothered.”
“I’m not.” Harry stilled and kept Theo’s gaze. Theo pulled the joint and lighter out of his pocket, lit the joint again and took a light drag.
“What is it about you, Potter?” He squinted at Harry as he exhaled. “Other than my weakness for varsity athletes?”
Yaaaaassss!!!
Please people, go and read this fic, because your heart needs a little bit of NottPott, we know that much! I take the chance to wish a happy birthday to @persephonestone who I don’t even know (but it doesn’t really matter, the best of wishes all the same), but thanks to I got to collaborate with @scullymurphy on this piece. I have loved every minute of our interactions and how the artwork was specifically shaped around your fic “Prom Kings”, which I adored. Well done and happy days
(I uploaded an older version of just this Draco here a few months ago, but it was originally going to be them both, and picking up from a half-finished WIP ended up being the perfect way to come back from a busy-ness induced drawing slump.)
Next will be a matching Hermione and Ginny, and then I promise so much more Dramione for your patience!
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!
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?”
It took Draco a few moments to realize that he could see her face clearly, signaling that his eyesight was back, and even though it had only been mere months he felt like he was seeing her clearly for the first time in years.
“She will talk like a pureblood, act like a pureblood, understand pureblood traditions better than a pureblood. By the time she reaches Hogwarts, no one will question her.” After the death of James and Lily, Sirius and Hermione become a sleeper cell, determined to take down the Death Eaters from the inside.
In first place, yes, I know I’m crazy, but I’m absolutely in love with this little universe I created, so here is one more story, I mean not really in the MSB Universe. These are the ‘What If’ Stores
NottPott for Pride month ️. Why do I just imagine Theo continually dropping suggestive innuendos around Harry until he gets the hint (which takes a long time hahaha)
