Theodore X You - Tumblr Posts

.·:*⋄𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕⋄*:·.

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟:☀︎︎ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭:☾︎ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭:ꨄ︎

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

᪥𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠᪥

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑾𝒂𝒎𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑰𝒔 𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ☀︎︎

ఌ︎Summary: (Name) has had a long mission with Steve, and then finally being allowed to sleep, she realized two things. One, the room seemed to be colder than a freezer. Two, it's only one bed.

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☀︎︎ ☾︎

ఌ︎Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

᪥𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑡᪥

𝑺𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒇 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 ☀︎︎ ☾︎

ఌ︎Summary: Theodore ends you friendship over a rumor spred by Rita Skita.

𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰𝒏𝒌 ☀︎︎

ఌ︎Summary: She tries to confess by a letter, but it didn't turn out as she though it would.

𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 ☀︎︎ ☾︎

ఌ︎Summary: Theodore is lonelier than ever, especially after receiving the dark mark. So he tries to find peace in new things. Like Choirs.

𝑼𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒆 ☀︎︎ ꨄ︎

ఌ︎Summary: Theodore and her venture down a path they'd never stepped upon. Because of Theodore's insatiable desire and her new night dress.

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

᪥𝑋𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑝𝑒᪥

𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒈𝒆 ☀︎︎ ☾︎

ఌ︎Summary: (Name) is in love with Xavier, but can't be sure about his feelings and therefore does nothing. Until the Poe cup, where Xavier desires to make her mind a mess.

━───────⊹⊱✙⊰⊹───────━

𝑴𝒚 𝑵𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Theodore Nott x reader

Catagory: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of wounds and blood. Booth of them are complete dumbasses. Reader is a tiny bit sensitive, but rightfully so.

Summary: Theodore is lonelier than ever, especially after receiving the dark mark. So he tries to find peace in new things. Like Choirs.

Words: 7.2 k

OBS! I gave reader a last name. Oak, but her first name is still your own but just so everyone knows

A/N: Uh, it's long. I don't know if I love it or hate it, but I'm also really tired so I don't have the energy to think. But also, what writers like what they write? So here you go.

(I'm not religious, but god seriously has his favorites)

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

His room couldn't contain the warmth that it used to hold during the summer. The fire from his fireplace couldn't keep up with the autumn's chill breezes and cold rains. The heat easily simmered out through the cracks of the old windows, leaving Theodore with stale fingers and cold toes.

On a normal day, he might've complained. When he was younger, he used to despise the cold, always missing the summer rays during the quiet winter. But now? He wasn't sure that he disliked it anymore. The chill air became the only thing that understood the echoing emptiness in his chest.

"I'm joining the Choir." He said absentmindedly. A quick decision he took during the dark hours layered itself with pity and sadness.

"That's rash. I thought you hated Choirs." Blaise mumbled from his seat on the carpeted floor.

Theodore shifted in his soft duvets." I don't hate them, I just don't understand the point of it."

Blaze's face scrunched in confusion and he looked away from his book to watch the other young man mindlessly play with the corners of his sheets." Then why are you joining one?"

Theodore only sighed. He didn't intend to answer Blaise. He wouldn't understand. Blaise had yet to receive the itching curse on his wrist and therefore hadn't been tied to bad things for the rest of his life. Or perhaps, Theodore had become selfish during the quiet days of his suffering.

"Well, I don't care if join or not, but maybe keep it quiet from Draco... and the others." Theodore hummed absentmindedly. If Malfoy would ever find out about Theodore joining something so 'muggly' as a choir, he would stuff Theo in a box and send him straight to the doorstep of Voldermort.

"I know."

Blaize looked at Theodore for any reaction but turned his attention to the book in his lap when Theo only continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Have you packed? We're leaving in two days." He easily rerouted the conversation.

--

The smell of food made Theodore sick to his stomach. Before he left, he hoped that his appetite would return when the warm food that the elves of Hogwarts made entered his nostrils, but his hopes were all in despair.

Classes had been going on for six days and focusing had already been proven to be a task.

Professor Flitwick stopped him in the corridor the earlier day to speak to him about the request for joining his 'Frog choir', as it was called. Professor Flitwick had thought that it was a mere prank. So Theodore stood in the corridor for 10 minutes explaining to the professor that he didn't pull a prank on him.

And now, he sat by the lunch table, idly waiting for the clock to tick to its designated hour. The choir lesson. He had been asked by Blaise at the beginning of the lunch if he were alright, and he had lied with a clump of nerves stuck in his throat.

He wished to believe his nerves only existed to tease him. But his nerves seemed to be right, for it seemed that wherever he went, eyes followed him. Whether it was Draco, who always appeared to be in the same room as Theodore. Or Professor Snape, that read over his shoulder whenever they had positions class.

Theodore shook his head, a small pain making its way into his head. He stood up, and curious glances was thrown his way.

"Why haven't you eaten? You always eat?" Lorenzo asked with his arms tied behind his head. Only for a second, Theodore stiffen.

"Must've eaten something bad yesterday." He barely mumbled before quietly gliding out of the grand Hall.

--

Her eyes shot up from her note page when the door slammed open. The murmur carried throughout the dark and dusty classroom came to halt, and (Name) eyed Theodore Nott suspiciously when he strode into the room. Professor Flitwick tapped his wand against the podium he stood by, effectively gaining everyone's attention again.

"Oh!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed when he saw the tall boy standing by the entrance. "I seem to have forgotten to inform you. This term, Mr. Nott here will join us."

She didn't feel good about a new person joining the choir. Especially not him. The boys from Slytherin had never been nice, and in her luck, she hadn't been the object of their harassment. Which is probably something that she should thank Harry Potter for. But didn't mean that she was entirely safe from their harassment.

If he decided she were to be his next target, it made sense. Not many people knew about her. The students didn't blink an eye when she walked by, and the teachers barely knew her name.

She never believed herself to be quiet or shy. But the lack of attention she received left her believing that she needed to be more interesting to speak to for them to enjoy her company. They thought she didn't want to go with them, so they excluded her from their plans.

It made her think, maybe being interesting didn't belong in her nature.

"Have you ever been in a choir before Mr. Nott?" The professor asked.

He timidly shook his head, and briefly wondered where his old, confident self went. "No Professor."

Professor Flitwick gave him a nod before taking a glance over his small class.

"Well then, grab your notes from the table, and then Miss Oak will help you."

Theodore looked around after this 'Miss Oak', and he believed the young lady looking at Professor Flitwick with eyes popping out of her skull would be the girl that the Professor inquired about.

The old paper felt scratchy in his hand when he grabbed the note-filled sheets, and his body heavily trudged to stand by Miss Oak. She didn't say anything, nor did she look at him when he placed himself beside her.

She tried to not pay attention to the boy on her side, but it became a problem since he radiated off his body heat by how close he stood. Perhaps, she should have offered him her help with the notes. But after a while, it seemed he figured it out and she relaxed at the thought of not needing to interact with him.

The lesson came to an end and she wasted no time packing her things so she could catch the Professor before he turned to the next class to teach.

The rest of the students filed out quickly, and to her luck, the professor didn't.

"Professor Flitwick?" She asked.

He turned around and smiled. "Yes dear, what can I help you with?" He answered, before once again turning back to collect the remaining papers.

"I was wondering if you maybe could have someone else help Mr. Nott with his notes." She stood tall and spoke calmly when the professor turned his full attention to the girl. But inside her, a turmoil of emotion rolled around, making her dizzy and anxious.

"Why is that?" She swallowed when his calculated gaze met hers and tried her best not to tear eye contact.

"Well, because I'm afraid that helping him might disturb the focus on my studies." A small humorous scoff sounded through the room, and Professor Flitwick continued to track down the classroom with (name) hot on his tail.

"I must say that I believe that you are wrong." He started, and (name)'s eyebrows scurried together." I think that you need to socialize yourself, to meet new people. Mr. Nott is a kind young man, who I think will get along great with you."

A sigh of descent escaped her, and she trudged out of the classroom in defeat, beginning the lonely track toward her next class. Which unfortunately for her would be divination.

--

Theodore is an utterly and completely helpless man. He'd met the girl once, one smell, one touch, and he dared never stop thinking about her. The realization had almost knocked him off his chair, for wherever he went, his brain lost control over his eyes and they began to wander, searching after the girl.

For the next Choir class, he made sure to be late again, only so that he could guarantee a second of attention from her. Flitwick had come to warn him about bad habits, but why care? Theodore didn't know. For her eyes flickered to his, and only for a second, the mark on his arm didn't burn his skin.

He slowly walked towards his self-chosen place by her side and didn't let his eyes leave her once. She radiated with caution and apprehension, but Theodore didn't incline to stop staring. At least not until she showed signs of being even mildly uncomfortable.

Her eyes scanned the notes of the Christmas Carol more than she could count as an attempt to not give in to his staring. Because even though she felt tempted to stare at his angel-like face, a fear still presented itself in the back of her mind.

She winced as the floorboards creaked at her nervous shuffle, and once again, felt herself becoming the attention of Theodore's eyes. He opened his mouth, and she made herself ready for anything that could leave his mouth.

"Oh, buggers. I seemed to have forgotten my papers." (Name) watched carefully when the professor rummages through his bag, hoping that his papers are there so he doesn't leave the classroom, risking that someone with dark hair and brown eyes will start a conversation with her.

But to her downfall, Professor Flitwick quickly announced that he would be back soon, and no one had the time to blink before he walked away.

She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and took a breath through her nose.

"Nervous?" He asked, fully aware that she had been shuffling around and taking unnecessarily deep breaths ever since he situated himself on her side.

"No." She answered, too fast for her liking, before quickly focusing on her paper again.

Theodore wanted to sigh in disappointment when she wasn't up for a conversation, and at the same time felt a stream of pettiness run through his fingertips.

He clenched his pale fist in frustration and looked away. A gust of air passed his lips in a desperate attempt to not let his hopes sink. To be so obsessed with a person in such a so short time felt strange. So strange he started to suspect that a love potion had been involved. But the way she shut herself away from him, he supposed that it would be strange for her to pour a love potion into his drink.

Professor Flitwick's footsteps were loud before he came in sight, and Theodore cursed his chance when it faded into nothing.

But on the other hand, it could turn out to be for the best. He knew that the capability of making a fool out of himself lingered.

Professor seemed to have noticed the shift of emotions on Theodore's face.

"Are you alright, Mr. Nott, you seem to be a bit pale over there?" He wanted to laugh at the coincidence.

"I'm alright, Professor." He answered politely, gently clearing his throat as he tried to brush off the awkwardness of the professor's notice.

But oh to be held, he took notice of a small, inconvenient, soft laugh. His head snapped towards her when he heard who it came from, and she quickly covered it up with a cough and a small apology.

He scoffed quietly, and she pursed her lips as he looked away.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Flitwick asked, and a chorus of positive answers echoed in the hall. And with four flicks of his wand, the choir let their voices out. At first, Theodore believed that no one in this room had sung in a choir. The different voices jumbled together, but it seemed that after just a countable second, the different voices blended into an angel melody.

He could hear her voice perfectly, and he never wanted to have no one else singing in his ear, quite literally. And he let himself bask in the warmth of her tone until a crack reaches the surface. He cringe at the miss of a note in (Name)'s voice, and she did the same.

Theodore struggled to cover up the small chuckles that escaped his mouth, and he blushed in shame to be laughing at her. She didn't seem to mind or hear him. Her face bore a confused scowl, making a wrinkle appear between her eyebrows. Suddenly he felt himself wanting to reach out, to smooth the area out with his thumb. But it would've been ridiculous if he did, possibly ruining all his chances with her in the world.

The harmonious tune took an end, and a murmur broke out, asking each other for the right notes and laughing at each other's wrongs. Theodore listened in curiosity as she hummed the same part over and over again, still getting the same note wrong even though she tries.

"It's an f-sharp, not f." He instructed, and she paused. Patiently waiting for her answer, Theodore hummed the tune for her, showing the correct way. Before the tune ended, he looked towards her to make sure that she was listening, and met her eyes. Theodore felt his heart drum against his sensitive ribs when she watched him with idle eyes.

When it once again took to an end, Theodore masked his madness with raised eyebrows and a look in his eyes, that asked her if she understood.

The eye contact broke as she looked away.

"I knew that, I'd just forgotten." She explained, and the left corner of his mouth rose.

"Sure you did." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he feared he'd taken it too far, for he didn't know her limits, how much she would be able to take nor how sensitive she might be.

But his fear easily melted away when he saw the slightest twitch of her lips.

--

For the first time in a long time, she left the classroom with a content look on her face. The conversation that appeared, is something that she had missed happening. Like an old conversation with the rain.

And she almost wished that her next Choir lesson would be today so that she had someone to talk to again. But it was albeit a bit intimidating. She is afraid that if she spoke too much, or shares too many feelings, he would get bored of talking with her. And she wouldn't have a potential friend anymore.

She sighed at her overcalculating thoughts and decided that she would keep basking in his attention as long as it would last.

Until her Transfiguration class with professor McGonagall the next day. Usually, she was fully aware of where everyone was so she could sit alone and not risk getting a desk friend. As said, except for today. Maybe it was to blame on the bad night's sleep, but she hadn't given a second thought about where she sat down.

And once again, Theodore stormed into the class, ten minutes late. He didn't apologize for being late, instead, he took the closest empty seat he could find and sat down.

(Name) could feel the looks from the rest of the Slytherins when Theodore sat beside her and she straightened her spine and directed her eyes forwards again, not wanting to pay attention to them.

"Fashionably late, as usual, Mr. Nott?" McGonagall questioned, amusement in her tone, but stone-set face.

"Sorry, Professor." He mumbled, and McGonagall nodded, intending to start the lesson again.

Theodore could feel the burning gazes of his friends as he opened up his book. At first, he didn't intend to give the bloodsuckers their craved attention, because he knew what it would an about, and he was also well aware of who he was sitting next to.

But he could hear Blaise whispering his name, and he still didn't want to seem rude, so he turned in his chair, and was met by the eyes of his Slytherin classmates. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, before nodding his head towards (Name).

Theodore knew exactly what he enclined and shrugged. His friends didn't need to know everything, and he didn't need to be around them every minute of the day.

A warm feeling, but strange occupied her chest when Theodore turned back, a half smile on his pink lips and relaxed eyes looking upon her.

And she wanted to beat the butterflies in her stomach with a stick.

During the lesson, there were not many words exchanged between them, and at first, it was a maladroit pressure on (Name)s chest to say something or to make him, anything of the sort. But she realized quite soon that she didn't need to speak, for it was both comforting and nice to have him sitting beside her, carefree of what was around him as he wrote on his parchments.

She hoped and prayed to merlin that it would stay like this and that it wasn't just a fortunate stroke of serendipity.

--

Something changed with him. She could both see and feel it, and never had she doubted her senses when she felt as if something was wrong.

In their choir lesson, he acted differently against his usual sarcastic but nice persona, which would help her if she was wrong, or speak to her about professor Flitwick's ridiculous beard.

But today he acted strange, only chuckling at her when she did wrong, and when helping her, he sounded up stuck.

He was almost being competitive.

And it was onerous, and burdensome to have such an enthralling person seeing you as a competition. Especially when she was aware that he was more sharp-minded, wittier, and more ambitious than she could ever wish to be.

So therefore she tried to ignore it, playing it off as if had a bed day instead so that she could protect her feelings.

But it only continued and got worse too.

She was slouching in a chair, wand in hand as she tried the same spell over and over again, but the pair of dice weren't even close to becoming chocolate pralines with passion fruit filling. Theodore had gotten it multiple times and embarrassment was beginning to crawl over her cheeks in the form of warmth.

She flicks her wand once more, and when she finally thinks that she has succeeded, she is disappointed to only see a small patch of melted chocolate. A deflected sigh left her lips, and her body slouched even more in her seat.

A chuckle rang out from the side of her, and she bit the inside of her cheek in anticipation of what he was going to say.

"It's going well I see." He remarked, and (Name) felt her ears getting hot from his sudden attention.

"No, obviously not." She mumbled.

"What am I doing wrong?" The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, but Theodore answered it anyway.

"That, you have to figure out yourself Oak." He scoffed, moving out of his wooden seat and gently picking the pralines up to place them in his palm.

"Because, unlike others, I do have pralines instead of..." he looked quizzically, but in amusement at the chocolate mush on her table. "... that."

(Name)'s face scrunched as she listened to his almost berating words that were thrown, and was about to say something but he had already started walking up to McGonagall with his paper and sweets. She took a long, calculating glance at them, and then nodded, permitting him to leave the classroom.

And he did just so, collecting his books and taking a last glance at the frustrated witch before making his way.

It left (Name) in hassle. The way that Theodore's behavior changed so quickly, and so out of context. But perhaps she's the one to blame. The hope in her heart maybe made her think that he was the nicest out of them all, that he wanted to be her friend. Perhaps -one day- to be even more. She realized that it is her younger self talking through, the child that didn't wish for anything but true love.

She decided that it was a naive thought, and hastily closed her book before walking away from the class.

The next time it happened, it was during choir. (Name) did try her best to stay civil and rational, but how could she do that when Theodore was somehow effectively getting on her last nerves? And she was usually a calm, down-to-earth person.

"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong, I sing it exactly like everyone else." She argued exasperated as she glared at monstrous holes in the side of Theodore's head. She found it strange that he could get on her nerves so easily, even if his presence were able to make her knees weak.

"You're not singing it like like everyone else, sweety." The nickname threw her off immediately, and she felt ashamed as she spluttered out excuses and arguments against it, trying to act as repulsive as possible.

"Mr. Nott and Ms. Oak, interested in sharing your conversation with the class." Professor Flitwick interrupted, and both Theodore and (Name) realized that the room was almost completely quiet, and cringed in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Professor. But I just have a question." Theodore started, holding one of his fingers in the air as he threw a side glance towards the girl on his side, who was watching him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"But could you just tell me how this part goes one more time?" He asked, with patronize dripping from his voice like sweet, sticky honey.

The sour face that Flitwick carried quickly morphed into a lighter one.

"Why of course." His older voice rang out the words perfectly, and (Name) shrank into herself as the realization hit her that she did indeed sing wrong. Shame crept up on her from behind, and it was humbling when it came to her that Theodore, who had only been participating for two weeks, already seemed to be more intelligent and cunning than her.

"I won." (Name) didn't look at him, didn't say anything back as a strange, unknown emotion buried itself in her mind. She couldn't decide if it was jealousy, or if she was being hurt by his actions. It didn't make sense for her as to why he would need to be so right, and to mortify her like that, just to illustrate a point. Or maybe she was just being sensitive.

But right now, she didn't believe that he ever wanted to be her friend. That this was just an act to maybe relieve himself of stress, to have someone that he could compete against, knowing that he would win. It could also have something to do with power, that he felt out of control and needed something that he could manipulate. It would make sense, she supposed. (But did it though. Why would he pick her of all people to mess with? She hadn't done anything to him.)

As every single afternoon after choir, she trudged towards her house, lining up for the common rooms, more specifically, the comfort and consoling of her bed.

When she entered, it was pleasing to find that it was only one person present in the dormitory, and she hopefully could rest peacefully during the entire evening and night, and for once wake up with a good night's sleep and possibly a better mood.

Though she would be missing dinner, sacrifices were made and if it would guarantee sleep, she felt confident in taking that risk.

And with the last thought that maybe, she would just have to ignore Theodore if he continued with his confusing advances. Even if it meant that he wouldn't become her friend. And she fell asleep. A deep, undisturbed, peaceful sleep.

The next morning, she felt as fresh as the morning dew on her favorite flower. Nothing could ruin her mood was the famous words, but she truly felt it today. The day began with Magic of the Dark Arts, which she sure wasn't the brightest when it came to that class. But after that, she would practice quidditch, and then she would be able to find a dark corner in the library and bury her nose in a book, possibly one about the magical creatures of the north. It sounded interesting enough. (And who would she be to say no to new information and facts?)

--

As usual, dark arts sucked all the energy out of her eyes and brain but were lucky enough when the energy returned after the intense quidditch practice. The shower she took softened her stiff and sore limbs, and the grime and dirt watched down the drain slowly as she massaged her body with her flower-scented soap bar. It was almost a luxurious feeling.

Her robes had also been washed, which ended up with her smelling like a spring field and newly washed linen. It was something that oddly enough boosted her confidence.

The corridors were fairly empty as she began her quite a long walk towards the library. It was nice, the only thing echoing in the corridors bring the whining wind that carried new crystalizing snowflakes to the ground.

She turned corner after corner, walking by the great hall and resuming towards the moving stairs. But as she turned a corner, she stopped. Not voluntarily, but her body seemed to have control over her mind.

Lit by the flames of the corridor, was Theodore, sitting on the dusty stone floor and leaning against the wall with one of his legs stretched out before him, and the other bent towards his stomach. He didn't see her, for his head rested against the knee of his bent leg, and one of his arms clutched the side of his stomach. Almost as if he felt pain. She stood awkwardly and silently, waiting for him to notice her.

It went against what she promised yesterday night, that she wouldn't interact with, nor acknowledge his actuality. But her promises seemed to become empty every time they circled the Brunett.

So she gently cleared her throat and that seemed to do it for Theodore's head snapped towards her, his face showing that he became startled. But that wasn't the only thing that his face showed.

(Name)'s brows gently furrowed as she scanned his face. His left eye was bruised, along with his sharp cheekbone, and blood continued to drip from his nose, messily running down his lips and over his jaw.

"My my, what do we have here?" The surprised face that he carried slowly turned into a teasing smirk, but she found it easy to look past his confidence to know that it was all a mask, a trick to not let her see him in a state of weakness.

"By Merlin's beard, who did this to you?" she knelt by him to get a closer look at his face.

Theodore hoped that it didn't show, but his face had begun to heat up as her big, concerned eyes stretched over his face.

His heart beat faster, and his own brown eyes got stuck on her face, more exactly on her lips. He didn't want to stare, he didn't want to make it obvious but he had no power over his brain at all.

"Malfoy and Crabe. Maybe Goyle too. Don't remember." He said, shaking his head as he smiled with tired eyes. It was a wonder that he was still sitting up, especially after the hard kick that Crabe had delivered to his stomach.

"Why would they beat you? I thought you were friends?" She questioned, staring intently at a particular wound by his eye that looked like it surely needed medical attention sooner or later.

"I wouldn't say friends, merely acquaintances." He chuckled lightly before he shifted and turned serious." And they were saying impolite things, about someone-someone that I-" He stopped himself and pursed his lips." someone that I guess I care for." He forced that part out as if he had trouble saying it out loud. It probably contributed to the vulnerability, and it had probably torn on his ego to get beaten.

And that's why (Name) didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't usually someone to care about someone's ego, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

She pursed her lips and stretched her legs which created an obnoxious sound in her knees before she stretched her hand towards him.

"What?" He asked skeptically.

"If you want, I can help with your wounds and the swelling." Theodore still looked doubtful, so she sighed and lightly rolled her eyes at his mistrust. "Don't worry, my mother used to work as a doctor back in a muggle hospital and has taught me much, so you can trust me."

Theodore seemed to relax at that and slowly grabbed her hand with a steady grip. It was an odd feeling, to have his hand in hers. It felt different than she thought it would. Instead of the cold, rough skin that she expected, it became a surprise when a warm hand with soft skin latched onto hers instead.

With a strong arm, she pulled Theodore up to his feet and she could hear a small groan leave him as he used his power and might to get up.

His face twisted in pain for a second and (Name) stretched her arm forwards when he almost fell against the wall again. Bit Theodore seemed to collect his strength with a big breath before standing straight, wincing slightly as his probably bruised ribcage stretched.

He must've felt her nervous gaze because he looked down at her with a reassuring face and said "I'm alright."

They began to track down the corridors.

They choose to walk to Theodore's room instead of (Name)'s, since he had a single room all by himself, and also because the girls wouldn't be too fond of finding Theodore in the girl's dormitory. They slowly descended the marble stairs that led to the dungeons, both of them walking much slower than before because of the pain in Theodore's stomach.

"Are you sure that we shouldn't go to madame Pomfrey instead?" (Name) asked for the third time as she heard the heavy breathing that came from Theodore, but he once again shook his head in denial.

"I'm fine, promise." He tried to persuade her, but she didn't feel fooled.

"No, I don't believe that you're fine." She argued and stopped in the middle of the stairs in protest of his hardheadedness. And when he noticed that she wasn't by his side, he stopped too and leaned against the wooden stair railing

"Please." His face showed only pleading, and the foreign display of emotion made her desire to fall to her knees for him right then and there, to take him in her arms and baby him for the rest of his life. It scared her to know that the smallest display of weakness that Theodore showed could manipulate her into doing anything. But it would be inevitable to avoid him because of such a -what she thought was- unimportant cause.

"Alright, but at least let me help you walk." She requested almost timidly, afraid that he would protest. But to her delight he nodded, so she walked to him and took his arm over her shoulder before circling her own around his slim waist, and then with all her power, she took a part of his weight onto her shoulders before they began to move, slowly limping to the edge of the old stairs before they walked down the dark dungeon to the entrance of the Slytherin house.

When they stopped in front of the dark wooden door, (Name) turned to look at Theodore for him to understand that she couldn't say the password since she didn't know it.

His cheeks pinked as he realized and he cleared his throat. "Pureblood." She would be flattered by the fact that he dared to say it loud in front of her, apparently trusting her with the password, if it weren't for the fact that her face scrunched in dislike at the password. She didn't say anything about it.

Theodore seemed to gather strength and nearly pulled her with him as he tried to cross the common room as fast as he could, like his injuries suddenly didn't hurt anymore.

(Name) wanted to stop and gape at the Slytherin common room. The first thing that stood out was the large windows on the opposite side, which allowed a view into the depths of the dark lake that you couldn't get anywhere else. There were also small desks placed against the walls and two round tables on the stone floor. And in the middle two black leathered couches took place in front of a hefty fireplace in the wall. By the thought of walls, (Name) turned her eyes up, and there she saw the stone decorations that had been carved into fetching eye-catching glamors.

Theodore pulled harsher at her arm when she slowed down, and she grumbled as he stressed her towards a high-roof corridor, that had another big window by the end that was framed by long green curtains. She believed it to be strange since the corridor wasn't parted into girls or boys as it was in hers. And there were also arguably more than two doors on the walls.

She counted every door they walked past, and ended up with the number 16 when they stopped between the last pair of doors. The door they were facing had two familiar letters engraved on them. T.N, and had been filled in with silver which she believed fitted him well.

Her free hand grabbed the handle and twisted, opening the door into his dark room. Then she stumbled inside. Her body had become tired from carrying Theodore the length of the stairs and corridors, so she walked towards his made bed and gently sat him down before closing the door. And then rolled her shoulders to leverage the pain.

She tried to look around for some kind of lighter or anything that she could use to gain sight. But it turned out to not be needed when all the candles lit up by the flick of Theodore's hand. And also a small fireplace in the corner that cast a warm hue over the room.

"Medical kit is in the top drawer." Theodore's voice was pained, and it made her hurry to the place he pointed so she could get working on his wounds. It was scary to have him sitting there in pain, labored breathing and his expression tight as he attempted not to show his discomfort. A particularly loud groan made her turn around from the desk where the medical things lay.

Theodore was now leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and teeth clenched. And she wondered how he persuaded her into keeping him away from Madame Pomfrey. She also regretted offering her help to heal him in the first place, since the injuries now seemed to be beyond her expertise. His face showed nothing but discomfort and (Name) started to feel nervous. Her medical skills were good but by how Theodore looked at the moment, she seriously started to doubt her skills.

But she didn't say anything and took a cotton pad soaked in anti-bacterial and plasters to cover the wounds with.

When she stood by the edge of the bed she concluded that she would not be able to reach him when he leaned back as he did, and gently poked at his arm to gain his attention." I can't reach you, you need to sit up."

He hummed lowly, (Name) almost missing the sound before he slowly dragged himself to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side.

She didn't hesitate then and positioned herself between his legs before slowly cleaning both around in the open cuts on his temple and lip that she discovered after wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose.

The position they were in made (Name) almost dizzy with nerves, and she longed to get closer. But it was only longing and she didn't dare to do anything about it and therefore stayed at an arm's length. The new feelings made her weak. Made her feel vulnerable, and that too was scary. Extremely scary.

He suddenly hissed as she slipped with her hands. It didn't take a second before an unusual amount of guilt in her chest.

"I'm sorry, I lost focus."

He nodded. A way of showing that it is okay. But his jaw still clenched when she proceeded with the plasters.

"I need to look at your stomach too." There was quiet as she stood in front of him, waiting for him to raise his shirt. But he didn't seem to be compliant. "I only need to check for anything broken."

He seemed to let down his guard when she added the reason, and her body warmed in shame when she understood that Theodore thought she wanted to see his bare skin.

Also because Theodore had started to lift his shirt, revealing his bare skin to her. She felt almost flattered that he trusted her enough to undress like this. But she knew he didn't have much of a choice.

"Lay down please." He once again did as she said, and slowly leaned into his bed, stretching his upper body when his back hit the mattress. It was quiet in the room, the only thing that you could hear being Theodore's uneven breathing and (Name)'s airy gasp when her eyes landed on his bruised ribs.

"By Merlin, what did they do to you?" she asked him while she took a closer look. The left side of his ribcage had been beaten to the point where the bruises turned yellow and green instead of blue and purple.

"What? What is it?" he moved his hand toward the bruises, trying to feel after the thing that had gotten her stunned but she quickly grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't cause himself any unnecessary pain. Especially not when she had already made him feel enough pain for the rest of her life.

She swallowed and rested Theodore's hand by his side. He stared at her tensely as she brought her hand up, letting it float over his ribcage. This time, his entire body unknowingly tensed as he waited for the pain that would come when she laid her hand on him. But she never did. Instead, she closed her eyes.

Warmth flowed in waves from the palm of her hand and Theodore's body began to slowly un-tense.

Theodore would trust her with his own worthless life if it came to it, and it wasn't why he felt so on edge. To have her fingers, her flesh so close to his own given his heart something to work for and his brain something to think of. And if he weren't in such agony, he would've begged her to touch him. To lay her warm palm upon his beaten skin, to kiss it, to caress it.

His pathetic thoughts were happily interrupted as the pads of her finger accidentally made contact with his sternum, and a delighted shiver crawled its way over his body.

"Sorry." She apologized, thinking that she had caused him pain.

"It didn't hurt." She looked at him with an unbelieving frown, a frown that made his tongue twist when he tried to stutter an answer.

"Or it does hurt, but your touch... doesn't hurt." She barely heard the last part. Barely, but she still did. Her body heat skyrocketed, and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide her flustered expression, and also to stop the dancing butterflies that made their way up her throat.

He didn't know what came over him at that moment, but a sudden urge to tell her everything limped its way into his mind. It was a long time since he felt this vulnerable and was okay with it. An old memory of him as a child in his mother's arms flashed before his eyes, but he quickly locked it away once more.

But he bit his tongue.

He was sure that she thought he looked pathetic. Here he lay, half-naked, beaten bloodied with tears in his eyes and a frown on his face. He didn't know if he enjoyed the thought or not, because while he enjoyed being vulnerable for you, he still didn't want you to think he was weak because of the touch of the woman he had been obsessing over.

"You must care for this person, hm?" She awkwardly laughed as she smoothly changed the subject. She didn't want to know who he fought for, nor why he did it. But it started getting harder and harder for her to keep to the promise she made herself. To keep him at a distance. Both physically and emotionally.

Theodore didn't have time to answer, both because he was overthrown by the complete change of conversation, but also because she spoke again before he even opened his mouth.

"Who is it anyway. I honestly didn't know you could care about someone that much." She joked harmlessly, but the comment made his mouth feel like paper.

"You."

She stopped her magic, fingers retracting into her palm and her head snapped up to meet his eyes, to see if he lied. But she saw only honesty. No side smirk, no crinkle by his eyes, no pursing lips as a way to hide a mischievous smile.

His eyes were peering at her through his lashes, innocent, brown eyes.

"What- What do you mean?"She carefully asked, knowing exactly what he meant. But she needed confirmation.

"It was you who they spoke ill about." He murmured, staring into the abyss of her eyes. Her body burned like it was on fire because of the nerves that he created within her. And she wanted to look away so that she could catch her breath but she deemed it impossible.

A glaze was cast over his eyes, a glaze containing something akin to admiration.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The question slipped before she could think about stopping it.

Once more, he didn't say anything. But she could feel how he moved. His arm slowly encircled her and the other hand, he raised to her cheek. His fingers danced along her cheekbone, spreading a fire on her skin that she didn't know to be possible until now.

But the moment changed, as did the energy in the room as he carefully leaned closer with big, hopeful eyes. She stood frozen, one part not believing what was about to happen and the other knowing that if she valued herself, she would have to remove herself right now.

Before he took the next step, she pulled her face away.

Deep in her gut, there was a sour scorching feeling that began to spread like poisoning, killing all happiness that was present before and taking the form of angry tears in her eyes. It was unfair, how he could treat her however he liked, be as awful as he wished. And still have her here, sitting in his sheets and bandaging him with gentle hands.

It was unfair.

"You are so contradicting Theodore." Tears were stuck in her voice and she quickly raised from the bed. She didn't want him to see that she was hurting.

"What?" There was a pang in her heart. He sounded small, like a wounded animal.

"You are mean Theodore." She started, turning around to look at him." At first, you treated me like an equal, like a friend. Until you didn't."

He couldn't meet her eyes anymore, regret eating its way from his heart to his skin. She sniffled and cleared her throat when it became harder to keep her tears at bay.

"I thought that I'd done something to make you hate me, and I was sure you did. But then you kept insisting to sit by me, or to be around me and I couldn't understand." Her voice became small, and her tears became uncontrollable. The embarrassment of sobbing in front of him made her stomach churn, and all she wanted was to shrink into herself. She wanted him to laugh at her, to mock her so that she could get over it and move on.

But that wasn't what Theodore wanted at all. He made her feel hated by him when all he wanted was to be loved by her. And he now felt adamant to change that.

However, it's hard when he slowly crumbles as her tears continue to fall.

"I'm sorry."

And he needs to go to her. So he raises himself off the soft bed and limps toward her. But before he gets too close she turns her back on him, hiding from his fierce gaze. He sighed, saddened by her shyness, the one that had worked hard to get through, only to mess it up either way.

She wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head to the floor when her sobbing turned into hulking and gasps for air. That was when she felt something different. Theodore had enclosed his hands on her upper arms from behind, giving them gentle caresses with his thumbs. And once more, the caresses spread the wildfire. Her body warmed and her breathing calmed as if the comfort worked.

She didn't know why she doubted that his comfort would work in the first place. Maybe because she wanted to think that he wasn't anything special to her. That love didn't do any difference when it came to a person. But he was, and it did.

Suddenly, before she could blink he turned her around and gently tugged her into his bare chest, enclosing his arms around her in an embrace. The hug didn't last long, but it didn't have to because it brought comfort either way. When he pulled away his hands immediately reached for her cheeks.

When his hands cup both sides of her face, she flinches back. But she doesn't get anywhere for his grip is unmoving. His thumb suddenly touched the space between her eyebrows and began slowly stroking the space, evening out the frown on her face.

She swallows hard. "It was never my intention to make you feel this way." He sighed. A deep heartfelt sigh." I just wanted your attention. And your laughs and your love. But my so thought to be efficacious methods didn't seem to be as efficacious as I believed them to be."

A humorous chuckle rumbles through his chest when a tiny, watery smile tugs at the corner of her lips. And then (Name) feels the aftermath of her sobbing catching up to her body, and a headache grows in her skull. And that's why she lets her forehead rest on the space in between his collarbones.

"Can you ever forgive me?" He asks while letting his fingers push her back from her tear-stained face. She makes a sound in the back of her throat.

"How can I not."

Her voice still had a watery touch to it but sounded more optimistic than she had the entire day. And Theodore tightened his arms around her. But the action sent a jolt of pain through his stomach, and therefore staggered into as he tried to lean some of his body weight on her. But since she wasn't ready, she stumbled against the wall.

"Sorry." He mumbled and pulled away from the embrace.

She chuckled while looking towards the floor, before slowly dragging her eyes up to his face. And then, out of pure instinct, she kissed his cheek and his entire body flared up. "You don't have to apologize."

She hoped he realized the double meaning behind her words. And that she truly did forgive him. Perhaps it would be a stupid decision she would come to regret. But it would be a future problem.

A gentle smile licked her features when he once again cupped her cheeks in his warm palms, and she was on top of the world when he slowly leaned closer.

But he moved so slow, and (Name) wanted to feel him and therefore rose to her toes to gently connect the kiss. It was only a peck, and also short-lived. But it was also her first kiss which meant that it still felt like a thousand suns burned in her chest.

But Theodore seemed to think differently, and with a breath, connected their lips into another sweet, blissful kiss. Although this one not only was deeper but also felt like it was. Her heart beat inside her ribs, more alive than ever when Theodore continued to angle her to meet his lips as he wished. As of the moment, he was pushing her into the wall with his chest, trying to feel as much of her as possible. But since he pressed into her, she had to angle her head up so that he would reach her lips.

Her lungs were burning, and her head spun and she had no choice but to pull away. When she did, Theodore quickly tried to connect their lips again, but she didn't let him. It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him because she did. But she also wanted to look at him. To see his brown eyes, his pink kissed lips, and rosy cheeks.

"You look pretty." She whispered, and lightly kissed his nose. It was out of her character, but it felt right to do so. Especially when she saw the surprised face that he wore.

And at that moment, Theodore felt at peace. There was no itching on his arm, no pain and she was officially his known addiction. He would never let her go now.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

I'm so lonely. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed, and that it wasn't to long;)

Quick question, do you prefer 1:st 2:nd or 3:rd pov?