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1
Theo doesn’t see the point in his classes; the world knows the Dark Lord is back, so waving his wand and uttering nonsense in latin seems insignificant compared to the impending darkness.
He’s taken to smoking on the edge of the forbidden forest; far enough from the castle to be hidden, yet not far enough that he’s overcome by darkness. Not much can calm him these days, as his father taunts him with plans , none of which Theo has any desire to take part in. But the feel of a cigarette between his lips, the bite of the smoke drifting down his throat, brings him some solace.
“Hello,” a soft voice drifts towards him and he freezes, momentarily caught off guard. She was utterly silent, approaching him without rustling a single leaf or branch.
He turns towards the strange girl — Luna Lovegood. She leans against an oak tree, her blonde hair hanging to her waist, covered in bobbles and ribbon. She’s wearing make-up today, rouge and eye shadow in a strange shade of teal.
He knows it shouldn’t be, but it’s mesmerizing. “Hey Luna.” He smiles slightly, letting his gaze flit past hers.
She shuffles towards him, floating to the ground at his side. “It’s beautiful out,” she remarks.
He feels her eyes on him but focuses on his cigarette. “Sure,” he agrees nonchalantly.
This isn’t the first time she’s approached him when they should both be in class. Though typically, she treats him with a comment on some creature or another she’s seen on her way.
“You seem sad,” she says after a moment of silence. When she speaks it’s like a song, the pitch purposeful, her each word pressing just the right chord.
He chances a glance in her direction, his thick glasses falling to the tip of his nose. Her expression is unchanged, her lips still curled slightly, her eyes still watching him with a wondrous expression.
“I’m not sad ,” he tells her finally. He realizes he has no obligation to say anything to her, and in another life he imagines laughing at the audacity of a fifth year witch accusing him of being sad . Because who in their right mind is sad?
She cocks her head to the side, her gaze probing. “Then what are you, Theodore Nott?”
Something in the way she says his name sends a shiver down his spine. He wants to shrug her off but he can’t bring himself to lie to her, as if doing so would somehow taint this strange connection they shared.
“I don’t know,” he says instead, his voice uneven.
“That’s okay.” She presses her fingertips against his arm for just a moment, a brush of human contact.
But it means more than she could possibly know.
2
His bare fingers shake, but he keeps smoking anyway. It’s freezing, the temperate autumn has given way to a bitter winter. He cast a warming spell only a few minutes earlier but the biting wind has overcome his shoddy spellwork.
“Is that worth it?” Luna sidles up to him. She’s warm; he can feel the heat coming off of her, giving him tangible relief. He fights the urge to draw her to him, to take some of her warmth for himself.
“Hmm?” he grunts, pretending not to know what precisely she’s asking him.
He’s become used to their routine, to the point where he no longer jumps when she appears by his side.
Their routine , he repeats back to himself internally, considering how much he looks forward to these moments. It doesn’t really make sense — why should he feel anything for this witch? But he can’t deny the warmth he feels in her presence, or the way his stomach flips when her eyes brighten.
She offers a bemused smile. “Smoking. In this cold,” she clarifies.
He takes a final puff and puts out the cigarette. “Yeah.” He replaces his gloves and wraps his arms over his chest. He’s scared to say more, terrified of the words that would come tumbling out, the admissions that sit in the back of his throat.
She nods and mumbles a short spell, extending her warming charm so it envelops him. She tells him, “Sometimes I find the fresh air reassuring. It can be so stifling in the castle, you know?” She lifts a single eyebrow, her gaze somehow simultaneously penetrating yet warm.
“It’s nice to just get away,” Theo confirms, finding himself staring back at her. He’s overwhelmed by the desire to brush his fingers through her hair, to press his forehead to hers.
She doesn’t demand anything from him, simply lets him be.
3
“I thought I’d find you up here.” Luna has somehow found him on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, visiting the scene of the crime with a sense of morbid curiosity.
He’s not surprised she found him, not anymore. “Just had to see it for myself,” Theo tells her, taking a long drag of his cigarette, leaning against the side of the tower. It’s a clear day, beautiful really, which seems inherently wrong when the school is in mourning.
“What do you see?” she asks, stepping up beside him. She’s inches away, her head tilted towards him, watching him so intently.
He swallows and turns to face her. She has somehow charmed her tie to depict all four houses simultaneously; the green, yellow, red and blue all mixing in a way that seems unrealistically beautiful. Her hair is pinned up, but tendrils sway with the light breeze, and Theo can’t stop himself from tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
His fingers linger at the nape of her neck and her lip curls just slightly. He imagines for a moment leaning in to kiss her, this girl who’s been at his side all year, that one light in his darkness. But he knows it’s impossible, so he lets his hand drop and turns back towards the countryside.
“I see the end,” he tells her finally. “I think there was a moment up here, where we all stood on a precipice whether we realized it or not, and we fell. The world we knew ended.” He doesn’t look at her, simply focuses on the sharp inhale, afraid if he turns to face her he’ll see her disappointment or perhaps her judgement.
“Are you sure that’s what you see?” she asks. And it takes everything within him not to turn to her. “Because I don’t think it was the end of all. We’ve been living in this war whether we knew it or not. All that happened here was it became something inescapable.”
Theo furrows his brow, biting his lower lip. “So what does that make it?”
She smiles; he didn’t see it but he’d come to know the way she’d shift, the way a certain question could light up her eyes. “It’s the beginning of the end,” she suggests. “How are we to know the end of this war if we never actually fight it?”
There are a hundred different answers at the tip of his tongue. He pauses, watching the smoke from his cigarette before he finally admits, “I don’t want to fight.” He still won’t look at her, though he can feel her gaze lingering against him.
“But you have to?” she asks softly, her hand lightly hovering over his own.
He glances down and flips his palm, holding his breath as she slides her hand into his. He can’t help but look up, catching her blue eyes staring at him.
There are so many things he wants to do, but instead he answers her question: “I don’t know.” His words are barely audible, catching in his throat.
Luna doesn’t push, doesn’t demand he tell her what’s on his mind or what he means. She simply holds his hand and looks away when he sheds a single tear, mourning the world as it existed before.
4
Theo knows he shouldn’t expect to see her, but he has hope. He sits amongst the trees and critters and feels something he’s reasonably confident resembles happiness, but all he can think of is her .
He hasn’t seen her in months, hasn’t truly spoken to her since sixth year. He wonders if too much time has passed, if perhaps she’s forgotten him.
Or maybe he spent the last year building something up between them that only existed in his mind.
“Hello Theo,” Luna sings, as though they had spoken only yesterday.
Theo presses his hands in his pockets, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. “Luna,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet. He exhales, the relief he feels from her presence is almost palpable.
“I was going to go and feed the Thestrals, would you like to come with me?” She reaches out, offering her hand.
He blinks and smiles, threading his fingers through hers.
“I would love that.”
Fin