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The gloom that permeated through the air was unusually suffocating. The grey clouds that scattered across the almost equally dull sky left little room for enthusiasm to float about. Many students were beginning to fall into the pattern of procrastinating on their essays, the notorious wave of burnout that swept through the student body every year was at its most unforgiving.
This year seemed almost worse than last year’s and you were sure it has already done a number on you. Hermione, ever the scholar, was amongst the very few who were managing fairly well for the most part. Your frizzy-haired friend was currently sitting across from you in the library, face buried in a book as she mumbled quietly, albeit furiously, about Harry’s sudden overwhelming success in Potions.
You yourself were quite impressed at Harry’s new penchant for the subject and you weren’t sure if his newfound success had anything to do with having a Potions professor who didn’t seem to loathe his existence or if he was suddenly gifted by mother magic with a potions mastery.
NEWT level classes were definitely proving to be a challenge for you, and your head was pounding from trying to make sense of the Runes assignment in front of you. You weren’t Hermione by any means, but you would consider yourself to be another top student in your year, having a particular talent for Transfiguration.
“‘Mione, maybe Harry just studied a little bit extra or something. Besides, it’s a great thing that he’s thriving, especially in potions. Merlin knows this spurn of success was needed given his previous record.”
The girl’s head shoots up at your words, eyebrows drawn in frustration, “But Y/N, it just doesn’t make any sense! I followed the instructions exactly! Harry said he did as well, so why are all of my potions off?”
Ah, ever the perfectionist.
As she continued her tangent, her voice began to slowly rise in volume before her last words were bouncing around the bookshelves and causing other students to turn towards you.
“Mione, please speak a little lower! And it doesn’t matter, you’re still the top student in a lot of the other classes anyway. Besides, Slughorn is still impressed with your work regardless, that Slug Club invitation is proof of it.” Your hushed whispers seemed to quell her and she nodded along, seeming to accept your encouragement. As if suddenly feeling the burning gazes being shot at the two of you, she quickly turned and apologized silently to everyone she disturbed.
As she turned back to the book in front of her, you slowly looked around to rest your eyes. As your gaze flitted to the table next to yours, your eyes widened as you made eye contact with a familiar slytherin.
Of course, it just happened to be him of all people.
Theodore Nott happened to be one of the very few students in your year who could match Hermione’s academic prowess. You remembered starkly him beating out Draco and Hermione in Charms and Runes last year, shocking your friend group immensely– Hermione most of all. He was often seen walking with Draco and Daphne Greengrass, but he kept to himself for the most part. Despite his quieter disposition, you heard his name whispered often by girls who were longing to gain his attention and affection.
And from the way he carried himself, it was obvious that Theodore Nott was an impressive wizard.
He also just so happened to be staring at you at the current moment, no doubt having been disturbed by Hermione moments earlier.
Slapping on an apologetic smile, you nod to him before turning back to your Runes assignment.
Nope. Not awkward at all.
Your heart was beating furiously in your chest and you were beginning to fear that its quickened pace would either cause you to pass out or be loud enough for him to hear. You had never really talked to the boy, only being able to recall moments of fleeting nods and awkward eye contact between the two of you.
Of course, that didn’t stop you from admiring his talents and his admittedly, above-average looks. You also appreciated his tendency to ignore people rather than berate and bully them like other slytherins in your year.
You were sure that he at least knew of you, if not due to your involvement in Harry’s circle, then due to your consistent residency at the top of the academic hierarchy.
And a little part of you did hope that he took notice of you, not that you’d ever admit it aloud.
–
The bags under your eyes could probably carry the weight of the troll you accidentally concussed in your first year, the unforgiving curriculum chipping away at the amount of rest you got every night.
The library was unusually empty that evening, allowing you to peacefully sigh and slam your head into your books without looking like a complete maniac. Moving your head from side to side to try and relieve the tension in your neck, you move to slap your hands over your cheeks.
After you were done waking yourself up, you drew your eyebrows together and began to tackle the large chunks of small text.
‘Often mistaken for each other, the words ehwaz and eihwaz have different meanings, partnership and defense, respectively.’
You were definitely not making much progress with your Ancient Runes work, and you were growing increasingly anxious about the upcoming exam as you could slowly feel yourself slipping in the class.
Feeling a prickle on your forehead, you shoot your gaze upwards and suppress a startled gasp as you lock eyes with an amused Theodore.
When did he get here? Wait, did you get here after him? If so, how did you not notice him until now?
Perhaps, your sleep deprivation was beginning to interfere with how you function. Your lapses in memory were concerning enough for you to think of reining in your hours of daily study. As you slowly close the textbook in front of you, you watch as Theodore’s eyes dart to observe your sluggish movements.
Clearly taking pity on your hunched form, he observes you for a few more moments before sliding over a sheet of parchment. Feeling your fingers twitch in suspicion, you carefully eye him before deciding that he wouldn’t try to blow you up or anything to that degree.
As you read through the paper, you feel your mouth part in shock as you realize that it was an organized chart of notes on the words you were struggling with. Theodore Nott had just given you his notes like it was the most casual thing in the world–and they were his nice notes too.
Feeling a smile pull at your lips, you shoot your head up to thank the boy, only to find the chair across from you vacant. Looking around your table, you’re only met with endless rows of bookshelves. You were left to your lonesome again, the paper in your hand being the only assurance that you hadn’t hallucinated your interaction with the quiet slytherin.
Quickly packing up your notes and books, you carefully slide Theodore’s notes into your folder as you exit the library, parting with a quick farewell to Madam Pince.
Briskly walking back to the Gryffindor common room, you shake off the strange interaction in favor of contemplating what a disaster your next Potions lesson is going to be. It was pretty formulaic by now with Harry finishing flawlessly, Hermione wandering out of the class with a lost look, Ron flying by the seat of his pants, and your constant thoughts of giving up and laying your head down.
Potions had transformed from a tense, strict environment to one of the most entertaining in a matter of just a single year. You respected Snape’s intellect and proclivity in Potions, but his prejudices diminished any inkling of passion you had for the subject.
–
You were correct in your assumption that the class would go exactly how it always went. Currently, Ron’s cauldron was smoking up a cloud that put Seamus’ usual catastrophes to shame. As you ran your finger along the list of directions for the umpteenth time, you realized that you were missing a stem of Baneberries.
How you missed it, you could only ponder at another time. You were bustling about frantically, running on a couple hours of sleep, and feeling beside yourself.
Eyeing your cauldron, you estimated that you could probably run to the storage closet and nick the stem quickly without causing too much havoc by leaving it unattended. Moving from around your table, you quickly weaved around frustrated Gryffindors and confused Slytherins and towards the high shelves of glass jars in the back of the room.
You were getting dizzy from scanning the identical towers of jars, all the labels suddenly merging together.
Baneberries would be near the top since all the ingredients were sorted alphabetically. Looking around for the ladder, you jump out of your skin as you nearly bump into a sturdy figure behind you.
Holding your chest from the scare, you peer at the person only to be met with a familiar pair of amused eyes.
Sucking in a short breath at your luck, you shoot a sheepish smile at the boy, “Nott. Hello. I didn’t notice you there. Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush, I forgot one of my ingredients.”
Theodore raises an eyebrow at you before partially sidestepping you, reaching up towards a shelf behind you. You gaped as you realized he was crowding you against him and the shelf, unable to wiggle around the small gap he left.
Just as quickly as the awkward moment began, it ended, and Theodore was backing up and gingerly pushing a small stem of red and white berry clusters towards you.
Eyes widening in shock, you carefully grab the thin stem, accidentally pinching his cold fingers in the process, “Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. Er…but thank you, Nott. I should really go though, I think my cauldron might explode if I delay any further.”
Practically bouncing on the spot, you don’t wait to hear his response before you’re maneuvering around his figure and scurrying back to your table. Luckily, your potion was still boiling away and even looked salvageable.
“It’s perfect! That bright pink is spot on, very good Harry, my boy.” Slughorn’s jubilant voice carries around the classroom and you could see many students suppressing their groans at Harry finishing first and flawlessly, once again.
You purse your lips to contain your laughter as you see Hermione look more than mildly distressed before schooling her expression, shooting a small congratulatory smile at Harry.
What a proper mess.
Snorting quietly, you remove the stem from your berries and slowly add a few at a time, stirring the concoction three times counterclockwise. Unlike Harry’s tart pink potion, yours begins to melt into a magenta color, and you have half the mind to step back just as it gives a little rumble, a small puff of smoke shrouding over the circumference of the cauldron.
Safe to say, that is not what’s meant to happen.
Unsure whether to mourn your failed potion (once again) or not take it too seriously, you opt to just do both, and drop your chin into your hands, laughing dryly at your fate.
Quickly cleaning up around your work station, you risk a glance across the room and make eye contact with Theodore who looks vaguely entertained at your failed potion.
Later, Harry’s bottled potion is being presented by Slughorn at the front of the class, everybody gathering around in a semi-circle to see the result. As you shuffle from leg to leg, you feel a firm chest press lightly against your back. Before you could spin around on your heel, you sense their head moving towards your ear.
“You forgot to turn down your flame and add the stem of your Angel’s Trumpet.” Theodore’s whisper sends shivers down your spine and you have to cross your arms in order to stop yourself from physically reacting.
Turning your head slightly towards his face, you huff out in exasperation, “I’m not surprised, I was pretty much running around like a headless hippogriff.”
You wryly smile, becoming accustomed to classroom failures. Luckily, it seemed that the wave of burnout was finally letting up for a few weeks before your NEWTS, so you could catch up on sleep beforehand.
A breathy laugh leaves Theodore’s lips imperceptibly and you have to fight back the pleased grin threatening to pull at your face.
Soon, Slughorn was dismissing class and you were all free to head to the dining hall for lunch. Spinning to head back to grab your book bag, you shoot a small smile at Theodore, “Nice chat, Nott. Thanks again.”
Before you’re able to brush past him, he mutters a simple correction to you, “Theo.”
“Theo. See you around.”
–
Your little exchange in potions doesn’t go unnoticed and before you could even stack up some potatoes on your plate, Hermione is dropping herself down next to you with a curious glint shining in her eyes.
Raising an eyebrow at her enthused expression, you’re unsure if you’re walking into a trap as you respond, “What’s up, ‘Mione?”
Hermione leans a little towards you before quietly whispering to you as if she was sharing a heartfelt secret, “You know what. I saw you and Nott during Potions.”
Craning your head back to look at her, you suppress the groan itching at your throat as you realize she had her mind set on getting information out of you.
“It’s nothing of that sort, ‘Mione. He was just giving me tips on my brew is all, apparently I forgot a key ingredient. I’m a proper mess and it seems to be catching the attention of other houses.” You breathe out quietly, beginning to push your food around on your plate.
Hermione grins like she knows something you don’t and replies with finality before scooping food onto her plate, “Well, he’s seated rather far away from us, don’t you agree? I wonder how he knew what you did wrong.”
Her words have you pausing as you straighten up in your seat, shooting your wide eyes to her satisfied face.
Sweet Merlin, she wasn’t called the brightest witch of your age for a half-hearted reason. In a way, you wanted to smack yourself for not realizing sooner despite how glaringly obvious it seems in hindsight.
How did he know what you did wrong?
–
It’s been a week since your potion incident with Theo, and you’ve been actively avoiding looking in his direction since that day. You absolutely would not focus on the boy, you couldn’t afford a crush, especially not one on one of the most eligible bachelors of your year.
Plus, a crush would be detrimental to your grades, and you had barely just recovered from your chronic sleep deprivation.
Unfortunately, your active avoidance of the boy only made him drift through your head more often. You even caught yourself writing his name mid-sentence while you were doing your Transfiguration essay.
At the current moment, you were sitting with your friends in the common room, listening to Harry rant about Draco, once again. It was entertaining, but you could feel Hermione shooting small glances at you from time to time, still remembering your incident with Theodore.
Crossing your arms, you finally speak up as Harry stops to catch his breath, “Harry, are you sure you’re not just interested in Malfoy? No one pays this much attention to someone without having a crush on them, I mean seriously, how do you even know how Draco likes his apples?”
Harry gapes at your words, fishing around for a logical rebuttal, but you can see how his eyes widen in realization. Ron seems plenty amused by Harry’s flailing and leans back like a satisfied wingman, even though you were the one who did all the mental gymnastics for Harry.
Hermione raises her eyebrows at your words, turning to face you before echoing your words quietly, “Yeah, no one pays that much attention to someone without it involving a crush.”
Shaking your head, you dismiss her insinuation, “It was one lesson, ‘Mione. I doubt he’s looking to court me or anything.”
Your words grab Harry and Ron’s attention and they suddenly lean over to you for an explanation. Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you successfully harden your resolve despite their puppy eyes.
Realizing that you were going to remain tight-lipped, Hermione decides to enlighten them, “A certain slytherin has taken interest in Y/N.”
“Oh please ‘Mione, I’m telling you that he’s just really observant and really good at potions.” Your last words catch a little in your throat.
Hermione grins like cheshire cat, having successfully roped you in, “Sure, and him giving you his nice notes was just a casual ordeal as well.”
Ron and Harry swing their heads back and forth between the two of you, eyes brimming with anticipation.
Ron seems to have reached the end of his patience and grabs hold of your forearms, shaking you playfully before exclaiming, “Well don’t just keep fighting, tell us who!”
Huffing in defeat, you dart your attention to the fireplace as you satiate their curiosity, “Theodore Nott.”
Harry falls back on the floor and releases a noise of surprise while Ron’s hands rip away from your arms and fly to his face.
“What? Is it that surprising?” Honestly, you were mildly insulted.
Harry is the first to speak, shaking his head reassuringly, “No, no, it’s just, you’re not considering it are you?”
Tilting your head, you’re quick to reply, “What do you mean? I mean I don’t consider it as a possibility, but what’s so wrong with Theo?”
Ron gapes in shock, “Theo?”
Hermione looks at the both of them sternly before turning to you, “I think what they’re trying to say is, Theodore might be bad news. I haven’t the faintest clue why they’d feel that way though.”
Shaking your head firmly, you shoot down their apprehension, “No way, he’s probably the most tame out of that friend group.”
The boys don’t look convinced, but Harry concedes with a quiet, “If you’re sure.”
Tired of the conversation, you stand up from the sofa and stretch your arms above your head, “Enough about me, it’s about time for dinner. Let’s head to the dining hall and talk about Harry’s crush on Draco.”
“It’s not a crush!”
—
It’s the very next morning after your conversation in the common room when something bizarre happens to you again. You had successfully evaded Theodore for a little over a week, and sometimes you could feel a pointed stare aimed at you.
As you’re pouring orange juice for yourself during breakfast, a letter drops in front of your plate as everyone gets their post. Confused by the envelope, you cast a charm to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with before picking it up.
There wasn’t a sender address on the envelope, but as you neatly tear it open and unfold the paper inside, you realize that you knew exactly who it was from.
The words were neatly written on the paper, and even without the letter’s content, you already recognized the penmanship.
Meet me after dinner tonight? Astronomy Tower.
Don’t worry, you’ll be back before curfew.
P.S. Do you need my notes again?
Unable to stop yourself, your head shoots up and towards the direction of Draco’s friend group. Immediately, your eyes lock with Theodore’s and he sends you a small smile, tilting his head subtly to ask for your answer.
Slowly nodding, you feel warmth flood your face as he breaks into a pleased grin and his eyes twinkle in victory. His expression catches the attention of his friends as they all immediately stop their conversation and follow Theodore’s gaze.
Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your face as you’re suddenly under the scrutiny of the slytherin circle. Surprisingly, Draco doesn’t jeer at you but rather smirks at you ominously, but surprisingly not with malice. Blaise and Pansy look back at Theodore and whisper furiously, their words seemingly so obscene that it tears Theo’s gaze from you and to his smiling friends.
You weren’t sure if you should be worried. Swallowing down your nervousness, you carefully fold the letter back up and tuck it away into your book bag, keeping your head down for the rest of the meal.
–
Your day seems to pass by in a blur, and soon enough you’re rising out of your seat during dinner, eyes trailing to glance at Theo, whose attention darts to your rising form.
Harry raises his head to look at you in confusion, “You’re done eating already?”
Nodding quickly, you plaster on a reassuring smile to settle your nerves, “Yeah, I’m just going to go take a walk. I’ll meet you guys in the common room before curfew.”
Your friends bid you farewell and you pace out of the hall, seeing Theodore push his plate back out of the corner of your eye. Not ready to face him quite yet, you pick up the pace as you head towards the Astronomy Tower, head filled with racing thoughts.
As you enter the top tier of the tower, you walk towards the ledge to look at the sky, deciding to just leave the door open for Theo.
A few minutes pass before you hear footsteps approaching you, your shoulders tensing in anticipation.
Theodore slowly makes his way to stand next to you, resting one arm on the stone ledge and maneuvering his body to face you. Unable to face him just yet, you opt to break the silence first, “So, why did you want to meet with me?”
“I thought you would have figured it out by now. After all, you’re quite brilliant.” Amusement colors his tone, and you were sure he was smiling at you right now.
Feeling your brain lag at the sudden compliment, you turn your head and survey him with questioning eyes before finding your voice, “It’s not like you to do all this.”
His lips tug a little at your attention, “Like what?”
Turning your body to face him fully, you’re keenly aware of the warmth emanating from his body, “Like approaching people you’re unfamiliar with and giving them your notes. Asking them to meet up with you at night. Helping them with their potions. You’re not possessed are you?”
Theodore’s nose wrinkles in amusement as his smile seems to grow impossibly wider, “So you watch me too. But no, I’m not possessed. I think we both know what the deal is though.”
Dropping your shoulders as your nerves seem to turn to jelly, you release a shaky sigh, “Then, you like me too?”
Your eyes flit across his face quickly, watching his eyes widen slowly. Smiling at you in fondness, he carefully brings up his hand to cup your face, his cool rings soothing your burning cheek.
His thumb slowly brushes across your cheek and he steps closer to your figure, leaning to close the distance between your faces, but leaving just enough room to have you wanting more.
His gaze flickers between your lips and eyes, finally breaking through the silence that settled between the two of you, “Yes, I like you too. Have for a while.”
You can’t fight your smile, and Theodore seems to be unable to wait any longer, ducking his head further towards yours, “Tell me to stop if you’re not ready.”
Laughing breathlessly at his words, you bring your hands to rest behind his neck, tugging him closer to close the faint gap between your bodies, “Not a chance in hell.”
Theodore brings a hand to wrap around your body, quickly connecting your lips. His firm grip on you has you melting against him, and you’re sure that the world completely stopped in that moment, nerves running like fireworks in your body.
You both break apart for air, donning identical grins of bliss. Unwilling to let you stray too far, Theodore doesn’t loosen his hold and opts to softly nuzzle his nose against yours, occasionally planting kisses on your cheeks.
Rubbing circles on the back of his neck, you softly laugh as you suddenly remember something, “Hermione was actually the one who helped me realize that you liked me.”
Humming at your words, Theo only pauses briefly from kissing your face to answer, “Remind me to thank her.”
Smiling softly at his clinginess, you pull your head back to get a good look at him, “Didn’t realize you were the affectionate type.”
His eyes are hazy from bliss, and he cranes his head forward to try and bring you back to him before answering, “Hm, well the last week has been rough with you avoiding me. ‘M making up for it.”
Your laugh echoes around the room, urging Theodore to lean over to nip at your ear, “What’s so funny?”
Carding your fingers through his soft lock, you have a fleeting thought about curfew before you brush it aside to answer him, “Nothing much. Just didn’t think you would get pouty about it.”
Reeling back at your words, his mouth parts in playful shock, “I don’t pout, baby.”
“That’s good since we should get going before the prefects head out.” Your words are met with a loud groan and Theodore does the exact opposite of your suggestion, deciding to instead bury his face in your neck and cling onto you.
–
“Oh bugger off! He was being the biggest baby of the century all week long, ‘I don’t pout’, my arse.” Draco’s crude words have you dropping your mouth into your hands to muffle your laughter as Theo was left to gape at his friend’s words.
Pansy nods in agreement and grabs your free hand like a relieved mother, “Trust me, I don’t know what you see in him, but I’m so glad you’re here now.”
You beam brightly at the girl, coming to realize that your previous anxiety about meeting Theo’s friends was just a waste of energy–they were nothing like your presumptions.
“Happy to be here. I was honestly driving myself mad all week trying to avoid Theo.” You don’t miss the wounded look the boy throws at you as he begins to tug on your elbow to try and drag you away from his friends.
“Theo? I remember when I tried to call him that once in third year and he nearly incinerated me.” Blaise raises his eyebrows teasingly at your deflated boyfriend, unable to resist poking fun at his usually stoic friend.
Huffing a small laugh, you interlace your fingers with Theo’s before stepping back, “Dating privileges, Zabini. Now, it was nice talking with you guys, but Theo might die from embarrassment if we linger around.”
You barely manage to say your farewells to the group, before Theo is steering you away by your shoulders, muttering up a storm about his friends.
“Don’t be lax just yet, dear. You still have to talk with my friends, remember?” Your reminder has the boy straightening his posture, evidently unsure with how to approach making conversation with your capricious group.
“They’ll like me, right?” You nearly melt into a puddle at his words.
“Hermione? Yes. Harry? Maybe. Ron? Not a chance. But I like you, and that’s all that matters. Besides, Ron is too scared to incur Hermione’s wrath to threaten you, so he won’t try to hex you or anything.” Patting his chest reassuringly, you begin to drag him through the castle, set on finding your friends.
Smiling to yourself, you were sure that your sudden relationship with the slytherin would encourage your friends to confront their own crushes.
“Oh, I think I see them! Theo, you can’t get out of this with your puppy eyes, now come on!”