Work Text:
Honeybee - Nottpott one shot.
Theo could pinpoint the exact date in which the nicknames started.
The 20th of July, the day of Draco's trial, where his Azkaban sentence would be decided by the entirety of Wizengamot, and Theo alongside Blaise were a bundle of nerves. (They had already gotten relatively scott free, with monthly checkups on their wands and living spaces until further notice.)
However, Draco was different, he had taken the mark. (And bullied the fucking Hero of Britain for most of his childhood), so his sentence was really up in the air.
Theo and Blaise entered the courtroom and sat in a far quiet corner, thankful that they had managed to get inside at all.
“How do you think this will fare?” Asked Blaise in his ear in a quiet whisper. Theo simply looked at him and shook his head, he was too scared to even speak at all. The other simply nodded.
Finally after the rest of the seats had filled up with the Wizengamot officials that hadn’t fallen into You-know-who’s clutches, the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, entered the Courtroom.
“Dear members, today we have a long day ahead of us, so please let us start at once.” He said. “The first prisoner is Malfoy Lucius Draco.”
The trial was unnecessarily long, with unfounded accusations and clear prejudice tainting the speeches, done by aging men who wanted to stay on the good side of history (and money).
All in all, it was a grim situation for his friend.
The blonde would be lucky if he didn’t get a life sentence at this point.
“Well, that’s enough debate.” Kingsley said, looking disappointed at the Slytherin. “The verdict is in…”
Suddenly, the doors bursted open, revealing a disheveled looking Harry Potter, wearing a muggle suit, gathering gasps from the Wizengamot.
“Minister, I thought that this trial would be during the afternoon. Or was I misinformed?” Potter asked, walking until he was standing right next to Malfoy, which made the blonde flinch.
It was unfair how hot Potter looked with his new scars and wearing formal clothes.
“That was not the intention, Mr. Potter, I can assure you.” Kingsley reaffirmed, but he did not look satisfied with this turn of events.
“Well, I am glad, because I was one of the witnesses, was I not?” Harry adjusted his cuffs, clearly not used to wearing a suit.
“Ye-Yes you were, Mr. Potter, the only defendant, in fact.” The minister said, trying (and failing) to hide his disappointment.
“Well? Am I allowed to give my declaration?” As if anyone would deny the Golden Boy anything.
“You are, Mr. Potter.”
The hero sighed and looked at Malfoy. “Draco has not been and will probably never be a friend of mine.” Strong start certainly. “The man now kneeling next to me has bullied me relentlessly during my school years, a fact that I am certain will not go unnoticed when it’s time to decide his sentence.”
There has to be a but soon.
“But, if there is a reason I am alive today it’s because of him.”
Well that was certainly interesting.
“When I was on the run, with the ministry corrupted to its bone marrow by Voldemort, I was captured by Scavengers, foul people that are still prevalent under the very ministry’s nose, going by the name of Strickers.” Potter was frowning, turning towards the minister, “Draco Malfoy defended me in front of Bellatrix Lestrange herself, and while doing so, had more balls than half of these pompous gits here combined, if any one of you have any consciousness left, you will not convict this teen to Azkaban for a crime that he’s been groomed to commit by people he used to call his family, and instead, you will turn this rightful anger to the adults that pressured him in the first place.”
That certainly took courage, to stand up to the whole of Wizengamot to defend your fucking bully, letting hate and impotence seep into the speech to call for action.
It was impressive, and so very Slytherin yet so Gryffindor at the same time.
So incredibly hot.
“Merlin’s beard.” Blaise snorted.
Half of the members looked red in the face at the call out, most of them angry at the words that the boy in front of them was exclaiming, knowing they’d never be able to do anything about it, because Harry Potter was not someone one could simply harm.
“Is that all, Potter?” Kingsley asked, gripping the hammer so hard his knuckles were turning white.
“Yes, Minister.” He said, taking a seat in the front row.
“Very well, a new vote is in order, those in favour of Azkaban?” A few members raised their hands, not the majority by far. “And those in favour of strict regulations but freedom nonetheless?” The remaining members raised their hand, Harry included. (He had the Order of Merlin First Class, after all.)
“Very Well, Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go, in the following week we’ll be giving you the details of your sentence, for now, remain in the premises of Diagon Alley.”
With that Harry left just before they dragged Draco away.
Theo needed to talk to Potter.
“Hey, where are you going?” Blaise asked, but Theo was already running out of the courtroom, chasing Potter’s footsteps.
“Hey! Potter! Wait!” He called, managing to enter the elevator beside him.
“Nott! Are you alright?” Harry asked, putting his hand on Nott’s shoulder when he saw him panting.
“Ye- Yes, I am fine.” He panted, trying to get himself in order, Just be cool, Nott.
“I- I just wanted to congratulate you, for- standing up to them.” He commented. “It was incredibly impressive.”
Harry simply chuckled. “Yeah well, they all kind of owe me big time, you know? It was time I cashed it in.” He winked. The golden boy fucking winked.
“Yeah, of course, of course.” Theo remained looking into Potter’s eyes, he could spend his whole life getting to know the small details in his face. “Are you going back to Hogwarts this year?”
“Well, I wasn’t planning to, but- maybe I just got motivation.” He smiled, as the elevator door dinged. They had arrived at the entrance. “See you in September, dear.” Before turning and all but running out
Theo had a crush on the Chosen One.
Fuck.
-
The second time Harry called him a nickname was an even more embarrassing one, the 30th of September in the Hogwarts Kitchens.
Theo was all but raised by House elves, and unlike other slytherins, did not find their presence annoying, but comforting. It reminded him of stolen nights with Deepy, hiding in the Manor’s closets and endless rooms, hiding from Father.
The elf had made it seem like a game.
Father hanged his head when Theo returned from Hogwarts in his second year.
He had not come to the kitchens in all his time at the castle before this year, but when the noises got too much and he could not bear to eat in the great hall with his fellow snakes, he hid between house elves, and accepted their food with a thank you and a warm smile.
He had gone undiscovered for a whole month, before Harry fucking Potter of all people had to show up.
His unrequited crush had grown over the past two months, with Harry being Harry, muscled, street smart, sassy and Gryffindor to his very core. Some things simply never changed.
“Oh, Nott.” The golden boy said with widened eyes. “Are you- What are you doing?”
Theo was in the process of peeling tangerine’s for the elves. A task they found difficult due to their long fingers that tended to stab the citrus.
“I- I am helping.” He answered, way too doubtfully.
Harry smiled and sat in front of him, grabbing a tangerine.
“You should really hear about SPEW.”
They spent the rest of their afternoon peeling tangerines taking careful consideration into not spilling unnecessary juice and talking. Turns out that Harry’s life was more convoluted than Theo would have first thought, and the boy was sharing it as if it was nothing.
“So, I presume you like tangerine’s?” Harry asked, grabbing a slice for himself after telling him all about SPEW and Hermione’s and his thoughts about creature’s rights.
“I never had them growing up.” Theo shrugged. “They were my mother’s favourite fruit, and after she passed away, father didn’t want any more reminders of her untimely death.”
Theo did not comment on who had committed her murder, some details were better left unsaid.
“I am sorry for your loss, Theo.” Harry sighed, leaning in closer, all that the Slytherin wanted to do was pull him in even more.
“It was a long time ago, it’s more than alright, Harry.” He said, smiling softly.
Harry checked the clock and sighed. “I should probably be heading back, Tangerine, my
friends are going to get worried.”
“Tangerine?” Theo asked, not able to hide his smile.
“Don’t you like it? I think it fits you.” Harry commented, with a shy smile. “Sticky sweet tangerine.”
No one had ever called him sweet before.
“I- I do actually.” He whispered just as Harry stood up. “Friends?” He asked, trying to hide how much he cared for his answer.
“Friends.” Harry nodded. “Goodbye, sweet tangerine.”
-
The third nickname had come on Halloween night.
He had managed to escape Slytherin’s party and was heading outside for a smoke break he desperately needed when he crossed paths with Harry.
They had slowly become friends, sometimes sharing meals together in the kitchens, or studying together in the library and on one memorable occasion, duelling in the Duelling club Harry hosted on Saturdays.
“Harry?” Theo asked, noticing his friend had tears swelling up his eyes. At first he was confused, but the answer suddenly came to him. This was the night his parents had died. “Fuck, Harry, let’s go out, alright?”
He led the taller boy out to the chilling autumn cold, quickly casting a warming charm over them and sitting looking at the lake.
Harry cuddled up to him, crying into his shoulder and wetting his sweater. Not that Theo cared, not when he had his crush tight in his arms, where he could shield him from the world and all its cruelty.
Over the past month, he had gotten to know Harry and he knew that the boy was truly all they claimed to be, kind, brave, and so very lovable. Not deserving of all the shit he got over the years, if he had chosen to snap at some point, it was more than deserved, no one could go through all that he had gone unscathed.
“This is where I cast my first patronus.” Harry whispered in Theo’s shoulder.
“What was that, Harry?” He asked softly.
“I- thought that it had been my father but-” He slowly came out of Theo’s shoulder. “I should probably tell you the whole story.”
And Theo listened. He listened to Harry’s adventures in his third year, about Sirius Black, time travel, the Marauders and the stag patronus.
By the time Harry finished, they were laying on the grass, looking at the stars above them.
“I’ve never been able to cast a patronus.” Theo confessed, trying not to look ashamed. “I guess I never really gave it a shot.”
“I haven’t casted it since the Battle.” Harry said in turn. “I’d help you otherwise.”
“Maybe we can relearn together.”
“Yeah, maybe we can, my star.”
My?
“Want to walk back?” Theo asked, but Harry shook his head.
“Would you mind walking with me?”
“In the dark?”
“I can always cast a lumos.” They laughed, and Theo grabbed Harry’s hand and stood up with him, no spell necessary, he was not scared, not with Harry.
They walked until dawn began to rise in the horizon, and their legs threatened to give out.
“Good morning, my star.”
-
The fourth nickname had come with a love confession attached to it.
It was the third of December, and the Hogsmeade weekend that students used for their holiday shopping. However, this time, Theo would be accompanied by none other than Harry himself, the boy who had slowly but surely wormed the way inside his heart, and was shaping up to take a permanent residence there.
They had agreed not to go to The Three Broomsticks, and instead preferred for a quiet small cafe that had recently opened on the outskirts. They were the only customers when they arrived and the only ones there for the rest of the afternoon.
Just how they liked it.
They paid their tab and walked the Hogsmeade streets, taking the small alleyways and entering the less frequented shops, until they made it to the edge of the town, looking towards the Shriecking Shrack.
“Come on, what are you so afraid of? I already told you its story, didn’t I, my star?” Harry asked, hoping the fence with his seeker agility.
“Stil-”
But Harry was holding out his hand, and Theo would never not take it.
They walked towards the shrieking shack, Harry’s hand still tight on his, throwing furtive glances.
“You are not half as subtle as you think you are, Potter.” Theo laughed, to which Harry shook his head.
“Shut up, tangerine.”
They finally arrived, and when he opened the half broken door, he revealed a picnic under an enchanted ceiling, with tangerines and non alcoholic champagne, and rose petals scattered.
“Harry…” He murmured, taking a step forward.
Harry sat on the floor that had been thoroughly cleaned and offered a glass of champagne to Theo. The slytherin took it and sat beside him.
“Here’s to hoping.” Theo said, raising it. “Hoping that we will heal all wounds and find love, because isn’t that what life is about?”
Harry chuckled and clinked his glass.
“Here’s to hoping, dearest.”
-
The fourth nickname appeared on a random Thursday night, the 12th of January to be specific.
They were in the abandoned classroom that Harry used to host Duelling club, his boyfriend’s passion project. Harry just had this knack for being a professor that allowed him to be himself unlike at any other moment, except maybe, when he was riding on a broom.
However this time it was just the two of them, staying up to ungodly hours to practice every one of the Defense spells required for NEWTS.
(Harry mastered most of them in the first try, one of the perks of being the Master of Death).
They were focusing on Theo, when it happened, Harry was teaching him the correct body position with a hand on his waist and the other arm covering his completely.
“You have your memory?” Harry asked in his ear. Theo nodded, he was tired of pretending he did not know which one to use, he was too tired to keep fooling himself using faint memories of his mother, the brief smiles he had with his father or the laughs he shared with his friends over the years in the common room.
He remembered how Harry’s body felt against him that Halloween night, and whispered it. Expecto Patronum.
Out of the tip of his wand, a silver moth came out, as big as his body, which fluttered happily around the classroom.
“Theo, it’s beautiful.” Harry exclaimed excitedly
“You try.” Theo whispered in his mouth. Harry nodded and casted the spell. A moth.
They both laughed and laughed in each other’s arms, as their pair of moths flew around the room.
“I love you.” Theo confessed as Harry held his head between his hands, his avada kedavra eyes staring into his maroon ones. “Do you?”
“I love you, baby, I promise.”
Finally, Harry pressed his lips against his.
-
The last of Harry’s favourite nicknames came the night before graduation, the 29th of June.
They were laying in their shared bed in Harry's bedroom (because who would deny anything to him) looking into each other’s eyes with hope and devotion.
Harry’s hand caressed the side of his body as his other caressed his buzzcut, all the while Theo kept to cradling Harry’s face, one he could spend his whole life knowing. Counting his eyelashes, the freckles, the veins of his eyes, the scars that had already become a part of him.
It had become one of Theo’s favourite hobbies, to trace each of Harry’s scars, asking for their stories, as if he hadn’t heard them a million times by now, and joke that time heals all wounds.
Even if they knew that was not true.
They kept quiet as they looked at each other, giving soft caresses to heal the worst of the war that they had left behind but would inevitably chase them forever in the nightmares they had.
The only thing that calmed Theo down was knowing he had Harry beside him even on the worst nights.
As Harry’s eyes fluttered close from exhaustion, Theo leaned in to whisper I love you, but he kept quiet, they both knew it.
Suddenly, a bee lay between them, setting on Theo’s cheek.
“My dear honeybee.”