anisaeee

[anisaeee]

Hey guys! This is my first post on tumblr and honestly, I have no idea how this works. I will learn as I go, but here is a short intro to a gryffreader×theodorenott story.

2k+ words

I do not know how this works exactly yet, but i will learn as i go. This is a short write up, I'll elaborate ilon the plot if readers gather!

Do drop your thoughts and let me know if you want a part 2!

It was your last year at Hogwarts. Soft, gentle breeze makes your hair flick around as you make your way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. You were going to miss this place. It hadn’t been easy making it to final year really. You were born and raised in the Muggle world. It wasn’t until your year had reached third year that you received an owl from Professor Dumbledore, informing you of your admission to Hogwarts. Your magical abilities had been dormant, likely a result of an ancient ancestor who’d unknowingly married a wizard.

You had always been a bright student back in your Muggle school. Straight As, top of the class. Magical studies? You were fascinated. You spent extra hours with professors, attended tutoring sessions on weekends, and studied relentlessly. You caught up quickly. Academically, you held your ground with the other witches and wizards your age.

But keeping up with them didn’t mean you fit in. You had missed the first few formative years. The common rooms, the late night laughs, the bonding over shared detentions and Quidditch matches. You weren’t part of any close-knit groups. So, you kept to yourself. More often than not in the library, devouring texts, chasing your dream of becoming one of the most skilled witches Hogwarts had ever seen.

It didn’t mean you were friendless.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had found you crying by the Black Lake one evening. You’d been missing home, missing your mum, your cat Flubbers, pizza, and very very frustrated that you couldn’t so much as call your mum, thanks to Hogwarts' ban on technology. He didn’t pity you. He just sat beside you in silence, understanding. He became a friend soon after. Ron and Hermione followed.

But being close to Harry came at a cost. Draco Malfoy and his loyal Slytherins had a new target. You held your own. You never cowered. But some days, you felt exhaustion down to your bones.

You wanted to graduate. Pass your N.E.W.T.s. Leave the whispers, the looks, the constant sense of otherness behind.

Then… there was him.

Theodore Nott.

"No. No, no, no. NO. " you muttered to yourself, shaking the thoughts away as you made your way around the hallways. Why was he on your mind now?

He had caught your eye the day you arrived at Hogwarts. Tall. Disarming. That rare kind of quiet confidence that drew attention without demanding it. At the Slytherin table, he sat like he belonged to another world altogether. Detached. Watching. Girls swooned at the arch of his brow, the offhanded curl of his lips. You weren’t immune to his effortless charm either.

You’d caught yourself staring more than once. In the Great Hall. In the few classes you shared. Every time, you’d force yourself to sit as far from him as possible, because you couldn’t explain why your eyes found him so easily, or why your pulse faltered and quickened around him.

Class went on as usual, you, of course, being the brightest student in the room. 'Mione was irked when you answered all the questions before she could. You giggled, knowing she's going to be muttering curses and fussing with her books all day now. You deliberately waited a beat longer to leave class, spinning an excuse about cleaning up your notes just so you could linger until he left first. Theo. By the time you left the classroom, the corridor was almost empty. Your arms wrapped around your notes as you moved quickly toward the spiral staircase. That’s when the voice came.

“Still pretending to belong here?”

Draco Malfoy.

You didn’t stop.

“You’d think after five years, the mudblood would get the hint,” he added, this time louder.

You did stop.

Spinning on your heel, you faced him, wand already sliding into your hand.

“I don’t have time for your obsession, Malfoy.”

He laughed—lazily, arrogantly. Crabbe and Goyle smirked behind him. Pansy twirled a strand of hair and looked bored.

“And I don’t have time to explain to Muggle rejects how this world works.” He took a step closer.

You raised your wand.

But before either of you could speak—

“She doesn’t need to hear it from you.”

The voice was even. Cold. A hint of anger and yet somehow, calming.

Theodore Nott stepped out from the side corridor, hands in his robe pockets, his gaze fixed on Malfoy like he was the one out of place.

“Really, Draco,” he drawled. “Isn’t it exhausting? All this barking with nothing to bite?”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Are you really defending her now? The mudblood? ”

Theo arched a brow. “No. Just tired of listening to your voice.”

For a moment, no one moved.

Then, with a sneer, Draco turned on his heel and stalked off, muttering under his breath. The rest followed. You were left standing there, stunned. Breathing hard. Theo looked at you once. Briefly. A flicker of something unreadable in those dark eyes.

“Watch your back,” he said. Then he walked away.

You didn’t sleep that night.

After that day, something shifted. You noticed him more. More than you did before. It was suffocating. His presence. Demanding to be noticed. And he was always, around you. The way he passed you ingredients in Potions without asking. How his hand would linger just slightly too long when he passed parchment back. The fact that he started showing up in the library—never sitting beside you, but always close enough to notice.

You never spoke about it.

But tension? It hummed between you like the low throb of a cursed object. Slow. Irresistible. Sometimes he'd speak. Little things. Comments under his breath that made you smirk.

“You brew like a Slytherin,” he’d murmur one day, nodding at your perfectly-executed Draught of Peace. "Oh please don't. I brew like a Gryffindor. I'm good at it". He'd just smile. The kind of smile you wouldn't notice unless you really paid attention. The little twitch of his lips. The way his eyes softened momentarily. The way he looked, at you.

“You always watch people the way you read books?” he asked another evening, not looking up from his Arithmancy text. It was getting to be too much. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Everytime you were in his vicinity, blood rushed to your cheeks and your usual calm demeanor broke. He was reeling you in, and you let him. Last year isn't it? This should be okay.

One night, during a storm, you both ended up in the Room of Requirement—accidentally. You’d needed quiet. He’d needed solitude. The room gave you both. You sat across from each other in a makeshift greenhouse filled with magical plants glowing in the dark.

Neither of you moved to leave.

That night, he told you he hated blood supremacy. That he didn’t believe in Voldemort. That he didn’t trust most of his House. That night, you realized, he was different. He was stuck in this without a choice.

That night, you realized Theodore Nott was baring his soul to you.

That night, you realized you wanted to protect the sweet boy under all this, darkness he was trying to escape.

That night, you realized you didn’t hate him.

While both of you had some sort of secret friendship brewing that nobody else in Hogwarts knew about, it all shattered that winter night.

December snow had blanketed the courtyard. The Room of Requirement had shaped itself into a forgotten tower—stone walls, a fireplace, cushions on the floor. You met him there every other night now. He stood by the window that night, tense.

“What’s wrong Theo?” you asked, sensing it immediately.

“They're watching,” he said. “The Carrows. Even Snape. Things are changing.”

You approached slowly. “Are you in danger?”

He didn’t answer. Just turned.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said finally, voice low. Strained. “Whatever this is.”

Something inside you cracked.

“What...you mean me...?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“I mean…” He looked at you—eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. “You. Us. Hogwarts isn’t safe. You need to focus on surviving. Not… this.”

The silence that followed was the loudest thing you’d ever heard.

You stepped back.

“Then go.”

He didn’t. Not for a few seconds. But then... He turned.

"Don't you dare walk away unless all of this meant.. Nothing.. to you Theo. Unless, I, meant nothing".

He stood, almost frozen for a second. You could hear his breathing, ragged. You hoped, you really hoped he'd turn around again. You didn't want words, or any meaning to all these shared secret conversations and memories between you two. You just wanted him to stay. Just to know that it meant something to him, not even as much as it meant the whole entire world to you now. Instead he left. The door closed behind him like the snap of a wand breaking.

And you… you didn’t cry. Not yet.

But you knew, with that same painful certainty you once felt staring at your first Hogwarts letter, that the magic you’d found—whatever fragile, forbidden thing it was—had just been lost. The dull ache in your chest sharpened. Your throat constricted, like you had been cursed. You sank to the floor. Finally letting the sobs rip through you.