Read between the lines
Theodore Nott x reader
Warnings: limited swearing, kissing
Description: The reader comes to terms with their feelings for Theo through the narrator and the narrator's subconscious.
The Slytherin dormitories were by far the best out of all the houses and that wasn’t something you thought just out of bias or pride for your own house, it was the objective truth. While the other houses shared their dormitories with anywhere from one to four roommates (to foster teamwork or cooperation, you presumed), the Slytherin dormitories were one to a room (likely to foster individuality and self-dependence). Gryffindor had some system to stop the boys from entering the girls’ dormitories apparently, a shame for them, really, because Slytherin trusted its students enough that no such system was implemented for you. Sure, there was the occasional pregnancy scare but no more than the amount that came out of the girls sneaking into the boys rooms in Gryffindor. And, as if that wasn’t enough, each room had its own private en suite bathroom to add that extra level of superiority over the other houses.
Everyone in Slytherin liked to boast that their room was the best. Between the designer decorations their parents bought them and the hours they spent rearranging furniture, it could occasionally get a little competitive. Your own room was nice but nothing too fancy. Of course, your parents were well off (that was basically a prerequisite of Slytherin), but they weren’t the kind to show that off. Only your father had gone to Hogwarts and, unlike you, he was a Hufflepuff, so he was always a firm believer in having a more modest amount of belongings. Your room definitely had his influence, with sketches of his favourite dragons, cuts of plants from his garden, and an old mirror of his.
Of all your friends’ rooms, it was Theo’s that you found to be “the best.” That’s why you were headed there to study with him in the comfort of his sheep’s wool blanket (and occasionally his arms if you were too tired to bother). It was a study nook rather than a bedroom, with enough books to fill a library and a collection of antique pens. Truly, the best place to study, the best place to be and the best of the Slytherin bedrooms.
“Excuse me, Y/n L/n?” You turned at the sound of your name to see a tall, olive-skinned girl with blue lining in her robes standing awkwardly amongst a small group of girls.
Not all of them were from your year but the one who called your name certainly was. Last year you had… What was it? Oh yes, you had Care of Magical Creatures with her. She had her bow stolen straight from her black hair by a pixie and Draco, ever the kind boy, had teased her relentlessly about it for the rest of the week. Quite hypocritical of him, considering his own track record with magical creatures, but it wasn’t any of your concern. Her name was something like, Ann or Sam or… Sue! Sue Li (you were never good with names).
“How can I help you, Li?” You said politely, unsure whether she’d prefer you call her by her first or last name, “There isn’t anything wrong, is there?”
“No, no, everything’s fine, um,” she barely made eye-contact with you, her head tilted to the left to hide her gaze, “You’re friends with Theodore Nott, right?”
A half-laugh escaped your lips at the coincidence that she was asking after the very person you were on your way to see. It took her aback, her face lighting up with offence before you quickly apologised, explaining that you hadn’t meant to laugh at her, rather, at the coincidence you found yourself in. She nodded and her shoulders relaxed, like a weight had been taken off them by your openness to chat.
“I was just wondering, you know, Valentine’s is next week, and, well…” Li danced around the point of the conversation for a while, stalling with enough ‘uh’s and ‘erm’s to last you a lifetime, “I was wondering if he — Nott, that is — had a date?”
Valentine’s day. You’d forgotten about that. Never in all your years had you celebrated Valentine’s day (not that you hadn’t wanted to). Neither had Theo as far as you knew (not that he hadn’t wanted to). He wasn’t really the romantic type, to be honest, he’d never so much as mentioned a crush or told you he found someone attractive, let alone talked to you about a Valentine’s date. Theo was the private type, he didn’t like parties or team sports or group projects, Merlin’s beard, he didn’t even like it when people went in his room (other than you, of course). To think he would agree to a date with someone without talking to you and having an entire identity crisis first was out of the question. So, you supposed the short answer was no.
“I don’t believe so,” you told Li.
“Oh! Good! Well, then, would you give him this?” She asked and handed you an envelope sealed with a little blue and silver spot of wax.
Before you even had the time to answer she had waved a ‘thank you’ and skipped off in the other direction, giggling with her friends. You blinked twice and pocketed the envelope, turning on your heel to continue your journey to Theo’s room. On your walk through the halls you found your fingers blindly playing with the wax seal in your pocket. As if of their own accord they were picking it off. Letters are a confidential thing, and you knew for sure (well, you were pretty sure) Theo would be (maybe slightly) upset if you opened his letter without permission. You already knew what was inside, it was obviously a declaration of love.
Would Theo like a love letter? Truthfully, he presented as the kind of guy that would hate the complexity of a love letter. If, say, you were to confess your love to Theo (not that you were in love with him or whatever, but just for argument’s sake), what would you do? He’d like for you to tell him casually, you thought, as if it was just another everyday conversation. Grand gestures weren’t his thing, he was a quiet guy, a reserved guy, again: a private guy. The intimacy of the moment would be enough for him; your arms slightly grazing each other as you sat side-by-side in his bed, your faces so close that you’d be breathing the same air, your legs interlocked under the sheets (because if no one else saw it, it wasn’t happening, right?). You didn’t love Theo, but you knew how you would love him (liar, you wanted him). What? (You had ripped the envelope in your hand by the time you got to the entrance to the Slytherin common room).
“Password?” The portrait of Elizabeth Burke, an ancestor of yours, asked as if you didn’t see her every day.
“Slytherins are supreme,” you replied and she swung forward to let you in.
“Pass, poppet,” she said fondly, “Remember to make our family proud.”
The response you gave her every day escaped your mouth robotically — something like ‘always do’ or whatever it was — and you stepped into the common room. Almost home. ‘Home’ wasn’t your room, no, despite the multitudes of furniture and decorations that were from your actual house in rural England, you didn’t feel as at home in your own room as you did in Theo’s (I wonder why). Shut up. (Theo’s room was nice and all, but it was just another room. The same bricks that built yours had built his. They were identical down to the centimetre, apart from the odd extra piece of furniture and a few of your own personal touches—) Merlin’s beard, who’s story is this? (— The only real difference between your room and his was that yours didn’t have him.) Pansy interrupted you on your way, her hair in two braids. Over the years it had grown rather long, from just under her chin when you were all first years to her shoulders. (Some of your other friends had grown too, a particular Theodore Nott comes to mind. Where once was a short, meagre little boy, was now a man who towered over you with just the right amount of muscle to attract you). Stop it, please.
“Are you going up there to snog him?” Pansy teased (she gets it), “You guys never get your homework finished and, quite frankly, it’s a little suspicious.”
“We’re just friends who have too much to talk about,” you laughed (but it was laced with a sense of pride. Did other people think you were snogging him? Did the two of you appear like a couple?).
Pansy scoffed, not believing a word you said (as she shouldn’t) but too exhausted from double Defence Against the Dark Arts to argue with you. At the door to Theo’s room, you paused and let your fist hover above the deep brown wood. Nerves? You were just going to study, like you always did. Why on earth would you be nervous? (Maybe because you liked him and it was finally dawning on you that, by Salazar, you’d torn up a love letter that was surely going to get chased up. How did you plan to lie your way out of, or even justify that decision?) The door opened before you got the chance to knock and your eyes were blessed with the sight of Theodore Nott, who looked down at you with furrowed brows.
“Why are you just standing here?” He asked.
“Sue Li gave me a letter for you,” you said, refusing to acknowledge his question.
“That Ravenclaw girl who got her bow stolen last year in CoMC?”
The nod you gave him shook a loose eyelash from your eyelid and you watched it fall down onto your cheek then pushed straight past him and made yourself comfortable in his bed (and he was alright with this despite all these claims of being a “private person” because anything for you, Y/n, dear). It was only Autumn but already the Winter chill was starting to settle into the centuries-old uninsulated castle that was Hogwarts. Professor Flitwick cast a heating spell every year at the beginning of December but sometimes Autumn got nippy enough that students would go beg for it to be cast a bit earlier. Hopefully, that would be the case this year. The sheep’s wool blanket was a blessing on your legs that were previously covered only by your crappiest thin stockings.
“Can I see the letter?” Theo pushed.
You looked up at him through mascara clad eyelashes, one lash less thick than minutes prior, and silently prayed that your tongue would fall out so you’d never have to embarrass yourself by telling the truth. (You couldn’t lie to him, not to Theo). Would you like to take over? (I really, truly would.) Fine. Go for it. (Much appreciated. Theo could see through you, that was something you really admired about him. Transparency came easy when the other party already seemed to know everything.
“I threw it away,” you said.
Were you ashamed? Of course you were. There was always the chance that Theo may have liked Li or wanted to get to know her and you had taken it upon yourself to, quite literally, throw that chance away. Theo didn’t mind, though. He elbowed you until you slid over to the other side of his bed to make room for him under the covers and he sat down next to you. It was perfect. Exactly how you’d imagined it. Your arms were like atoms, so close but never daring to touch. Your faces had closed in and the air you breathed was hot and moist. It was his air. Under the blanket his legs sought yours out like an explorer wandering through uncharted land. When they found yours they locked, knowing they were where they wanted to be.
He took a breath in, inhaling you, “Why did you throw it away, Y/n/n, dear?”
“She wanted to be your Valentine’s.” He breathed out and you inhaled him in return.
He inched closer to let the tips of your noses touch, obscuring your vision and blurring his face, “I don’t even know her.”
He knew you. Theo had known you since the first time he saw you on the Hogwarts Express in your colourless robes with an excited but airy aura about you. Theo had known you since third year when he watched you verbally assault Draco so severely that you were handing his ass to him, stick and all. Theo had known you since fifth year when you slapped that Hermione Granger girl right across the face for insulting your family’s line of work. Although, perhaps, ‘knew’ wasn’t the right word.
“I don’t love her,” he said.
“Good,” you said with a smile, “Who do you love?”
“Let’s save it for Valentine’s day, eh?”
Right there in his face, you scoffed at him. Neither of you had ever celebrated Valentine’s day, there wasn’t a chance in all that is holy that you were going to start then. So, you leaned your chin in and captured his mouth in yours.
You pulled away, “Who do you love?”
“You, Y/n/n, you, you,” he rushed, stumbling over his words, “I love you.”
“I love you.”)
For @wolfstarmicrofic (look I read it ad bound but you know it works it’s fine. They’re about to bond over bondage after this meet cute😂)
Sirius landed in the rope suspension workshop on his own because his old Dom turned out to be a dick. The person running the workshop, Remus, said to come in anyhow because there would be someone for him to work with anyway. Butterfly wings brushed against his stomach as he stood off to the side. All the people there seemed to be in pairs, which was disappointing. A few of them had greeted Sirius, made small talk, but he still got the distinct feeling he’d end up alone.
“Hello everyone,” the instructor gave a single clap for attention.
This was the first time he saw Remus even though Sirius heard their name in his circle. They were gorgeous with strong arms and freckles on his shoulders that Sirius could plainly see thanks to their tank top. Their honey colored hair sat in a curly mess on their head, making Sirius want to run his fingers through it.
“Everyone grab a station if you haven’t.”
Sirius set his bag down next to a mat, watching Remus. The nervousness still bubbled under the surface because he hadn’t just imagined everyone came in pairs.
“Take a moment to get settled in, have some water, and take a look at your tools.” Remus’ hazel eyes seemed to land on Sirius and something clicked behind them.
A minute later Remus stood in front of him with a soft smile. “Sirius, right? I’m Remus, you had messaged me about coming alone.”
“Yeah, my ex decided to give me the tickets.” He gave a strained laugh. “I don’t think anyone needs a partner.”
Remus made a face. “Shit, yeah, normally there’s a few solo riggers, but—”
“Just my luck.”
“If you don’t mind, I could use a partner. My friend who normally joins me is ill, so.” Remus gestured to the front hard point. “I know some people don’t like being front and center so I’d understand.”
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could give it much thought. “Yes, I’ll do it.”
“Great. How do you feel about sparkly rope?”
“I’m down for any rope.” Sirius picked up his tote bag.
“Then I think we’re a match made in heaven.”
When you call "Baby", baby/Is such a sweet inspiration/And when you call me "Darling", darling/Sets my heart a-skating/And if I'm out in the rain, baby/And in a bad situation/You know I just reach back in my mind/And there I find your sweet, sweet inspiration.
The rain tapped against the window in a rhythm only nature could provide. Remus stared at the canvas in front of him filled with a mix of vivid and dark colors. His strokes, bold in some places but so small and blended in others. The grey eyes were filled with warmth, maybe fire depending on how you felt that day. The small smirk on the lips read up to no good.
“That’s me! Holy shit Moony! Oh my god, you haven’t painted in — I’m so fucking proud of you.” Suddenly Sirius’ arms were around him.
Remus’ heart thundered in his chest. He had hoped to store everything back in his room before Sirius got back. The light had been too good before the rain came and he had been so inspired that he just fell into the work. It’d been so long since he managed to pick up a paint brush and create. But then he thought of Sirius.
“I love it. I’m going to hang it in my room.”
Managing a laugh as Sirius still lingered close, and all he could smell was his woodsy scent, Remus shook his head. “Then you’ll really be leaning into being as vain as your last girlfriend said you were.”
“Nah, I just want to look at your work.”
Remus flushed. “Oh.”
Sirius nudged him. “I kind of want to kiss you right now?”
Surely his eyes popped out of his head. “You — what?”
Sirius bit his lip and nodded. “I mean, I do often…”
That sealed in then.