Fair Game | theodore nott

CHAPTER TWELVE

And as they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, it meant that the time was nearing and it meant that it would chip away at whatever composure Cecile had left towards the idea. She wondered if Blaise was freaking out as well. Maybe that's why there will be a bunch of alcohol at the gathering. To numb it all so they could get through the night.

Cecile wasn't much of a drinker with watching her mother spiral after the separation. But tonight she was beginning to strongly reconsider. And that somehow made her even more nervous.

"I can't believe he's really going through with it." She blurted out almost quietly while walking back to the castle with kegs of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey in hand. It wasn't a strange sight to find students at the Three Broomsticks ordering alcohol, but since she was already eighteen, no one really batted an eye.

"He's been thinking about it a lot actually." Cecile jumped at the sound of his voice, almost forgetting that Theodore was next to her. She must've been louder than she realized. "It was Draco that gave him the extra push, though. Said it would be a like big 'fuck you' to everything that's happened and Blaise was convinced."

"Is he nervous at all?"

"He thinks he isn't." Theodore scoffed, "You know Blaise, tries to act all composed and shit when in fact he's messed up as fuck about this. Bloody idiot."

She frowned, "You don't think this is a good idea?"

"I don't think much of it at all." Theodore shrugged, indifference wearing his face, "If he decides he wants to go back up there, then all I can do is be there next to him." Again, he scoffed and lowered his voice, "It's the least I can do."

Knowing what he meant, Cecile left it at that. Theodore was right. If Blaise wanted to face his fears this way, then good on him. There was a sense of admiration filling her chest whenever she thought of her close friend, and it grew ten times bigger that night.

He was simply amazing—something he was also smugly aware of.

As they reach the castle and walk through the empty halls, narrowly avoiding Filch, her legs become heavier as they get closer.

The stairs came into view and at that point Theodore was multiple steps ahead of her. Cecile made it to the first step before her legs couldn't move anymore. They were stuck there, no matter how much she attempted to push forward.

They just wouldn't move.

"Oi!" Cecile looked up to find Theodore now in front of her, looking rather impatient. "How many centuries is it gonna take for you to get up here? By the time you make it the stuff's gonna be stale!"

Right. Right. She still had the alcohol for the party. And they needed it. Blaise needed it.

So, why can't I move?

Move, you incompetent fool!

It was like some sort of glue was keeping her there. Like no amount of magic used would ever be able to get her off of that first step. Her legs had stopped functioning and refused to go any further, ignoring her weak protests.

Just let me go. Just let me do this for him!

Nothing.

Please.

Seconds went by before she realized the Butterbeer was gone from her hands. And so was Theodore.

Seconds had gone by before she had realized she had failed.

"Fuck." Cecile scowled as she sank to the ground, sitting on the first step. The weight on her back suddenly grew heavier and pinned her to the ground with emotion. It was in these moments she wished she had a broom, maybe it wasn't the healthiest thought she should've had in that moment, but Cecile couldn't bring herself to care anymore.