THEIR HANGOVER LASTED THE ENTIRE next day, even with the use of potions. Past that conversation about sex, Celestia didn't remember much. Thankfully.
Avoidance had been her forte for the past couple days, not just of Theo, but all three men. Her sleep had been full of terrors for the past couple nights, except for the night she'd practically passed out drunk; and that dream was the reason she'd been avoiding Theo.
It was the only time in the last two weeks that she hadn't had a bad dream. In fact, it was the complete opposite of a nightmare. Simply thinking of the dream from a few days ago had her eyes shuttering closed.
His hands threading through her hair before cupping the back of her head, his lips slanting over hers. She threaded her arms around his neck, and he pulled her closer until their hips were pressed together so close that not even a fraction of space separated them.
Dream Theo tilted her head back, sliding his tongue into her mouth and pushed her against the wall behind her. Her hands moved down over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and gliding her hands over those faint abs of his.
Groaning into her mouth, he tore his lips away and pressed them to her throat. She arched her neck, giving him more access, and pulled him impossibly closer by the belt loops of his jeans. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her, and she shifted, needing more friction, and they both groaned.
He left a trail of his kisses up her throat, nipping at the lobe of her ear. "We should probably stay quiet, darling."
She made a strangled noise, quelling it by biting her lip. He caught her jaw, and his thumb skimmed over her bottom lip, pulling it out from between her teeth. When his thumb still lingered, she pulled it into her mouth.
His eyes darkened with desire, and he pressed his thumb down on her tongue. A low rumble worked its way out of him, and she delighted in knowing the way she was affecting him.
His thumb slipped out of her mouth, and his fingers danced down over her body until they hooked underneath the hem of her shirt. The coldness of his rings teased her stomach, and the faint brush was enough to send goosebumps rising on her skin.
Yanking the shirt over her head, he threw it somewhere across the room. Her eyelashes fluttered, and he tilted his head down to press his forehead against hers. Barely restraining his control, his breath coming out roughly.
His lips hovering right against her own, but not quite pressing them. "I need you to tell me how far we're going to go. What do you want, baby?"
"You," she whispered. Each word made her lips touch his. "In every way possible, I need you."
Their lips met in a fervent, hurried kiss. Her hands found themselves in his hair, curling her fingers in the loose curls on his nape for purchase. She wanted to stay like that forever; Theo's lips on hers, bodies pressed so tightly together than she didn't know where she ended, and he began.
His hand splayed against her bare skin now, she shivered. One hand moved to cup her hip, the other fisting all of her hair and tugging, giving himself perfect access from down her neck, over her collar, and the curve of her shoulders—
"What are you thinking?" A voice broke through the memory of her dream.
She yelped. Literally yelped, splashing the tea out of her cup and onto the counter. Heart pounding wildly in her chest, she spun around to face Theo. Her entire body felt as if it were burning alive, and she hoped that the evidence of it didn't stain her skin pink.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he took a step forward. "Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed."
He raised a hand as if he planned to press the back of his palm to her forehead. She jumped backwards, not sure if she could handle his touch. He balled his hand into a fist and lowered it.
"Sorry, I didn't sleep well last night," she apologised.
Guilt tore up her stomach at rejecting his touch, knowing that the act had been innocent concern. Not only that, but she feared that her dream had violated him in some way. She loved him, but he was still her best friend. Even if the line between platonic and romantic was beginning to blur, there was still very much a line.
His jaw clenched. "You haven't slept well for the past two weeks."
"You know," she stated more than asked. Of course he knew.
It was New Year's Eve, officially past her one-year anniversary of her kidnapping and torture. She knew this was coming, except a small part of her had hoped they would leave this conversation unsaid. Everything in her cooled at the thoughts of her nightmares.
"I saw the look in your eyes. That alone was enough to tell me they had returned. There was also the fact that I went from hearing every breath you took, every shift you made, every mutter you said, to hearing nothing. I'm not an idiot. I knew you were putting up the Muffliato Charm," he explained.
"And you didn't say anything?" she questioned, though not unkindly.
"I know you like to think I'm some overbearing prick, but I have boundaries. You weren't in the right emotional state to talk about it, so I wasn't going to make you," he said.
"I still don't think I'm in the right emotional state," she admitted.
"No, you're probably not, but in all likelihood, you never will be," he replied. "If you really don't want to talk about this, I'll drop it. But we both know you're not going to talk to Draco about this, and there's no way in hell you're going to talk to Regulus about this. I'd ask for you to speak with Pansy or Blaise, but obviously they're not here."
"Fine, we'll talk about this," she said.
His eyebrows raised marginally, clearly surprised she had agreed so easily. She picked up her tea from the counter and took a sip.
"My nightmares returned, yes. My kidnapping scarred every part of me, and I don't ever think I'll be the same again, but I like to pretend I didn't change because admitting that means that I have to admit that everything in my life got fucked up from the decision I made to become a Death Eater. Sometimes I question if I made the right the decision sans all that, but then at other times I find joy in the corrupt things we do. I don't know who I am and what decisions I made to make me the person I've become," she said.
He gave her a droll look. "Did you have to be so blunt about it?"
"You asked me about my feelings, and I told you. Would you rather me be cryptic? Oh, Theo, some nights I feel as if my skin is naught but a placebo in my sentience of agony," she said sarcastically.
"I don't know if I'm regretting asking about your emotions or glad that you opened up," he said.
"Both. Can we move on?"
"If I speak, will you interrupt me?" was his answer.
She took a large sip of her tea before placing it onto the counter behind her. Observing the boy in front of her, she knew whatever advice he gave would help her. Except, she wanted to live in ignorance for as long as she could.
Closing her eyes for a second, she let herself live in blissful ignorance for a moment longer. She sighed defeatedly and shook her head.
"No, I won't interrupt you, Theo," she said softly.
"Alright, I'm going to be just as blunt as you. Stop thinking what-ifs. What happened has happened, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I don't give a shit who you were or who you might have been if things had been different. All that matters is who you are now. Do you understand how much I respect and admire you? Nothing you did, or could do, would ever change that."
Emotion swelled in her throat. She couldn't help but whisper, "Really?"
On a certain level, she knew that he admired and respected her dearly. They wouldn't be friends if he didn't. But something about the way he had said it, a mix of reverence and worship, as if she truly could do no wrong.
"Really. I know there isn't much I can do for your nightmares, but you should know at this point that I'm here if you need anything. Also, you need to stop closing down whenever you're upset over something. It makes me feel like an arse whenever I make you talk to me," he said.
"It's in my nature," she whined, knowing she sounded juvenile, "but I'll try."
"Are we going to talk about the other thing that is bothering you?" he asked absently.
She stared at him for a long moment before slapping her hands over her face. Groaning into her palms, she separated her fingers slightly to peer through them.
"How the fuck did you know something else was bothering me?" she demanded.
Somehow, he always knew what she was feeling even when she tried to hide it. She could hide her deepest feelings from everyone. Even Draco, who she had known her entire life, struggled to grasp her emotions most of the time. And yet Theo always knew when something wasn't right.
He gave her look that said you already know the answer to that. She did, he'd told her thousands of times that he knew her like no other. It was a bone-deep knowledge, one that nobody else could ever come close to.
She needed him to needle her about her thoughts and feelings. As she'd told him earlier, it was a habit to close off communications about what she felt. But she needed to talk about them, and he knew that. Except, there was no way she would spill all her emotions when she believed it would burden someone else. Theo never made her feel that way; he always prodded her in just the right ways.
It was a silly moment to recognise it, but she finally realised just how deeply in love with him she really was. There would be no getting over him, not in this life. No man would ever be able to come close to him. Heedless of what happened between them — if they ever crossed that blurry line between platonic and romantic, which seemed doubtful at this point — he was it for her.
"It's New Year's Eve," she said as if it explained everything, which it sort of did. She continued anyway, "Do you know what we're usually doing at this time? Pansy and I are getting all pretty for the gala, with our high-end makeup and expensive dresses while you boys' goof around or do whatever you do down the hall. Then, we'd spend the entire night dancing and slightly tipsy on champagne."
"You miss them," he summarised the obvious.
"You don't?" she retorted, though not maliciously.
He nodded his head, moving to stand closer to her. "Of course I do." His throat bobbed thickly. "Everyday. They're like a phantom limb. I'll turn to them to make a joke, and I'm faced with the fact that they're not there. I know how you feel. We all feel it."
"I know. I just miss them terribly. Today is meant to be our day, you know?"
"Think of it this way. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, they're both going to be looking out at the stars. It's what we do every year, though usually with a firework show. We'll look out at the stars, too. Draco will join us, and Regulus as well if you'd like. But we will see them again soon, baby. I promise." He grasped her hands then. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
He led her away from the kitchen and out into the living room. He practically dragged her by her hands, and she put little effort into fighting it because she liked the way his hands aligned with hers.
For the first time since they had begun using the tent, the living room was clean. The blankets were all folded over the back of the sofas, and all the throw pillows usually strewn across the floor were placed meticulously around the lounge. Whether Theo had cleaned the room in anticipation for what he was showing her, she wasn't sure.
"Stay here," he ordered.
Abandoning her in the room, she frowned. She straightened out the invisible wrinkles of her skirt as she waited for him to return. The outfit she wore was similar to what she'd put on for Christmas. While it wasn't at all close to a fancy ball gown, she had wanted to put in some effort to look nice.
He returned and he was holding a weird looking box. The entire thing reminded her a little of a couple nights ago when he'd returned with a bottle of Firewhisky, and that reminded her of the dream she had that night. Heat pooled low in her belly.
She was in horrible need of a distraction. "What's that?"
"Remember when we were at Hampstead High Street, the day after we were attacked by the werewolf? The three of us went to that charity shop before the bookstore."
There was no way she could forget their stay at Hampstead High Street. Not because of the werewolf attack, but because she had finally realised that she was in love with him. She also remembered how she and Draco had joked around in said charity shop. They hadn't laughed like that in a while.
"Yeah, why?" she wondered, taking the item from his hands. She gasped and went on before he could answer. "Wait, is this one of those Muggle things? What do they call it? A mobile telephone?"
He laughed. "No. It's a radio. It was a broken radio, but since we have magic, I just used the Mending Charm and it was as good as new."
Furrowing her eyebrow, she fiddled with the so-called radio. It was black and required her to hold it with two hands when it was horizontal. There were a ton of buttons and a long metal rod coming out the top.
"What is a radio?" she asked.
"It plays music as well as broadcasts information. Which means you can listen to music anywhere you want," he explained ineptly.
She looked up at him with bright eyes, what he was doing clicking in her mind. He grinned, knowing she knew. Taking the radio from her hands, he messed around with a couple things before a man's voice filtered out of it, introducing the name of the station.
Placing the radio on top of the fireplace mantel, the man who had introduced the station now told them the song name and artist coming up next.
"We're going to dance," he said, offering her his hand.
Laughing, she listened to the first notes of Louis Prima's Jump, Jive, An' Wail fill the lounge. "I don't think the waltz will fit here, Theo."
"Nobody said anything about the waltz, darling." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, saying the words the same time as Prima, "Let me teach you how to jive and wail."
She couldn't deny the way the song made her want to dance. "Seriously?"
"No, I have no clue how to jive nor wail. I can jump though, if that counts for anything," he grinned.
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face betrayed her joy. "We can learn together."
One of Theo's arms curled around her waist and his hand splayed just above the small of her back, the other hand clasped hers to their side. Her hand laid on his shoulder, and they moved together to the song.
Neither of them knew the proper way to dance to this particular song, but they tried — horribly. It was so awful that they couldn't help but laugh. Her hips swayed as she followed Theo's steps. His hips moved too, though with much less prowess.
He spun her under his arm, and then whirled her outwards. Twirling her around, he swapped her to his opposite arm. They were pressed tightly together again, and her shoulders shimmied in a way she couldn't help.
The way they danced was mindless — and not in the way of memorised steps, but in the way that lacked talent but expressed euphoria — and Celestia couldn't help but beam up at him. She was practically mooning.
Grinning, Theo spun her out again. She did something silly with her feet that had him nearly doubling over with laughter, and after he pulled her back, she jabbed him in the stomach. It only made him laugh harder, and she couldn't help but join in.
Undeniably, the song made you want to dance, especially if you didn't know how exactly to dance to it. Which they certainly didn't. The entire song consisted of weird foot movements, non-sensual hip sways, and a whole lot of swinging.
When the song came to its final note, she was surprised to find that she was a little breathless. Her hand fisted the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt on his shoulder. His hand still gripped hers, as if he couldn't bear to let go of her.
Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley began to play over the radio, and she shook her head. "I don't think I can dance like that again."
"Are you sure? Because with the way your body is moving, I find that hard to believe," he teased.
Her body, in fact, had begun to dance to the song. She tried to stop but couldn't quite quell the faint sway of her hips that didn't fit with the slow dancing limbo they had gotten themselves into.
"It's a good song! You can't blame me," she retorted.
His hand slid down from her waist to her hip, making them pick up their tempo. With the arm that paralleled hers, he began to rock their arms with much more vigour.
"Come on, you know you want to," he said with a singsong voice.
She only held out a couple seconds longer before a large grin slipped out onto her face, and she was matching him beat for beat. This time round, they didn't spin around as much. He moved backwards, and she would follow after him and vice versa.
However, when he did twirl her around, her skirt would fan out around. It made her wish she'd packed something that flowed out around her more. She saw the way he was fascinated by the way her skirt billowed out, his gaze lingering on her lower half.
"Eyes up here, pretty boy," she quipped.
His eyes returned to hers, and he gave her a wicked smile. "Stop moving your hips like that then, pretty girl."
"Fucking wanker," she said, lacking heat, her eyes twinkling.
"Only for you," he declared.
"I can't tell if that's sweet or kind of creepy," she said.
He purposefully spun her out then, trying not to look down at her skirt. "Can't it be both?"
Pulling her back to him, her hand found its place where his neck met his shoulder. They were significantly closer than before, but neither moved to amend the missing space.
They continued to banter softly, dancing as they did so. Eventually the song began to fade out, and the firm voice of the radio announcer pierced their bubble for a moment.
"On the road of romance, passing by our King of Rock and Roll, let us greet the classic Put Your Head on My Shoulder by Paul Anka."
The song faded in as his voice faded out and she snorted. "What a complete change of tone."
"Time to slow dance," he grinned.
She groaned. "When we had to watch all the poor people slow dance at the Yule ball because they had no idea how to ballroom dance. I was so horrified."
"That sounds pretty elitist, but I do have to agree, it was pretty bad," he acknowledged. "Slow dance with me. Don't make me get on my knees and beg."
For a second, her eyes went a little unfocused and she hummed. "I do like it when you're on your knees, but I'll let you keep your dignity intact for now."
"Do you think of it often?" His voice was low as he murmured to her. "Me, on my knees, begging?"
Her eyes flared, and she couldn't help that her mind flashed with the memory of her dream a couple nights ago. She did, in truth, think of him on his knees. Especially more now after said dream.
"Do you think of it often? Being brought to your knees by me? Entirely at my mercy?" she replied.
He choked. "This conversation is not at all appropriate for this song."
"Then, let's just slow dance," she said, glad to move on.
Theo's arm went around her waist, pressing her tightly against him. Her arm curled around his shoulder, and she pressed her brow to the edge of his throat. With the way her head was positioned, her gaze was homed in on their interlocked hands off to the side.
Though she didn't consider it dancing, the two of them slowly swayed from side to side together. They didn't do much more than that, and she relished in the soothing repetitive movement.
And while memories still haunted her of her explicit dream — even while she yearned to know what kind of lover he really was, she couldn't help but love moments like these; where her belly hurt from laughing, and her cheeks ached from grinning.
Except, the dream wasn't the only thing tormenting her mind. It was something else he had told her about days ago, and since she had been avoiding him, hadn't had the chance to bring up.
"Why didn't you tell me about them?" she blurted out, before realising he had no clue what she was talking about. "Why didn't you tell me about your nightmares?"
He sighed. "I told you why. Your nightmares are worse—"
"Don't do that."
"Do what?" The words rumbled out of his chest.
"Downplay your experience because I have it harder than you," she said.
She felt crappy just admitting that, even if she knew on a certain level that her trauma in this retrospect was worse. Still, his nightmares mattered. She wanted to comfort him when they happened, wanted to know how she could help prevent them in the future. The fact that they had been going on for months, and she hadn't known, made her feel sick to her stomach.
"The day you found me . . . it's hazy. I can't even imagine what I must've looked like. I recall tears and blood and how much pain I was in. And your touch. I remember little, but I will always know you." Theo's thumb brushed over the back of her hand. "Despite remembering that, I never really thought about what it must have been like for you. Seeing me like that, fuck, I don't what I would've done if the roles had been reversed."
His head moved to the side, lips skimming over her hair. The simple touch of his lips had her shivering.
"I'm going to be honest with you. The ten days you were missing were the worse days of my life."
The confession made her heart give one ferocious beat.
"Vividly, I can remember Pansy running into the Leaky Cauldron, and I knew something was wrong. She didn't even have to speak before I was running to Merlin knows where. Everyone followed after me, and we got to where Pansy said you'd been." He took in a shuddering breath. "Your bags were strewn all over the alley, and then I saw your wand. I nearly threw up."
Squeezing his hand, she tried to offer him silent reassurance. She tried to imagine what it would be like if she discovered that Theo had been abducted, and her vision went red at the thought.
He continued, seemingly oblivious to her anger. "We gathered your stuff and went back to the Malfoy Manor. Thus, our ten days of trying to find you began. We got no information for nine fucking days about where you were. I was going mad. But Blaise and Draco had been focusing on the Burrow, and you basically know the rest."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I swear to Merlin, if you're apologising for being kidnapped. . ." He trailed off and waited for her to rebuke him. She didn't. "I am going to kill you."
"Good. I'm glad you will be the one getting the honours," she said.
He cursed under his breath, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sure if I don't kill you first, you'll be the death of me."
"Oh, I can promise you that," she assured him.
She could practically hear him roll his eyes but didn't say anything as the song faded into a new one. She didn't once complain about slow dancing with him.
Long into the night, they continued to dance, simply enjoying each other's company. They lived in their own bubble; the quiet crackle of the fire, soft tunes crooning from the radio.
It was only when it began to close in on midnight that they separated. Draco had been about to go to bed, and Regulus had actually been asleep, but with a couple minutes to spare, they all stumbled out into the clearing.
They had an unobstructed view of the sky, and the four of them stood tightly together in the cold, the forest still lacking snow. With the help of a pocket watch, they initiated a hushed countdown until 1998.
When the clock hand struck midnight, and the distant noise of fireworks from a nearby Muggle town mixed with the faint sound of nocturnal life, they stared up at the starlit sky.
And all the way across the country, Pansy and Blaise gazed up at the very same sky and prayed that their friends were still alive.
AUTHORS NOTE
hi hi! sorry that this chapter is super short, but i think it would be best if i kept all the drama to the next chapter because otherwise this one would either end in cliffhanger or be WAYYY too long and you wouldn't get this chapter for a couple more weeks.
so here is a chapter dedicated entirely towards celestia & theo. please let me know what you thought!! also don't judge me too hard on the "smut" at the beginning, i've never written any before </3
also happy chapter fifty!! i never thought i'd be here when i began writing this, and i especially never thought i'd reach big chapter 50. i know i say this a lot, but thank you for all your support. seriously. it means the world.
OKAY GOODNIGHT! i haven't slept in over twenty-four hours because of the percy jackson actor announcement. i was, and still am, in shambles.
yours,
beth.