It's Game Day. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Everyone's buzzing with anticipation and house pride. You lean your head against your fist, nursing a cup of tea as you watch Theo gobble up plate after plate. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head.
Theodore's already dressed in his game sweater. It clings to his body and shows off the hard work he puts in to be a member of the Quidditch team.
"Whot?", he asks, almost spitting out his beans on toast.
You grimace with a shake. "Nothing. I'm just fascinated to see how much food you can inhale in such a short time."
He wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "I need my energy to perform. Since Draco dropped out we need to be on our A-game."
That's a new fact. You look over to your cousin, who looks really solemn and tired with ginormous dark circles under his eyes. The Dark Lord's mission takes a lot out of him. The worst seems to be the cursing of Katie Bell. After the incident, he just looks like pure shite.
Clearing his mouth for real with some juice, the dark-haired boy turns towards you, a serious look on his face. "Will you- will you wear my practice hoodie? I promise I washed and kept it nicely. I even spritzed it with my cologne and I-"
You watch amused by how Theo anxiously rambles on. He wrings an emerald green fabric between his hands. His hoodie. Because wearing someone's Quidditch practice hoodie is practically telling the whole school that you're together without actually saying it.
Laying two fingers on his lips, you actively shut him up. His whole face and neck are red as he looks at your fingers on his lips. "I would be honoured to wear your hoodie."
A giant, radiant smile takes over Theo's face and he nods, a lovesick look in his eyes. "Cool. Great." He gives you the hoodie and you immediately put it on, shedding your own sweater. The heavenly and familiar scent of sage hits your nose and you breathe in deeply.
The two of you enjoy the remainder of breakfast in blissful peace until the captain hits Theo on his shoulder as a sign they have to get ready.
"Good luck and be safe out there." You grab his hand and squeeze it tightly.
He does the same and gives you a smile. "For you? Always."
After the players have left for the stadium, the spectators follow soon after. You join Pansy and Lorenzo, who look not all surprised to see you in Theodore's hoodie.
As this is your first time watching a Quidditch match in a very long time, you're buzzing with energy. The three of you find fairly good spots where you have a great overview of the entire pitch.
It's exhilarating, watching the players soar through the sky, passing balls to each other and dodging bludgers. Theo manages to score a few goals and you cheer every time, jumping up and down.
You hate to admit it, but Ron's on fire. Stopping goal after goal, he's doing a really good job. But sadly, that means that Slytherin's not scoring.
The final signal is heard and you see Harry fly around victorious with the Snitch in his hand. Just as Theo wants to dismount from his broom, a bludger comes flying out of nowhere and hits him in the back of the head. And hard.
A scream unexpectantly escapes your chest as you watch Theo drop from a considerable height. Dread settles into the pit of your stomach as he stays down. He gets loaded onto a stretcher, his hand hanging limply over the edge. You quickly turn around and push yourself through the masses to get to Theo.
Once you reach the hospital wing and are finally let in, Theodore's awake. Praise Merlin.
You rush towards his bed as tears pool into your eyes. But you're trying hard to not let them escape. "Thank Salazar, you're fine! I was so worried! Where are you hurt? Did you break something?"
Theo looks up at you with wide, blank eyes, his lips parted. "I'm sorry... but do I know you?"
Your breath hitches and you clutch his hoodie. "I-I'm... I'm your... Teddy, it's me. I'm your fiance."
"Teddy? That one is new." His face breaks into a stupid grin that tells you he was joking. A cruel joke at that.
The floodgates open and you begin sobbing. "Theodore Nott you fucking dick! I tho-thought you lost your mem-memory." You stumble over your words and try to wipe away your tears.
You feel him grab your elbow and Theo pulls you into his chest. He lets you run your course until you're calmed down.
"I know I promised to not get hurt but I-"
You interrupt his stupid ass excuse by grabbing his head with both hands and pressing your lips against his. At first, it is soft and Theo's frozen. But as soon as one of his hands cradles the back of your head he's all in it.
Hands slide from faces to necks and back, noses bump against each other, and bodies feel like they're morphing together. If someone told you that it would feel like crawling into each other's skin, you would have called bullshit.
Getting light-headed, you attempt to break the kiss. But Theo has other plans. He chases after you, trying to savour the taste of your lips. Once he finally lets you go, he connects your foreheads and wipes away the final tear.
"I'm sorry baby. I didn't mean to scare you." He nudges your nose with his own to evoke a smile from you.
You're still a bit out of breath as you notice you've crawled into his lap while kissing him.
"Real dick move, Teddy."
He pecks your lips as an apology. "Please say that again...", he whispers between kisses.
"Teddy." You lay your hands on his shoulders and squeeze. He hums content and starts to kiss you more feverishly.
"Teddy."
He breaks away and holds your face in his hands, pure happiness written all over his face as he looks at you. "Merlin, I love you", he whispers, his thumbs rubbing circles over your smouldering cheeks.
Closing your eyes, you move back in and rest your nose against his cheekbone. "I love you too", you whisper back.
You and Theo stay like that until you're kicked out by Madam Pomfrey, claiming that Theo needs his rest and that you can visit him tomorrow again.
With a pout, the dark-haired boy gives you one last kiss until you're practically dragged out by the matron.
Taking a detour to the common room you spot Draco walking in the distance with a bottle in his hands. He isn't... going to drown his sorrows out, is he?
Concerned for your cousin, you follow him again to the Room of Requirement and watch as he unscrews the cork. He produces a small flask out of his inner pocket and drops the entirety into the large bottle.
"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out horse and in a whisper, scared if you speak out loud, someone will find you.
He whisks around and hides the bottle behind him. "Nothing", he hisses.
Marching up to the table, you jank the flask out of his hands and inspect for any label. You take a subtle whiff and something pungent hits your nose. Poison.
"Draco!", you gasp, practically throwing the empty flask on a table, "what is your plan? March up to Dumbledore and force-feed him the poisoned liquor?"
He angrily turns towards you, baring his teeth. "I am not that stupid!"
"So, have someone else do it for you? Imperio another student and have them deliver it to the professor? Like you did with Katie Bell?"
Angry tears start to form in your cousin's eyes as he grabs both of your shoulders and rams you against something. You let out a whine as the handles of a closet dig into your back.
"You have no right of speaking! You have it easy! You don't need to kill someone because your father fucked up!" Draco screams in your face but you don't cower away. You keep staring at him with a cold look and wait until he's done.
Pushing him harshly away from you, he trips over his feet. "Don't you ever lay your hands on me again", you growl between your teeth, looming over the shaking boy. "Oh little Draco Malfoy has it hard? Little Draco Malfoy has to do something he doesn't want to?" You take a step forward, and he crawls backwards, fear in his eyes. You pout and angrily mock him in a baby-like tone.
"Well, guess what? THAT'S MY WHOLE LIFE! If there is someone with the right to speak, it's me! Did you know that your mommy came to me this summer, begging for me to protect you? Where was that when I got the Dark Mark? When I was forced to torture an innocent man? Where was that where I — a child of fourteen — was wed off to the highest bidder?
"Nobody gives a crap about my feelings because I am the heir of Tom fucking Riddle and it is expected of me. So don't you dare to lash out at me!"
Your body is buzzing with anger, your hands itching to grab your wand and lash out towards Draco. Instead, you storm out of the overcrowded room.