Purely academic. Just a research about Slytherin tongue skills. Tragic, really, that you had to volunteer as tribute. Though, judging by the way your legs shook, you weren’t exactly suffering.
w.c.3k
Draco was staring at his hands like he was trying to replay in his head every second of what they’d done to you in the library that very morning.
“I don’t think I actually grabbed her breast, you know” he said, tone almost academic.
“I didn’t get a proper handful… that part’s still on my list.”
Blaise let out a low, amused laugh.
“I still can’t believe you fucked her on the library floor, mate. You could’ve picked somewhere a little more romantic.”
Draco scoffed, filling his plate with mashed potatoes.
“Romantic? We’re talking about the girl who jumped me in a pub, Blaise. Hardly a delicate flower. She likes it rough, you see...”
“Well, clearly” Blaise grinned.
Draco reached for his fork, still thoughtful.
“Oh, and her legs. Can’t even remember if I left any marks. Should’ve paid more attention. She was trembling so hard I nearly lost my rhythm.”
“Merlin’s sake, mate, you sound like you’re writing a bloody report. What’s next, diagrams?”
Draco smirked, as his gaze flicked over to you again, before he went on.
“…I’m just saying it’s hard to keep track when someone’s clawing you raw. The marks haven’t even faded yet.” He tugged his sleeve back an inch, showing faint red lines along his wrist like trophies.
“And you know what she does when she comes?” Draco went on.
“She rolls her eyes back, completely loses it. Merlin, it’s… unbelievably hot. ”
He shook his head, lost in his thoughts.
“Now whenever she does it in class, it’s going to drive me mad. And she does it all the time! You must’ve noticed.”
Blaise just shrugged.
“I don’t exactly spend my time staring at her, Draco. You do enough of that for all of us.”
Draco only smirked wider, unashamed.
“Someone has to… and you can’t deny she’s quite worth the view”
Blaise finally gave the smallest shrug.
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying she’s…kind of yours, mate. I wouldn’t look at someone you like.”
Draco hummed in approval, spearing a piece of steak and biting down.
“So? You’re seeing her again?” Blaise continued, and Draco only shrugged.
“That’s what the princess decided.”
He chewed in silence for a few moments, eyes drifting back across the Hall to where you sat.
“If it were up to me, she’d already be bent over this table.”
Then he shook his head, irritation flickering across his face. “It’s just… I didn’t even do half of what I wanted. Didn’t even scratch the surface of what I had in mind.”
Blaise only shrugged, casual as usual.
“Heat of the moment... Happens.”
“Yeah, I know” Draco muttered, but his eyes locked on you again, laughing with your friends.
“Still… I’d have loved to get my head between her legs. Can’t stop picturing how she’d look being eaten out. And Merlin, I can’t wait to see her on her knees...”
Blaise shook his head, grinning.
“You know what gets me?” Draco went on, unable to shut up about you.
“She pretends she hates me, but she was the one moaning into my mouth. All that attitude…gone.” He gave a short laugh, shaking his head.
“Drives me mental.”
Blaise cut him a side glance, smirking.
“That’s textbook Gryffindor. They always act like saints until they don’t…or maybe your cock made her change her mind ”
Draco didn’t hold a laugh, dragging the last streaks of potato onto his spoon.
“I guess she needed a bit of a special treatm…” then he stopped narrowing his eyes.
“What the fuck does Finnigan think he’s doing?” Draco snapped, as Seamus Finnigan dropped into the seat beside you.
Blaise snorted.
“Talking to her, apparently. Don’t explode, mate.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed, watching Finnigan lean in a little too comfortably.
“Yeah, no chance he’s sitting that close to my girl.”
Blaise finally set down his fork.
“Your girl? Didn’t realize you two were official.”
“We’re not. But that doesn’t mean she can fuck around, does it?”
Blaise smirked into his goblet.
“Maybe he’s asking her about you.”
That made Draco flick his gaze toward him, suspicious.
“Plenty of people saw what went down in Hogsmeade yesterday night” Blaise went on, unbothered.
“You think word isn’t spreading? He could just be fishing for details.”
Draco mulled that over, the tight line of his mouth easing into a hum.
“Yeah… possibly. Still too close, though.”
He shifted his gaze back to you, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Maybe I should help him out. Go over there and give the whole table the full story.”
For a moment, he stayed put, chewing slowly, almost convincing himself to let it slide.
Then you split a muffin clean in half, slid one piece across to Finnigan, and watched him take a bite.
His lips curled in disgust.
“Yeah, not a fuckin’ chance” he muttered under his breath.
He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, then shoved his chair back and stood in one fluid motion.
Blaise sighed, half amused, half resigned.
“Here we go.”
When he reached the Gryffindor table, he just stopped behind you and Finnigan, his shadow spilling over you both.
“Afternoon” he drawled
His gaze swept the two of you, lingering on Finnigan.
“So, what’s it going to be? You two enjoying the gossip, or should I save you the trouble and give you the uncut version?”
Lavender nearly choked on her pumpkin juice and Seamus blinked, caught somewhere between confused and offended.
“Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, what are you rambling about this time? What story?”
“We were talking about weather charms, Malfoy” you chimed in, tone flat and bored.
“Why don’t you go back to your table and tell whatever story you want to your idiot friend?”
Draco smirked, irritation flickering in his eyes.
“Oh, but I imagine plenty of people at this table would find it fascinating. Don’t you agree, love?” He tilted your chin with two fingers, but even as you allowed it, your wand was already leveled under the table, aimed straight at him.
Noticing, he pressed a hand to his heart in mock agony.
“Oh, you wound me.”
“That’s the plan, love” you shot back.
“Careful now” he murmured, smirk curling.
“Wouldn’t want a repeat of the library incident.”
Seamus frowned, utterly lost.
“What the hell is he on about?”
You shoved your wand harder into Draco’s ribs, unimpressed.
“Leave.”
“Lower that down…” Lavender whispered, leaning in close
“Snape is watching you…”
Snape’s stare caught you from the professors’ table, cold and unwavering. Reluctantly, you put your wand away.
“Well, we wouldn’t want Professor Snape to take points off my favorite girl, would we?”
“Then fucking leave, Malfoy. You’re not welcome here!”
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Finnigan. Miss Attitude and I need a word.”
“About what, exactly?” you asked, daring him to slip and his smirk only sharpened.
“Oh, I don’t know… weather charms sounds like a fine subject. There’s a book in the library that can whip up storms, made quite a scene this morning when it sent half the shelf crashing down.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line, the allusion hitting its mark.
“Well I’m eating, now ” you said flatly, stabbing your fork into your plate.
“You can wait until I’ve finished.”
“Then I’ll wait here” he snapped, and before you could stop him, he dropped down shamelessly between you and Finnigan.
“The hell you are!” Seamus barked, shoving hard at his shoulder.
“Shut it, Finnigan. This is none of your business! ”
You tried to play it cool, lips pressed tight but the air around you was thick with tension.
Potter and Weasley, a few seats down, were already leaning forward, trading glances with Finnigan like they were just waiting for his signal to jump Malfoy.
On the other side of the table, whispers had broken out.
You caught Colin's wide eyes and even Granger’s audible sigh of irritation as she muttered something about immaturity under her breath.
“Fine” you snapped at last, slamming your fork down.
“For fuck’s sake, you’re insufferable” you muttered, pushing up from your seat.
The moment you cleared the doors of the Great Hall, you rounded on him.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem” Draco shot back instantly, stalking at your side
“...is that you said we’d do it again.”
“Seriously? That is your problem?” you snapped, incredulous.
“You said it!” His voice pitched higher, like a child denied sweets.
You groaned, throwing your hands up.
“I meant eventually, Malfoy, not three fucking hours later! What, you thought it was a three meals arrangement?”
“...You said it!”
“Merlin’s sake!” you huffed dramatically.
“If a single sentence ties me to some unspoken contract where you crash at my table, then consider that contract broken”
Draco cut in front of you, grey eyes sharp furious.
“Oh don’t act so outraged, Gryffindor! You are the one in the wrong here! You were moaning under me hours ago, and now you’re practically flirting at the Gryffindor table.”
“I wasn’t flirting, Seamus is a friend!”
Draco scoffed.
“You really are naïve, aren't you! Half the castle’s thinking about fucking you and you call it “friendship” and share bloody muffins.”
You groaned, exasperated, and shoved open the first door you found, luckily finding the room empty.
“This was a bad idea… a very stupid, drunk idea. It should’ve never happened.”
Something snapped in Draco’s head.
No chance in hell you were ending this now...not when it had barely begun!
So he sighed theatrically, let his body slacken, and slipped into the one talent he trusted most…
Lying.
“Listen” he said, jaw tight.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You stopped in your tracks, pivoting on him with a glare.
Draco dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.
“I’m jealous, alright? One second I’m telling Blaise how I can’t stop thinking about you, and the next I see you handing muffins to Finnigan like it’s nothing. It pissed me off.”
He thought he’d sold it perfectly.
But then your brow arched.
“So that’s what you were doing? Giving Zabini a full play-by-play of how you fucked me in the library?”
Draco held your gaze for a beat before his mouth curved into a grin, shameless and knowing.
“Well, I did fuck you in the library, didn't I?”
Shock flickered across your face, your mouth parting with the start of a yell, but what came instead was an annoyed smirk.
“Well in that case, maybe I can tell you what you did wrong , since you’re so desperate for feedback”
Draco’s smile faltered, irritation flashing in his eyes.
“You loved every second of it, Gryffindor. Spare us both the charade.”
“Could be…” you reluctantly allowed, crossing your arms.
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.”
The air shifted at once.
You caught it in his eyes, annoyance replaced by a flood of filthy thoughts, excitement sparking at thought of another round…purely for educational purposes...
He tilted his head, grin sharp.
“Go on, educate me.”
You froze.
That sentence had slipped out without much thought and now you couldn’t think of a single thing to follow it with.
Draco’s smirk widened at your silence, his lip caught between his teeth.
“What’s the matter, love? Cat got your tongue?”
Fuck, had his eyes always been that grey? That sharp?
The way they pinned you knotted your stomach, pressed your thighs tight, dragging back the library in your mind, only rougher, better, the way you’d been craving it all morning.
Draco’s eyes narrowed, reading every flicker across your face.
“Merlin… you’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?” he drawled.
“Why…” you said with an amused smile, gaze flicking to his lips.
“...you are not?”
His smirk curved sharper as he stepped in, crowding your space until your back hit the edge of the desk.
“Thinkind about what? About ruining you?” he murmured
“...been on my mind daily for years, really.”
You laughed slightly at his honesty, soft lips baring your vampiresque teeth for a second as his lips got closer.
Then your mind went deliciously blank, a deep ache pulling low in your stomach as you leaned in, closing the distance for a kiss.
Slow, brief, and anything, ANYTHING, but innocent.
The second your tongue grazed his lips, he broke.
His body surged forward like he’d been starving, hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise.
“You want to hear one of my poems?” you whispered, pulling back just enough to tease and he smirked, eyes raking over you like he could strip you bare with his gaze alone.
“Please” he drawled, thumb brushing eagerly the hem of your jumper., like he couldn't wait to get under it.
You smirked.
“They say Slytherins can talk their way into anything. Wonder what else those tongues are good for.”
Draco’s tongue swept across his teeth, his gaze unfocused for a heartbeat, like he was caught somewhere between hunger and control.
Then, he slid his wand free and whispered a casual “Muffliato.”
The hum of magic filled the classroom, the air thickening as the lock clicked shut.
Silence, heavy and absolute, fell around you.
“Charming. ” he drawled, fingers already tracing higher up your thigh,
“Let’s see what I can do… and this time,” his eyes flicked to the door
"...you can be as loud as you want, darling”
The next instant his mouth crashed onto yours. Rough.
Before you could blink, he had you lifted onto the desk, skirt hiked up and panties dragged down to mid-thigh.
You knew you shouldn't have goaded him.
But it felt so good to see that arrogant smile slip off his face, replaced by a look of pure hunger.
“Wait…” The word barely left your lips before dying the instant his tongue found you.
Then he devoured you.
Breath caught in your throat, as you bit down hard on the moan clawing up your throat.
Your elbows buckled, collapsing onto the desk that was far too fucking small to hold you, to let you stretch, to let even think about gettin comfortable.
Which became a real problem when your body started to shake, not even ten seconds in.
“Fuck…” you whimpered, hips rolling helplessly to meet his mouth.
Draco’s hands clamped tighter on your hips, possessive, determined to show you exactly what you’d been missing, strutting around as the high-and-mighty Gryffindor you clearly were not!
Every time your eyes flicked down, you caught the hunger burning in his gaze, like you were his favorite show and he wasn’t about to look away.
You tried to hold composure, but it shattered fast,as his lips sealed tight around your entrance, sucking hard at the sensitive flesh until your thighs clenched around him.
And when his mouth closed over your clit, sucking rough and merciless, you saw stars.
A groan ripped from your throat before you could stop it, nails clawing harshly into the desk.
If only you’d kept quiet …oh , god!
If only you had an ounce more composure, just a little bit…
If only you weren’t such a perv, if you could be something cleaner, softer, more of a fucking romantic or…
… fuck!
You cried out.
Your body spasmed, instinctively jerking back until you nearly slipped off the desk like a fool.
But Draco’s hands kept you in place, dragging you forward in one violent pull until you were seated flush at his edge of the table.
Before you could catch your breath, his fingers were on your face, gripping your cheeks hard enough to leave bruises as he leaned in close.
“Going somewhere, love?” he drawled,, thumb brushing over your lower lip hard enough to make you gasp.
You tried to muster a retort, lips parting, but you didn’t get further than that before his mouth crashed against yours, swallowing the word in a kiss so bruising it stole your breath.
In one swift motion, he spun you around, your palms catching against the wood for balance.
“Wouldn’t want you falling and hurting yourself” he whispered against your ear, breath hot, hands already roaming under your skirt.
“Not when I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
You felt his hand slid possessively between your legs, and you caught his wrist with the last spark of defiance you had left.
“That's not what I asked for, Malfoy” you panted, hips shifting against his hand anyway.
“But when do you ever listen?”
He laughed, almost tenderly, his fingers finding you slick, making you realize how fucking wet you were.
“Oh, trust me, love, you won’t be complaining” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.
And the moment his fingers pushed inside you, curling just right, you knew he was right.
Whatever protest had been on your tongue dissolved into a shudder, your body giving him the answer your mouth refused.
You cried out, hips bucking shamelessly as Draco's fingers drove into you.
His palm ground against your clit, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.
You could feel his fingers sliding inside you, the rasp of his breath hot against your neck, the thick press of his cock grinding into your backside.
Your grip on his wrist tightened, nails digging into his skin as you sought more.
Just.
Fucking.
More.
“Oh my god, Draco…” the words tore out of you before you could stop them.
The instant sound of his name on your lips wrecked him.
A guttural groan escaped his throat, raw and loud, like the very syllables had undone him.
It’s plan to make you come apart on his fingers like a puppet, completely went to pieces in that moment, replaced by the brutal, consuming urge to just bend you over that dusty desk and fuck you senseless.
“Fuck…” he groaned, rough and ragged.
You had barely two seconds to hear him unbutton his trousers before he gripped your hips roughly, shoving you forward over the desk.
Your skirt bunched high around your waist, your cunt already slick and waiting when he drove into you with a single brutal thrust. The force knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock burying deep inside as a hiss tore from his throat.
You cried out, nails raking across the wood of the desk as you pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with desperate bucks of your hips.
The desk screeched across the floor under the force of his movements, your mind unraveling.
How can he be this fucking good? How does his cock fit so fucking perfectly?
But then you reminded yourself, this was purely for educational purposes . Purely.
“Pull my hair…” you barely managed to gasp, the words breaking apart, and you hadn’t even finished before his hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back, sharp and merciless.
Your body shudders under the assault, every nerve alive with the raw intensity.
"...fuck...just like that..please." you babbled, the desk creaked beneath you, rocking with each powerful thrust.
In a moment is fist twisted in your hair, yanking you upright until your back slammed against his chest.
One hand slipped under your jumper.
Rough, possessive, he cupped your breast beneath your bra, your warm skin searing against his palm.
A shiver racing through you when the cold metal of his ring grazed your nipple while the other hand slid mercilessly down to your clit, circling with ruthless precision.
That was it, enough to wreck you completely.
Your body clung desperately to his hands, legs giving out as release tore through you, hot liquid spilling down your thighs while you shook violently in his grip.
Draco caught himself on the desk with one hand, the other locking you hard against his chest, because without him, you would have crumpled straight to the floor.
He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw, voice low and wrecked.
“Fuck, you’re perfect when you break like this.”
The words hit almost as hard as his thrusts, softened only by the sweet press of his lips against your cheek before he guided you carefully down to the floor.
You layed there, still annoyingly shaking, your body aching in more than one place as you tried to catch your breath.
After a moment, you turned to him, watching him tug his trousers back into place with maddening composure.
“You didn’t come?” you murmured, voice still hoarse, half-accusation, half-genuine disbelief.
“No…” He only murmured, no trace of displeasure in his voice.
“But don’t worry…you’ll make me come tonight.”
Your head snapped up.
“I…what?” you sputtered, yanking your jumper back down over your stomach.
“You’ve lost your bloody mind!”
“Three-course meal” he reminded you buttoning his cuffs with irritating calm.
“That’s what you promised.”
“I did not!” you shot back.
“I said the exact fucking opposite, Malfoy. Take that ridiculous idea out of your…”
You tried to push yourself upright, but your legs gave out instantly, and you collapsed back onto the floor with a frustrated huff.
“Need a hand? Or maybe a visit to the hospital wing?” Draco taunted, voice dripping with smug amusement.
“Please, Malfoy, let’s not overestimate yourself” you shot back, venom lacing every word as you crawled toward your knickers by the desk.
But before you could reach them, he snatched them up in one smooth motion.
“Temper, temper, Gryffindor” he said smoothly, twirling the fabric around his finger like a prize.
“You really should be nicer to me. After all, you owe me the best orgasm of your life ”
You instinctively rolled your eyes to the ceiling
“That’s debatable.” you murmured.
You turned toward the door, but his hand caught your arm, surprisingly soft.
“You know you do that when you come?” he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
You blinked.
“Beg your pardon?”
He leaned in, voice low, smug and lethal all at once.
“You roll your eyes when you come. Drives me insane.
So here’s the deal, next time I catch it, I won’t even try to stay away from you. And given how often you do it, I’ll be back inside you before the last candle burns.”
You stared at him, one brow arched, holding his gaze for a long, loaded beat.
Then your hand cracked across his cheek, sharp and unapologetic.
“You’re absolutely deranged.”
Without another word, you turned on your heel and strode for the door, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a backward glance.
Draco’s hand rose slowly to his cheek, fingers brushing the sting.
you need a lot of strength and inner peace to avoid being ragebaited by the canon creators of your favorite tv show and their terrible writing decisions that ruin your favorite characters.
you also need to be grateful for fanfiction and fanfic writers for saving these characters from their own show by the way.
older women allowed to have a story outside of the fairy godmother trope or being a mere caretaking accessory to another character
girlfail characters
women who stand on business and dump the pathetic loser bf
non-traditionally feminine women who bond with traditionally feminine women instead of putting them down (and the other way around)
women who take charge of their destiny
women whose happy end doesnt involve romance and whose romantic life is not centered much
strong but warm and empathetic women
queer women with a story beyond exploring their queerness
soft black women
female mentors who dont fall into the caretaker role but also aren’t unnecessarily cruel
grumpy, taciturn women
fun, flirty, seductive women whose personality is not treated as a promiscuous flaw to be fixed
weird and off putting women
tall, feminine women who are not othered or treated as less feminine for their height
short, serious women who are not infantilised and taken seriously
women in stem
female antagonists whose antagonistic behavior is not sexualised or motivated by being wronged first. just an evil, brutal person
women of color who are neither the ‘subservient damsel in distress who needs to be freed by the white man’ nor the ‘oriental, tempting beauty who seduces the white man with a dagger, a smirk, and a cocky one liner’
[Prompt Calender: March 8th, International Women's Day]
Summary: Theodore Nott would NEVER forget to ask you to be his Valentine (he definitely would). Or the time you were officially the last one to know that you were dating Theodore Nott.
The month of February had always struck you as something like winter’s purgatory. By this time each year, all the glitz and glamor of the Christmas season and New Years had faded away, but it was still far too early for the giddy anticipation of summer holiday to properly set in. Still bitterly cold—hard, packed snow and ice replaced the once glittering, fluffy white drifts that made you feel as though you were in a winter wonderland rather than the barren tundra. Most students were just trying to make it through.
At least that’s how it felt as you were being tugged across the grey streets of Hogsmeade, you and your friends pulling your coats close, rushing through the doors of Honeydukes to escape the cold.
“Salazar’s frozen ball sack, if it gets any colder we’ll all be frozen solid before we even get the chance to cast a warming spell,” Mattheo mutters, shaking snow from his dark curls.
“You were the one who decided a couple chocolate cauldrons were worth braving this frozen hellscape,” Pansy retorts with a scowl, though her words lack any real bite.
You’re too cold to even think of a jab to send Mattheo’s way, instead you stand shivering to the side, trying to rub some warmth back into your fingertips.
“Warming charms do exist you know,” a deep voice chuckles beside you as a wand is pressed gently against you.
Instantly you feel a wave of heat ripples over you and your cheeks tinge pink. From the heat. Obviously.
“Come on, if we don’t escape now, we could be standing here for hours listening to those two going at it,” Theo adds, smirking as he takes you by the elbow and leads you through the maze of red hearts and pink glitter that now decorated every possible surface in Honeydukes.
Of course there was one holiday placed smack dab in the middle of the rather monotonous month of February. Wrapped in a permanently pinkish haze and oozing out candy coated hearts, Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was a minefield for rampant teenage hormones and questionably obtained love potions. Overall it was not exactly your idea of a good time. Usually.
Walking through Honeydukes arm in arm with Theodore as he pulled you close and leaned in closer to talk over all the bustling noise however, well, you were beginning to see the appeal. You and Theodore had been friends since first year which basically felt like forever and you would easily consider him one of your closest friends at Hogwarts. Lately though, you’d felt a slight shift between the two of you. Not in any bad way. But in the sense that you suddenly found yourself caring about how you looked when Theo was around, or how your ears perked up more than usual whenever you heard his name.
“Look, if they’re all out of your cauldron cakes, I’m sure I can have one of the elves mail some in the post,” Theo is saying as the two of you browse the seemingly endless shelves.
Your eyes rake over the various colored candy displays, each advertising a different tooth-rotting treat before you finally spot your prize.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about bothering your elves Theo. It looks like they just repackaged the normal cauldron cakes and made them heart shaped,” you say, reaching out to grab a few boxes off the shelf. You might as well stock up while you’re there.
The shimmering pink boxes barely make it to your arms however before Theo snatches them from your hands, silently insisting he carry them before adding several more boxes to your stack for himself. You hear him mutter something about how ‘no self respecting bloke lets their partner carry boxes around a shop’, but you brush it off without a second thought. Sometimes Theo got caught up in the old traditions his father had drilled into him so you try not to read so much into things.
“Oh look, they’re having a special on chocolates. Do you think we should get some for the others? And speaking of, how long do you think we can avoid them before they notice we’re gone?” You ask as Theo follows you dutifully through the aisles.
“Not sure. But I am glad I get to spend the afternoon with you. You’re the least exhausting out of everyone after all,” Theo teases, grasping your hand in his.
You roll your eyes at the boy’s flirtatious grin.
“Gee thanks, you really know how to lay the charm on thick,” you respond dryly.
“Don’t have to be charming, it’s just you.”
Despite his good natured smile, you can’t help the small clenching you feel in your chest at his words. Just you. When you reach the counter, you don’t bother fighting it when Theo places a small stack of galleons next to the till, too caught up in your thoughts.
“Come on, if we slip out now I bet we can make it to The Three Broomsticks without any of the others noticing,” Theo says, slipping his hand easily into yours once more and pulling you out of the crowded shop as if his words hadn’t just left your mind spinning down an endless rabbit hole.
You don’t know what to make of the truly massive bouquet of peonies that was currently overtaking the small desk that was shoved into the corner of your dormitory. Sweet, sweet Theodore had stopped by after classes were over for the day to hand deliver them to you. Something about how his mum would have had his head if she were alive and knew Theodore wasn’t spoiling you rotten. Whatever that meant.
On one hand, a lot of thought and effort had clearly gone into choosing the expensive blossoms. They’d always been your favorite and he knew that. And they were almost never in season—they certainly weren’t in season in the middle of February—so he’d clearly had them imported which was no small feat. On the other hand, he’d cited his deceased mother as the reason for the unexpected flowers and that didn’t exactly scream romantic gesture.
Trying to read Theodore was about as straightforward as reading a simple instruction manual except the instructions were upside down, a large chunk was randomly missing, and half the words were written in Italian. You did not speak Italian. And to make matters worse, the very subject of all your confusion was sat in front of you innocently thumbing through his potions homework as if his very existence wasn't sending you in a downwards spiral making you question your entire friendship.
Of course you knew your best friend was attractive. You'd always known that. And if you somehow hadn't noticed how prolifically handsome he was in the past six years, then the miles-long list of classmates who had asked you to put in a good word for them, probably would have keyed you in. Those kinds of requests always came around this time of year and heck, every year you obliged them, but now that you were really thinking about it, you couldn't remember a single time Theo had ever acted upon any of your classmates' advances. And furthermore, you hadn't had anyone approach you yet this year asking you to casually bring them up in conversation or help them slip Theo a love potion. You always turned those classmates away anyway though. Usually with a good hex to go along with them.
Yet here you were, walking through Hogsmeade and receiving flowers from Hogwarts' apparent 'most eligible bachelor' and if anyone asked you where the two of you stood, you'd have no clue how to respond.
"Did you finish your essay already, amore?" Theo asks as he continues to scratch away at the parchment in front of him, his eyes never leaving the page in front of him.
Which is lucky for you as you realize you've been staring at your best friend this entire time.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes!" You squeak out, embarrassed to have been so caught up in your thoughts.
Theo doesn't seem to notice your moment of panic though as he closes his book with a snap before gazing over at you with that lazy grin you knew far too well.
"Good. Then we're right on time to meet the others for dinner," he says, checking the time as his texts magically slot themselves back into his book bag.
Extending his hand, Theo pulls you to your feet, intertwining his fingers with yours and shrugging his bag onto his shoulder before leading you down to the Great Hall. On your way there, Theo talks as if nothing is out of the ordinary, commenting on your upcoming charms exam, the likelihood of Slytherin winning another quidditch cup, what time the two of you should meet for your daily study session tomorrow. The same painfully normal things the two of you always talked about. And why should you be surprised? It was just another normal day after all.
Except Valentine's Day was only a few days away and Theo had just shown up at your door with flowers and little to no explanation of where you stood with each other.
Unfortunately for you, you don't get any more time to stress yourself out as you walk into the Great Hall and over to the rather crowded Slytherin table where your friends were already waiting. The benches already seem to be filled far past their intended capacity, but without blinking an eye, Theo just tugs you down with him placing you squarely on his lap. His arms reach around you as he makes himself a plate and you sit frozen in place, feeling as though your brain was short circuiting.
Either Theo was downright daft or you had somehow managed to miss a chapter in the story or your and Theo's relationship.
"You going to eat mi amore?" Theo asks casually—too casually, as he shovels food into his mouth.
"You have to try the meat pies. They're to die for this year," Pansy says, passing you a plate of the savory pastries.
You can't do anything but blink, feeling like you'd entered a completely separate universe. What was going on? Why did absolutely nothing about today feel normal, yet still completely and utterly—ordinary.
The rest of dinner you try your best to act as if eating dinner while sat on Theo's lap was the most natural thing in the world, but you also can't help but notice that to everyone else, it does seem perfectly natural. Mattheo and Lorenzo are still their most obnoxious selves, Draco is still monologuing to the air in front of him as if people are actually listening, Pansy hasn't looked at you twice as she fills you in on the day's gossip, and Theo—Theo is rubbing circles on your thigh as he talks to Blaise across the table.
As soon as you're finished eating, you practically throw yourself off Theo's lap which earns you a worried look from the boy.
"Are you alright, y/n? You've seemed stressed all day," he says, eyebrows furrowing.
His voice is laced with so much concern you feel your stomach twist with guilt.
"No, I'm fine. Just super tired. And my head has been hurting," you reply quickly, satisfied with your response as it technically wasn't a lie.
Theo rises from his seat now too.
“I’ll walk you back to your dorm then,” he says, taking your hand in his once more.
You want to protest, but the look on his face tells you it won’t do much good as his mind is already made up. After saying goodbye to your friends, the two of you head back the same way you came.
“Are you sure you’re alright, mi amore?” Theo asks once more as soon as the two of you turn into a deserted hall. “You seem distant lately.”
“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind,” you sigh, wanting nothing more than to be back in your room with your thoughts to yourself.
But Theo keeps pushing. “Like what?”
“Penelope Clearwater wants to know what your plans are for the fourteenth of February,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
It was a lie. Penelope Clearwater had asked nothing of the sort. This year.
But Theo just blinks once before looking at you like you’d grown an extra head.
“Not spending it with her, that’s for sure,” he replies matter of factly. “I don’t know why you do this to yourself. Every year you let people treat you like a carrier pigeon, even though you and I both know I’m not going to give any of them a second glance. You need to stop working yourself up mi amore.”
The two of you walk the rest of the way in silence, though Theo squeezes onto your hand every so often as if to remind you that he’s there.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when you finally reach your door.
You just nod as he pulls you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin as he holds you. As strange as your day had been, you can't help but melt into him, feeling at home in his arms. You almost want to tell him not to leave. But you don’t. You really needed to figure out where the two of you were at. And if he wasn’t going to tell you, you were going to have to work up the courage to ask.
"Well hello to you too," Pansy says with a huff as you plop down beside her on the sofa, causing several of the photo cards she had spread out to flutter to the floor.
"Whatcha doin?" you ask, intrigued by the little squares that Pansy seemed to have organized meticulously.
"Miss Parkinson is deciding which poor bloke will be her Valentine tomorrow," Lorenzo drawls from the other side of the table.
Pansy glares at the brunette sat across from her before snatching one of the cards and tearing it to shreds.
"Oh no. Don't do that," Enz monotones without an ounce remorse in his voice, his name fluttering to the ground.
"Ignore him," Pansy sniffs. “Look. I have a whole system see? Names, houses, amount of generational wealth, everything important is on these little cards here. Then I sort out the Gryffindors and anyone with a date already and keep filtering them all from there.”
You look at the piles of cards scattered across the table and can’t help but be a bit impressed.
“Can I see who you’ve got left?” You ask, genuinely curious to see who Pansy had whittled her choices down to.
Lorenzo scoffs.
“Why would you want to see what Pansy has cooked up? It’s pure madness I’ll tell you. And it’s not as if you need any of those silly cards yourself.”
Now it’s your turn to glare at the boy. Pansy had clearly been right to shred his card to pieces.
“Well why not?” You retort, sticking your chin out at him stubbornly.
Now though, even Pansy is looking at you confused.
“I mean, probably because you’ve got Nott wrapped around your finger. Any bloke would have to be downright stupid to encroach on his territory. Specially on Valentine’s Day and all that,” Enzo replies, looking rather bored.
“Wha- I’m not his territory!” You scoff belligerently, frown deepening as Enz picks at the sofa cushion.
“I’m quite certain Theodore would disagree.”
“It doesn’t matter if he agrees. He’s not my boyfriend!”
Pansy arches an eyebrow.
“Are you sure?” She asks.
“Am I sur- What do you mean am I sure? What kind of question is that? Of course I’m sure! I think I would remember if Theo had ever asked me out, he’s my best friend for Salazar’s sake.”
You watch as Pansy and Lorenzo make knowing eye contact before they both turn back to you.
"Awfully defensive for someone who's so sure-" Lorenzo remarks before Pansy cuts him off.
“You should talk to Theodore,” She states simply before turning back to her cards.
You want to argue more, but Enz turns away as well. Bugger. You let out a loud sigh to make your frustration with the two of them known before standing up and leaving them behind. You knew they were going to tell you to just go talk to Theo, but you had been sort of avoiding him the past few days for exactly this reason.
Maybe avoid was too strong a word. You weren't straight up avoiding the boy, but you definitely weren't as inseparable as you usually were. And if you'd pretended not to see or hear him a few times as he approached, instead opting to dart off down a different corridor, well, no one could prove it.
You just felt so annoyed. Everyone seemed to know more about your relationship with Theo than you did, and while the reasonable, mature part of you knew that you should just talk to him, your more stubborn side wanted to make Theo solve this mess on his own.
As you make your way down a seemingly empty corridor, just thinking about the boy seems to have magically conjured him out of thin air as he appears at the end of the hallway looking lost in thought. As soon as he spots you though, you see him visibly relax. Not having anywhere to run this time, you resign yourself to having this conversation much sooner than you would have preferred.
“There you are, mia bella. Where have you been all night?” He asks, striding towards you and making to pull you into a hug.
You take a step back, feeling rage bubble inside you. All your pent up agitation boiling just under the surface. When you don’t respond, Theo frowns and his eyes turn pleading.
“What’s wrong amore, are you mad at me?”
You can’t hold it in anymore. The tip toeing around one another, the side stepping around the real conversation that needed to be had, it was just too much.
“No! I just—Stop looking at me like that! And stop buying me chocolates and flowers. Stop calling me love, stop calling me beautiful, stop trying to constantly hold my hand. Just stop.” You blurt, words flowing out of your mouth with malice.
You expect Theo to be mad, or maybe hurt, but he just freezes—blinking at you for a moment.
“Why?”
You can’t help but scoff. He asks why?
“Because you’re not my boyfriend. And I don’t need you constantly reminding me of that by doing all the things a boyfriend would do.”
“I could be. Your boyfriend.”
You might hate him. He was your best friend and you loved him, but you might actually hate him. How was he so casual about this? How could he act like this whole conversation didn’t have the potential to ruin your entire friendship.
“No Theodore. You couldn’t be. Because that would require an actual conversation, which is something you seem to have forgotten.”
Theo tilts his head, considering.
“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”
Your heart can’t help but flutter at Theo’s words, at the idea, but at the same time he was just so damn frustrating.
“Will you stop over-simplifying everything?” You ask, exasperation clear in your voice.
“Will you stop over-complicating everything?” He teases back, having the nerve to look rather pleased with himself.
You hadn’t noticed until now, but he had also gotten significantly closer as the two of you argued, now only inches away as he smiled that stupid, charming grin down at you. The one he used whenever he was in trouble, but knew he would get away with it.
"It's not over complicated to want a little bit of clarity on whatever our relationship is," you grumble, realizing your back was against the wall.
"Well then let me be perfectly clear. I would like to be your boyfriend, and I would also very much like to kiss you now. Any opposition?"
Theo's words send a shiver down your spine. You weren't actually expecting such straightforwardness from him. And you certainly weren't expecting him to be looking down at you like he was ready to devour you. When sound fails to leave your lips, you watch as Theo leans forward ever so slowly as if daring you to pull back. He gets closer and closer until your noses are brushing and then—you had to be dreaming. Your eyes flutter shut and his lips on yours are soft and warm and you feel like you might be melting. It doesn't quite seem real when his hands grab hold of your waist, pulling you into him.
You're not sure how long the two of you would have stayed there, pressed against one another, but a loud, awkward cough pulls you back to reality. Glancing behind you, you see a very red and very scandalized portrait glaring daggers at you.
"Oh. Sorry," you mutter, turning a bit red yourself.
Theo does not look sorry. In fact he looks rather smug as he continues to hold you in his arms.
“Now that this is all sorted, am I allowed to take you out for Valentine’s or do I need your permission for that too?” He asks smugly, ignoring the indignant portrait all together.
You roll your eyes, giving him a light shove off of you, but he’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulder instead as the two of you make your way back to your common room.
“I’ll see if I can make time for you in my very busy schedule on the condition that you explain to me how I came to be the last person to know that we were apparently in a relationship,” you reply.
Theo now at least has the decency to look a bit embarrassed.
“It may have been a slight oversight on my part,” he mumbles, tugging you closer as you walk.
“A slight oversight?”
“We’ve basically been dating for the past two years amore.”
“That’s simply not true.”
Theo looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Who have you spent Valentine’s Day with the past two years again?”
Loid Forger is up to his eyeballs in PTSD and masking the hell out of it, gets stress ulcers, and is playing 5 dimensional chess with every interaction, figuring out and counteracting both people's individual and collective motivations and weaknesses. But he's also like "ough how do i maintain a healthy and respectful fake relationship with my beautiful stacked superhuman goddess wife who misses 40% of all social cues and wears backless sweater dresses all the time. This is really tough." The character of all time.
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