The Maid of Honor
Part four: The Dress.
The one where there are four and a half weeks to the Wedding and Theo is on the hunt for Y/N's dream dress. Or the one were Pansy Parkinson's sixth sense never fails.
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Reader, Charlie Weasley x reader.
Warnings: Slight Angst.
A/N: English is not my first language so I'm really sorry if there is any mistake. I love Pansy, I love Theo and I love Y/N. Theo I'm cheering for you!!
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Y/N's owl arrived at half past seven in the morning, its sharp tapping against Theo's bedroom window dragging him from the first decent sleep he'd managed in days. He'd spent most of his nights staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of his meeting with Charlie Weasley and trying to figure out how he was going to survive the next four and a half weeks without completely losing his mind.
The letter was from Y/N, written in her familiar neat script across expensive parchment that still smelled faintly of her perfume.
Theo Emergency dress shopping expedition today! Meet me at Madam Malkin's at ten. I need moral support and your honest opinion. Also, Pansy will be there, so prepare yourself for a long day. Love you! - Y/N P.S. - Charlie loved you, by the way. He said you're exactly what he expected my best friend to be like. Whatever that means.
Theo stared at the postscript for a long moment, trying to decode what Charlie had meant. Exactly what he'd expected? Safe? Unthreatening? The kind of man who could be trusted not to steal his fiancée?
If only Charlie knew.
Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was bustling with activity when Theo arrived, slightly out of breath from having to dodge through the crowded Diagon Alley streets. Through the shop's front window, he could see Y/N standing on a raised platform in the center of the fitting area, wearing what appeared to be a mountain of white silk and lace. Pansy was circling her like a predator, her dark eyes critical as she examined every seam and fold.
"You're late," Pansy announced as Theo entered, not bothering to look away from her inspection of Y/N's hem. "And you look terrible. Rough night?"
"Something like that," Theo muttered, settling into one of the chairs arranged around the fitting area. "How long have you been here?"
"Two hours," Y/N said, her voice slightly muffled by the seamstress who was pinning something near her shoulder. "We've tried on seventeen dresses so far, and Pansy has rejected all of them."
"They were all wrong," Pansy said firmly. "Too simple, too gaudy, too... pedestrian. Y/N Black is not getting married in some off-the-rack disaster that makes her look like every other witch who's ever walked down an aisle."
Theo looked at Y/N properly for the first time since entering the shop, and his breath caught in his throat. Even in a dress that was clearly not right for her – too much lace, too many ruffles, cut for someone with a completely different figure – she was breathtaking. Her dark hair was pinned up loosely, with a few strands escaping to frame her face, and her skin had that luminous quality it always got when she was excited about something.
She looked like a bride. She looked like someone else's bride.
"What do you think, Theo?" Y/N asked, turning carefully on the platform to face him. "Honest opinion."
Theo forced himself to actually look at the dress rather than the woman wearing it. It was expensive, clearly well-made, but it wasn't... her. The style was too fussy, too ornate for someone with Y/N's natural elegance. She looked like she was wearing a costume rather than a wedding dress.
"It's beautiful," he said carefully, "but it's not you."
"Thank you!" Pansy exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. "That's exactly what I've been trying to tell her. Y/N, darling, you're not a ruffles and bows sort of person. You need something sleek, sophisticated, something that complements your natural grace rather than competing with it."
Y/N's reflection caught Theo's eye in one of the full-length mirrors, and he saw something flicker across her face – disappointment, maybe, or resignation.
"Actually," Y/N said slowly, "I was thinking maybe something simpler might be better anyway. For a garden wedding, I mean. All this..." she gestured vaguely at the elaborate dress, "might be too much for the Burrow."
There it was again – that careful adjustment of her expectations, the way she was slowly editing herself to fit into Charlie's vision of what their wedding should be.
"The venue should accommodate the bride, not the other way around," Pansy said sharply, clearly thinking the same thing Theo was. "If you want elegance, darling, you should have elegance. Period."
"But Charlie said—"
"I don't care what Charlie said," Pansy interrupted, her voice unusually fierce. "This is your wedding dress, Y/N. The dress you'll wear when you promise yourself to someone for the rest of your life. It should be everything you've ever dreamed of, not some compromise to make other people comfortable."
Theo watched Y/N's face in the mirror, seeing the internal struggle playing out in her expression. She wanted the fairy tale wedding she'd dreamed about since childhood, but she also wanted to be the perfect bride for Charlie – uncomplicated, down-to-earth, grateful for whatever he offered.
"Maybe we should look at something less... formal," Y/N said finally, her voice small. "Something more appropriate."
"No." The word came out sharper than Theo had intended, and both women turned to look at him in surprise. He stood up from his chair, crossing to the platform where Y/N stood. "No, Y/N. Don't do this."
"Do what?" she asked, but her eyes were already defensive.
"Edit yourself to fit into someone else's idea of who you should be." Theo's voice was gentle but firm. "I've watched you do it before, and I won't watch you do it again. Not for something this important."
"I'm not editing myself," Y/N protested. "I'm being practical. The Burrow is a beautiful venue, and I want to choose something that fits—"
"The Burrow will be beautiful because you'll be there," Theo interrupted. "But that doesn't mean you have to diminish yourself to match the surroundings. Y/N, I've listened to you talk about your dream wedding since we were thirteen years old. I know what you want."
Φ
Five Years earlier - New York City
"It was perfect," Y/N had said, sprawled across Theo's bed looking at her parents' wedding pictures. "Look at this one – my mom looked like a princess."
Theo glanced over from the book he was reading to see her pointing at a photograph of a witch in an elaborate gown that seemed to float around her like liquid moonlight. The dress was simple in its basic design but exquisite in its execution – silk that caught the light like water, delicate beadwork that looked like stars scattered across fabric, a train that flowed behind the bride like magic made manifest.
"It's nice," Theo said, though 'nice' seemed inadequate for something so beautiful.
"Nice?" Y/N sat up, clutching the picture to her chest. "Theo, it's gorgeous. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Look at the way it moves when she walks, like she's floating. And the beadwork – it must have taken months to do by hand."
"You sound like you're already planning your wedding," Theo teased.
"Maybe I am," Y/N said, her cheeks turning pink. "Is that silly? Planning something that might never happen?"
"It's not silly," Theo said quietly. "And it will happen. Someday, you'll have exactly the wedding you want."
Y/N smiled at him, bright and trusting. "I know you don't believe in marriage but…"
At that Theo could only think of how wrong she was. He had been picturing his marriage ever since he was thirteen years old and Y/N started to become obsessed with weddings. It was always the same dream. Him at the altar and Y/N as his bride.
Φ
"You showed me that dress your mother wore at her wedding while we were unpacking when we first arrived in New York," Theo said now, his voice soft with memory. "The one with the silk that looked like moonlight and the beadwork like stars. You said it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen."
Y/N's eyes widened, clearly surprised that he remembered such a specific detail from so long ago.
"You said you wanted to feel like a princess on your wedding day," Theo continued. "You wanted something elegant and sophisticated and magical. Don't give that up because someone else thinks it's too much."
"But Theo—"
"No buts." He reached up to take her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "Y/N, Charlie loves you. If he really loves you, he'll want you to have the wedding of your dreams, even if it's not what he originally envisioned. And if he doesn't..." Theo trailed off, not trusting himself to finish that sentence.
Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her dark eyes searching his face. "You really think I should have the dress I want? Even if it doesn't fit with the whole 'rustic garden party' theme?"
"I think you should have everything you want," Theo said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. "Starting with the dress."
Pansy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, cleared her throat. "Well," she said, her voice suspiciously thick, "now that we've established that Y/N is going to have the wedding dress she deserves, perhaps we should actually find it."
She turned to Madam Malkin, who had been watching the scene with interest. "Do you have anything in the style of that Celestina Warbeck wedding spread from five years ago? The one with the silk charmeuse and the hand-beaded bodice?"
Madam Malkin's eyes lit up. "As a matter of fact, I do have something. It's in the back – a custom piece that was never collected. The bride called off the wedding at the last minute, poor dear. But it might be perfect..."
She bustled away, leaving Theo and Y/N alone on the platform while Pansy examined a display of veils nearby.
"Theo," Y/N said softly, "why do you remember that dress? it was a long time ago"
Because I remember everything about you, Theo thought. Because I've been cataloging every dream you've ever shared with me, every wish you've ever made, every detail that makes you happy. Because I love you so much it physically hurts sometimes.
"Because it was important to you," he said instead. "I pay attention when something matters to you."
Y/N's expression grew soft, almost wondering. "You do, don't you? Even when I don't realize it myself. Like yesterday, when Charlie suggested the Burrow – you could tell I wasn't really happy about it, couldn't you?"
"You get this look," Theo said carefully, "when you're trying to convince yourself you're okay with something that you're not actually okay with. Your smile gets a little too bright, and your voice gets a little too cheerful. You did it after Cedric died, when you were trying to pretend you were healing faster than you actually were."
"And I'm doing it now," Y/N said, not really a question.
"A little bit," Theo admitted. "Y/N, there's nothing wrong with wanting your wedding to be beautiful. There's nothing wrong with wanting things to be special and elegant and perfect. That doesn't make you shallow or superficial – it makes you someone who believes that important moments deserve to be celebrated properly."
Before Y/N could respond, Madam Malkin returned carrying a dress bag that seemed to shimmer with its own light. She hung it carefully on a hook and unzipped it with reverent hands.
The dress that emerged was everything Y/N had ever dreamed of and more. It was made of silk so fine it seemed to be woven from moonbeams, with an embroidered bodice that would showcase her figure perfectly and a skirt that flowed like water. The neckline was elegant but not revealing, the bodice was long and fitted with tiny pearl buttons framing her figure, and scattered across the entire dress were thousands of tiny crystals that caught the light like stars.
It was sophisticated and timeless and absolutely, perfectly magical.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, it's..."
"Perfect," Pansy finished, her voice awed. "Y/N, it's absolutely perfect."
"Would you like to try it on?" Madam Malkin asked gently.
Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice. Theo stepped down from the platform to give her privacy while Madam Malkin and her assistants helped her into the dress, though he could hear Y/N's soft gasps of delight from behind the curtain.
"She's going to look incredible," Pansy said quietly, settling into the chair beside him. "That dress was made for her."
"It was," Theo agreed, his chest tight with anticipation and dread. Y/N in her perfect dress, walking down the aisle toward someone else.
"You know," Pansy continued, her voice carefully casual, "there's still time."
Theo turned to look at her. "Time for what?"
"To tell her how you feel."
The words hung in the air between them like a curse. Theo felt all the blood drain from his face.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said automatically.
Pansy gave him a look that could have melted steel. "Theodore Nott, I have known you since we were five years old. Do you honestly think I haven't noticed the way you look at her? The way you've always looked at her?"
"Pansy—"
"The way you remember every little detail about her dreams, the way you drop everything when she needs you, the way you're breaking your heart trying to make sure she gets the perfect wedding to someone else?" Pansy's voice was gentle but relentless. "Theo, darling, you're not as subtle as you think you are."
Theo stared at his hands, unable to meet her eyes. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She's happy. She's in love with Charlie, and she's happy. That's what matters."
"Is she, though?" Pansy asked. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like she's trying very hard to convince herself she's happy. There's a difference."
Before Theo could respond, the curtain around the fitting area was pulled back, and Y/N stepped out in the dress.
Every coherent thought in Theo's head evaporated.
She was radiant. The dress fit her like it had been made specifically for her body, the silk flowing over her curves like liquid light. The crystals scattered across the fabric caught the shop's lighting and threw tiny rainbows across the walls. Her dark hair contrasted beautifully with the pale silk, and her skin seemed to glow.
She looked like a fairy tale princess. She looked like everything she'd ever dreamed of being.
She looked like the most beautiful thing Theo had ever seen in his life.
"Well?" Y/N asked, her voice nervous as she turned slowly in front of the mirror. "What do you think?"
Theo opened his mouth to speak and found that no words would come. He was drowning in the sight of her, in the way the dress made her look ethereal and perfect and so achingly beautiful that it physically hurt to look at her.
"You look..." he started, then had to clear his throat and try again. "Y/N, you look absolutely stunning."
The smile that spread across her face was like sunrise after the longest night. "Really?"
"Really," Theo managed, though his voice came out rougher than he'd intended. "Charlie's going to forget how to breathe when he sees you in that dress."
Y/N's smile faltered slightly at the mention of her fiancé, and Theo caught the flicker of something – uncertainty? doubt? – that crossed her face before she smiled again.
"I hope so," she said, but there was something hollow in her voice.
Pansy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, stepped forward to examine the dress more closely. "It's perfect," she declared. "Absolutely perfect. Y/N, this is the dress. This is the one."
"But is it too much?" Y/N asked, her old uncertainty creeping back in. "For a garden wedding, I mean. Maybe I should find something more... appropriate."
"Y/N," Theo said firmly, standing up so he was closer to her. "Look at yourself. Really look."
She turned to face the full-length mirror, and Theo moved to stand behind her, his hands coming to rest lightly on her shoulders.
"What do you see?" he asked softly.
Y/N stared at her reflection for a long moment. "I see... me," she said quietly. "But the best version of me. Like I'm everything I always wanted to be."
"Exactly," Theo said, his thumbs brushing along her shoulder blades through the silk. "You see yourself as you're meant to be. Don't let anyone take that away from you."
In the mirror, Y/N's eyes met his, and for a moment, Theo forgot how to breathe. There was something in her gaze – gratitude, affection, and something else, something deeper that he didn't dare name.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For remembering. For caring. For always knowing exactly what I need to hear."
"Always," Theo replied, meaning it with every fiber of his being.
The moment stretched between them, fragile and perfect and completely impossible. Then Y/N's attention was caught by something in the mirror, and the spell broke.
"Oh no," she said, her face going pale. "What time is it?"
Theo checked his watch. "Nearly two o'clock. Why?"
"I'm supposed to meet Charlie and his mother at three to discuss catering," Y/N said, already moving toward the changing area. "I lost track of time completely."
As Y/N disappeared behind the curtain to change, Pansy moved to stand beside Theo.
"Four and a half weeks," she said quietly.
"What?"
"You have four and a half weeks to figure out what you're going to do," Pansy said, her voice gentle but firm. "Because watching you two just now... Theo, that wasn't the look of a woman who's completely sure about her choice."
"You're imagining things," Theo said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Am I?" Pansy asked. "Then tell me, when Y/N was looking at herself in that dress, what did you see in her face?"
Theo was quiet for a long moment, remembering the way Y/N had looked at her reflection – the wonder, the happiness, the way she'd seemed to glow from within.
"She looked like herself," he said finally. "Like the person she's always been inside."
"And when you mentioned Charlie's reaction to the dress?"
Theo closed his eyes, remembering the way Y/N's smile had faltered, the uncertainty that had flickered across her face.
"She looked... scared," he admitted. "Like she wasn't sure he'd understand."
"Exactly," Pansy said softly. "Y/N is trying very hard to be the woman Charlie wants her to be. But what if that woman isn't who she really is? What if she's giving up pieces of herself to fit into his vision of their life together?"
"It doesn't matter," Theo said desperately. "She made her choice. She's engaged to him, she's planning a wedding with him, she's moving to Romania with him. Even if she's having doubts—"
"Doubts that you could help her work through," Pansy interrupted. "Theo, you know her better than anyone. You've loved her longer than anyone. If there's even a chance that she's making a mistake—"
"I won't do that to her," Theo said firmly. "I won't sabotage her happiness because of my own feelings. If she wants Charlie, if she thinks he'll make her happy, then I'll help her have the best wedding possible and I'll smile while I do it."
Pansy studied his face for a long moment. "You're an idiot," she said finally, but her voice was fond.
"Probably," Theo agreed.
Y/N emerged from the changing area in her regular robes, the wedding dress carefully draped over her arm. Her hair was slightly mussed from changing, and her cheeks were still pink with excitement.
"Madam Malkin," she called, "I'll take it. The dress, I mean. How much do I owe you?"
As Y/N handled the business side of the purchase, Theo found himself staring at the dress bag, thinking about how she'd looked in it. Like a princess from a fairy tale. Like everything she'd ever dreamed of being.
Like the most beautiful bride who would ever walk down an aisle toward someone who wasn't him.
"All finished," Y/N announced, looking slightly breathless. "The dress will be ready for a final fitting next week, and then..." She trailed off, her expression growing uncertain again.
"And then you'll have the perfect dress for your perfect wedding," Theo said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice.
"Right," Y/N said, but she didn't sound entirely convinced. "Perfect."
They walked out of Madam Malkin's together, Y/N chattering nervously about her upcoming meeting with Mrs. Weasley and all the decisions that still needed to be made. Theo listened with half an ear, most of his attention focused on the way the afternoon sunlight caught in her hair, the way she gestured when she was excited, the way she unconsciously moved closer to him when the street got crowded.
Four and a half weeks. Four and a half weeks until she walked down the aisle in that incredible dress, toward a man who wanted her to be someone other than who she really was.
Four and a half weeks to let her go.
Or, as Pansy had suggested, four and a half weeks to figure out if he should fight for her instead.
Theo pushed that thought away as soon as it formed. Y/N had made her choice. She loved Charlie, was planning a life with him, was excited about their future together. Her momentary doubts about the dress and the venue were just normal pre-wedding nerves, nothing more.
But as they reached the Apparition point and Y/N hugged him goodbye, Theo couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted today. The way she'd looked at herself in that dress, the way she'd looked at him in the mirror, the way she'd seemed to glow when he'd told her she deserved everything she wanted...
"Theo," Y/N said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "Thank you. For today, for the dress, for... for always believing I deserve good things."
"You deserve everything," Theo said, meaning it completely. "Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”
Y/N smiled at him, soft and grateful and heartbreakingly beautiful. "I love you, Theo. You know that, right?"
"I know," Theo said, the words like knives in his chest. "I love you too."
She Disapparated with a soft pop, leaving Theo alone on the busy street with the memory of her in that dress burned into his mind forever.
Four and a half weeks.
He wasn't sure he was going to survive it.