like the movies
chapter nine - the black lake
series masterlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 2363
author’s note: thank you so so so x10389885 for all the love i've been getting as of late!!! i see all your notes, reblogs, and comments and they mean the absolute world to me. wishing you all the best for the coming new year and i hope you all have/had happy holidays!!! <3
that being said...please forgive me for this chapter LMAO
also - if i missed you on the taglist, please let me know!!!
song inspiration: "baby i'm a fool" by melody gardot
“How bad could it be, hm?”
Meeting Parvati’s eyes in your dorm mirror, you considered her seemingly innocent question.
What was the harm, truly?
“Well, he could be horribly ugly.” A puff of hot air escaped your lips at Ginny’s rebuttal. You caught the glare Parvati shot the redhead who could only sheepishly grin.
“Are you trying to suggest she shouldn’t go?”
“Not at all!” Ginny replied. Pausing, she turned to look at you. “Just trying to temper expectations. Don’t want you to be disappointed, ‘s all.” Her change in tone only worsened the sinking feeling that was quickly settling into your gut. Seeming to sense the catastrophizing her sentence had set off in your mind, she piped up. “Hey! If he’s not cute, maybe he’ll be this great guy! Godric knows the lookers can be the absolute worst.” The bitter smile on her face let you know she was thinking of her ill-fated romance with Dean Thomas.
“So, I’m either saddled with some class-act minger or an attractive asshat. Wonderful. Loving these options.”
“I have a feeling my comments have not been entirely helpful this afternoon,” Ginny mused.
“You think?” Parvati rolled her eyes. “What I’m hoping Ginny is trying to say is that you don’t know who’s going to be waiting for you at the Black Lake, so don’t go into it expecting anything, right?”
“Right-o, Patil.”
“Anyhow, it’s not like you’ve been cracking on with anyone recently, right? So, who knows what will happen.”
Your mind seemed to stall over the feelings you hadn’t voiced to anyone. Though Hermione’s eyes had hinted at your affection for a certain Slytherin that first snow of the season, you had yet to be fully candid with your friends.
You fronted a smile. “Right again, Parvati.”
“So…” she drawled, getting up from your bed and standing behind where you sat at your desk. “It’ll be grand, Y/n.” Parvati patted you on the shoulder. “Just grand.”
“Besides, if he tries anything naughty, I’ll jinx him in the—”
“Ginny!”
Having clasped your secret admirer’s latest gift around your neck, you made your descent from Gryffindor Tower. Your friends had kindly let you get ready in peace; their endless chatter had only served to put your nerves on edge. The sun had just begun to set over the surrounding mountains of Hogwarts, casting the grounds in rich blues and oranges from the dying light. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an ill-favored attempt to stay warm, you made your way to the Black Lake, hoping that whoever he was, you wouldn’t have to wait in the winter chill.
As fate would have it, you didn’t have to wait long.
“Y/n!”
Turning around to see who the voice belonged to, you were met with the sight of Zacharias Smith jogging toward you.
A seventh year like yourself, Zacharias Smith was a Hufflepuff you had shared a few classes with over the years. However, the frequency of your shared schedule had petered off as Smith decided to not pursue certain advanced coursework. You’d chat on the occasional run-in, but he was more of an acquaintance than a friend.
One of your last classes with him was History of Magic in fourth year, where you had been seat partners. Smith wasn’t a bad student per se, but he made it perfectly clear studying the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century was not at the top of his priority list. At the end of the year, Professor Binns had assigned each pair of students a section of the International Statute of Secrecy to study and present to the class. You could count on one finger the times Zacharias had helped you with the project, constantly skipping out on study sessions for time on the quidditch pitch. As a chaser for Hufflepuff, Zacharias was perfectly adequate. As a student, he was less so, and you found yourself slaving away for hours to make up for his lack of effort and frankly, blatant disregard for your time. You fourth year-self had most definitely shared an unkind word about the Hufflepuff.
“Zacharias…Hi.” In your nervousness, you rocked back and forth on your feet, still reeling from the realization that the brown-eyed blonde before you was your secret admirer. A feeling shamefully close to disappointment began to gnaw at you. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He let out a light laugh, “Yeah, sorry didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to make sure I caught you before it got too dark. Can’t be getting detention again with Filch. ‘Right bastard, that man.” That made you both chuckle. “Anyhow, L/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, maybe grab a butterbeer?”
Eyes widening at his forthrightness, you let out a shocked laugh causing the blonde’s eyebrows to furrow. “Sorry! Sorry. ‘S just…I’m kind of surprised you’re into me.”
Zacharias stared at you in confusion. “Really? I mean, I’ve liked you since our fourth year—when we had History of Magic together. Don’t you remember—I asked you to the Yule Ball that year?”
In fact, you did remember Zacharias asking you to the Yule Ball after class with flowers. You also remembered politely declining—having already secured a date—only for him to turn right around and ask Romilda Vane seconds later with the same bouquet. Rather classy, that was.
“Yeah, I know I ended up going with Romilda, but you were my first choice, you know.”
Geez, way to butter up a girl.
“Still,” you let out a quick huff of air, “I didn’t think you were the ‘secret admirer’ type. I guess I figured you’d be straight-up with your intentions,” you mused, picking at a loose strand on your sweater. “You don’t seem the type to play the long game with gifts and notes, and all that.”
Zacharias paused, an unreadable expression flickering over his face. Running a hand thorough his cropped locks, he looked away at the Black Lake’s horizon before smiling back at you.
“What can I say?” replied Zacharias. “I’m a chaser. I go after what I want. And what I want, is to take you on a date to Hogsmeade this weekend. So…?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.
What an absolute line.
Words on the tip of your tongue to turn him down once again, you remembered the words of your wise friends just earlier that afternoon.
What’s the harm? It’s not like there’s anyone else showing up, no matter how much I might wish for it.
Shoving down your disappointment, you made an effort to smile in return at the Hufflepuff in front of you. “I’d love to, Zacharias.”
Offering his arm, you gingerly accepted, and the two of you walked back toward the castle together, watched only by a lone keeper exiting the nearby quidditch pitch.
After your rendezvous at the Black Lake, you had agreed to meet your friends back at your dormitory to dish. Hence, you were laying on your carpet, chronicling the night’s events in scintillating detail. Like you, your friends were surprised by the identity of your admirer.
“Smith? As in Zacharias Smith?” At your nod, Hannah hemmed and hawed before letting out an expressive, “Huh.”
Sitting up from your horizontal position on the floor, you looked at your friend. “What is it?”
Hannah took her time in answering, before finally finding the words. “It’s just that…Zacharias isn’t exactly who I had been picturing.”
While you were loath to admit it, Zacharias hadn’t been who you were expecting that evening either, nor had he been who you had hoped to see. However, you couldn’t help but wonder why Hannah’s expectations weren’t met.
“Why’s that?” you asked.
Before the Hufflepuff could answer, Ginny gave her two cents, “Well, because he’s a complete wanker.”
“Ginny!”
“What, Han!” exclaimed Weasley, “It’s true! And I know you were thinking it too! He’s one of the worst losers I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying something, considering Ron’s my brother.” That sent you all into a fit of giggles, reminiscing on the times you’d had to witness the sore sport Ron could be when it came to quidditch. “Seriously, though,” the girl continued, “I saw him break a broom in a fit after losing in a scrimmage against Ravenclaw. A scrimmage, Y/n.”
“Not to rag on Zacharias, but I can’t say that I’m terribly fond of him either,” added Hannah. “In our third year, he sold out one of his roommates to Snape after they’d broken into the Potions storeroom together, just so he’d get out of detention. Made it terribly awkward between them for the rest of the term” Hannah sighed, “He’s not exactly a model Hufflepuff.”
Their stories only confirmed the sinking suspicion already settling in your mind. The time you had spent with Zacharias wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t something you took to regularly reminiscing on. You distinctly remembered the feeling of relief when your History of Magic project together had ended. But that had been three years ago.
Plopping down beside you, Hermione nudged your shoulder. “Maybe he’s turned a new leaf? If he did all of this for you to show how interested he was, something’s had to have changed, right? None of us really know him.”
“I’m really hoping you’re right, Hermione” you admitted. “I think the romantic in me might die if I find out he’s the tosser you lot have made him out to be. After all the thought he put into those gifts and notes…”
“It doesn’t bode well to make assumptions about people, Y/n. Just think about all the things people say about Luna,” remarked Padma to your left.
“Pads!” you gasped in shock.
“Look, I love Luna and all her oddities and idiosyncrasies,” Padma offered, “But if I had listened to all the awful things people have said about her, I’d have never become friends with her. People call her Loony Lovegood for Godric’s sake!”
Padma’s reasoning seemed to strike a chord with your group of friends. Sighing, Hannah turned to level a look at you. “Padma’s right, you know. We shouldn’t assume he sucks just from a handful of choice anecdotes.”
“We’ve forgiven all manner of sins, after all,” surmised Ginny. “Even with Ron’s grousing after losing a quidditch match, Hermione still wants to snog the living daylights out of my brother. Can’t understand it for the life of me.”
“Ginny—enough!”
“What? Am I wrong?”
The next day, Hogwarts’s rumor mill was churning out the news of your impending date with Zacharias Smith. Intending to escape the careless whispers and curious looks waiting for you at breakfast in the Great Hall, you had made your way to the Kitchens. With a quick ‘Hello’ to Dobby and Winky, you grabbed a muffin (or three) and stuffed your mouth before heading towards the library. There, the murmurs of your classmates were kept at bay by the harsh glare of Madam Pince, ever the watchful librarian. However, it seemed not everyone feared the archivist’s death glare.
“You’re going out with that prick, Smith?” The harsh accusation had your head snapping to find the person who had leveled it at you. That clipped tone belonged to none other than your coveted Potions partner currently towering above you and your corner table. To the untrained eye, Theo appeared terribly composed. Yet, you could see the tension in his neck, seemingly like a serpent ready to make a lethal strike. His eyes were glacial, boring into your own, mouth in a stern line to complete his sinister expression.
Narrowing your eyes at the venom leaking from his voice, you snappily answered. “I’ve agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him, yes.”
Theo didn’t seem to very much like your answer.
“Why?”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“Why’ve you agreed to go out with that gormless git?”
“Excuse me?”
“I thought it was a joke when Enzo mentioned it. I wouldn’t do you the disservice of imagining it possible. How could Y/n go out with someone so incredibly thick and inconsiderate? Imagine my surprise when I found out Berkshire was being completely serious.”
You were struck by the leveled ire of his words. The Theo in front of you was completely unrecognizable to you, no longer the sarcastic and thoughtful Slytherin you had come to know—come to care for. While it was perfectly fair for you to have your reservations about your upcoming date with the Hufflepuff, Theo had no right to poke his nose in your business. Anger began to bubble up inside of you like a heated cauldron.
“Not that it’s your concern, Theo, or Berkshire’s—or anyone’s concern for that matter, but yes, I have agreed to go out with him.”
Theo had the gall to laugh. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am completely serious!” you scoffed. “And he’s been exceedingly thoughtful and considerate, if you must know. Sweets, flowers, notes, and the like! What do you know about being considerate, Theodore? Coming in here to scold me like a child!”
The face in front of you drained of color, no longer a vexed red. Confusion replaced his choleric expression before settling into his stony façade once more.
“You really think Smith would do all of that, for you? That he would care about you that much?”
His questions sent a painful pang through your heart, never expecting such cruelty from someone you had come to consider as a friend, and possibly more.
“As a matter of fact, Nott, I do.” With each word out of your mouth, that carefully constructed mask of measured indifference solidified. Everything you said would only bounce off his exterior. The boy in front of you was beyond reach.
Kissing his teeth, Nott hummed. “And here I was, giving you more credit than you deserved. My mistake.” With that, the Slytherin spun on his feet, making his swift exit from the library.
With half a mind to go after him, you popped out of your seat, chair screeching against the ground. You called out at his retreating form.
“Nott, what—where are you going? We’ve got Potions in five!”
“You’ll manage without me, L/n.”
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