pairing; theodore nott x sick!reader
summary; your best friend theo takes care of you while you’re sick
warnings; childhood friends too scared to admit their love, fluff, very soft theo
notes; yk that one scene from people we meet on vacation?
Some say that a connection that transcends feeble emotions is rare, that being able to completely understand another is a gift.
You didn’t remember when Theodore Nott, the quiet boy your parents would force you to play with while your families had dinner, became Theo, your best friend. But between the quiet moments of comfort he’d provide after another year of not receiving a Christmas gift from your parents and the careful one-sided conversations where you would listen to his worries about his future; that fickle bond strengthened into a friendship that fueled you like the blood coursing through your veins.
Perhaps your two beings were always meant to find each other. Maybe the universe had welded your hearts to beat in sync and curated your very souls to perfectly align. Like when you’re studying late one night and Theo immediately knows you don’t understand the Potions assignment but refuse to ask for help, so he calmly slides his notes across the table without even looking up from his own work. Attentive, careful, but inadvertent, as if his brain was wired to care for you.
Or how you can spot the clench of his jaw from a mile away—a telltale sign that he’s overwhelmed or that his social battery is just drained. You immediately latch onto his side and plan the smoothest exit possible, all while tracing your nails up and down the inside of his arm because you know it soothes him.
This silent understanding between the two of you stemmed from being around each other your entire lives.
You distinctly remember running around important galas with him, dirtying up the dress your mother told you not to. You two would play in his mansion’s garden until you’d get a rose thorn stuck in your skin and you’d both cry all the way back to his front door—you because the thorn in your finger would surely kill you, and him because seeing you in pain would surely kill him.
Your first couple years at Hogwarts, you’d think your souls were chained together the way you two refused to leave the other’s side. He was your anchor in a sea of change that you thought you’d drown in. You were his lifeline, his comfort, his reason to stay level while the world around him fought to turn him upside down.
Things never changed between you. Not when you got older and started going to parties, where he would drag you up to bed after and take off all your makeup because he knew you hated sleeping in mascara. Not when you’d hide his cigarette packs to slowly start weening him off of it, even when he grumbled about wanting a smoke.
Not even when your friend group, and potentially the entire school, constantly pondered when the two of you would get together.
That wasn’t usually a topic you two talked about. It only made your stomach churn and your feet tap with restlessness. Why would they think that?
“I swear, I tried to come sooner but these bloody chocolates are a pain to find.”
You blinked groggily, lifting your head up from where you were curled up in a mountain of blankets that had become your temporary home.
Summer break couldn’t have come quicker, but unfortunately, you had spent the first couple days of it feeling a sickness building in your system. Even worse, you’d spent the last few hours dealing with the brunt of it. Your parents condemned you to your room with some sour smelling potion and a notice that they’d be gone for the night at the gala that you had once been excited to attend.
Theo dusted off his pants as he stepped out of your fireplace, Floo Powder still clinging to his brunette strands and a paper bag clutched in one arm. When he looked up, the annoyed furrow of his brows immediately softened, and he lowered his voice slightly, waking over to your bed.
“Oh, cara mia,” his voice was gentle in a way you rarely heard anymore (or were sober enough to register) as he crouched beside your bed, lowering the bag in his arm to the floor. He reached out, gliding his knuckles along your cheek, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. “How are you feeling, hm?”
You could only stare blankly at him, partly because you were basking in the softness of his touch against your skin and partly because you don’t even remember telling him you were sick. Maybe you had and the hazy sensation that riddled your body was messing with your memory. It sure was messing with your vision, or had Theo always looked so soft and blurry around the edges?
The Italian accent that coated all of his words was a saccharine melody that trickled into your ears and down your body, sending tingles all the way to your fingertips. The daze that clouded the world was definitely toying with your thoughts and making you think ludicrous things like how soft his lips would feel against yours or if he would taste like the minty toothpaste he always left in your bathroom during sleepovers.
Slowly, as if scared to mess with the contents of a dream and watch it all vanish before you, you reached for him.
“Teddy? You’re here?” you murmured as your fingers made contact with the soft skin of his cheek. You felt it ripple beneath your fingertips as he cringed at the childhood nickname, though he still allowed your touch to linger.
“You know I hate that name, but yes, I’m here. Are you that out of it?” he smiled softly at you, teasingly, and you couldn’t help but trace the dimple that bloomed beneath his skin.
But then you frowned, retracting your hand and burying your face back into the blankets. “Haven’t had anything to drink tonight, seriously,” the words were jumbled and muffled into the thick cotton wrapped around you, your attempted eye roll turning into a prolonged blink.
Theo, sickening grin still painting his features, just shook his head. He gave your head a comforting pat, ruffling your hair, and stood, placing the bag he brought on your nightstand. He mumbled something about the foul potion that you’d drank but you couldn’t comprehend it over the deafening crinkle of the bag.
“Would you stop making all that noise, please?” you sniffled out, coughing between a few words.
“M’sorry, tesoro, but I brought your favorites,” he carefully pulled out an assortment of items, throwing the empty bag to the floor. “Cauldron Cakes, had the elves make your favorite soup, and…”
Theo trailed off, narrowing his eyes at you as he carefully nudged the blankets off your face to press his palm to your forehead. He frowned immediately, eyes flashing with concern.
“And that hoodie of mine that you like, but I’ll only let you wear it once this fever’s down, got it?”
You huffed, eyes half lidded and tracing the hard lines of his face only softened by your current state. You’d always known your best friend was attractive, how could you not? With the amount of girls that approached you each day asking if you were dating him, why you weren’t dating him, and if they could date him; it was hard not to notice.
Right now, though, he looked like the boy no one else got to see. The Theo that you didn’t have to share with the entire girl population of the school or pretend didn’t exist when he put on his indifferent mask to others.
This Theo was just for you. This Theo made it nearly impossible to control those ludicrous thoughts.
“Still with me, amore?” he asked, thumb brushing along your temple with a reverence one would save for fine china. He leaned in closer, jaw clenched in the way that told you his brain was working overtime to process all the thoughts he was sending it.
“Mhm. You?”
He chuckled, a sweet sound that, if supplied more often, probably could’ve cured your sickness right then. “You making fun of me?” his voice dropped an octave as his fingers began to run carefully along your scalp.
You just sniffled, barely managing a sleepy shake of your head that pulled another fond laugh from Theo’s lips.
“I’m guessing you haven’t eaten today,” he murmured, almost to himself, one hand still gently massaging your head and the other finding your own to fold your fingers over his. “Can you sit up for me, tesoro? You need some food in you.”
His voice, dipped in sweetness and with that gentle rasp, coaxed you to finally pull the blankets lower, allowing him to take in the red rim around your eyes, dark circles, and the coloring of your irritated nose.
“There you are,” he cooed, squeezing your hand once before letting it drop to slide his arms under yours, helping you sit up.
“Theo…” you huffed, blinking groggily at him, body limp in his arms. “You’re s’posed to be at that party…” Finally able to get a good look at him, your eyes trailed over his figure.
His hair was disheveled and you knew he’d been running his hands through it in that way he always did when he was stressed. He had a dress shirt on but the first few buttons were undone and the sleeves were wrinkled from where he’d pushed them up to his elbows. The soft pink of his lips tugged up again, pupils dilated and trained on you with quiet fascination.
“I was there, but I couldn’t find you. Talked to your parents and they said you were home with a fever,” he tilted his head closer, propping you up against your pillows. “What fun are those silly things without you, anyway?”
If your entire face wasn’t already warm from the fever, it scorched as his soft words hit your ears. He sounded so real and it shot a shiver down your spine. Quiet confessions like that, the ones he easily gave you like they were written in a constitution, nearly broke you every time. They made you spiral, made you rethink your decade long friendship.
They made your heart soar up to the clouds but made your stomach plummet. If he said those things to you so easily, how was he saying them to other girls?
Before you knew it, a steaming thermos of your favorite soup was below your nose as Theo stirred its contents. You frowned at it, not feeling an appetite at all but wanting to taste the savory soup that you cherished.
“I can’t…m’not hungry,” you grumbled sadly, fingers toying with your blankets.
“Just a few bites, per favore?”
You wished you could say no to him.
Theo spoon fed you nearly half of the soup before he finally closed it and put it back in his bag. Then, being the overbearing and protective best friend he is, he forced you out of bed and into a slightly cold shower.
“Leave the door unlocked,” he’d said, and when you asked why, he only smirked. “Can’t have you collapsing in the shower with no help, right, principessa?”
You merely rolled your eyes but obliged, returning a few minutes later to him cleaning your messy nightstand. Not only that, he’d replaced your sheets and left only one blanket from your previous pile.
“My blankets, Theo…!” you whined, throwing your dirty clothes off to the side.
He straightened up at your voice, taking in the sight of you, standing and less flushed after a refreshing shower. He smiled, reaching for a bundle of fabric and tossing it to you. “Speaking full sentences now, I see. Feeling better?”
The piece of clothing hit you square in the chest, and upon unfolding it, you smiled as you saw it was your favorite hoodie of his. It practically belonged to you with the amount of times you’d stolen it from his closet and kept it for weeks.
“I will get snot all over your hoodie, Nott,” you scoffed, pulling it over your head and watching it fall to your thighs.
Theo merely laughed as you trudged over to your bed and sunk into the fresh sheets, immediately curling up under the blanket and letting your eyes flutter shut.
When your best friend spoke again, his voice was gentle and right in front of your face. You kept your eyes closed, swallowing hard. “Need anything else, cara?”
You shook your head and felt him linger for just a second longer before footsteps retreated from your bed. At once, you snapped your eyes open.
“Where are you going?” you asked him, sounding almost panicked as he stopped in his tracks and turned, book dangling from his left hand.
“Letting you sleep,” he responded in a questioning tone, brows furrowed in confused amusement.
You shook your head, opening up your blanket. Maybe the haze that’d fallen over the world since you’d been sick was truly messing with your brain, but you knew for sure that you wanted him close. You always wanted him close. It wasn’t like you and Theo hadn’t ever shared a bed or anything, so there was no harm done.
“Tesoro…”
“Teddy…”
He scowled at you and you only gave your best desperate smile, patting the empty space beside you. “Please?” You added on, the juicy red cherry on top.
With a dramatic huff, Theo strode over to your bed, kicked off his shoes, and huddled under the covers beside you. He held out his arm expectantly and you immediately nestled in, cheek smushed against his chest, leg thrown over his waist, and arm splayed across his torso.
“I just can’t say no to you,” he mumbled, the arm around your shoulders pulling you in tighter while his other one reached for your thigh, dragging you partially on top of him.
“You love me, Theo,” you mumbled sleepily, already halfway into a deep sleep. “And I love you. Please don’t love anyone else.”
Theo’s breath hitched, arm pausing on its way around your shoulders, but you were already asleep.
“Ti amo anch'io, tesoro,” your best friend mumbled, lips pressed to your hairline as he slowly relaxed with your weight against him.
What you didn’t see was Theo’s fond gaze soaking in the sight of you so comfortable against him, the pads of his fingers tracing along the shell of your ear and down your jaw, rubbing your collarbone and finally finding a home in your hair. He soothed your scalp, fingers carding through the strands in that careful way he knew would only send you deeper into sleep.
The book he was supposed to be reading sat on your nightstand collecting dust. He knew he wasn’t going to so much as open it while you were in his arms. He’d stop the world from spinning just so you could rest uninterrupted a few minutes longer. Because his usually loud brain was silent when you were near. Because his future didn’t seem as daunting with you in the picture.
Just as long as you stayed there, by his side, like it always had been.