“i want smut” “ i want hurt/comfort” — but what if i said i want the most heartbreaking angst followed by fluffy ass comfort followed by hot ass make up sex all rolled into one fic
When a careless spell erases her memories of Theo, he’s left grappling with the pain of being forgotten. As she returns to seeing him as just another Slytherin, Theo must navigate a world where the love they shared no longer exists—at least, not in her mind. But Theo refuses to give up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of the connection they once had.
WARNINGS: angst, fighting, not 100% canon compliant 
DEDICATION
thank you so much to @amiableness for helping me with chapter! i don’t know what i would do without you and giving me motivation to write this! i love you! 🤎
thank you to @mischievousmoony for helping my brain block i was having and helping me with ideas, you’re amazing and i love you! 🫶🏼
"Is the coast clear?" you whisper to Theo, your heart pounding in your chest. Sneaking into the Room of Requirement had always been nerve-wracking, but with the additional new rules Umbridge had enforced and the rising threat of Voldemort, it felt more dangerous than ever. Even more so because Theo was betraying his own house and friends to be here.
Theo takes another quick glance down the corridor, then nods. He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you out from your hiding spot.
You both move swiftly and silently toward the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement appears. You glance behind you, double-checking to make sure no one is following, before Theo tugs you inside.
Inside, the room is already alive with the sound of practicing defense spells. You and Theo head to the corner that has unofficially become your spot. Some of the others still cast wary glances at Theo, unsure if they can trust a Slytherin among them. Only the Golden Trio seems comfortable with his presence.
As you settle in, the adrenaline from sneaking around begins to subside, but your worry for Theo doesn’t. You can’t help but think about the risks he's taking—defying his father's beliefs, lying to his friends, putting himself in danger—all because he believes in making a change. You know how much he cares for them, and it breaks your heart that he's forced to choose between them and doing what’s right.
You shift closer to Theo, your hand resting lightly on his knee, a silent attempt to anchor him. He’s still tense, his eyes sweeping the room as if on constant alert. Instead of reaching for the textbook like usual, he closes it and sets it aside, surprising you.
“I think we both know enough for now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Let’s practice today instead.”
You know the purpose of these meetings is to practice spells, but the thought of doing so in front of your peers makes your stomach twist with anxiety. The fear of messing up or accidentally hurting someone lingers in your mind, making the idea of participating overwhelming.
Theo, ever attuned to your emotions, senses your hesitation. He gently pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll start simple,” he whispers reassuringly, his lips brushing against the side of your head in a tender kiss. “Just a quick Expelliarmus. You’ve got this.”
His warmth and steady presence begin to melt away your nerves, making the idea of practicing a little less daunting. With Theo by your side, you feel like you can handle whatever comes next.
Reluctantly, you pull away from his embrace, already missing the warmth. Moments like these—where you could be close to him without worrying about prying eyes—were rare. Even in the hallways, you could barely walk side by side without Umbridge or Filch barking at you to separate.
You stand, shrugging off your robe to give yourself more freedom of movement, and follow Theo to an open space.
“Alright, you know the movement, and you’ve seen it done. You’ve got this, amore,” Theo encourages, his words ringing with confidence.
Your muscles tense. If you mess up, the spell could do more than just disarm him; it could knock him out. But when Theo flashes that smile—the one that always makes your heart skip—you find yourself believing you can do it.
You take your stance, feeling the weight of the moment as Theo prepares himself, raising his wand as if ready to duel. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and shout, “Expelliarmus!” The spell shoots out from your wand, hitting its mark perfectly. Theo’s wand flies across the room, landing with a clatter as relief floods through you.
Theo’s grin widens as he claps and cheers, “I knew you could do it, tesoro!”
You watch him jog to retrieve his wand, a warmth spreading through your chest. How did you get so lucky to have him? He’s your anchor, the reason you keep pushing forward. He makes you want to be better, to reach higher.
When Theo returns, he places his hands on either side of your face, his eyes shining with pride. “See? You were amazing. Nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.
The kiss is slow and tender, each movement gentle as if savoring the moment. You taste the faint remnants of cigarettes and the sweetness of his breakfast. It’s a kiss that speaks of quiet reassurance, of the bond you share, strong and unwavering.
But then you remember where you are, in front of everyone. You pull back, your lips lingering just a moment longer before you peck his lips one last time, a small smile playing on your face.
“I love you, Theo,” you whisper, your foreheads touching, the world around you fading away as you both savor the closeness of the moment.
But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.
As you and Theo are lost in your own world, Harry is practicing a spell, the weight of the war and the responsibility of training others pressing heavily on him. The stress shows in his furrowed brow as he skims through spells in his textbook, landing on Obliviate, the charm to erase specific memories. Whatever memories Harry wants to erase is up for debate, but he doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of the spell.
With only a quick glance at the incantation, he swishes and flicks his wand, but nothing happens. Frustration builds as he tries again, more forcefully, but to no avail. Sweat slicks his palm, and with a sharp, aggressive flick, his wand slips from his grip.
Sparks fly out, ricocheting off the floor and walls. Harry tries to shout a warning, but it’s too late. The spell rebounds, hitting the back of your head and sending you flying into Theo.
Theo barely reacts in time, catching you as you collapse into his chest, limp and unresponsive. His arms instinctively wrap around you as he kneels, lowering you gently to the floor.
You look as if you’re merely asleep, but your breaths come slow and shallow. Panic seizes Theo as he brushes your hair out of your face, his voice trembling.
“Amore, come on, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his mind racing for what to do.
A crowd of students gathers around you both, their whispers only fueling Theo’s panic. He snaps, his voice a sharp contrast to the desperation in his heart. “Who did this?!” he demands, his eyes wild as they scan the frightened faces.
“It was me, I’m sorry, I—” Harry begins, but Theo is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, his rage palpable.
“You’re dead, Potter!” Theo snarls, his grip tightening.
Fred and George are quick to intervene, pulling Theo off Harry, while Ron helps steady his shaken friend. “Let’s calm down, yeah?” Fred says, trying to reason with Theo. “We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be okay.”
“She better be,” Theo threatens, his voice low and dangerous. He shrugs off the twins and returns to your side, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches your shallow breaths. When someone offers to help, he waves them off, scooping you up in his arms and pushing past everyone, his focus solely on getting you to safety.
Adrenaline courses through him, fueling his every step as he rushes through the empty corridors—thank Merlin—for six floors until he finally bursts into the hospital wing.
He wastes no time, laying you gently on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey turns to scold him, but the words die in her throat when she sees your unconscious form.
“What happened?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.
“She was fine one second, then something hit her head, and she just… collapsed,” Theo says, trying to keep his explanation as vague as possible to avoid suspicion.
“It’s okay, Theodore,” Madam Pomfrey reassures him, her voice softening. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Let me examine her. Just breathe, grab a chair, alright?”
Theo nods, though he can hardly think straight. He watches anxiously as Madam Pomfrey performs a series of diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing as each result comes back normal.
“I’m not finding anything out of the ordinary, Nott,” she finally says, puzzled. “She seems perfectly fine, just asleep.”
But Theo isn’t looking at her. He’s holding your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he wills you to wake up.
“We’ll wait until she comes around, okay? I’ll let you stay with her overnight to keep an eye on things,” Madam Pomfrey says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder before drawing a partition around your bed to give you both some privacy.
As soon as she’s gone, Theo chokes back a sob, his worst fears clawing at him. He knows something is wrong—no one just falls unconscious like that from a spell. He pulls the thin blanket up to cover you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple.
“I love you too, amore. You’re gonna be okay, alright?” he whispers, his voice cracking as he desperately hopes for a response, his heart aching in the silence.
———
Theo stirred awake as he felt a sudden movement beneath him. His eyes opened groggily, his head lifting from where it had been resting on your stomach, his arm still wrapped around your waist. The scratchy hospital wing blanket was a far cry from the soft one you were used to, but Theo had barely noticed, too consumed by worry to care about his own discomfort.
As you rubbed your eyes harshly, Theo blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his own, running a hand through his tousled hair. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, when he heard your voice—sharp, confused.
“Nott? What are you doing here? And why am I in the hospital wing?”
Theo’s heart dropped. The way you said his name—Nott, not Theo, not love—sent a chill through him. He tensed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tesoro, you were hit in the head, remember?” He reached out for your hand, desperate to offer some comfort, but you jerked it away before he could touch you.
“This isn’t funny, Nott! What prank are you and your friends pulling now?” Your glare was like a knife to his chest, cutting deep. Theo’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm even as panic clawed at him. The way you looked at him, the suspicion and anger in your eyes, made everything clear that something was terribly wrong.
“Please, just listen to me—” he started, but the words felt hollow. His worst fears were playing out right in front of him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.
Theo jumped to his feet and rushed toward Madam Pomfrey, who was just arriving at the entrance to the hospital wing.
“She’s awake, but she’s acting like she doesn’t know me—please, you have to help,” Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. He wasn’t one to beg, not unless it was to you, but now the words spilled out uncontrollably, fear gripping his heart.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, quickly following him back to your bedside. You were sitting up, fiddling with your hands, a deep scowl etched on your face. Theo’s stomach churned at the sight—he knew that scowl too well, but it had been a long time since it had been directed at him.
“Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and calm as she began to check your vitals.
You shrugged, casting a wary glance at Theo, who hovered behind the nurse, his heart pounding in his chest. “I feel okay, just confused about how I ended up here.”
“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability, alright?”
You nodded, and Madam Pomfrey proceeded with the standard questions—what year it was, who the Minister of Magic was, what you did yesterday. You answered each one correctly, with ease, but Theo’s dread only deepened with every word. Everything you said lined up, except for one glaring omission—there was no mention of him. Not in any of it.
Madam Pomfrey paused, her gaze flicking to Theo before she asked the question that made his blood run cold. “Do you know him?” she asked, pointing to Theo.
You rolled your eyes and huffed, your irritation clear. “Yeah, he’s Theodore Nott, Slytherin. Which I’m still confused about—why is he here?”
Theo felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. The way you looked at him, the casual indifference in your voice, transported him back to a time before everything had changed—before you had opened your heart to him. It was as if the last year and a half had been erased, and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but the familiar coldness in your eyes made it nearly impossible to breathe.
Theo felt his world collapse around him. He couldn’t stay in that room, couldn’t bear to see you look at him like he was a stranger. As Madam Pomfrey explained to you that you’d been hit in the head and Theo had brought you in, he bolted from the hospital wing, stumbling into the hallway. He leaned against a cold stone column, clutching his chest as panic set in. His heart raced uncontrollably, his breaths shallow and ragged. It was another panic attack, but this time, you weren’t there to help him through it. You didn’t even remember him. All those memories—the ones he cherished most—were gone. And it was all because of Potter.
His vision tunneled, everything blurring except for one thought: Harry had done this. He was the reason Theo’s entire world had been ripped away. And Harry was going to pay.
Theo knew exactly where to find him. He’d memorized Harry’s schedule down to the minute, having spent so much time with you before breakfast as you walked with Hermione and Harry. If he timed it right, he’d catch Harry just before he entered the Great Hall.
As Theo rounded the corner, he spotted the trio ahead. They noticed him too, and he saw the tension rise in their shoulders. But Theo was too far gone to care about what they thought. All he saw was Harry—the cause of all this pain.
Without hesitation, Theo marched straight up to them. His usual calm, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by a storm of raw, unfiltered anger. He shoved Harry hard, sending him stumbling back, barely managing to stay on his feet.
“Nott, let’s talk about this,” Harry started, his voice laced with caution.
“What was the spell, Potter?” Theo demanded, his voice rough with barely contained fury.
“It was an accident!” Harry insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. “It was Obliviate. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her!”
Theo’s hand shot out, grabbing Harry by his robe, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of his breath. A twisted smile played on Theo’s lips as he tightened his grip. “Oh, but I’m going to mean to hit you.”
He drew back his fist, ready to make Harry pay for everything he’d taken from him. But just as he was about to strike, your voice cut through the chaos, stopping him cold.
“Nott, what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, rushing toward them, your eyes flashing with anger.
Harry immediately tried to shield you from the truth. “Trouble, it’s fine, really—”
“No, it’s not fine!” you interrupted, glaring at Theo as you pushed him away from Harry. “I’m sick of Slytherins picking on you-us for no reason!”
Theo felt his heart shatter as he watched you fix Harry’s robe, your attention entirely on his supposed enemy. You had no idea what Harry had done, what he had stolen from both of you.
When you finally turned back to Theo, the disgust in your eyes was a knife to his heart. “You’re pathetic, Nott, and you’ll never change,” you spat, the venom in your words leaving him reeling.
The surrounding students watched in stunned silence, the full weight of what had just happened sinking in. They now understood why Theo had been so close to breaking Harry’s face.
As you turned your back on him and walked away with your friends, Theo stood there, frozen. The disappointment in your eyes, the harshness of your words—it was too much. He felt like he might collapse under the weight of it all. But instead, he just stood there, watching you disappear into the Great Hall, his world crumbling around him.
Your words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep from breaking apart. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, helpless and shattered.
The hallway, once filled with tension, was now eerily silent, the students having scattered. Theo was left alone in the aftermath, cold and hollow, the life drained out of him in those few, terrible moments. You had been his anchor, his reason to believe in something beyond the darkness that had always surrounded him. And now you were gone, ripped away by a single, careless spell.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he finally moved, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t lose you. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring you back to him. And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, he would.
The Cruel Prince trilogy is one of those rare type of books where the second and third reread is better than reading it for the first time.
Yeah reading it for the first time is great when you're focused on betrayals and Jurdan. Or you might not even like Jurdan because it's not the typical type of chemistry and progress in the relationship. But then you see people's posts and realize you've missed a whole bunch of stuff and go back to reread it and suddenly see all the signs of how much Cardan wanted to be with Jude, and how everyone was aware of it except Jude, and that faeries feel and express differently from humans. And not even Jude can be held up to the normal human standards. There's also shit ton of political details. And so the second and third rereads just hit different.
I love how holly black took the ‘brooding and mysterious love interest who is a jerk but is secretly in love with the mc” and instead of making a charismatic asshole with a six pack she made a pathetic loser boy who is drunk all the time, can’t fight, and wants nothing to do with the main plot.
one thing I appreciate about holly black is she easily could've gone down the route of jude either finding out she was suddenly "blessed" with some power or turned into a faerie somehow but instead kept jude mortal and let her continue being the badass she is and claw her way into her position. She is just a regular human, and I LOVE this detail so much
dailybridgerton
2087
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
