Hanging out with Theodore's Slytherin friends, became somewhat common for you, his girlfriend.

Surprisingly, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Blaise, Pansy and even Draco had been extremely welcoming; including you in conversations, which soon grew to an amicable friendship. When Pansy arrived to the already awaiting group, announcing that today, you won't be able to join, Theodore frowned at that. Why? He asked himself, then voiced his concerns. According to Pansy, it seems that tonight, you're not feeling well.

Huh, vague. Theodore can't help but mourn this fact, having been somewhat excited to spend the evening with you and his friends, hanging around the castle.

Half an hour in, Theodore barely joins the conversation, his thoughts too worried about you. Overthinking ─ for how long haven't you been feeling well? A hour ahead, Theo bounces his leg, his foot making a quiet clicking nose on the floor, showcasing the anxiety that his stoic expression doesn't let it show. It doesn't reach two hours of hanging out, before Theodore abruptly stands up, deciding that enough is enough, and that he'll go take care of you, or at least make sure that you're alright.

Theodore enters inside your bedroom, unceremoniously ─ a knock as he's already opening the door, ready to fuss over you. There's a hoodie of his on his arm, an extra blanket, a package of pills and a potion vial. A warm drink in his hand, as his worried green eyes seek for you.

"Bella," he calls for you, the Italian accent thick and almost messy, as he gets his hands free to reach out for you. "Are you feeling alright, are you sick? Do you need a painkiller— I've brought a potion for you. Carina, febbre, o dolore?"

As stupid as it sounds, Theodore is worried sick. He doesn't admit it to himself, even as he seems to look for any bruise, any sign of sickness. Theodore Nott can't help but feel his irrational fear that something will take you away from him ─ not being there, should fate cruelly take you away from him, as it did with his mother.