theodore nott.

always started the same.

a message. sometimes a glance across the great hall. sometimes a scribbled note charmed to burn after reading. this time, it was a spell traced in fog on the window outside the astronomy tower.

you needed him again.

and theodore was always there.

he never asked why. not really. not with words. he didn’t need to. the pattern had long been set in motion. you and draco would fight. your voice would crack. his would raise. glass would break. and you’d leave with a storm behind your ribs, with mascara smudged and breath short.

then there was theodore. always theodore.

waiting in the same corridor, behind the suit of armor near the library's forgotten stairwell. shadows covered the walls there, the torches flickering low. it smelled of cold stone and secrecy.

tonight, it was no different.

his back was to the wall when you arrived. eyes half-lidded. hands in the pockets of his uniform trousers. calm. composed. dangerous in the soft way only theo could be.

he looked up as he heard your steps echo.

his mouth curled into a slow smile. not mockery. not pity. something darker. warmer. something that made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t name.

amd theo moved.

two steps forward. close enough to smell the gardenias from the perfume draco gave you last week. close enough to see the tears you refused to let fall. close enough to feel like home. his hand came up slowly. fingers brushing your jaw. his thumb against your cheek, wasn’t possessive. not exactly. it wasn’t innocent, either.

"draco again?"

the words were gentle. almost tender. but calculated. he already knew the answer.

"told you." he murmured, eyes fixed on your mouth now, "you shouldn’t cry for him."

you couldn’t answer. your throat felt like it was closing. you hated how he always found you in pieces. hated how he never looked surprised. hated how part of you wanted to stay in those shadows with him.

"he doesn’t deserve the way you look at him," theo continued, voice lower, as if someone might hear. "you know that, hm?"

you nodded. or maybe just moved.

your hand found his shirt. fingers curled in the fabric. not pulling him in, but anchoring yourself.

theo tilted his head. watching. always watching.

and then, quieter:

"you only ever look at me like this when he breaks you."

his words sank in like a knife wrapped in silk.

he stepped even closer. your backs almost to the stone wall now. your breath shallow.

he didn’t kiss you. not yet.

theo liked to wait. liked to feel when your resistance became hunger. liked to see you unravel for him slowly.

"i could make you forget him," he said softly. "if you let me."

his thumb still stroked your cheek. not pushing. not pulling. just there. like a promise.

you felt your chest rise too quickly. you looked up into his eyes, searching.

theo always knew.

knew what you wanted. knew what you needed. knew how to hold it in front of you just long enough to make you beg.

you hated that. and you loved it. 'cause even when you belonged to draco.. it was theo who had you. always.

and he knew it.