theodore nott didn’t have a particularly long list of people he gave a damn about. his family, a tight circle of friends, and, much as he tried to ignore it… you.

sometimes, in moments he'd never tell to anyone, he admitted he cared about you in a way that was far from platonic. — after all, you were his first kiss (as you were to the majority of the friendgroup), but you were also his best friend's girlfriend. or had been, until mattheo had gone and accused you of cheating in front of the entire bloody year. the worst part wasn’t even the shouting — it was that mattheo had claimed you cheated with theo. it wasn't true. a low blow, even for a slytherin.

and while the world kept spinning after that spectacle in the courtyard, you did not.

six weeks had crawled by since that day, and things had only gotten worse.

rumors spread fast. how you’d stopped going to classes entirely. how your face kept popping up at parties, lips locked with whichever boy was nearest. how you’d dropped weight so quickly your robes practically hung off you. how you were either crying or screaming or numbing yourself with firewhiskey every night.

even daphne, your best friend — daphne bloody greengrass, the queen of chaos herself — had finally put her foot down. just last night, she’d sent mattheo to drag you out of whatever party you’d disappeared into. judging by the murderous glint in mattheo’s eyes this morning and the suspicious hole in their dorm wall, theo gathered it hadn’t gone particularly well.

it probably wasn’t his place. maybe he should’ve kept his distance. but he couldn’t. he’d been thinking about you nonstop, worry burrowing into his ribs like a parasite.

so two days later, theo found himself trudging out of bed in the middle of the night, hair a mess, heart pounding as he made his way to your dorm.

the moment he opened your door, he spotted the papers littered the floor, torn bits of parchment scattered everywhere. bottles lay like fallen soldiers, rolling underfoot. clothes were strewn over chairs, your bed a tangle of sheets that looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks.

but the bed was empty and a faint sound drew his eyes to the bathroom. soft, wet sniffles.

theo stepped over a knocked-over bottle and nudged the bathroom door open to find you on the floor, knees hugged tightly to your chest, back pressed against the bathtub. at least four empty bottles were scattered around you like a protective circle. streaks of mascara stained your cheeks and your lashes were clumped together with tears.

theo’s chest ached at the sight. because he remembered the way you used to practically glow. striding through the castle, head high, laughter bright enough to echo off the stone walls.

now you were barely a shadow.

“gods on earth, what the hell happened to you?” he breathed, voice cracking despite himself. he dropped into a crouch beside you, searching your swollen eyes for any trace of the girl he knew. you were unrecognizable.