This is Not the End
Pull yourself together, you bloody fucking idiot, Theo Nott scolded himself.
It's not like you haven't talked to her before. This is Daphne for crying out loud, you've known her for years! For Salazar's sake, she's your best friend!
That last thought hit him again. Harder.
Fuck, Salazar, she's your best friend.
Fuck.
Theo cursed himself as he followed the smiling, cute, beautiful, PERFECT witch that was Daphne Greengrass into the crowded seating area of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.
His breathing was fast and he itched to loosen the uncomfortable knot around his throat, but he'd fumbled with his tie for an hour before Draco stepped in to help, tying the gunmetal gray strip of fabric with swift ease.
So naturally, like it was in Draco's second nature to tie pristinely perfect ties.
Usually, Theo had that same practiced perfection, having been to dozens and dozens of galas and even more fundraisers as was wholly expected of the heir of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. But Daphne seemed to have this effect on him. Everything she did seemed to make him forget himself completely. He wouldn't remember where he was or what his parents expected him to do, or even how to do that simple thing called walking.
She could walk by shining that radiant smile that seemed to be permanently etched on her face, or she could choke back a laugh he knew was there from one of his crude jokes because that shouldn't be funny Theo, honestly, such vulgarity is extremely unnecessary, or she could laugh… Merlin, she could laugh. He was almost certain that the melody of her laugh would carry down hallways and through doors, and into classrooms from the other side of the castle if only to find his ears.
Her laugh was his favourite sound in the entire fucking world. Probably, too, across every galaxy and in every other life.
The simple sound of it, of her, so happy, made him instantly forget all of the woes of the world. The tune made him believe, if only for a few moments, that all was right and all was good.
For Theo, Daphne was synonymous with sunshine in its purest form.
But this, Theo realized, was both his biggest asset and his biggest weakness.
He loved Daphne. He loved being around her, he loved what she believed in, he loved the way she paid attention to him, he loved the way she smelled. And, Merlin, he loved the way she made him feel, as if he, too, could be good and happy.
He had let her become such an integral part of his life, so much so that he was certain that he could not face a life without her. After all, when he had bad days, she was always the one to cheer him up. When he had good days, she was the only person he wanted to share them with.
If she decided this date, their first date, wasn't good enough, what would that mean for their friendship? If she decided that their relationship should stay strictly platonic, would he be able to see her every day knowing that he would never have her in the ways he really wanted?
That's why he was currently cursing himself so harshly. He'd finally worked up the courage to ask her out and he was blowing it in the first five minutes.
"Daphne, hi," he said, standing there awkwardly. No hug, no handshake, no... nothing.
"You look beautiful this morning," he complimented with a tweak of his mouth. "Not that, you don't look beautiful every morning," he quickly amended, running a hand through his thick hair, looking downward, "or– or all the time, really."
A small smile found its way onto Daphne's lips. Shyly, she opened her mouth to greet him with a response of some kind.
But Theo spoke again before she could say anything. "It's your skin, isn't it? Your skin always looks... uh, nice. I like it. But especially today." He struggled to get the words out. "Not that it wasn't fine yesterday... shit, I shouldn't have said 'fine.' And... Now I've gone and said 'shit' like I don't know you hate when I curse around you. I'm just," he trailed off with a sigh, dropping his hands from his hair and leaving them uncomfortably at his sides.
"It could have been worse," Daphne started, trying to restore some sort of normalcy between the two. But before she could properly get a sentence out, she was interrupted once again.
He shook his head glumly,. "I knew I was going to fuck it up today, but I thought we'd at least have made it inside the tea shop first."
Daphne frowned, more at the evident nerves and outright pessimistic view that Theo rambled through than his use of curses, but the nervous boy misinterpreted and, of course, then realized his use of even more offensive language.
"Oh, piss it," he breathed barely loud enough for her to hear.
"Why don't we go find a table inside," she spoke quickly, trying to alleviate the tension in Theo's broad shoulders and effectively ensuring he wouldn't talk over her this time.
She smiled at him encouragingly. He nodded stiffly.
Daphne turned to walk the short distance to the door, Theo following behind her. "Maybe there's a window seat open," she offered lightly over her shoulder as she gently pulled the door open for them. "That storm finally seems to have moved past."
The bell on top of the doorframe chimed happily as the door swung shut behind Theo, bringing him out of the painful memory he was reliving.
Seriously, he thought. "Your skin always looks... uh, nice. I like it." What kind of casanova says shit like that on a date? And then he had to go and drop "shit" and "fuck" on her like an unrefined sailor. But it still wasn't over. He had been so flustered, he'd completely forgotten to open the door for her like a fucking gentleman should.
Damnit, he thought.
Every governess he'd ever had was probably turning over in their graves right now, even the ones that hadn't died yet.
He shook his head at himself in an attempt to get his disorderly thoughts in order as he took quick steps inside. He reached for the back of her chair mere seconds before she took it.
Theo Nott was a gentleman, thank you very much. He knew how to court a woman. He couldn't let her get both the door and the chair, now could he?
She smiled at him brightly, though she jumped ever-so-gracefully at his quick movement for the chair.
He valiantly attempted to smile back at her, but again, his nerves had overtaken his body and the expression came off far more demented than flirtatious.
He was still trapped in his tornado of self-deprecation as he took his seat across from her. With a deep breath that she definitely noticed, he draped the white napkin over his lap before looking up at her across the table.
Yep, it was still his Daphne.
Well, not his Daphne. Not really anyway. Not unless you mean his best friend, Daphne. Then, sure, that would be fine.
Daphne's eyes scanned the tea list, giving him more time to steady himself.
"What kind of tea are you thinking, Theo?" came her calm voice just as familiar as every other time they've spoken.
She looked up from the menu, finally, meeting his steady gaze, and she smiled again. "Earl Gray? Or, maybe, chamomile with honey?" she wondered.
He answered without really thinking. He didn't really care what kind of tea they were drinking anyway. "Chamomile sounds nice," he offered. She smiled again, and he wished, for the first time ever, that she would stop doing that.
Didn't she realize the effect she had on him?
He stuttered through their order when the waitress came by. He'd managed to order more scones than would be humanly possible to eat because decisions were hard and he knew she liked both the raspberry and the lemon and the waitress was standing right there, hovering really, and Theo Nott was not good under pressure.
Obviously.
When the waitress had left, the brunette witch let out a small giggle at his discomfort. Looking down, he ran his fingers through his curly hair.
"I'm really glad that storm is over," she conversed as she glanced out the nearby window. "It's still dreary outside, but at least it isn't raining." She let her gaze fall back to Theo's face, which had softened slightly but was still far stiffer than it usually was. "Rain would have put a damper on our date, wouldn't it have?" she tried with a small grin, happy with her pun.
He gave her a small smile back as he answered. "Right, because rain is wet," he agreed rather lamely.
Where was his usual charm, and that sharp wittiness that made him him? She knew the smile hadn't been real, either. She knew him far too well for that sorry attempt at a smile.
She was his best friend, after all.
Thankfully, the tea and scones arrived, giving them a brief, comfortable moment as they fixed up their teas and selected their scones.
The comfort didn't last long, though.
What did he usually talk to her about? The haunting thought assaulted his mind. Everything, it seemed as he considered their history. They frequently talked about schoolwork or their parent's annoying rules and expectations. She frequently ranted to him about Pansy or her other dorm mates, where he would similarly dump his annoyances about the boys on her, too. They would discuss the latest school gossip at length, deciding together how they felt about the newest couple or the hottest scandal.
Really, whatever they had talked about in the past had come so easily, and that was another reason why Theo's feelings were so strong for her. He never had to worry what Daphne would think before. But that was different now, wasn't it? This date held so much weight, he had to impress her.
And he knew he was not doing a good job of it so far.
Going back to his list of conversation topics, Theo took a calming breath and tried to spark a conversation- a good conversation.
"Draco was in a good mood this morning," he started nicely, feeling lighter at his successful attempt at getting a full sentence out. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear where it stayed.
Damn, now he was distracted again.
"Until, uh- until he jinxed Blaise," he added with a stutter.
Her eyes widened. "What did Blaise do?" she asked, voice full of honest intrigue. But Theo, addled by self-consciousness, thought it to be fake.
Theo's thoughts wandered back to his dormitory that morning. The memory of Blaise's voice singing loudly, Theo and Daphne sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, made his face flush thoroughly. His eyes settled on her lips without instruction before returning to her eyes. He fiddled with the small piece of scone he had left in his hands.
"Blaise? He uh- he made a comment about Draco and Granger again." Theo explained, resting his forearm on the table leaving his fidgeting fist to hover a few inches off of the table. This was starting to feel a little more normal.
Theo went on, "Draco didn't get back to the room until early this morning. He spent most of the night with Granger somewhere," he shrugged. "I'm sure you can see where Blaise's mind went."
"Blaise never learns, does he? He parades around all the time acting as if everything and everyone belongs to him. Except for the things he doesn't want, of course." She took another bite of her lemon scone, chewing slowly before swallowing. "You know, I never really liked Blaise," she admitted with a thoughtful expression.
Theo snorted. "Everyone likes Blaise," he asserted, disagreeing by scrunching his nose. "Everyone."
Daphne rolled her eyes but chose not to argue with him this time. Instead, she said, "I'm glad Draco has found something to be in a good mood about. The beginning of this year, he was such a pain. Hermione is good for him."
He nodded his agreement, shrugging his shoulders. "He's good for her, too," he mused, remembering the way she seemed to be happier lately every time she sat with them at the Slytherin table.
His hand reached toward the plate of scones absentmindedly, his stomach aching for another bite of the sweet deliciousness that Madam Puddifoot was famous for. Maybe a raspberry one this time, he thought.
"And to think they wasted so many years hating each other," Daphne laughed from her side of the table as she brushed a nonexistent fly-away hair out of her face.
"They could have loved each other the whole time," she mused.
She, too, was craving a raspberry scone. When her dainty fingers reached out, the well-manicured tips painted a warm yellow, like sunshine, like her, they brushed his. It was a brief, light touch, barely noticeable, but Theo all about jumped out of his sun-kissed skin.
"Theo!" She shrieked. "What on earth is wrong with you? Why are you being so jumpy and- and-" she sputtered, looking for the word. "And different?"
"In case you hadn't realized it, Daphne, we," he emphasized, gesturing in between them, "are on a date."
He was suddenly more sure of himself, his annoyance and anger replacing his nerves. His tone had a distinct bite to it, but it wasn't anything the Slytherin witch hadn't heard before.
And she was feisty, too. She could hold her own.
"Oh, my mistake," hissed Daphne, eyes narrowing. "I didn't realize that changing the venue and calling this something different meant we had to completely lose our minds and forget who we are: Daphne and Theo; best friends."
She used her arms to gesture wildly, but her sarcasm and dramatics had little effect on him. He reached forward quickly, snatching one of the scones with a tight fist and began picking at it. "It's different, Daph," he asserted, though he used a softer tone and the pet name he'd given her back in fourth year.
She took a deep, agitated breath that sounded more like a huff than anything as she took a scone of her own. She shook her head and sighed, meeting his eyes. "It really isn't."
The Raspberry scone found her lips, and she took a bite. The silence felt both awkward and comfortable.
Theo tossed his uneaten scone onto his plate, uninterested and defeated.
"Look, I-" he paused, unsure of how to say the next few words.
"Fuck."
She heard the whispered word clear enough, thanks to years of deciphering the words he spoke grumpily through his first sip of morning coffee, years of quiet snide comments that he'd mumble under his breath because he didn't want her to hear. She'd learned the language he spoke when he was asleep in the chair by the fireplace because he'd promised to wait up with her as she did her homework.
Fuck, he had said.
Theo ran his sweaty hands up and down his thighs before his expression changed in a blink. His furrowed brow was now steady and angled. His eyes, which had been jumpy like the rest of him, were now locked on hers. Is hands were still, palms pressing against the table as he leant slightly into the table.
"I'm just going to come out and say it, alright?"
She nodded encouragingly. He pressed on before his nerves could overwhelm him again, "I like you. I really like you, Daphne."
They seemed to hold each other's gazes for a moment longer than normal, but Daphne didn't make him wait too long. "Well, I figured as much," she shrugged, a smile finding its way onto her lips and into her eyes.
He stared at her. She was so calm, so casual, so nonchalant about the whole thing. She was absolutely, exactly herself and Theo found it both hypnotizing and frustrating.
After all, he did just confess his feelings to her and she brushed them off with a bloody shrug of her shoulders.
Reaching out to take his hand in her own, Daphne desperately wanted him to see, to understand. "Usually when a guy asks a girl out on a date, it means he likes her. Why else would he ask?" Theo tried to pull his hand away but she wouldn't let him, holding it tighter. "But Theo, listen," she implored. "Usually, when a girl says yes, it means she likes him, too."
His green eyes flicked up to hers, blue, which were boring into his.
Fuck, he thought. Did she just imply that she liked him back?
But Theo could analyze her words. Usually, she had said. Usually, but not always.
Words never mean what we want them to mean.
He refused to let his face or his tone betray the bit of hope that had ignited inside him. "So, does that mean you like me?" he asked, clarifying, and careful.
Her eyes hardened in the way he knew meant she was starting to get annoyed with him. "Do you need me to shout it at you?"
She hadn't answered his question, but it was answer enough. Daphne Greengrass actually liked him. For real. As more than a friend.
Theo's eyes flickered downward and he chose to study the way his hand was covered by hers as he thought that over.
Fuck, fuckity fuck fuck, could this possibly be happening right now?
He replayed it over in his mind like a video he never wanted to stop watching. 'Do you need me to shout it at you?' the look in her eyes, the candidness with which she spoke… Those were the things he'd loved about her for as long as he could remember.
And she had used those exact, mesmerizing qualities to tell him that she liked him.
It could not have been more perfect.
With new found confidence, he flipped over his hand and claimed hers in the same motion. He'd felt her dainty hands, fingers, skin, so many times but now he could properly enjoy the electric sensation that flooded his body without feeling guilty. He thumbed across the back of her hand a few times, watching the skin react to his touch. It turned pale as he pressed, then flooded with color once his thumb moved to a new spot.
It was real.
It was not a dream.
Daphne was smiling when he looked up at her again and he nearly melted. He managed to smile instead, one corner of his lips reaching higher than the other.
Now that he knew, now that she was his, now that he didn't feel like she was going to up and leave before they finished their pot, Theo wanted to stay in that moment forever.
Now that she'd told him, he wanted to know more.
"For how long?" he asked.
Daphne drew her hand away and lifted her teacup to her lips for a drink before responding. "Since the beginning, I expect, same as you."
He watched her eyes brighten as she took another sip, marveling at the idea that he could cause that beautiful reaction.
"I don't know exactly when I fell in love with you, Theo," the brunette witch continued to explain. His jaw almost fell open hearing the word love and his name roll off her tongue in the same sentence. "I cannot point to a day or a week and say, 'here it is, this is when it happened.' I just can't. I think this feeling has always been with me, and I finally figured out what it meant."
Theo didn't know what to do. He had no idea what to say. So he sat there, wondering, just how had this perfect girl, his perfect girl, come to not only like, but love him? How had he gone all this time without realizing it?
It seemed she could read his thoughts, and he wondered if she possessed that superpower all along.
"I've often asked myself why I've fallen for you; how did I fall in love with my best friend? But then I replay our interactions over and over in my mind. The way you tease me, our playful fights, the stupid inside jokes. The way you look at me when something funny happens, even across the room, and the way your head jerks up when I begin speaking in class. And the answer becomes obvious."
She took a breath and leaned forward, closer to him even though the table was still in the way. He wished it wasn't anymore. He wished the bloody table would just vanish entirely, tea and scones and overpriced china altogether.
Daphne Greengrass was in love with him. He didn't give a fuck about the damn china.
He was hearing the sweetest words in her angelic voice and he was melting, and he wanted her closer to him. Surely, if the breath of each word she spoke touched his skin, he would die from too much joy.
But the table was still there. She was still talking and he was still listening.
"I'm in love with you because you're my someone special," she smiled shyly, then laughed at her own thoughts. "You are incredibly stupid, and immature, and you curse like a sailor, and you're excruciatingly blind to others' feelings, but you're also talented, and funny, and unique in your childish ways. You're the person I can always turn to. You're the only one who can make me smile no matter how awful my day has been. You always seem to know where my mind is and when I need reminders to eat. I can say Tracy is my friend, but it's hardly the same thing when I have you to compare her to. It really isn't fair to any of them.
"You are everything. You haven't been mine, not in the way I've wanted, but I know you and I know my memories don't lie. I know you love me. I've seen you love me in a thousand, tiny, unsaid ways. I can see it every day- the way you take care of me, cheer me up, remember things. I know. And I've loved you, too, in the same quiet way. All along, really. We were friends, yes, but this," she said, gesturing between them, "is hardly new.
"And I've just been waiting."
"Waiting?" he asked, finally finding his voice.
Daphne rolled her eyes, sighing. "Yes, Theo," she asserted. "I've watched you waste so much time worrying with that nonsense some call 'hope,' but we've always thought about each other a little to often to be just friends."
Theo nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips at his admission.
He wished he had done this so much earlier, years ago, even. Like Draco and Hermione, he'd wasted so much time.
"I should have done this years ago," he said.
"You worry too much," she admonished, as she shook her head at him, her closed-mouth smile so familiar and uplifting.
"We could have loved each other the whole time."
She looked thoughtfully out the window before her eyes met his again. "We did."
To this, Theo tilted his head, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "That much has always been clear to me, Theo. It was always going to be us in the end," explained Daphne, noticing his confusion.
"The end of what?"
"At the end of the day, at the end of all our days," she glanced around the shop at all of the other couples, mostly happy ones; mostly smiling people. She turned her face back to his, holding his gaze fiercely, yet gently. If those two things could ever coexist, it would be Daphne who figured it out.
She was, after all, a paradox herself.
"We just want to come home to someone who smiles as if we are their entire world."
And then, she did.
Her cheeks became the most stunning rose color and the left corner of her mouth quirked up a bit higher than her right, just like he knew his own did when he was smiling about her.
He knew exactly what her smile meant now, she'd told him. And unlike before, he was not going to waste his time with disbelief or hope or longing.
Theo half-rose from his seat. He leaned across the table, over the mostly-full pot of chamomile tea and the completely-forgotten tower of scones, and he kissed her hard.
After all, it would be rude to make her wait for a second longer.
Not that he could have, even if he tried.
When she kissed him back, just as hard, just as hungry, without a stitch of hesitation, a steady stream of curses scrolled through Theo's mind.
He suddenly wished he could take back every single time he had ever said the word fuck because if this is how it felt to be kissed by Daphne Greengrass, nothing else deserved to be honored with the same profanity.
He pulled away when his legs got tired of hovering and when he realized everyone else must be looking at them, but his eyes did not waver from hers as he sat back in his seat.
For a few seconds, they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became, near, possible, and inevitable.
.
.
A/N: What? OxfordElise has written a one-shot? What? It is a spin-off from Better Than Revenge? YES! I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this little piece!
As always, many thanks to my Beta, Rachelletwin22!
Follow me on Tumblr at OxfordElise for chapter updates, previews, or general discussions! :) If this is your first time reading me, check out Better Than Revenge, the 6th year Dramione that sparked this one-shot.
Disclaimer: All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. The last line of the story was written by Leo Tolstoy in War and Peace. This line served as my inspiration for the plot of this story. All praises go to Leo.
Many thanks to anyone who takes the time to read this story, OxfordElise