A/N: When I first started to write this story I had a vague idea about a one-shot. But I couldn't stop there. And I kind of shoot myself on the leg by making the soulbond-thing rare...
But more ideas just continue to appear so who am I to resist!?
Let's say it's some twist of fate these soul bounds just keep happening!
Here is a NottPott! My first ever! Enjoy!
Theo/Harry
It was never a regular scar.
Never something he'd talk about.
Never anything to be proud of.
But it was his
And ever since he realized what it was
It defined him
More than anything else in his pathetic life.
Sometimes he wondered how anyone else hadn't ever noticed it.
How no one paid attention enough to realize…
But then again,
He didn't have a mother
And father had had enough in his hands at the time.
And his grandmother, the one who taught him how to hide the mark,
Was long gone already.
Although now that he thought about it
Maybe she did know what she prepared him to hide.
Maybe she did see what it meant.
Maybe she did realize.
But if she did,
what she thought about it?
Why did she think it was best if he hid it?
Because he was a boy?
Or because he was a Nott?
Because of his father?
Or because of the world?
Never before was he so eager to know than now.
Sitting in the Hogwarts library with the book in his hands.
The book that told him everything he needed to know.
And at the same time nothing at all.
He looks at his right hand,
where angry red "I must not tell lies" looks back at him.
It was never unclear to him who's scars he carried,
but he believed he could ignore them.
Before, when the bruises were regular, but mild.
Or when he passed out in the middle of the common room on first year.
Or when he had to hide in the bathroom and bite his own fist to muffle the scream as his hand felt like someone was sewing it off.
Or when he tried to sit still in the tri wizard audience as he felt the burn of new scars on his leg.
The worst part wasn't the infamous faint scar on his forehead, it was everything that was happening because of that scar.
The worst part wasn't sharing soul scars with a boy.
It was sharing soul scars with Harry Potter.
.
.
.
There was nothing he could do.
No way he could help.
Potter must have had enough aid already.
But the book said half the potential.
And somehow it makes him anxious to think Potter's powers might depend on him.
Makes him anxious to think Potter might not stay alive without him.
He's quite certain Potter isn't aware of having a soulmate.
Doubts he's ever heard of soul scars. No idea what it means.
He's also quite sure Potter thinks he's into girls.
Only the notion alone makes him want to laugh hysterically.
Thinking about telling him that 'Hey, by the way Potter did you know I'm your soulmate? Not only a son of a Death Eater and a Slytherin, but also a bloke.'
Nothing he had read explained why he would be chosen to belong with Potter.
It was always about genes and keeping magical blood strong. But with him and Potter it couldn't be about genes.
Not even magic was that strong.
It wasn't about holding up the lines.
It must be something else.
But nothing gave him answers. No book covered the topic of soulmates being both men.
Or women for that matter.
And if it would have been anyone else he'd suspect he had mistaken.
That there must be a girl with similar scars.
But in his case, mistaking was impossible.
No one mistakes Potter's scars.
And there were many.
New appeared before old had time to heal.
Like every new adventure took a part of him with it.
To Him, it's almost funny how much stories scars hold.
Morbidly amusing maybe…
Because many of his housemates always thought Potter was spoiled and coddled.
Kept in a golden cage where Dumbledore treated him like the new Merlin.
Theo knew better.
He knew the meaning of bruises in his youth.
The shocks of cruciatus last spring.
The feeling of Basilisk venom speeding through the bloodstream.
Every single burn mark and cut and broken bone.
Harry Potter did not live in a loving home.
And Harry Potter wasn't kept as safe as everyone thought he was.
The pureblood parents didn't trust Dumbledore.
And having first hand experience how well he kept the golden boy didn't do much positive promotion.
Theo didn't trust Dumbledore.
But he didn't really trust anyone.
Not even Blaise.
Blaise, who deserved all the trust he could give.
Blaise, who had never done anything to break his faith.
But Blaise didn't know everything.
Somethings,
The darkest, nastiest, scariest secrets Blaise had no idea about.
No one did.
No one should…
.
.
.
His head is aching.
Constantly, all through the fifth year.
Like an undertone that potions can't relieve.
He wonders how Potter stands the pain and stays even as sane as he currently is.
It gets worse by the day.
Keeps him from sleeping at night.
Keeps him sitting hours in the library trying to find a way to get rid of it.
To find a way to even subdue the link.
But of course when it comes to Potter, it's surely something extraordinary.
No-one has probably been a soulmate to someone, who has survived Avada.
Although he's sure it's more than that.
More than an old cursescar.
More than just a mark.
He can almost sense someone tugging on it.
Like there's constantly something looming on the edges of his mind.
Someone who can't quite enter.
It can't be just the soulmate connection,
he never felt it before… Before The Dark Lord came back.
He goes home for holidays.
Father's not there.
He tries not to speculate where he is.
What business he has.
But goes to the vast library.
Searches books of scars.
Books of mental links,
Of dying and killing.
By the end of the holiday, he's quite confident he knows what's wrong.
Doesn't know how to proceed.
How to feel about it,
But he knows.
Although knowing might be worse than ignorance.
He studies Potter rubbing his forehead in the Great Hall.
And wonders if the golden boy realizes,
If Dumbledore knows,
If anyone comprehends,
That there's probably a Horcrux inside Harry Potter.
His soulmate.
Blaise asks him what's wrong.
And he doesn't know how to answer.
Almost like everything around him has suddenly disappeared.
Like everything he thought he knew didn't stand anymore.
Like every moral decision,
Every act he ever made,
Every move in any direction,
Has only ever been a hoax.
Like the path he had followed had led him to a deadend.
A deadend he couldn't turn back from anymore.
He's only fifteen,
But the only future he sees is suddenly empty.
In that moment he hopes desperately that Potter will never discover what he now knows.
No one deserves to be aware of darkness like that inside of them.
No one needs that weight on themselves.
He looks at Blaise.
And escapes the hall.
Dashes through the corridors
Cold sweat running on his back.
Voldemort in the back of his mind through Potter's scar, like a swirl of black smoke.
He stops by the dungeons
In the boys loo no one uses.
And tries to breathe.
Tries to get some sense into himself before he goes crazy.
"WHY?" He whisper-shouts in the air, "Why me?"
And why of all the people in the world, it has to be him?
He could take the fact that he has a soulmate.
That he can't choose who he's with.
Even the fact that his soulmate is, by some twist of fate, a guy.
But not this!
Not this fucking twisted connection between Potter and the Dark Lord.
Not the fact that he was fated to someone who had two souls inside one body!
One whole and one fragment.
Only thinking about it made him want to heave!
"Theo?"
Blaise's by the door.
Glaring at him like he was worried.
"What's the matter?" The tone is serious.
More serious he's ever heard Blaise be.
They never shared secrets.
Never opened up.
It wasn't that kind of a friendship.
Blaise never asked.
"Nothing, I'm fine." He answers and his voice sounds chocked.
"The fuck you are."
But he leaves anyway.
He never asked.
And if he did,
he never pressed.
It goes in waves,
Worse and then better again.
He studies Potter in the hall,
Doubting the boy will never find out about the scars they share.
He'll die before.
Then there's a night,
A night worst yet.
So bad he thinks it's the last night he has a soulmate.
He sneaks down to sit in the common room.
But Pansy and Draco are there already.
Talking in hushed urgent voices.
He hides in the shadow and studies them.
Listens to them speak a word here and there.
But even when he realizes what's going on, he doesn't reveal himself.
Extremely rare.
The book said.
And yet here they are.
Draco and Pansy
And him.
With Gryffindor soulmates, doomed to die.
.
.
.
More than once he thinks he should tell Potter
About the horcrux
More than about the scars.
More than once he thinks he should tell Blaise.
About the scars
And soulmates.
But he does neither.
Lives the years in Hogwarts,
avoids his father
And the demands of taking the mark.
Looks at Draco getting worse and worse.
And thinks there might not be any soulmates for anyone left when the war is over.
In the summer between sixth and seventh year he finds a folded paper between the pages of his grandmother's old book.
A book hidden behind another in the library.
Soulmates and Trauma
And there's his answer.
The reason Potter, a boy, is his soulmate.
The explanation why it's not always about genes and lines.
Sometimes it's about healing,
And happiness.
A family.
Love,
It says.
Stronger than any magic.
Families,
To keep the magical world together by bonds of blood.
Or of souls.
Sometimes when the soulbond is infused with a serious trauma in early childhood it changes. Linking together two magical souls who need healing more than offspring.
Forming a family that can keep the wizarding world at peace.
Who can unite and recreate, more than just through children.
The meaning of these soulbonds is far deeper than just producing magical heirs.
It's not just to keep the magic alive, but to keep the whole society united.
He stares at the text.
Great, no pressure at all!
Under the text his nan has written: Harry Potter?
With a neat curvy script.
So she knew.
And she never told anyone.
Took the secret to the grave.
But she left him the answers he needed.
And she taught him to hide it.
To keep himself safe.
If father had known, he'd probably not sit here reading this now.
And he couldn't just ignore Potter forever.
.
.
.
It's the day of the Weasley wedding. He sits on the grass in the small hill, looking down at the crooked house they somehow think they're safe in.
Safe to have a fucking wedding in the verge of war.
Begging for trouble, if you ask him.
Potter comes up the hill glancing over his shoulder every now and then.
Theo stands up.
He'd sent an owl, asked him to meet him here.
Never thought he'd actually come.
The golden boy halts and gives him a questioning look.
"Fine Nott, I'm here. What's your deal?"
His demeanor is urgent. Like he's in a hurry and being here distracts him from more important things.
Which it probably does.
Theo thinks they've possibly never been this close to each other before.
But he knows Potter.
Knows his every scar.
Every bruise
Every permanent mark left on his skin.
Yet it's more than that.
He has had time. Has had hours.
Days
Weeks
Years...
No one pays him attention so he can pay attention as much as he likes.
He knows how Potter's face changes with his emotions.
Knows how he grits his jaw when he's irritated.
The flash of panic on his face when someone calls him for his celebrity.
The pure joy he feels on a broom.
The fierce fire in his emerald eyes when he stands up for what he believes is right.
How he sweeps his hand through his hair when he lies.
And rubs the scar on his forehead every now and then like an intuition.
Suddenly he's not confident why he wanted to confront Potter so much.
He wasn't even sure all the rumors were true.
What if nothing happened in the ministry tonight and they all went back to school and this was entirely unnecessary?
But what if not?
What if Potter needs the information he has to give? What if he had to face Voldemort tonight and didn't know what he was missing?
Potter dying was always a possibility, but it had never unnerved him so much before.
"There's something you should know?"
No use in holding the information any longer than necessary.
Potter lifts an eyebrow.
Like asking, 'why would I believe anything you have to say?'
"I know we haven't talked much,"
Potter snorts.
"And I know you think you have no reason to believe what I'm about to tell you,"
"Your father is a Death Eater right?" Potter interrupts him.
"Yes, but…"
"And you're friends with Malfoy?"
He rolls his eyes, "Yes, but…"
"Why would I even listen to you?"
Fucking stubborn Gryffindor ass.
"Well you're here." He waves his hands impatiently.
"Yes, because I was curious what kind of a trap was this… And how you'd know where to find me. But Nott listen, "
He tries to open his mouth to stop Potter but he goes on, "I have more important things than whatever you're planning. If this is a way to lure me into some ambush then I'm not buying it. I'm not coming back to school anymore so you and your Slytherin friends are free to do whatever you want. There's a war coming and…"
To stop His flow of words Theo shoves his hand in front of Potter.
"I an not a fucking Death Eater, " He shows his clean wrist, "Besides you'd know if I was."
He turns his hand around.
Revealing the faint "I must not tell lies." on the back of his hand.
Potter stares at the words and then flicks his own hand around. Probably to confirm how similar the text looks.
There's doubt in his eyes.
"How…" He whispers gazing at their identical marks, "that's…"
"Your handwriting, isn't it?"
Theo steps closer and rolls up his sleeve to show Potter the place where Basilisk fang jabbed his arm.
"The venom feels like it's burning you up from inside."
Then he lifts the other leg of his pants, to reveal the still deep cuts around his ankle.
Potter seems like he has stopped breathing, just staring at the marks paralyzed.
"You know what soul scars are Potter?" He whispers.
Wind blows through the field ruffling Potter's wild hair as doubtful eyes lift to meet his.
Theo leans a little closer and moves hair from his own forehead.
"That's… What are you playing?" Potter's voice shakes a little
"Ask Granger if you don't believe me."
"Soul sc...what the fuck Nott!?"
Color rises to Potter's cheeks.
"That's not all…"
But the other boy has already scrambled away from him, " Get the fuck away from me!"
"Wait Potter! This is important!"
You're a fucking Horcrux! But he can't just yell it out like that. So all he can do is watch Potter run.
Away from the truth, too scary to handle.
Fuckingfuckshit.
.
.
.
The seventh year is exactly as bad as he thought it would be.
Exactly as dark
Exactly as dangerous.
But it also brings the Slytherins together.
Stitches them together in a way he never thought possible.
He tells Blaise on the train ride.
In Hogwarts Express much more silent and dark as ever before.
In a hushed tone, scared that someone might be listening.
Shows his best friend the scars on his skin.
"I don't want anyone else to know." He says and Blaise nods.
And they don't talk about it further.
That's why Blaise is his best friend!
Not so many weeks into the catastrophe they now call schooling, Pansy arranges a secret meeting in one of the abandoned dungeons.
"We have to do something!" she says, "I'm not going to torture kids for fun! That's fucking sick!"
Somewhere along that evening they make a decision to refuse to pick a side. Somewhere in between whispered doubt and distrust into the ways of their parents they unite against the Darkness.
Somewhere in between the lines they make a vow to stay true to only for each other.
And then Pansy uncovers her secrets. Reveals to him and Blaise and Daphne and Draco that she has no choice. Her future is carved into her skin.
And at the same time she never had more choices than she has now.
Draco doesn't say a word about his soulmate.
So neither does Theo.
World as they know it ends that day.
The things they've been brought up to believe cease to exist.
Every lesson about legacy, purity, inheritance, magic
means nothing anymore.
The only victory is the one where they'll all be free to do whatever they want.
The only end they fight for will be the one where none of them will be judged for the deeds of their Death Eater parents.
Freedom.
They tell each other when it gets rough.
When the only thing they see is doubt and darkness.
A world where no one is judged by a label.
Sometimes he wants to laugh at the irony.
Pansy and Draco
the most biased prejudiced idiots the school has ever seen.
The ones to throw blood status in the conversation without blinking an eye, now want to get rid of the labels?!
And him and Blaise who always just stood on the sidelines.
He who never dared to say a word against his father.
Who never was brave enough to go to Dumbledore about fathers Death Eater business.
Who took the hits, like he deserved to have them.
Potter, like he promised, is gone.
With Weasley and Granger.
Occasionally he enters the dorm and finds Draco sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.
Looking even more lost than he was when Voldemort was pressuring in his back.
Truthfully he wants to do that too.
To break down.
To let himself collapse on the floor and scream.
Because he's so fucking utterly lost.
Everything feels heavy.
Doing any magic requires so much effort he sometimes fears he's losing it.
Some days only standing up straight feels like heroism.
The concern that Potter might feel like this too doesn't help much.
And he knows for certain that the dread he feels for losing his soulmate haunts Draco too.
After Easter Draco is gone.
No one knows where.
Disappeared?
Dead?
And Daph has left with her family.
They sit in the common room by the fire.
Him
Blaise
And Pansy.
The only ones left.
"I can't go home anymore." Pansy tells them.
Blaise shakes his head, "None of us can."
"Potter's my soulmate."
Pansy gasps.
Blaise doesn't even blink.
That's the final link.
The final lock linking them together.
And the last ultimate confession is out.
The thing he didn't want to let define him.
But that had defined him nevertheless.
Maybe because he was so young when he found out,
There was really never him without a soulmate.
Potter and his scars had always been a part of him
Part of his destiny.
Even when he thought there might never be anything between him and Potter.
For the last two years it had actually been more probable Potter was going to die before he even had time to think what it meant to really have a soulmate.
Pansy doesn't ask how
Or why
Or if he's sure.
"Does he know?"
"I'm not sure." he answers, "tried to tell him, but he bolted."
Blaise snorts, "Brave, my ass."
"A lot to take in…" The words come out before he's able to stop it.
There's no reason he should defend Potter.
He doesn't owe anything to the boy.
It's not like he will ever appreciate him for this.
It's not like defending him would make him accept their bond any better.
"We're fucked. Bigtime, all of us." Pansy states.
"Don't look at me!" Blaise protests, "I don't have a bizarre bond with a Gryffindor."
"Shut up Blaise. You're part of this like it or not."
She's right.
And Blaise must know it too.
.
.
.
The war washes over them like a thunderstorm.
Starts with a drizzle
Growing into a full-blown cyclone before they're able to run.
If they wanted to run.
They didn't.
For him it begins days before the actual fight.
With burn marks all over his body.
He sits on his poster bed, squeezing the sheets in his hands.
Drawing in breathe after breathe to keep the panic at bay.
What the fuck is he to do?
What the fuck is wanted of him!?
He doesn't get to process much further because the final battle rolls upon them like a rumble of thunder, boom after boom, closer and closer.
They fight.
Him and Blaise.
Beside Longbottom.
For freedom.
Or so he tells himself.
Only when they're already in the field the reality strikes him in the face.
They're fighting people they know.
People he has known since he was a kid.
Some of whom he almost liked.
They weren't death eaters then
just adults who could do magic!
But what if this is all his destiny?
To unite the wizarding world
Like the book said.
Unite and recreate…
Maybe they were never meant to do it together with Potter?
Maybe he should do it on his own…
Still, as the battle pauses and he sees Potter slip away from the hall
He turns to follow.
Tracks him down all the way to Headmaster's office.
Heart hammering in his chest.
As he enters Potter is already in the Pensieve.
So he sits to wait.
Thoughts bouncing here and there as he tries to figure what's going on.
What is he doing here?
And how is this going to end for any of them?
When what feels like hours,
But might have been just minutes,
Potter lifts his head and returns into here and now.
Their eyes meet.
His are glassy and dark.
Potter has a split above his eye but the blood has dried on Theos face.
And at that moment they might be sharing more than scars.
Like he can hear his desperate thoughts.
It's written all over him — the reason they call him the chosen one.
How can someone who is an absolute stranger, feel like an open book?
Potters shining eyes, filled with anguish, tell him his fears and doubts were never wrong.
He was always chasing after emptiness
A glamorous illusion that was never real in the first place.
The thought that something in his sorry existence was guided by destiny.
Something he could trust was right.
A decision he didn't have to make, because it was set for him.
A decision that couldn't be wrong
Or bad
Or regretful.
But no
Nothing made for him was ever meant to last.
"Nott…"
"You're a Horcrux," he states matter of factly to mask his own dread.
"How did you…"
"Tried to tell you last summer."
He's silent for a very long time.
"I know what the scars mean...I…" Potter stumbles with his words, "It would never have worked."
Theo raises his eyebrows. No?
"I mean I'm not… I wouldn't have…" he pauses.
You're not gay…? Theo wants to ask.
And then tell him that neither is he.
Truth be told he never even speculated about that.
Potter was his soulmate,
And he had known it since he was little.
Theo wasn't into men
Or women
He didn't have to be… Magic had seen to that.
"How long have you known… about the scars?"
Theo shrugs, "forever."
"I'm sorry." Harry says.
Harry…
His soulmate Harry,
Who is going to die today.
He shakes his head and echoes his words, "maybe it would never have worked anyway…"
"I was never meant to survive." His words are barely there, eyes now downcast, "Dumbledore knew and he…"
Theo takes a step closer.
Not sure what he's going to do
To say
"Life was never fair…"
"So many dead because of me…"
He lifts his hand on Harry's shoulder.
All his life he had speculated what it meant to be a soulmate to someone.
He was sure he had a pretty good idea how it felt.
But as his hand makes contact with him…
It's almost like an explosion from ground up.
The shift in the air
And the soar of magic in his every nerve.
Sizzling and pulsing like something alive inside of him.
Potters eyes snap to him.
He exhales
Slowly
Through his nose.
And drowns into the feeling of belonging.
For once in his life
He's sure.
Everything about Harry radiates that he feels it too.
Feels how their connection pours the power in him
How there was always something missing
Something he had no idea how to find.
There was never a future for them.
But there was this one final fateful moment.
So Theo tilts his head up,
Just slightly
Enough for Harry to understand.
And the other boy
The one who was born to die
The golden boy
The chosen one
Moves just an inch
But enough
Enough to meet him halfway.
It's timid at first
Rigid and uncertain
But just a split second
Enough to notice.
Theo moves his hand to his jaw
And his lips soften
Almost like melting with the last of his mental resistance.
Melting with the last of doubt.
They're soulbound
Made to be
No mistakes
And he feels it all in their kiss
Every brush of his fingers
Every caress of lips
And flick of tongue
Every puff of breath
Every beat of heart
He belongs here
With this boy…
This man...
This person,
Who belongs to him.
At the end of it Potter brushes his nose against his, "I'm sorry."
And then he's gone.
Gone with everything Theo ever was.
.
.
.
Harry Potter does not die that night.
But Voldemort does.
And
So
Many
Others
From both sides.
He and Blaise and Pansy have no homes anymore.
They gave up everything for the world that might be worth it.
By the end of it it's Longbottom who they should thank.
Longbottom, who shows them loyalty no one outside of their circle never showed.
Longbottom who holds Pansy's hand in front of the world
And declares there's nothing questionable about the side they're on.
That's how they find themselves residing in Potter's house.
"Just for the summer." Potter had offered, "Enough for you to get your life in order."
The house is fine.
Big enough for all of them.
And Blaise and Pansy are there too.
And Longbottom who ,he and Blase have reluctantly admitted, was a decent enough bloke.
But the rest of them…
Wesley never stopped eying them suspiciously.
And Potter… Potter avoids him efficiently.
A month into their stay and he hasn't exchanged one private word with Theo.
And then there's Weaslette.
Red flaming hair and wicked grin.
She's witty and funny and pretty.
She can hold a conversation
And even in all the sorrow following the war she can keep the light atmosphere up.
She holds Potter's hand under the table.
Pats his back gently when he sinks into the depths of dark thoughts.
Chases away his nightmares.
And fills Theos chest with bitter, gnawing envy.
There's another lightning-shaped scar above his heart now.
Just above where his pulse beats blood into his system.
When he lifts his hand to the scar he can almost feel Harry's beat there along with his.
But by daylight there's only jealousy.
Only the dark twisted will to break something when Potter kisses Ginny on the lips.
How can he pretend to be okay with it?
How can he not feel what he feels every time they're in the same room together!?
How can he ignore the pull between them?
How can he look at Neville and Pansy and not think of him!?
Because Theo surely can't.
That's his soulmate in someone else's arms!
His!
And Potter surely deserves to hear a piece of his mind!
If he fucking finds him alone!
It's impossible by daylight
So he sneaks downstairs at night.
Potter is sitting in the dark library.
Head in his hands.
Theo stands by the door for a long time,
Just looking at the boy… A man…
Who has endured so much.
When he finally steps into the room Potter snaps his head up.
"It's just me"
Potter huffs.
He sits in another armchair across from him.
"Can't sleep?"
Potter shakes his head, not looking at him.
"Can't she help?"
It's a slip of tongue.
He never wanted to reveal to anyone how much jealousy ruled him nowadays.
"I love her." Potter states immediately.
"I'm sure you do."
Silence falls upon them.
"Nott, I'm sorry I don't…"
"If you're going to tell me you're not into men, save your breath." he almost spits out.
"But I'm…"
"Magic doesn't care about gender, did you know that?" He hasn't noticed he moved, but somehow he's now on the edge of his chair, "Tell me Potter, can you honestly say your magic reacts to her like it reacts to me?"
Potter is struck silent.
"Can you state that she makes you feel half the power you feel when I'm in the room? Can you compare kissing her to the boil in your blood when your lips were on mine?"
"I thought I was going to die then!"
Blinded by rage, spiced with heated numbing green envy he lurches forward. Capturing Potter's lips with such force their teeth click together.
Taking a hold of the front of his shirt and yanking him closer.
The feeling is glorious.
All-consuming
And empowering.
This boy belongs to him!
He thought he'd lost that once already, he was not going to give in without a fight.
Potter gasps against his lips.
He separates them with one angry shove and is now standing above him.
Watching him try to calm his breathing.
"Tell me to stay away from you and I will." he hisses almost venomous, "Tell me you want nothing to do with me."
They stare at each other in the dark room.
Potters chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
He doesn't say it.
Doesn't answer his dare.
So Theo turns around, "Then live up to your fucking reputation and face the facts."
Only when he's out of the room does he let out a breath of relief.
.
.
.
It's Hogwarts Express yet again.
Eight year
New day
New dawn
New life
Blaise looks out of the window whistling merrily.
Pansy lies on the bench, legs up the wall, head on Longbottoms lap.
And Longbottom is reading yet another book with plants.
Theo looks at them and feels lighter than in years.
Of course that's the moment Potter knocks at their compartment door.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Theo shrugs
But follows him to an empty compartment across the corridor.
Potter looks rigid.
He raises an eyebrow.
"Have you heard about Hermione and Malfoy?"
Theo snorts, "You pulled me aside to talk about Granger and Draco?"
"No I…"
He has begun to suspect Potter isn't the smoothest person alive.
But he kind of likes to make the chosen one squirm.
"Meandginnybrokeup."
"Sorry, what? Didn't quite catch that?"
It's almost pathetic how his heart soars at Potters words.
Potter almost rolls his eyes, "I'm not with Ginny anymore, "
Giddy
Toe-curlingly exited
Is what he feels.
But he keeps his cool, "Oh, but you love her?"
"Don't…"
They're standing pretty close considering the topic at hand.
"It's not that simple…" Potter whispers, "I don't know how to…"
But he does.
He just doesn't know that yet.
Theo leans closer, "But you want to?"
Like in slow motion Harry nods, "I'm willing to find out."
"That's all I ever asked for, " Theo whispers into his ear.
Then rounds him, shoulder brushing his
And joins his friends.
Maybe for the first time this year wasn't going to be shitty.
Maybe they did something right after all.
He looks at the others and smiles secretly,
Maybe they were finally free.