IMPORTANT NOTICE: I PUT UP A POLL ON MY PROFILE ABOUT WHAT TITLE YOU GUYS WOULD LIKE BEST FOR A "THE PAST DOES NOT DEFINE US: HERMIONE EDITION"! PLEASE VOTE AND LET ME KNOW!
A/N: What's this?! An EARLY update!? Yeah, I couldn't contain myself by waiting to upload this one – I got super excited. My exams start tomorrow and after that I'll have two weeks off before class starts up again in September. Lots of time to write and hopefully I'll have another chapter out for you guys soon!
On a side note, has anyone heard of the game Helllblade: Senua's Sacrifice? It was just developed and released by Ninja Theory a couple weeks ago. It's a super cool concept, the story's AMAZING, and the dev team actually consulted people who, like Senua, suffer from mental illness, as well as other health care professionals, in order to make it as authentic as possible.
I could go on and on about Hellblade, but that's not the story you people are here for. It jogged my creative juices though, but I'm going to finish this story first and do a ton of research before I do anything with it (IF I get around to it).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Title: The Past Does Not Define Us
Rating: T
Pairing: Theodore Nott/Hermione Granger
Summary: "I'm sorry." Those two words shot like an arrow through his soul and Theodore found that there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling.
Warning(s): Mentions of child abuse and suicidal thoughts.
Chapter 13: The Idea
They're still giggling over Theodore making a fool of himself when he gets the idea.
It's a terrible idea. A terrible idea. A terrible and wonderful idea that makes him feel giddy inside never mind the fact that she already has a boyfriend – though the quality of said boyfriend is up in the air at this point, in Theodore's humble opinion – but it's bound to make her feel better. And that's really all that matters in the end he would do anything for her, anything at all, she just had to say the word.
The question was whether or not she would agree.
He hoped she would say yes; he glanced sideways at her, unable to keep a smile off his face.
What if she said no though?
Everything came rushing back.
What if she said no? He frowned, turning away from her.
What would he do then? What even was this, this companionship that they had? Were they friends? Who would even consider him their friend (someone not Slytherin; the others in his year, Draco and Blaise and Daphne and the rest, they were like him, broken and clutching at each other, desperately scrambling to keep themselves from drowning under the current of disappointment society and their parents cast them into – how could they not be friends after that sort of thing? No one from the other houses would understand, could understand)?
It was a terrible idea.
"Nott?"
A touch to his shoulder.
He flinched. His head jerked and her face came into view. Her hand remained frozen in the air between them.
Theodore flushed. He swallowed and looked away, back to that crack in the wall he noticed earlier.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize," she replied, "I shouldn't have startled you."
They stood in silence; him consumed by anxiety, her with pensive curiosity. Theodore felt a shiver creep up his spine, like the claws of a cat climbing up one's leg, sharp talons digging into flesh and inciting a special kind of agony that few ever had the pleasure of experiencing not as bad as the Dark Lord though, nothing could ever match him. He wondered what he looked like to her – the world was crumbling under his feet and she was the only thing keeping him grounded – was he calm and collected? Detached? Straight backed with head held high like his father had always wanted him to be? Somehow, he doubted ever, in his whole life, being that put together.
He hoped he wasn't a mess.
Then he remembered that he had run straight from Divination, finally managing to escape Luna Lovegood's seemingly all-seeing gaze, in order to get to the Owlery to send letters to Blaise and Draco he was fine, everything was fine, don't worry about me, you should just focus on your studies Draco, don't you want to become a healer? And Blaise, what about that beautiful Italian girl you were talking about in your last letter? Somehow, he had forgotten about the sweat dripping down his neck and the cold stickiness that made his clothes cling to his back, oh God, what kind of pureblood heir was he?
"What are you thinking about?"
Her voice cut straight through the noise and he mentally swore – she was right there, how could you get so caught up in yourself? You don't matter, she was the one crying not even a minute ago, you selfish bastard!
Theodore shrugged, giving her a smile that he hoped she wouldn't see through before turning away again you're fake, a liar, just as bad as your father, worse than your father.
"Nothing important."
The words came out forced there was no way she hadn't noticed.
She said nothing.
He tensed as she moved around to stand in front of him, reaching up he was so much taller than her to gently touch his chin with her hand. He allowed her to move him, turning his gaze to look down at her.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked again, words slow.
Those brown eyes.
He couldn't say no to those brown eyes.
Theodore's tongue felt like lead, his throat as dry as sand paper. A million thoughts went through his mind, but somehow, she brought everything into focus. The traitorous thought, the single idea that started the dissecting and debilitating inner monologue came to the forefront.
He couldn't hide that from her.
"I just got an idea," he confessed. She raised an eyebrow, silently urging him on.
"It's a terrible idea," he continued, "A terrible, terrifying, rotten, wonderful idea and I shouldn't have even thought of it in the first place. But you were upset, and I couldn't think of anything else, all I could think about was that you were crying and I needed to make everything better and then the idea hit me. And I thought it was brilliant, it would certainly make you feel better but then I thought what if you said no? What if you didn't want to go through with it? What if-?"
"Yes."
Theodore blinked, mouth clamping shut. Granger smiled, her cheeks reddening and eyes darting away before coming back to stare directly into his soul.
"Whatever your idea is, I'd love to hear it," she said. Her voice was soft, her eyes shone with honesty, and the hand on his chin fell, her hands clasping together as she looked up at him with curious anticipation.
Stunned, Theodore could only stare at her.