Luna nodded, knowing that it was the closest thing to an agreement she was ever going to get out of you. Despite your surliness, your friend seemed to brighten the minute she spotted Pansy. In a sea of blue and gold, the dark haired witch was the only one clad in green and silver. Your housemates kept exchanging wary glances at the Slytherin in their midst, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut. 

You watched quietly as Pansy and Luna exchanged pleasantries. While your friend was generally a bubbly person, she seemed extra giddy as she spoke. There was something about the way that she softened that convinced you to ease up on the scowls. It must have been contagious, because Pansy actually smiled and it wasn’t a derisive sneer or a smug smirk, but a genuine smile. You didn’t even know the witch was capable of it. 

Finally, she seemed to take stock of your presence. The dark haired girl jutted her chin out proudly, her aristocratic features schooled into forced neutrality. It occurred to you that Pansy probably received a similar warning to attempt decency. 

“Y/N,” she said. 

“Pansy,” you replied. 

The two of you eyed each other. Sizing up your opponent. The eagle versus the snake, claws against teeth. The staredown was purely psychological warfare. 

You squinted. Hurt her and I’ll maim you. 

The silent warning didn’t seem to offend Pansy. Instead, she gave a subtle nod of her chin and made way for you and Luna to sit. You settled in, trying not to peer down at the drop. Heights had never really been your thing. 

Pansy observed you curiously as Luna patted your arm. “Y/N’s not a big fan of heights.” 

“Oh?” Parkinson asked. 

“I generally prefer solid ground. It reduces the chances of me falling and breaking my neck.” The corner of Pansy’s mouth quirked. “What about you, Parkinson? Are you keen on flying?” 

“A bit.” 

Luna brightened. “She’s being modest. Pansy here is a very talented flyer. She’s got an Abraxan named Circe.”

“The most powerful witch to ever live,” you noted. “She used to turn men into swine.” 

“A lost art, really.” 

You smirked. “The classic femme fatale. A personification of the dangers of femininity. They always paint powerful women in a terrible light, don’t they?” 

“Perhaps it makes the men feel better about their own inadequacies.” 

“We’re always making men feel better about their inadequacies,” you answered thoughtfully. “Convenient that the myths fail to mention that Circe was one of the first pharmakis. Modern magic would not be what it is without her extensive knowledge of herbs and plants and yet she’s rarely credited in any potions books we read.”

Pansy nodded, eyeing you in amusement. “I can see why Nott has taken a liking to you.” 

You turned to Luna who immediately shook her head. Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Lovegood didn’t tell me a thing. She didn’t have to. Theodore never stops talking about you, you know.” 

There was no hiding the flush that crept up to your cheeks. “We’re both vying for the top spot in Slughorn’s class. I assume he has a lot to say about his competition.” 

“It’s more than that,” Pansy said. “I’ve known Theodore since birth and I’ve never seen him put this much effort into anything. He’s always been naturally talented at potions, given his mum’s background, but you challenge him. For the first time in a long time, he’s found someone who’s actually up to par. I, for one, enjoy watching you put him in his place.” 

You smiled. “I quite enjoy it too.” 

Luna looked at you, then at Pansy before a huge grin graced her lips. It was obvious that she was pleased at the sight of her best friend and her…potential more-than-friend getting along.

The game started not long after. Your comprehension of the rules were rudimentary at best, but Luna made sure to explain as best as she could. From what you gathered, there were four positions: seeker, beater, chaser, and keeper. The chasers attempted to score as many goals as they could by throwing the quaffle through the posts, which the keepers guarded. The beaters used the bludgers to disrupt the other players. The seeker, on the other hand, needed to catch the golden snitch. All while floating on a broom hundreds of feet in the air. 

This match, Pansy explained, had been anticipated to be the most brutal of the season. The enmity between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins translated very clearly on the field. While there had always been a divide of support between the other houses, you could tell that the majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands were cheering for the Gryffindors. 

You wondered how that made the Slytherins feel. Three houses against one. After the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic droned on and on about the importance of unity and reconciliation. Professor Slughorn even delivered a speech during your first potions class, but the disparity between words and actions were painfully obvious. 

The rest of the school still mistrusted the Slytherins. If any of them cared, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. Especially not as they played. The quidditch team was deadly. You watched as green and silver robes whizzed past, familiar names sprawled on the jerseys. Malfoy, Zabini, Riddle, Berkshire, Warrington, Rosier, and Nott. 

Theo winked as he flew past your portion of the stands. You rolled your eyes, but held your breath as he careened towards one of the goal posts. Ron Weasley stood guard, squinting suspiciously at Theo. The flash of the quaffle was too fast for your eyes to follow, but it sliced the air all the same, slipping through an opening above Ron’s shoulder. The redhead cursed as Theo gave him a mocking bow. 

Pansy was the lone witch in your section to cheer for the Slytherins. Luna joined her in solidarity when the crowd grew quiet. Suspicious glances were cast in your direction, which you rebuffed with a menacing glare. They all found something else to look at rather quickly. 

Displeasure rippled over the crowd as the Slytherins kept scoring. Theo was an unstoppable force. Warrington and Riddle flanked him at each side, throwing bludgers at anyone who attempted to thwart his efforts. The other two chasers, Berkshire and Zabini, circled around them in an aerial formation that confused the opposing team. The Gryffindors grew increasingly frustrated when Evangeline Rosier kept rebuffing their attempts to score. 

Both teams played well, but the Slytherins were ruthless, tactical, and efficient. They used the opposing team’s weaknesses against them. The Gryffindors tended to be over reactive and Theo used it to his advantage. He baited them into making rash plays, which left openings for him and the other chasers to exploit. 

By the end of the game, it was Berkshire who scored the winning goal. The discrepancy between the cheers and booing was insurmountable, but Pansy didn’t seem to care. She cheered for the team louder than anyone. As the win was formally announced, you heard murmurs coming from below you. 

“Stupid Death Eater bitch.” 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Pansy tense. Luna’s mouth hung agape as she wheeled around to identify the foul mouthed culprit. You were quicker. 

“What did you just say?” you asked in a deathly quiet voice.

The conversations around you stopped as you faced Romilda Vane. The smug faced witch crossed her arms, her scarlet and gold scarf billowing in the wind as she looked up at the three of you. 

“You heard me,” Romilda said in a haughty voice. “Her father was one of the Dark Lord’s staunchest supporters. As were the Malfoys and Notts. Not to mention Riddle. How he was allowed back at school is a mystery to me. They should all be in Azkaban.” 

Your ears began to ring. The crowd parted as you descended the bleachers, bringing you face to face with Romilda. “I wasn’t aware that you’d recently earned a place in the Wizengamot. For all your prattling, you’d think you were the Chief Warlock.” 

She cowered under your glare, but doubled down as she looked towards her friends. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherins should be punished for their crimes.” 

“I hardly think you’re speaking from any moral high ground, Romilda. Didn’t you try to dose Potter with Amortentia in sixth year?”

Romilda reddened as she sputtered nonsense. The students around you snickered, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your nails dug painfully into your palms. If you hadn’t, you might’ve punched that stupid smirk right off of her face. 

But you knew that physical violence was not the answer. There were far more strategic ways to land a blow and you were an expert in this type of warfare. 

“I suppose Harry’s lucky that your potion making is about as incompetent as your critical thinking skills. Now move before I make you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing getting tangled up with all those snakes. They’ll sink their teeth into your back the second you turn it.” 

“One of them is worth ten of you. At least the Slytherins fought to defend the castle instead of running off like a coward. They may have teeth, but at least they know how to use them. You’re all roar and no bite.” 

“You’re a bitch, Y/N.” 

You reared back, baring your teeth. “Oh you have no idea, Vane. But I’d be glad to demonstrate.” 

Romilda held her ground. For a split second, you weighed the consequences of harming a fellow student versus the satisfaction of pummeling Romilda to the ground. Luckily for the idiotic Gryffindor, Luna gently gripped you by the elbow. 

“It’s not worth it, Y/N.” 

You looked at your friend who wore an expression of concern. Beside her, Pansy didn’t say a word. She was utterly silent, almost resigned like she encountered this treatment on a daily basis. We all pay the price, Theo had said. 

Without another word, you nodded and bulldozed through Romilda as you exited the stands. It was only when the three of you reached the ground when you finally realized that you were shaking from anger. 

“Are you alright, Pans?” Luna asked, clasping Parkinson’s hand. 

Pansy shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, Luna. If I let the opinion of an airheaded twat affect my day, I’d never have a good one again.” 

“Are you sure—” Luna fretted. 

Pansy smiled gently and squeezed her hand in assurance. “Truly, I’m alright. The only thing upsetting me at the moment is that I’ve left my scarf up there running from those hags. Would you mind getting it for me, Lu?” 

Your friend still looked worried, but she nodded and made the trek back up. You and Pansy stood in silence, watching as the last of the crowd trickled out of the stands. 

“Vane had no right to say that,” you said. It came out harsher than you expected. 

“At least she had the gall to say it to my face,” Parkinson stated with a shrug. “I don’t know if that makes her brave or stupid.” 

“Gryffindors often have trouble making the distinction.” 

The dark haired witch laughed. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. As moronic as she is, Vane is right. She was only voicing the opinion of the masses."

“But you fought in the final battle. I saw you rallying the others against the Death Eaters. Romilda wasn’t even there. She didn’t even fight.”

Pansy sighed. “A lot of good that did. I had to watch my friends duel against their own parents and yet this entire school still mistrusts us. I suppose I can’t blame them. The majority of the Dark Lord’s followers were produced by our house.”

“Not all Slytherins are bad. The world isn’t so black and white,” you said adamantly. “Most of us operate in the gray areas, whether we admit it or not. The only difference is that you lot don’t try to hide it.” 

“Yes, but a snake is a snake. Even when we shed our skin, they still see deception when they look at us.” 

“And you’re willing to just accept that?” 

Parkinson gave you a pointed look. What choice did she have? What choice did any of them have? 

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat. “Are you sure you’re alright? Luna’s worried.” 

“I assure you, being villainized isn’t anything new to me. I suppose that’s why I named my horse after Circe," Pansy mused thoughtfully. "It’s better for them to believe that I’m some sort of evil sorceress than to realize that I am more shackled by my circumstances than I could ever be at Azkaban. My family name is a collar around my neck, waiting to choke me at any moment, but they’re so blinded by their own misconceptions that all they see are my teeth. I prefer it that way.”

“Oderint dum metuant.”

"Let them hate, as long as they fear." A faint smile bloomed on Pansy’s lips. "That’s awfully Slytherin of you to say. Are you sure you’re in the right house, Y/N?”

You chuckled. A beat of silence followed as understanding passed between you. Perhaps you had more in common with Pansy Parkinson than you thought. 

When Luna returned, the two of them tried to convince you to join them at the common room party, but you declined. You weren’t really in the mood to be around people. 

“You two go ahead. I’ll catch up later.” 

As the sun set over the school grounds, you found yourself at the Black Lake. Dusk tinged the horizon with pink and purple and the fluffy white clouds hung low enough to kiss the dark water. You settled at the end of the dock and dipped your toes into the lake, watching as the motion made ripples across the surface. Maybe it was unwise to linger here given that the lake was home to the merpeople and the giant squid, but they would be far in the depths and you were honestly too knackered to care. 

Sighing, you pulled out a silver flask from your robes. You had initially brought it for the after party, but it would’ve been a shame to let the firewhisky go to waste. 

“Illegal contraband?” A familiar voice teased just as the wood gave way beside you. Theo bumped his shoulder against yours as he sat. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well maybe your idiotic tendencies are rubbing off on me.” 

“I’d like to rub more than just my tendencies on you.” 

You rolled your eyes and handed him the flask. “Just fucking drink, Theodore.” 

He grinned before taking a swig. You chuckled at the face he made from the burn of the Ogden’s. “That is straight up liquor," Theo remarked through his coughing fit. "You're out of control, diavolina. Should I be concerned?”

“We’re celebrating,” you said. “At least you should be. That was quite a win out there. I didn’t expect you to be so….efficient.” 

“Careful, Y/N. That was almost a compliment.” 

You shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t been to a game in years. You could’ve been absolutely rubbish and I’d still think it was a feat that you managed to stay seated on that broom.” 

“Well, it is a pretty important component of quidditch. Did you at least attempt to enjoy yourself?” 

“It was a brutal game. There’s a lot more strategy and planning that goes into quidditch than I initially thought. It’s like chess, but you’re allowed to hit people. I had a blast.” 

Theo chuckled. “I should’ve known you’d get a kick out of all that violence.” 

Warmth spread through your body as you took another swig. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating your win at the party?” 

His fingers brushed yours as you handed the flask back to him. “I’m where I want to be.” 

This time, you weren’t sure if it was the firewhisky or Theo’s presence making you flush. The two of you kept drinking in silence as you peered up at the sky. Back home in London, you never would’ve been able to see the stars this clearly. They glittered in the night sky like tiny diamonds etched through the darkness. 

“I heard about what happened earlier,” Theo said after a moment. 

You weren’t surprised. Word traveled fast around this school. “Luna told you?” 

“No. Pansy did.” He shifted, turning over to look at you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you did too. “You did a good thing, Y/N. You stood up for Pansy. I can’t thank you enough.” 

“I was only doing what anyone else would’ve done.” 

“No. You weren’t.” Theo set the flask down. “No one else would’ve come to her defense. Pansy, she’s the strongest one out of all of us. Malfoy, Mattheo, and I, we can always resort to punches when we’re insulted, but Pansy doesn’t have that option. She just has to sit there and take it. It means a lot that someone spoke up for her.”

“I did the bare minimum.”

“It still meant a lot.” 

“There’s no need to thank me for—”

Theo sighed in exasperation. “For Salazar’s sake, will you just take my gratitude without arguing?”

You bit back a smile. “Fine. I acknowledge your gratitude.” 

You downed the rest of the flask as Theo lit a cigarette. The flame from that curious Zippo flickered in the darkness as smoke filled the air.

“So,” Theo started, taking a deep inhale. “Are you ready for the slug club dinner next week? I’m not even invited to the bloody thing and yet I still know every detail thanks to McLaggen’s incessant prattling. What a twat.” 

“Cormac is kind of a twat, isn’t he?” you asked, giggling as the alcohol started taking its effect. “I heard that he kisses like a fork tongued lizard.” 

Theo’s eyes flashed. “You better not know that firsthand.” 

You wrinkled your nose. “I wouldn’t go near McLaggen’s mouth with a ten foot broom.” 

“Good. I can rest easy that you won’t be replacing me with a reptilian snogger.”

“You can rest easy either way. I’m not going to that dinner.” 

Theo paused, the cigarette hanging haphazardly from between his lips. “What do you mean you’re not going?” 

“It’s a pretty straightforward sentence, Nott. I will not be attending Professor Slughorn’s ridiculous dinner.” 

“You have to go,” he declared firmly. 

“I’m confused. Do you want me to snog the lizard or not?” 

Theo frowned. “Do not snog McLaggen unless you want me to turn him into an actual reptile.” He exhaled and smoke curled around his lips. “You can’t miss that dinner.”

“I have no interest in attending.” 

He stared at you, his gaze fixed with determination. “Is this about what Slughorn said the other day?” 

You picked at your fingers, avoiding his eyes. “It’s probably going to be boring, anyways. Just a pissing contest for us to compare our grades and achievements like we’re puppets on a string.” 

“You should still go.” 

“Why?” you asked, a bit irritated that Theo was pushing for this so hard. You would’ve thought that he of all people would understand your choice. “Why would I subject myself to be part of something that judges people based on prejudice rather than merit?”

Theo’s expression softened. “Because it’ll raise your chances of joining the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. That’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You reeled back in surprise. “How do you know about that?” 

He rolled his eyes. “You only talk about it a thousand times a day.” Theo raised his brow in challenge. “Slughorn’s one of the most influential members. If you go to the dinner, it might solidify a formal invitation.” 

Theo was right. You didn’t want him to be, but he was right. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve sabotaged and plotted and schemed for a way in. This was an opportunity to distinguish yourself from your fellow classmates, so why were you hesitating?

You knew why. You were looking right at him.

“I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” Theo declared. 

You sighed. There was no way he was going to let this go. “Fine, I’ll think about it.” 

Theo smiled triumphantly. You kicked at the water, sending a wave across the still lake. “You know, if Slughorn knew that you were a Marchesi, he’d probably fall all over himself to recruit you. Hell, anyone would. You’re practically guaranteed a place at the Society, too.”

Theo shrugged nonchalantly. “Where would the fun be in that?” 

“I’m serious, Nott. It could open up doors for you.”

He sighed. “That’s exactly why I’ve kept the knowledge to myself. I’m tired of everyone judging me based on my family, good or bad. I want to accomplish something that’s solely mine. Not Nott, not Marchesi. Just Theo.”

“That’s uncharacteristically noble of you.”

“I told you, I’m not just a pretty face. I’m also rich, witty, intelligent, athletic, etc. Honestly, the list goes on and on.”

You snorted. “Just don’t expect humble to be part of that little myriad, Theo.”

Theo paused. The moment of silence swelled between you like an errant wave. Then, a huge smile broke out on his face. 

“What?” you asked. 

“You called me Theo.”

“Well, that is your name. Has quidditch concussed you so severely that you’ve forgotten?

He responded with an eye roll. “I’m perfectly lucid, thank you very much. Well, besides the firewhisky. I’m a little bit sloshed from that, but not sloshed enough to not notice you call me by my actual name. Not Theodore, not Nott, not twat, not oh god—”

“I get it, Theo.”

His grin grew wider. “There it is again. Theo.”

“It’s just a name, nothing special.”

“It is when you’re the one saying it.” 

“Oh, shut up.”

The satisfied smirk on his face refused to budge even as the sky grew darker. The two of you sprawled out on the dock, staring up at the sky and enjoying the comfortable silence. Theo toyed with his lighter, rubbing his thumb over the spark wheel, which caused the flame to flicker on and off.

You stared at the lighter, vision blurring from the alcohol. “Why do you have that thing?”

“I told you, Mattheo’s a little thief.” 

“No, I mean I know the reason. But I just can’t figure out why.” 

Theo scrunched his brows in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one concussed?” 

“Would a concussed person be able to do this?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and slightly flipped to the side. The action made your hair come loose. 

“What in Merlin’s name am I supposed to be looking at right now?” 

“I’m obviously doing a cartwheel,” you deadpanned. “Aren’t I?” 

Theo chuckled. “You are one drunk witch, Y/N.” 

“M’not drunk.” He raised a brow. “Fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit bevved, but you’re the one avoiding my question.”

“Sorry,” Theo said rather unapologetically. “I’m a bit distracted at the moment.” 

“By what?” 

“Your hair,” he murmured softly. Theo reached out and toyed with a loose strand, twisting a long lock between his fingers. He swallowed thickly, his voice lower and huskier than it was a minute ago. “You should wear it down more often.” 

“It’s a hassle.” 

He swept it over your shoulder, knuckles brushing your cheek. “It’s beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warmed. Whether from the alcohol or his touch, you couldn’t differentiate. “Stop deflecting, Nott.” 

Theo rolled his eyes. “Relentless witch. Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here?” 

You gave him a pointed look. Theo sighed before handing over his lighter. Up close, you could see that the silver was worn and dented. It looked much older than you initially thought. To your surprise, Theo silently waved his wand and the lighter transformed into a heart shaped locket. 

“When my nonna gave me the grimoire, it came with this. It was Alessandra’s old locket. She treasured it more than the grimoire itself.” 

“What’s so special about it?” 

“Open it.” 

Your fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t get shy now, diavolina. You wanted to know and now I’m telling you.” 

You hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the best of you. The locket popped open easily. Inside was a picture of a dark haired woman standing next to a man with watercolor eyes and thick brown curls. The couple looked at each other with love and adoration in their eyes. 

“That’s Alessandra, obviously. The man was Damiano, her closest friend, the mad scientist of the village, and the cleverest muggle she’d ever met. He helped author the grimoire.” 

“I never knew that Alessandra had help with her inventions.” 

Theo nodded. “As my family intended. They didn’t approve of her relationship with Damiano, but she didn’t care. They fell madly in love and eventually married.” 

“How is it possible that no one knew about him?”

“Damiano was born with a unique illness that was incurable even with magic. Alessandra poured years of her life into finding a cure, but in the end he succumbed to it. She passed away only a year after him. My nonna said that she died of a broken heart.” Theo took the chain and traced his fingers over the picture. “They left behind two young children who were eventually raised by Alessandra’s parents. Their son and daughter grew up not knowing who their father was. The Marchesis did everything in their power to keep the knowledge to themselves. They didn’t want anyone to know that their great bloodline was tainted by a muggle.” 

Theo bowed his head in shame. He avoided your gaze, choosing to look out at the Black Lake instead. “There it is. The secret that my family has guarded for centuries. The sad part is that some of them still hold those bigoted beliefs, so when people assume the worst of me, I can’t blame them. The Marchesis, the Notts, either way you look at it, there’s bad blood coursing through my veins.” 

“That’s not true, Theo,” you said softly. “You know I don’t think that of you, right?” 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Everyone else does.” 

“Well, I don’t,” you said firmly. “You said it earlier. Family isn’t all that a person amounts to. When I look at you, I don’t see a Nott or a Marchesi. I just see Theo.” 

“I don’t deserve that,” he whispered. The saddest part was that you were sure he meant it. “My great great great grandmother fell in love with a muggle and how did my family repay her for it? They blotted him out of existence.” 

The starlight caressed his forlorn expression with its silver glow, painting a heartbreaking depiction of Theo that you had never seen before. It reminded you of that day in the potions lab when he was talking about his mother. There was such an openness and vulnerability in him then that was present now as well and you realized why he looked at you the way he did that day. 

Theo hadn’t been waiting for you to give him an out. He wanted—no, he needed a friend and you had been too scared to step up then, but you weren’t now. You could be that for him. You wanted to be that for him. A friend. 

Without second guessing yourself, you reached out in the space between you and grabbed hold of his hand. Theo stared at your intertwined fingers in surprise. 

“The love between Damiano and Alessandra lives on,” you said with a small smile. “In their children and their children’s children. In…you.” 

Those watercolor eyes, the very same ones that you had grown so familiar with shone with emotion. Unlike the day in the lab, Theo didn’t put up his mask of cockiness and arrogance and you realized with a start that you didn’t want him to. 

He smiled and squeezed your hand gently. “Yes, I suppose I inherited Damiano’s affinity for cruel, brilliant witches.”

"Affinity is putting it lightly," you said teasingly. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me, Nott."

You blinked as Theo hovered over you. The weight of his body pressed against yours ignited a flame of fiendfyre in your core. He dipped his head down, his curls tickling your nose. "No, not Nott. Not Theodore. Try that again, diavolina."

You wriggled underneath him, but Theo held your hips in place. He brushed his lips against yours and smirked when you tried to kiss him. His low rumble of laughter sent shivers down your spine. "Say it. Say my name again."

"If I say it, will you stop being a tease?"

Theo kissed your neck and laughed when you pouted in response. "Only one way to find out."

"I'll knee you in the crotch if you do that again, Theo."

He grinned. "There's a good girl," Theo said rather suggestively. You fought the urge to squirm at his words. He peppered kisses along your neck, your jaw, and your cheeks while you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. "For the record, I am obsessed with you, but I think you're a little bit obsessed with me too."

"You wish, Theo."

"You're going to be the death of me," he said huskily as he unbuttoned your cardigan. Theo's eyes were full of mischief as he dipped between your breasts, sucking on your flesh and leaving marks in his wake. "But I'm willing to die a happy man, Y/N."

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The last note rung out through the crowded room and the cheering was deafening. Your face was starting to hurt from smiling so much as you turned to your friends. They were already making themselves busy by packing up as you shimmied over to Harry, who had put down his bass to roll up the cord he had just unplugged from the amplifier.

“I told you this would be fun! You guys should really listen to me more often,” you quipped and poked Harry in his side. The boys had been against coming tonight. When Roger Davies had approached you between classes to ask if you would play at his party they had started laughing, sure it had to be a joke.

Your group had never been a fan of the guy, but you convinced them that it did not matter and that you should take any chance to get your music out there. And the practice could not hurt either, as the only gigs you had managed to score so far where your weekly performances at the Hogshead Diner and the one university event you got to play a few weeks ago.

They faced you with annoyed looks on their faces, but you could tell by the flush in their cheeks and the small smiles they tried to hide that you were right.

“Fancy giving us a hand or do you just want to watch us do all the work?” Harry shot back at you with a grin.

Somewhere in the room the stereo was turned back on, and people went right back to dancing as others escaped the stuffy room into the backyard. You swayed your hips to the music while you helped your friends carry your equipment outside.

Theodore Nott watched you joke around with your bandmates as they loaded up your equipment. He was sitting on the front steps of the huge house, a lit cigarette between his lips, listening to Mattheo and Draco complain.

“No chance. That girl is cold as ice I’m telling you,” Mattheo was telling Draco, shooting you a quick glance as well to make sure you did not overhear him. “Turned the charm up all the way but nothing worked.”

The two had decided to come up with a stupid bet and were now realizing just how dumb it was. The plan was that whoever got you to hook up with them tonight first would get a hundred bucks from the losers.

He had somehow gotten roped into their madness when Blaise, Enzo and Pansy abandoned him shortly after arriving, leaving him alone with the two dickheads.

Draco had just walked back over after you had given him the cold shoulder, scrambling away from you when Ron had glared at him over your head. He had sat back down next to Theo with his tail between his legs.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Theo rolled his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Just because you fools suddenly think she’s hot doesn’t mean she forgot what assholes you are.”

“You know, that reminds me. It’s your turn,” Mattheo grinned at Theo, nodding to where you were now walking back into the house by yourself, your friends still hanging out around Potter’s car.

Theo stubbed out his cigarette, rising to his feet. He should just get it over with, knowing the others would not leave him be otherwise. He also appreciated the chance to get away from them for a moment and having an excuse to talk to you.

He knew you probably hated him just as much as his friends. He was never actually mean to you, but he also never did much to stop them from hurtling comments your way. It rubbed him the wrong way how they changed their mind about you the moment you gained in popularity after starting your band. You did not get hot over the summer, you had always been beautiful.

Mattheo whistled after him as he pushed his way inside, wondering why so many people had decided to stand around the front door. He found you in the kitchen checking out the drinks.

“What are you having?” he asked as he sidled up next to you, grabbing a cup for himself.

You turned your face to see who was talking to you and groaned when you saw Theo looking down at you. “What do you want?”

“Who said I want something from you?”

“I know you guys are up to something. Malfoy and Riddle have been following me around all night, so what is it?” You fixed him with a glare, one hand going to your hip.

“Alright, I’m going to be straight with you. They’re trying to fuck you because they made some stupid bet,” he told you and started pouring some vodka into his cup, topping it off with soda. “That’s why they sent me in here. I’m supposed to be seducing you right now.”

“Well, you’re not doing a great job,” you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the table. “You can tell your goons that it’s not going to happen. And tell them their bet is fucking disgusting.”

The corner of his lip perked up at your cursing. He had never heard you talk like that before, but in all fairness, he mostly heard you speak in class. “Already told them they’re being stupid. But they never listen to me.”

He mentioned for your still empty cup, and you hesitantly pushed it over to him. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him make you a drink. “What are they betting on?”

“The winner gets 100 bucks from the losers.” He finished the drink, holding it out for you. “Here you go.”

“So, if you win you’ll get 200?” you asked him, a thoughtful expression on your face as you took a couple of sips.

His brows shot up in surprise. “Guess so. Why? I thought I wasn’t doing a great job at seducing you.”

“How about we let them think you won the bet, and you give me half of the money in return?” you suggested, cocking your head to the side as you studied his face.

“Let them think I won?” he sputtered, not expecting for you wanting to go along with anything.

“I’m not going to hook up with you, Nott. But I don’t care if people think I did. And a hundred bucks is a lot of money for some people, you might not be aware of that.” You finished your drink and threw your cup into the bin beneath the table. “So, do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal, trouble.” You grimaced at the nickname but chose to ignore it. You spotted Malfoy and Riddle watching the two of you from the living room and put your hand on Theo’s arm, taking a step closer to him.

“They’re watching right now. Want to go upstairs?”

Theo nodded, quickly grabbing a bottle from the table, and following behind you. He realized he probably looked like a puppy following you around as he hurried after you, but in that moment he did not care.

You found an empty bedroom, immediately kicking off your shoes and letting yourself fall onto the bed as Theo closed and locked the door behind him. He threw himself on the other side of the mattress, pushing himself back to sit against the headboard.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows when he offered you the bottle, opening it before taking a swig. You tried not to grimace at the taste of the rum running down your throat, giving him back the bottle.

“How long should we stay up here? You know, so your friends don’t get suspicious,” you joked, watching him drink with a small smirk on your face.

Theo chuckled when he realized what you were talking about, stretching out his legs to get comfortable. “Oh, we should definitely stay up here for a while if we want it to seem realistic. I’d say about two hours at least.

“That’s not what I heard,” you laughed, settling yourself against the headboard as well, pulling your legs underneath you as you grabbed for the bottle again.

“You’ve been asking about me?” he teased, nudging his elbow against yours. He looked down at his phone, pushing it back into his pockets when he saw several new texts from Mattheo and Draco.

“More like I was forced to overhear it,” you rolled your eyes, drinking some more of the rum, wincing less as you were getting used to the taste. “Tessa Creevey is seriously unable to whisper. I’m starting to think it’s a medical condition. Makes it hard to concentrate on the lecture when she’s constantly going on and on about you.”

“God don’t remind me about her. Gave me a headache with all her chattering, that one.”

You slapped his leg. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. No matter how annoying she is, the way you dropped her like that was still awful. She didn’t deserve that.”

“I didn’t just drop her out of nowhere. She was well aware I wasn’t into her like that. Wouldn’t have slept with her without telling her,” he tried to defend himself, unsure why your opinion about him suddenly mattered to him.

You just hummed in response, not eager to keep talking about the subject. “You were still an asshole about it, though.”

“Okay, let’s talk about something else,” he decided, taking back the bottle after you took a particularly long swig. “How about 20 questions? I’ll start with something tame. Let’s see.”

You watched him drink some more as well, sliding down into more of a lying position, turning on your side to face him. You noticed that the alcohol had brought some colour to his cheeks, sure that yours had to be looking the same by now.

“What’s your favourite colour?” he finally asked you, turning to face you better as well.

“That’s a boring question,” you snorted, not even caring about the unattractive sound that just came out of you. “Think of a better question.”

“Okay. Out of my friends, who do you hate the least?” he questioned, studying your face as you thought about your answer.

“That’s an easy one. Pansy.”

“What? Why Pansy?” He was not expecting you to say it was him, but maybe he had hoped for it a little bit. He thought you would have gone for Blaise or Enzo if he was being honest.

“I mean she’s a bitch, but she tells you how it is. She’s honest. I respect that. She’s also easily the best looking one in your group,” you explained, laughing at his offended expression. “But you’re cheating. It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Give me your best, trouble,” he grinned, leaning his head on his hand.

It took you a moment to come up with a question. “Have you ever had the hots for any of your friends’ parents?”

“Definitely,” he told you and then leaned closer to fake whisper into your ear, as if anyone else was listening. “Have you seen Enzo’s mom? Mrs. Berkshire can get it any day.”

You could not help the giggle that escaped you as you agreed. “I can’t say you’re wrong. That’s one gorgeous woman.”

“My turn again,” he leaned back again so he could look at you, taking a moment to rake his eyes over your face as he pretended to think of a question. Your eyes were glistening, mouth turned up in a little smirk, your lips still slightly wet from the sip of rum you had just taken. “Who was the best sex you’ve had so far?”

“I’m not telling you that,” you said, pulling back from him a little, the smirk on your face being replaced with a frown.

Theo internally cursed for him for making you uncomfortable. More or less surprisingly, he was really enjoying your company and he did not want to mess it up by being a dick. It had not seemed as if you were hesitant to talk about something like this, but maybe he had read you wrong. “You can just say if you haven’t done it yet. You know that’s nothing to be ashamed about,” he assumed that was the reason for the switch in your demeanour.

“That’s not it. I’ve had sex before and I know I don’t have to be ashamed about anything,” you felt your face heat up as the words tumbled out of your mouth. Your head felt hazy and apparently you had lost your filter, because the words kept coming before you could stop yourself. “It’s just that I’ve only done it with one guy, and I didn’t really like it. I don’t really want to say he was the best.”

This caught Theo’s interest and he sat up a little, basically hovering over you at that point, not even noticing you holding out the bottle to him, offering him the last sip of the rum. “So he never got you off?”

You watched his brows furrow and decided to finish the bottle yourself, setting it down on the floor next to the bed and laying back down on your back, not looking at him. “It’s not his fault I couldn’t get there. I guess there’s just something with me.”

The moments the words left your mouth the embarrassment rushed over you, and you covered your burning face with your hands. Even though it was something you had thought about a lot, you had never planned to actually say it out loud and certainly not to Theodore fucking Nott. You should have really paced yourself with that alcohol.

“That’s bullshit,” Theo growled, gently pulling your hands down from your face. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Did he even try? Go down on you or something?”

You hesitantly shook your head, concentrating on the warmth of his hand on yours. “It’s not your fault. He’s just a dick,” Theo told you, the muscles in his jaw tense. “Who was it?”

You tried to shake off your embarrassment, pulling back your hands as you rolled your eyes. “What are you, a spy? Usually guys try to get me drunk to get into my pants and not to find out information about who’s been in my pants.”

Theo relaxed a little now that the amused tone in your voice was back. “Sorry, you don’t have to keep talking about it. But I am wondering, you and that guy, are you still a thing?”

You let out a humourless laugh at that. “Nope. He dumped me on my birthday last month.”

“Well he’s a dumbass for dumping you. But he didn’t deserve you,” Theo told you, the soft tone of his voice unfamiliar to you. You were surprised by the way your stomach fluttered and that’s when you realized how close his face has gotten to yours. For a moment you both held each other’s gaze. You were not sure who was first, but you slowly started leaning in closer.

Just as his breath touched your lips your phone started going off. You jumped away from each other at the loud noise. Turning around to get your phone from where you had put it on the bedside table you quickly declined the incoming call, checking to find lots of new messages from your friends, concerned about where you had gone.

“Sorry, my friends are looking for me. We should probably head back. Do you think it’s been long enough?”

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he sounded distracted as his hand raked through his hair. He went to unlock the door, letting you walk out first as he followed you back down the stairs.

The moment Mattheo spotted the two of you the idiot started whistling again. You quickly squeezed Theo’s hand one last time before leaving him to join your friends where they were already waiting to corner you with questions.

Draco and Mattheo clapped him on his back with proud looks on their faces while Pansy was calling out how childish they were acting, but Theo didn’t hear any of what they were saying, still wishing that call would have come just a minute later.

●・○・●・○・●

Sitting down in your usual seat in the lecture hall, you pulled out your laptop, trying to avoid looking at the professor at the front of the room. Normally, the girl sitting next to you would already be chattering about her weekend, distracting you until class started. But she seemed to be late today.

Pulling up the notes from last week, you made yourself busy skipping through them to prepare for the lesson. When someone finally sat down in the seat to your right, you looked up, not expecting to find Theodore Nott grinning at you.

“Hi?” you greeted him with a questioning look on your face. “Didn’t know you were in this course.”

“I usually skip this one. But I thought I’d keep you company today,” he told you, not even bothering to unpack his things. “So, how was the rest of your weekend?”

You shrugged your shoulders, leaning your body slightly closer to him so you would not have to speak as loudly. “Pretty much spent all of Sunday in bed. You really filled me up, Nott.”

“Same here,” he laughed. Then he pulled out his wallet, pushing some money your way. “Before I forget. That’s your cut. They definitely believed it.”

Pocketing the money before anyone could see, you did not even check if he gave you the promised amount. “My friends did too. They didn’t talk about anything else for the rest of the night. Ron thought you drugged me or something.”

Theo grimaced at that. “I’m starting to get really uncomfortable with the reputation I seem to have.”

“Don’t worry. I told them I came on to you actually,” you said and nudged him to make him look up again. “What did you tell your friends, by the way?”

“Nothing. I don’t kiss and tell.” He watched as your cheeks flushed a light red at the mention of kissing, the corner of his lip turning up. “Speaking of. Do you want to talk about us almost kissing or do you want me to pretend I don’t remember it?”

“Oh yeah. That almost happened,” you spluttered, your blush intensifying, now reaching up to your ears. “We were both drunk, so I think we should just forget about it. Don’t want it to make things weird between us.”

You did not like the grin Theo was throwing at you, lowering your head to make your hair fall over your face. “You just turned three different shades of red in under a minute. That’s impressive.”

Choosing to ignore his comment, you kept looking down at your laptop. “Come on, don’t start hiding that pretty face from me now,” he chuckled, hand coming up to your chin to turn your head.

“Stop flirting with me,” you huffed, meeting his eyes.

 “Sorry trouble, I can’t. Watching you get flustered is going to be the highlight of my day now.”

There was a glint in his eyes, but you were not able to figure out what was going on in that head of his. “By the way,” you quickly decided to switch the subject, pushing his hand away from your face. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but we’re playing at the Hogshead tonight. And milkshakes are half off during our sets.”

The professor clearing his throat interrupted whatever Theo was going to say. Mr. Bowen met your eyes with a glare, and you slumped down in your seat, shutting your mouth. The man held your gaze for another moment, causing your stomach to turn, before he started his lecture.

●・○・●・○・●

The grin had not left your face since you had gotten up on the small stage with your friends. The diner was mostly filled with high schoolers, many of them you recognized from the weeks before. Hector, the owner of the diner, had been really happy with the amount of regular customers your weekly performances every Monday night had been bringing in. He told you he was thinking about letting you play another night as well soon.

Your smile had gotten even wider when you spotted Theo enter with his friends in tow and you wondered if it was you that made him decide to come or the promise of cheap milkshakes.

“Thanks for coming tonight, guys! It looks like we have time for one more song,” you talked into your microphone, still slightly out of breath from your cover of Sucker. “This is our newest song ‘love is embarrassing’!”

Ron started you off on the drums, quickly being followed by Harry on bass and Ginny on the guitar before you jumped into the first verse. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Enzo pull Pansy up to join the teenagers jumping around in front of the stage, their friends cheering them on from their booth.

After the last note rung out you thanked everyone for coming out one more time before turning to face your bandmates. Quickly high-fiving the boys, you pulled Ginny of the stage and walked to your bag. The smile left your face when you checked your phone.

“Can you tell the guys I’ll be back in a minute to help pack up?” you asked Ginny. “I’ve got to take care of something really quick.”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

You told her you were fine and that you would hurry, making your way out of the diner. You spotted his car right away. Trying to stomp down your nerves you climbed into the passenger seat, keeping your eyes on the windshield, refusing to meet the eyes of your professor. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what you think you were doing in class today,” he growled at you, his grip tight on the steering wheel.

You crossed your arms to cover up the way your hands where shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Throwing yourself at that boy like that right in front of me? What, are you trying to make me jealous or something?” Grady scowled at you, finally making you look up at him when he placed his hand on your thigh.

“I didn’t throw myself at anyone! And even if I did it’s none of your business anymore,” you shot back at him, your eyes flashing angrily. “You broke up with me, remember? You made it perfectly clear you don’t want me. You don’t get to be jealous now.”

Grady’s eyes darkened as his grip on your leg tightened, before his hand went to the back of your neck, rushing forward to push his mouth onto yours.

For a second you found yourself kissing him back before you realized what was happening. Disgusted by yourself, you pushed him away from you roughly. “You don’t get to do this anymore, Grady. We’re done. You need to leave me alone.”

Not waiting for his response, you flung the door open and jumped out of the car. Tears collected in the corner of your eyes, but you pushed them down, stomping back towards the diner.

You froze when you saw Theo leaning against one of the windows next to the door, eyes wide and a unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he stared at you. Quickly pushing past him you stormed back inside to go help your friends, ignoring Theo calling after you.

●・○・●・○・●

Molly shooed you away the moment you grabbed the kitchen towel to help her with the dishes. Dinner at the Weasley’s had, as always, been wonderful. And as usual, the woman gave you no chance to repay her for regularly feeding you. Without her, Harry and you would probably be living off of instant ramen and bread. Ron and Ginny were truly lucky to be able to live with their amazing family while going to university.

Letting out a sigh, you plopped yourself down next to Ron in the living room. He tapped your knee to get your attention, his eyes not leaving the TV as he talked. “Nott came by the shop today. Asked for your number.”

You hummed in response, eyes fixed on the screen without actually seeing what was happening. It did not come as a surprise to you that he was trying to talk to you, but you would not expect that he would go to your friends. After he saw you leave Grady’s car last night, you did not fancy having to explain yourself to him, even skipping your creative writing lecture to avoid running into him. He had tried to message you through Instagram as well, but you ignored him.

“I didn’t give it to him, though,” Ron went on. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, dropping it on your lap. “I’m supposed to give this to you.”

Looking down at the numbers messily scrawled onto the paper, you wondered why your fingers itched to type it into your phone. You could not lie though, you were curious what he had to say about the situation. He had surprised you at the party last weekend. Sure, you were embarrassed for pretty much the whole time you talked to him, but the things he told you did make your heart feel a little bit lighter.

“I don’t think you should call him. I don’t trust him.” Ron was now looking at you and the way your fingers were fiddling with the paper as you were gnawing on your bottom lip. “You’re going to call him, aren’t you?”

Maybe you should. The liked the feeling of having him on your side, the way he had gotten angry on your behalf. And since that night Grady broke things off with you, you had been itching to talk to someone about it. But for some reason you could not get yourself to tell any of your friends about it.

And contrary to popular belief, Theo did not seem like a judgemental person to you. At least you did not feel like he had been judging you for anything you said that night. You could not keep avoiding him forever anyways. You had to go back to class at some point.

Ron did not need to hear your answer. After spending almost every minute of your free time together for the entirety of your first year at university, the boy was basically able to read you like an open book if you did not put your guard up.

“When will you finally start listening to me?" he let out a groan.

Already pushing yourself up onto your feet, you shot him a quick grin. "When you start saying smart things?"

Rushing up the stairs, you covered your ears as you passed Ginny’s room, not eager to hear what was probably happening in there. Ginny had dragged Harry up to her room the moment everybody was done with dinner.

Closing the door to Ron’s room behind you and settling yourself down on his bed, you pulled out your phone. You quickly put in his number and pressed the call button before you could talk yourself out of it again.

You only had to listen to the ringing tone twice before he picked up.

“Trouble? Is that you?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Theodore. Fucking. Nott. 

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far. 

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy. 

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.” 

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst. 

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” 

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!” 

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.” 

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso. 

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?” 

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.” 

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.” 

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.” 

You huffed. “That makes two of us.” 

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively. 

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?” 

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?” 

“He deserved it.” 

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?” 

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.” 

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?” 

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?” 

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.” 

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?” 

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury. 

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.” 

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.” 

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go. 

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick. 

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.” 

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.” 

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence. 

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you. 

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer. 

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.” 

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.” 

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?” 

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you. 

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!” 

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.” 

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.” 

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up. 

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…” 

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?” 

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control. 

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.” 

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.” 

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was. 

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?” 

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest. 

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once. 

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.” 

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up. 

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.” 

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.” 

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.” 

Because at least you were thinking of me. 

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved. 

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.” 

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?” 

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field. 

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on. 

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?” 

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin. 

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.” 

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?” 

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed. 

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive. 

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning. 

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night. 

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place. 

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way. 

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?” 

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died. 

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste. 

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth. 

“Need some help, love?” 

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. 

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat. 

Then he fucking moaned. 

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again. 

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.” 

“What are you saying, Theo?” 

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.” 

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.” 

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.” 

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future. 

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you. 

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?” 

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.” 

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?” 

“Everything about you turns me on.” 

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.” 

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.” 

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down. 

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.” 

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.” 

“I bet you are, darling.” 

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.” 

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off. 

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?” 

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?” 

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.” 

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.” 

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.” 

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.” 

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.” 

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.” 

“Yes ma'am.” 

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

“Hey, I’m YN.” 

The girl in front of me didn’t look impressed. Her brown eyes were coated in skepticism and subtle intrigue. Almost like she wanted to be friendly with me but she was wondering what it would cost her. I wondered how any person could go through life being so calculative. 

Eventually, the fight between her eyes and my outstretched hand ended and she shook it. Her grip was firm, like a quiet threat. Beside her, Belly smiled, as if she knows exactly what I was thinking. 

“I’m Taylor. Belly’s best friend.” 

The way she enunciated it made me curious about the number of times this poor girl has had to go into battle for friend’s affections. Maybe even once was one too many.

“Oh, yeah. Belly’s talked about you a lot over the years. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Taylor lit up. Her eyes took on a new light. She glanced between me and Belly, almost like she couldn’t believe what I was saying was the truth. Belly mouthed a ‘thank you’ to me and I smiled  to hide my smirk. I liked Taylor already, and I was glad Belly had her. When I was in Cousins for the summers, I always missed Ashlynn a great deal, despite knowing she wasn’t really missing me all that much. Her Instagram stories were added to everyday and yet, weeks go by before I received any messages from her. 

“You, too.” Taylor glanced around me and at the boys splashing each other in the pool at the Fisher house. Her eyes zeroed in on Steven. “Hey, Steven!” 

Steven ignored her and continued laughing with the guys. Taylor rolled her eyes but there was hurt in them that didn't go unseen by me. And then, in that moment, I decided I would like this girl for a reason as simple as seeing myself in her. 

Taylor, Belly, and I lounged around on pool chairs for a while, reading magazines. A little while later, Jeremiah came out of the pool, soaking wet, and laid down on top of me. I shrieked, swatting him with my J-14. 

“My magazine!” I yelled, trying to push him off. But he’d gotten a lot heavier in the last few months so he was not as easy to throw off anymore. He crowded my space and hugged himself to me, his face tumbling into the spot between my neck and shoulder. 

“Whatcha reading?” 

He had that pool smell on him and I hated it. But he also smelled like Jeremiah, and I didn’t hate that at all. Still, I pushed him again and he giggled. It sounded like wind chimes. 

“I’m trying to read my horoscope, Fisher. Leave me alone.” 

He wrinkled his nose. When he spoke, every word collapsed against my skin. “You believe in that shit?” 

“It’s not shit. It’s a science.” 

From beside me, Belly snorted. Her and Taylor shared a look that made my face heat up with embarrassment. I was supposed to be the older, knowledgeable, more straight-headed person in this trio. And yet, here I was with a kids’ magazine wondering what my horoscope had to say about my feelings for the boy situated on my lap. 

Jeremiah peered at me curiously, like he was trying to figure me out. “Belly used to read J-14 every day when she was twelve,” he said, words pointed at the girls though his eyes were on me. “Right, Bells? You wanted to know if you and Con were compatible.” This time, when the swat came flying in, from Belly, Jeremiah easily swerved away by falling off the other side of my chair. He looked up at me as Belly hastily glanced between us and Conrad who was too busy trying to dunk Steven in the water to notice. Her cheeks were the hue of roses, and Taylor was smirking. 

Jeremiah jumped to his feet and smiled at me. There were droplets on the edge of his curls, struggling to stay afloat. He winked at me, then dove back into the pool. He made a big splash, one that earned a shout of admiration from Steven. 

I crunched my magazine in my palm. From the other side of me, Taylor quipped, “Belly, does Jeremy have a girlfriend?” 

Belly laughed. “Jere? No way.” 

A satisfied hum escaped her lips. I crunched the magazine even tighter. “He’s cute,” she said, then readjusted herself on the pool chair. Her legs were long and lean and I knew that if my mother saw her, she’d ask Taylor what she eats in a day and then replicate it for my own diet. 

For the next few hours, Taylor did everything she could to be the center of Jeremiah’s attention. From changing into a pink tank top and short shorts, to unbraiding her hair and letting it fall down her shoulders and back. Every time she walked, it would sway and she’d smile knowing the guys were watching her. 

I could tell it bothered Belly. Especially when Conrad looked. Conrad never looked at anyone for very long, but he looked twice at Taylor. I wanted to remind her that Conrad was just a guy and guys couldn’t help themselves when girls were around. Besides, hadn’t Belly noticed all the looks he’d been giving her? 

But I stayed quiet because I was mad. I wanted to like Taylor, I really did, but she smiled at Jeremiah too much. And she made him laugh. And I wanted to be the bigger person but it was hard trying to act like it didn’t bother me when Jeremiah encouraged her by showing off. He gave her lop-sided smiles and smirked when she called him Jeremy. He always groaned when I called him that. 

On Taylor’s last night at the Fisher house, we had a bonfire, and she made us play a game. Truth or Dare. Her favourite, Belly told me. Taylor was infamous for suggesting it at all their school parties. 

Jeremiah didn’t hesitate to join in, choosing dare each time and making everyone hoot with laughter when he would do a hand-stand or jump in the pool with all his clothes on. But then, it got to the dare that changed everything. The dare which included me. 

“Jeremy,” Taylor prompted, eyes mischievous under the glow of the moon. “I dare you to kiss YN.” 

It was like blood stopped rushing to my brain. Like there was no oxygen. I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t understand anything. My skin turned hot, hotter than it had been all summer long, and I wanted to disappear into the night. I wanted an invisibility cloak like the one Harry Potter had. I wanted some kind of magical spell to take me someplace else. Anywhere but at this stupid bonfire with everyone staring at me. I was never one to shy away from being center stage, most times, I enjoyed it, just not when I was alone. Not when I didn’t ask for it. 

Jeremiah was sitting next to me, and our knees were touching. It was always like that with us. His knees on top of mine, almost like I was being protected. He turned his head to look at me. 

“It’s your first kiss,” he said, low enough so only I’d hear it. It was a secret I’d told him a week prior, when he was telling me about his first kiss with some girl at school and I told him I hadn’t been kissed at all. He said he assumed I had when I was at school. I didn’t have the courage to tell him I was waiting for him. But… but not like this. Not with everyone watching us like we were some kind of spectacle. Jeremiah tucked my hair behind my ear. “We’ll do whatever you want to do.”

“I want you to kiss me.” 

I didn’t know where that came from and by the sheer surprise on my best friend’s face, I could tell he didn’t either. That simple courage I lacked when it came to him rushing in at the strangest moment. 

He hesitated. Uncertainty lined his eyes and he licked his lips, twice. I lost my stare to it. “Are you… are you sure? I can just pick truth instead.” 

“No, you can’t,” Taylor cut in as she raised a brow at the two of us like we were being challenged. “Do the dare or else we’ll throw Jeremy in the pool again.” 

Jeremiah tugged the back of his shirt, ready to pull it off when I reached forward to grab his arm. His skin was hot, too. So hot that it nearly burned me. “Please,” I whispered, hating my small voice even as determination surged through my veins. “Kiss me. I… I want you… to.” It was that brief hesitation, that single pause in the galaxies, which ensured that I’d be tied to this boy, to Jeremiah Fisher, forever. And however long after that. Even if it was only a day. 

Jeremiah searched my eyes, in a way that told me he cared. Really cared. Not just ‘hey, you’re my friend and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable’ type of caring. He cared in a way that almost wasn’t like him. We were only sixteen, but we felt older then. He looked like a boy I could see in ten years, just as wholesome and sweet and loving. And I wanted that. I wanted to kiss him right then and I wanted to know him ten years, twenty years, years and years into the future. 

Out of all things, it was his hands which I wasn’t expecting. His motions were slow as he brought them up to my cheeks, as if he was giving all those seconds in between to change my mind. The Jeremiah I knew was never this careful. It frightened me a little. I was watching him come into himself right in front of me. 

But then his hands, his warm, warm, slightly sandy and abundantly soft hands curved over both sides of my face. He held me there, our friends all around us, and the fire blazing next to us. And it was like none of that even mattered. None of it came close to what we were about to do. 

His eyes held mine. He leaned in closer. I could taste his breath on my tongue: the marshmallows he shoved in his mouth an hour ago after he already had three s’mores, the sea, and just him, just Jeremiah. “It’s you and me, YN,” he whispered, like he knew. He knew better than I did all the things I was feeling. And then, he kissed me.

He isn’t expecting it, and neither am I, when a giggle bubbles up from my throat and projectile- vomits itself into the air between us. And then it hangs there, like a threat. 

Jeremiah frowns. His hands on my face loosen their grip. He starts pulling away from me. My mother’s warned me before, about boys and their fragile egos. It doesn’t take much to excite them, and even less to tear them down. “Boys are easy to understand,” she would say, “give them what they want and they’ll stay happy. But if you don’t, they will show you why you made the wrong choice.” She’d said that to me after one of her bigger fights with my father, so I wasn’t really sure how much truth that statement held. 

I meet Jeremiah’s eyes. The blue of them is darker now, and not just because of the night. “Sorry, sorry,” I chuckle, “that was mean. Do you wanna kiss, Jere-Bear? Come here.” I tell myself it’s alright to be a little selfish, that I can blame it on the alcohol tomorrow, that he only wants to kiss me because of the alcohol pumping through his system. I try to place my hand on the nape of his neck but he pulls himself away.

“You’re drunk,” he mumbles, and his voice has this faraway tone to it that I can’t decipher. Jeremiah is the life of the party, and yet, he’s standing in the middle of one right now and he’s not fully present. He stands to his feet. He doesn’t offer me his hand like he usually does. “I can’t believe you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, mumbles something under his breath, then starts walking away. I’m quick as I chase after him. 

I grab his wrist as he veers towards the group we were dancing with earlier. There’s a storm cloud above his head. “Fisher, come on–” 

“My name is Jeremiah.” 

He says it so solidly, with such finality that it almost scares me. His eyes are ablaze, like he’s really angry. The idea that I might have made him that way, when Jeremiah and me almost never get angry with each other, is rattling. I smoothen my tone and unleash my grip on his wrist. 

“I’m sorry… Jeremiah.” I lick my lips. All these years, I’ve avoided saying his name because it hurts. It hurts to know that I can’t whisper it in the middle of the night while we share kisses, that I can’t scream it as we lose ourselves to our feelings, that I can’t moan it outside my late night hours in the dark, under the blanket. “I-I wasn’t laughing at you. And I’m not drunk.” 

He takes a swig of his beer, though his eyes are steady on mine. “Maybe you should be. I am.” He cocks his head. His curls fall over his eyes, and he looks like a dream. “Why else would I want to kiss you?” 

The shock of his verity reverberates through my organs. It feels like I’m being stabbed everywhere, all at once. And then, a thousand punches from every which way land ferociously upon my pathetic soul. 

I swallow the hurt. I always swallow the hurt. “Right. So we’re both drunk. We’re at a party, right?” I tilt my head towards the group. “What else is there to do?”

He rolls his eyes and that seems to be the end of whatever feud we were having. He starts walking towards the group and one of the girls calls out to him. And I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate everything I’m feeling and everything I’m doing and I hate that my best friend and I are fighting. It isn’t like us. Jeremiah Fisher and I are supposed to be the ones who are always grounded; the ones who don’t have drama or beef or any sort of animosity between us. Because we’re best friends. We’re best friends who don’t fight or argue. We’re best friends who will always be best friends and I hate that, too. I might hate that the most. 

I bite my lip as I watch him go. His posture, usually very good, is poor as he stalks off. His shoulders are rigid, and there’s a darkness to him that makes him unlike himself. 

He gets two steps ahead of me before I allow pure adrenaline to make my next few choices. I run and grab his arm, forcing him around. Then we’re centimetres apart and I’m not thinking. I’m not thinking at all when I press my lips against his.

He’s startled, as much as I am, by my actions. But I don’t back away, I don’t let him go. I keep my lips pressed up against his and will him, with that tiny bit of pressure, to kiss me back. To want this the way I do. I’m not thinking but I know I want this. Even if just for tonight.

Jeremiah sets his hand on my waist, and pushes me down. Not off, but down. We’re still chest to chest, and our lips only break away a short distance. I bring my hand up to his mouth. 

“We’re drunk,” I mumble, holding onto the edge of his lips with my thumb. His eyes are everywhere and mine are frantic. He holds me tighter against him. I can feel his skin on my own even though we’re wearing clothes. I wish we weren’t. I lean into him again, and I brush my lips against his. “What are we going to remember tomorrow morning, right?” 

He sighs against my mouth, and it’s like he’s breathing life into me while I’m still alive. His eyes are golden. Not blue. He looks at me like he wants to tear me apart, right on this stretch of beach. “Don’t do this to me, YN,” he says, and every word sounds as though it fled a warzone to pass through his mouth. “I don’t want you like this.” 

I laugh. It’s bittersweet. That wanting. That delectable pain of wishing for something again and again and again. “Since when do you want me at all, Fisher?” I play with the back of his head, where his curls are thicker. I twirl my finger around one. 

His palms crush themselves against my wait. It’s almost painful, and yet, I don’t even flinch. “Since al–” 

“Jere! Jere! Jere, man! Come help me out!” 

We both turn to see Steven waving his arms in the air. He’s jumping so high, he looks like a cartoon. But when our gazes fall to what’s happening next to him, we understand why. Conrad and Jumper are throwing punches at each other, and throwing out curses like the’yre being paid to do it. 

“Fuck,” Jeremiah groans, immediately releasing me. He starts towards them but turns back to look at me once. “Don’t go anymore, okay? Just-just wait!” And then he’s running towards his brother. 

None of us even see it coming when Belly intervenes. One moment, she’s standing behind Jumper and the next, he’s elbowing her in the face. She goes falling to the ground and the boy she was with earlier rushes down to her. I run then, too, helping her up as Jeremiah tries to break up the fight. 

“Con, hey, hey, hey. Guys. Guys! Hey, break it up! Conrad!” 

Although all his shouts of his brother’s name go unnoticed because the older boy in the red sweater is now landing a punch square on Jumper’s face. He glances at us–at Belly–before he does it. 

“Cops!” Someone yells, and then it’s like mayhem. Something out of a movie as tens of bodies run across the sandy beach. 

“Hey, Belly, Belly,” I try to get her to look my way as she holds onto the other guy’s arm for support. Her cheek is already settling in with a bruise. Laurel is going to be so mad. “We have to get out of here, okay? Let’s go. We gotta go.” 

Jeremiah tugs on Conrad’s sleeve, Steven to his left, as they practically drag him down the beach. He’s so wasted that he’s still throwing insults at Jumper even though the douchebag is already gone. 

“This way, guys,” Jeremiah instructs, leading us to his car. He throws the back door open and practically shoves his Conrad inside. “Legs, legs,” he says, careful even when he’s seething with anger.

Jeremiah hates bullshit fights. I remember when we watched a movie once, up in his bedroom and a fight scene came on. He’d scoffed and said that fights like that were lame and guys only did it to show off how macho they were. He said he hated them. He and Conrad both did. Susannah had taught them how to walk away, not throw punches.

He looks at me from across the window. We don’t say anything as I settle Belly into the backseat. Conrad mumbles something then starts playing with her hair. The guy she was with just stares at us.

“Are you gonna be okay?” He asks her, and that’s when I take my time to properly look at him. 

He’s cute, really cute. And he looks so worried about Belly that I’m afraid Conrad might use his fist again. I think he almost does when Belly tells him she’ll see him again soon and he leans into the car to kiss her. I hold back a smile, pretending I didn’t see anything and slide into the passenger seat. Jeremiah slips into the driver’s set a moment later.