#longgbottom

draco was such a mama (and papa) boy, somehow still clinging to that kind of child-like fascination, of seeing your parents as idols, something pansy grew up too quickly from. blaise and his mother were genuinely close, in ways, it made pansy almost jealous. no one would actually believe it but, out of the four of them, blaise had the healthiest and most supportive family relationship, his mother adored him, and the adoration was mutual, and pansy, everyone; knew they would always take care of each other, fiercely, against all odds. truly slytherin family values. theo was, sadly, their most typical history, orphan, with a twat of a father who grew attached to a bottle of firewhiskey and who thought that beating the shit out of his son would solve all his problems, and somehow, still held an iron grip around him, establishing his authority by screams, hits and swings of magic.

pansy... pansy just didn't really care, and surprisingly (not really), neither did her family. she was an only child, her mother travelled constantly by sucking off the money her father earned, with some ministry title that was good enough to keep the reputation and name of a pureblood slytherin family up, and his father was just too busy, too married to his job to even entertain the idea of being any kind of positive parent figure. pansy didn't care, it was even for the better, the less the expectations, the less the disappointment.

so she grew up barely by herself: bitter, but carefree, with enough money to do all she wanted, without the need to give  any explanations, but with the burden of being truly unable to reach out properly, to create true bonds, to express her true feelings.

the midnight times in the common room, after homework, cuddled up in a shared couch, were the closest thing to belonging and family pansy felt. and she guessed that was enough.

that left her to be the person who was more available, not the only one but the most, during christmas time to make sure theo and his father were never alone in the same house for long periods of time. funny though, because during the first years of their friendship, theo and pansy weren't even that close. they were in the gravity of each other, impossible not to be when they were both close friends of draco, but somehow the bonding didn't happen in the same way it did with blaise.

pansy knew she was too abrasive for someone like theo, too direct, too blunt. she didn't have the same poise and elegance draco possessed, neither the same refinement and calmness blaise had. she was rawness and intensity, opened up in the air, exposed and ready. that was her only strength, but simultaneously, it was also her weakness.

with the time, it pleased her to see that, somehow, theo was raw as well, as much as she was, if not more. it was just, his rawness was different, he was less about intensity and gutted wrath, it was about sensitivity and restraint. they were like ice and fire, but instead of cancelling each other out, they started to complement each other.

so, when pansy was tired of draco's pettiness and blaise's judgemental skinny ass, she curled herself next to theo in his corner of the library, with a massive volume of astrology resting on her lap, while theo worked with endless diagrams for his arithmancy class. theo's quiet personality was calming, like a balm, and the older they got, the more pansy loved to enjoy it, to enjoy him.

when everyone dismissed pansy and her interest (professor trelawney called it her sight), theo always gave her his hands to read, or stood in front of her for minutes for her tarot readings. when theo's nightmares started to develop in night terrors and his dark circles started to reach his cheeks, pansy perfected a sleeping draught that promised him dreamless sleep nights. when pansy started to skip and not pay attention, theo went over with her through his potions notes.

like that, hanging out with theo became less awkward. pansy would spend hours at the nott manor, such a grey, and cold and horrible place, so icy and desolate it was impossible to think how someone like theodore nott, sweet, sensitive and caring theodore nott despite everything; could have grown up between all those walls. hiding with him when they heard steps coming closer, using the floo to disappear to her own empty but warmer, a little more welcoming manor, to make sure theo would come back to hogwarts unharmed.

years had passed since the promise, their tradition, of never leaving theo alone during christmas time. they grew up a lot in the meantime, theo's father started to spend less and less time at home, and at some point, less and less time even conscious, thanks to his addiction to firewishkey, and theo's back and arms, were more pale than black and blue. but somehow, the tradition remained there. they got all together to enjoy blaise's mother italian food, or got away to draco's home in the south of italy, and pansy, out of habit, would spend hours in theo's room.

it was the christmas break of their fifth year, and pansy was painting her eyes hunched over the small mirror of theo's wall. on his small table, there were books and pieces of parchments, and next to the only picture of theo's mother pansy had seen in the entire house, there were pictures of all of them together, memories, that made pansy smile with the corner of her lips.

theo's father was passed out on the couch in the mainroom bellow them, both pansy and theo knew he didn't need a babysitter anymore, but what it was someone something that started to happen as a mere necessity, as a mechanism of survival, ended up to the something they both of them liked, needed, but in a different sense.

the bond happened, and pansy grew attached to theo's shy eyes but sassy remarks, to the awkward but warm way he had of showing his affection and care, how he was gangly and clumsy, but how he was the quickest, and the smartest of them all. and theo became dependent of pansy's strength and larger than life personality, of her remarks of sex even if they made him blush, of the way she could outdrink their entire year, of how she was the shortest but her charm was the biggest.

they were just making time for a party daphne, and astoria, were throwing at their place and when when pansy was done painting her eyes, she had a muggle lighted cigarette between her lips (something that, surprisingly, theo started because it calmed his nerves and his anxiety, and he just expanded to the fourth of them, even if draco thought it gave you foul breath) and she sat in front of theo with crossed legs, theo smiled to himself, knowing what it meant, and he presented his hands to her.

they had done this million times, and theo truly believed there was nothing in his hands pansy could read, after all the years, as she traced her thumb carefully down his lines and dips. it made theo strangely emotional, looking down at her straight hair and velvet black dress, breathing in that perfume she loved to use, a mixture of vanilla and roasted tonka, sweet, so sweet, yet so pansy, it was a scent theo was going to remember all his life.

it was like time had never passed, like he was still this awkward afraid child, teary eyed with the company of pansy reading his hands resting on her lap, while they were hiding away in his room, when pansy was the only thing that truly made him feel safe, the only armour between safety and his father.

“pansy... merry christmas.” he whispered, almost low enough for being missed, moving his hands so his long, bony fingers were squeezing pansy's soft hands. there it was, theo's small, but warm ways to show affection, and when pansy looked at him, she was beaming but also a little starry eyed, maybe also drowning in the same kind of memories and feelings.