the world is ending, theo is going to be thrown into things he doesn't want to do, but blaise is ready to promise him he will be there no matter what. | thlaise | 1489 words | read in ao3
âwhy you don't understand.â theo breathed out, feeling as aggravated as his voice was giving away. âthat is the end of the world.â
and blaise blinked up at him, surprised, trying to soak into the words of the younger, because it didn't sound like theodore nott at all. theo who has lived through hell and back wasn't prone to dramatics, he was sensitive, wary of the world, he was cautious, but he wasn't someone quick to panic and dramatics, he was a plotter, he was a strategist.
but the theodore nott in front of him, all white knuckles and shivering limbs and watery eyes, wasn't being any of those things. he was terrified and he was freaking out, and the fact itself was such a novelty, blaise zabini didn't know what to do.
âcaroâŚâ he took a step closer, his voice effortlessly sultry, effortlessly inviting. and at any given situation, it would have helped to calm theo down, to send him memories of blood oranges and sweet wine in the beaches of the south of france, of promises sealed through kisses against patches of scarred pale skin, of confidence shared in whispers over piles and piles of ancient parchments.
but it wasn't working this time.
blaise wasn't able to push through the panic soaking every inch of theoâs body, to break the curse his lover seemed to be immersed in.
âdon't caro me!â theo hissed, and the first tear rolled down his cheek like a translucent pearl, leaving a trace in its aftermath, disappearing under his chin. âit's the truth. it's the fucking truth!â the rage in theoâs voice was so surprising, blaise was completely taken aback by it. it was like looking at him for the very first time, hearing him for the very first time. this is what war, what pain and fear, did to someone you cherished so deeply. âmy father is out of azkaban, i will have to take the dark mark, i will have to fight by voldemortâs side.â each word seemed to be followed by a bigger wave of panic, and by then, blaise didn't know how theoâs legs were holding him up. âe-everything is in shambles. e-everything is⌠and i-i will...â he finally reached a breaking point, a sob shaking his entire body, and blaise rushed to his side before he would collapse on the floor like a ragged doll.
he held him dearly, close, absorbing the sobs and the shudders of magic that came from his body, strong hands holding him up and making sure they were both as comfortable as they could be, even if kneeling on the floor, even if theo was doubled over himself with a posture that wasn't gracious or good for his back, as it wasn't the desperate wailing sounds tearing up his throat.
blaise allowed theo to cry out all his frustration, his fear and his panic. he let him unleash his demons, all the things he knew he was feeling but he didn't dare to say out loud because everything and everyone was a newfound enemy between four walls when a war was about to crash and burn everything built around them, no matter how much they might despise it. he didn't say anything, knowing there wasn't anything theo wanted to hear, and knowing that probably, there was no word of reassurance that could be sincere.
theo, in the end, was right.
it was the bloody end of the world.
at least, it was the end of the world as they have always lived in.
and the idea of their world shifting, being destroyed, even if to be rebuilt into something better, lighter, was unbelievable for blaise.
the consequences of it were unimaginable.
the idea of theo having to take sides of a war neither of them wanted, of having to be marked for a cause none of them believed in, was the worst case scenario, the worst and the most scary thing of their world ending.
it was the end of the world.
and they were just two poor sods caught in the middle of it.
if everything wasn't so tense, and so awfully sad, blaise would have laughed. but he couldn't.
because it was true it was the end of the world, and they were caught in the middle of it, but he could really love theo more than he did, in a world where it never was expected to happen, and that should be enough for tracing a plan, an escaping line.
and there wasn't a lot blaise couldn't offer, because theo was terrified and angry and sad and wrapped in an anxiety as big as all the magic he can keep inside his body, and blaise was fed up and melodramatic and unable to use as much resources as he wanted to use, but the two of them knew that all the things theo had listed, were final, as fixed as the sun going up every day in the sky.
it was the end of the world.
theoâs father was out of azkaban.
he was going to be forced to take the dark mark.
he was going to fight at the war by voldemortâs side.
but there was another thing as fixed as their destiny and it was that they couldn't love each other more than they did, and they were going to find each other, after the war, after the end of the fucking world.
âtheo, listen to me.â blaise started, calloused and rough fingers, skilled from flying, moved to wipe away the tears collecting underneath theoâs eyes, a smile perfect, still easy, reassuring. âi want to be with you, always.â he whispered, his voice firm. âeven if the world is ending, i will go back to you and find you in the new world. i promise, i bloody promise, theo. i vow to you, do you understand? i will vow .â
theo looked at him like he was talking in parseltongue, his mouth agape, as if he was trying to really understand what blaise was saying to him, what he was implying, because those were heavy words, not to be taking slightly, even at the doors of the world ending. but before he could say anything else, blaise started to speak again.
âdo you trust me? do you trust us enough?â and the heaviness of the question fell on theoâs chest like the weight of a tomb, but if the world was ending and he was going to die anyway, he would rather do it with a binding promise to blaise instead.
blaise smiled, and pressed his lips into theoâs chapped ones into a bruising kiss.
the hardest part about their promise was to find a bonder, someone who would help to cast the spell for them. draco laughed at them, calling them crazy, and telling them he wasn't going to shoulder the responsibility of such a stupid and rushed unbreakable vow. pansy refused as well, saying she wasn't going to sign a death sentence, whether or not they survived the actual war. daphne seemed horrified at the idea of them making an unbreakable vow, millicent snorted and warned them about not being hopelessly romantics and bloody idiots just because they were thrown into a war...
the bonder came from the place both of them were expecting the less, by the hand of astoria greengrass. she said she wasn't completely sure if this was the greatest of the ideas, but that she wasn't going to interfere into the desire of the two of them, if it was what the both truly wanted.
(âit should be so thrilling, shouldn't it?â she would whisper, giddy, over a cup of tea to theodore nott a few days before her agreement. âto have someone committing to you like that, words can't really describe it.â
and they didn't, so theo didn't say anything, he just felt the heat expanding through his body like a flame.)
a month before the battle of hogwarts theodore nott and blaise zabini made an unbreakable vow.
it was week after theodore nott was forced to take the dark mark, when he was ambushed and taken by surprise, held down by a hand belonging to a flint and another one by a malfoy and with a wand held by his father, his fate sealed when dark strokes covered scarred skin.
there was no ritual, no fancy dresses, no pompous agreements. there was a lot of silence, and a lot of tears, theoâs hand tugging the hem of his tunic, as to make sure the mark was never going to be exposed, that it was never going to see the light.
when they held each other forearms, theo could feel the warmth seeping through the luxurious and thick fabric of blaiseâs clothes, as rivulets of sparkly magic moved around them, sealing their future, as uncertain as it was, forever.
and the words exchanged were simple: âwe will never, ever, be apart.â
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theo loves blaise, and he knows it simply can't be. and pansy realises there's nothing she can say to make it right.
pansy&theo friendship ; thlaise | 1061 words | read in ao3
âi think i love blaise.â theo whispered, but his voice was so low pansy almost missed it, almost because she was more than used to theo's habit of communicating by mumbles.
a faint smile appeared on her face. of course she knew, everyone with eyes on their faces knew how theo fancied blaise, and how mutual the whole situation was, with blaise studying theo's face in the library with more dedication than any book he ever owned.
but it was still theo. quiet, shy and reserved theo the one who made the step about talking about it. whatever it was, it was troubling him enough for making him speak, and pansy wanted to honour that by letting theo do it his way.
so pansy didn't really say anything, she just nodded and smiled, and waited for theo to go on with whatever his train of thoughts was. but, it seemed that it hit what he said just yet, and he started to flush, looking down, playing with the fabric of his trousers, and back to his mumbling, but this time, so low and so fast, not even pansy could catch what was all about.
âtheo, you're doing that thing of talking to that neck of yours.â her tone was as light as it could be, almost humorous, as she wasn't trying to pressure theo, at all. she knew if she did that, theo was going to wrap around himself, and pull himself further away, when pansy wanted to push him close to her. âi can't help if you don't speak to me.â
theo fumbled for some time. he clenched his fingers around his knees and mumbled a little and pansy really felt sorry about how hectic his mind had to be for being always this anxious, and insecure and afraid. she knew that bloody father of his was to blame, but that was a battle for another day.
âwe... we don't do that, we don't do love.â theo finally said, sounding so anguish, like he was making an effort to make the words pass through the knot in his throat. and pansy knew that the we he was referring to, wasn't blaise and him.
'we' were all of them.
the slytherin.
the pure blood ones.
the sacred twenty seven, even.
and pansy found herself unable to say anything soothing, or healing to him, because theo was right, they don't do love. none of them were raised to do that. they were raised to believe there was no such thing as it, only royalty, only strategies, only bonds, only benefits.
they were raised to believe it was much safer to be feared than loved.
and it surely felt safer, less scary, more functional, and easier.
with a long sigh, pansy inched closer to where theo was sitting, one perfectly manicured hand hovering over shivering theo's ones, squeezing them lovingly. she couldn't lie to him, she wasn't that kind of person, and both of them lived too much in contact of reality for pansy to make that to him.
âthe more i try to stop it, the stronger it becomes.â theo whispered again, and this time, he sounded close to tears, completely defeated. and pansy's grip on his hands only tightened, still at a loss of words of what she could say to him that could give him some solace.
she couldn't promise him a fairytale ending that wasn't going to be true, not without also displaying the consequences of it. sure, they could run away, but they would become outcasts, forsaken by their families. by the whole society. they would become the target of rumours, and whispers and talks. with no money or name to rely on.
âi didn't want this to happen.â theo finally chocked on a sob, losing his battle, and pansy thought her heart was ripping into pieces with each sound. she knew theo was well aware that any fantasy that didn't include a settled marriage with another pure blood family was just that, a fantasy.
blaise was never going to be a part of his future, or even his present.
she also knew that none of this was what they wanted to happen. blaise was more frivolous, flirty, knowing he would have to follow the path he had to eventually, but in the meanwhile he got to be eccentric, and playful and sultry and seductive. theo was more reserved, closeted, focusing in his books and his study, keeping himself as low as he could to do that he wanted to do at the best of his possibilities, but not raising attention, not more than the one he sadly got.
she knew neither of them expected to find each other along the way.
to find understanding in a sea of rules and customs and pre-fabricated lives.
to find love.
and it was absolutely heartbreaking because from all people, theo deserved a happy ending. he was the one who deserved it the most. the one who was somehow less like the rest of them, but still, caught in the web of traditions, and strategies and alliances and bonds. with no space for love, no space for anything else than some flirty stares through the library and a few brushes of gloved fingers walking through hogsmeade.
how bloody unfair.
what pansy could possibly say to him? anything would sound fake. and fake was what pansy despised the most. she was wrapped around it, her whole life, so plastic and pristine, even if the insides were rotten. she couldn't go on with the façade, especially not for theo.
any 'sorry' would feel soulless, and any 'it will get better' would be a lie. and bloody hell, pansy held so much love inside of her towards him, for doing anything like that. the fucking irony of it.
she could just promise a shoulder to cry on, be somehow a pile of strength to make it through, because the situation wasn't going to change, nothing was going to make it better. there was no spell or no potion that could make blaise and theo happen with no consequence, no batting of an eyelash.
and while holding theo against her chest, while the other cried and cried in despair, pansy wished for truly being able of not doing love, because this situation would much easier if instead of having a heart, she had a stone.
after the battle of hogwarts, theo and blaise broke up
it was as mutual and as amicable as it could be, even if sad, for the two of them
theo just needed time and space to heal and grew up from his bad memories, and blaise felt nothing really tied him to hogwarts, or england, anymore
they saw each other three years later, at a party organised by pansy at her newly opened night club
blaise was back in england, even if moved back and forth between paris, new york and milan; and theo was working at st mungo's
the smile when we saw each other was as time didn't pass by, but their relinking was slow
theo was focused on his job, as so was blaise, and by the beginning, they just talked to each other by muggle texting, with a phone theo didn't really want but that pansy got him for his latest birthday
slowly, the texts became phone calls, and the phone calls became video calls and the video calls became weekly visits to each other apartments
(where blaise would nap with theo's cat curled on his neck while the other had night's shifts, and where they would eat until they felt like bursting thanks to blaise's mother magical lasagne recipe)
it was still slow, and organic, like they were knowing each other for the very first time
like how theo got himself braces to fix the upper line of his teeth and learned russian after he spent some months in a hospital in saint petersburg, or how blaise started to draw again and pondered about taking his n.e.w.t.s
the second christmas after they started to talk again, theo had a night shift over st. mungo's and he complained his cat would be miserable and lonely without him
jokingly, blaise told him he would keep company to wiggentree until he came back
(theo called his cat wiggentree because when he was a child, he always thought touching her would protect him from anything bad, as touching the trunk of the wiggentree would protect you from dark creatures)
it was supposed to be a joke, but when theo came back, when it was more early morning than late night, he found blaise on his couch with a sleepy wiggentree on his lap, and mistletoe hanging from every corner of his apartment
âare you trying to tell me something, zabini?â
â...maybe, is it working?â
â...maybeâ
it was theo who kissed him, tiptoeing under some mistletoe and pressing his lips eagerly against his
and the kiss felt like their first kiss, so when they parted, theo looked up at him with stars in his eyes and blaise understood the true meaning of coming back home
theo didn't even like parties, but he guessed saying no to new year's eve was too lonely, even for him
plus pansy organised it, and it surpassed all the last ones, since everything theo remembered it's her coming all the night demanding him to take shots
(he also remembered kissing blaise all night long, the other taking any mistletoe hanging in the room for an excuse for making out for minutes)
he was, anyway, the most sober out of the two, and he was going to remind blaise all his life he had to remove his shoes and clothes while he snored on their bed after they apparated back to their apartmentÂ
(blaise denied it blatantly the next day)
âcaro, i don't snoreâ
âshall we check the pensieve?â
âshut upâ
theo passed out as quickly as his head touched the pillow anyway, and he didn't even move an inch until his cat climbed on the bed the next day, next hours, demanding his attention
blaise stirred and groaned and protested in italian next to him, pleading him to make her shut up
in the end, his cat only wanted to cuddle and sleep with them, and when she was comfortable settled between their chests, she passed out, and so did theo
when he woke up again, the sun was setting outside, and theo felt a pang of guilt because he wasted a day away, even if it was the first day of the year
he tried to move blaise, but all he got was more groans and cuss words in italian so he let him be
he took a shower and made himself some tea, and around an hour later, blaise made his way into their mainroom
theo had to press a hand against his mouth not to laugh, because his always stylish and prideful and beautiful boyfriend, looked like a mess only wearing his underwear, and with a bloated face, and chapped lips, so he just looked at him with his lips pressed in a tight line
âshut upâ
âblaise i didn't say anything...â
âyou're thinking itâ
âhow many hours is going to take for you to stop acting like a toddler?â
âshut upâ
blaise moved to the couch between overdramatic whines, and theo made some quick dinner and a potion for blaise's hangover and headache, while they ate in silence only disrupted by blaise's groans and complains
it took a few hours more for the food and the potion to make effect, and for blaise to act normally, cuddling up next to him on the bed while he was reading, his arms circling tight around his waist, his nose tickling his neck
âhappy new year, caroâ
âhappy new year, loveâ
the sorting was taking too long, while an eleven years old theodore nott shivered on the chair, praying for slytherin being screamed out, as his father was, as it should be
things seemed blurry and unfocused when the sorting hat shouted out a clear 'ravenclaw' and a stunned professor mcgonagall hurried him to join his housemates at the table
everyone looked at him like he had a troll head spurting out of his shoulder, but as theo sat down and clang to a cup full of water, he smiled to himself
because it was during the first night theo spent in the ravenclaw tower, looking at the very dark, very starry sky, lost in it's infinity, that he felt truly free
his father's owls were insistent and constant, but he knew that nothing could change the fact the sorting hat chose ravenclaw, the hat was never wrong
after the second week, the last owl he received from his father, was a single sentence letter, written angrily with dark ink âno son of mine is a ravenclawâ, and theodore nott smiled to himself again, overtaken by the same sense of freedom when he looked up at the sky from the ravenclaw tower
he shared his room with anthony goldstein, michael corner and terry boot
and the distance between draco and him increased, the distance with all his childhood friends, since he only saw them in their shared classes, and somehow that distance, the blue and the silver instead of the emerald and the grey, felt like theo was lifting a weight off his chest
ravenclaw theodore nott felt different, different from the fear and the anger, for the very first time
because there was such a sense of belonging in the walls of the ravenclaw common room, in the very lame way terry boot told jokes, in the preparations for quidditch matches, in the late night talks with anthony goldstein about judaism and muggle's religion, about the way michael corner's soft black curls framed his pale, structured face
so it made him less anxious, less ashamed and less afraid, it made him more social and less cold, like he didn't need to hide and make himself smaller, not any more
the first time he saw luna lovegood, it was in the common room, he was working on an assignment for charms, and she walked barefoot, handing over issues of the quibbler
michael, terry and anthony found her to be a 'complete nutcase', but he was fascinated
ravenclaw theodore nott wasn't this lonely, awkward child, but someone almost popular, good with grades and with kind manners, that always smiled and went over potions explanations even if he was repeating himself
theo became the only ravenclaw who was able to see thestrals, and that was the reason why luna and him started talking
âmy mumâ
âsorry?â
âit was my mum, and accident, i saw her dyingâ
â...mine too, an accident, tooâ
ravenclaw theodore nott still picked arithmancy as his elective, and like so, he became a close and valuable friend of hermione granger
the yule ball made him nervous, but he asked luna lovegood any way, she agreed graciously, but she asked with a bashful smile if he was only asking her because michael corner was attending with marietta edgecombe
(he didn't response, but he blushed while luna giggled, and that night, while they attempted to dance, he threw glances across the room that michael corner never seemed able to catch)
in his fifth year, he became one of the ravenclaw prefects along with anthony goldstein, and the others just joked that he only did it to have access to the prefects bathrooms
(he totally did, and prefects bathrooms were awesome, okay?)
he didn't really want to join the dumbledore army, he felt it would be such a risk, and he felt that because of his heritage, he might be unwanted. but anthony goldstein and luna lovegood told him he should if he wanted to, and theo really wanted to
risking his life on multiple occasions, he even managed to pass valuable information to harry potter, that saved several lives and truncated some plans
when pansy parkinson cried out for someone to take harry, when the slytherin students were scouted to the dungeons, theo was torn between a heavy chest and relief
ravenclaw theodore nott took sides, and fought the battle of hogwarts, standing in one side of the castle with professor lupin, kingsley shacklebolt and arthur weasley
when the battle was over, and the first thing he saw was lupin's body on the floor, he broke down in tears over anthony goldstein's shoulder
and he returned to hogwarts after the war, after uncomfortable trials, awkward silences and bittersweet separations, to the tower he had spent his childhood in, and the only place he felt truly at home
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@snakepitnet event â winter challenge |
second prompt ; a friendship/relationship â pansy parkinson & theodore nott
| 1641 words | read in ao3
after the christmas break of their second year, theo came back to hogwarts being extremely quiet, he moved different too, and he was afraid. it was just so strange. sure theo was always quiet, but he came back with a different kind of quiet, something that was worrying and darker than his usual mood. it took a week for the three of them to notice, but when they did, they searched desperately for the cause of theo's silence.
blaise took another week to find it out, purely by accident, when in front of him he could see the angry marks of purples and blues down theo's back. so that was it, theo's quietness was carved onto him by displays of violence. and like that, it was after the christmas break of their second year, the three of them promised to each other to never, ever, leave theo alone with his father.
the problem was, it turned to be difficult to keep an eye on theo during christmas time, because it seemed to be that time of the year when being with the family was mandatory, where keeping an eye on theo, and most importantly keeping him safe from his father, seemed impossible. but it wasn't for pansy, because out of the three of them, she was the one who was more detached from her family.
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.
âpansy... merry christmas.â 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.
and pansy moved to press her lips to theo's cheek, leaving a perfect mark of her deep maroon lipstick to his pale cheek, while she squeezed his hands back, the reading long forgotten. âmerry christmas, love!â
@snakepitnet event â winter challenge | first prompt ; location: hogsmeadeÂ
thlaise drabble | 1133 words | read in ao3
blaise zabini hated winter, it was, definitely the season he hated the most. he didnât see any thrill or beauty in snowed in white sceneries, or in a wind so cold you could feel it through your clothes no matter how many layers you were wearing. how the sun was barely visible and how the days were long, grey and miserable. as bloody miserable as winter made blaise feel.
you know what was truly beautiful for blaise instead? the south of italy, in summer. beaches bathed in the pinks and oranges and deep reds of the sun setting as he enjoyed a cocktail, lying on his back, basking in the sun, feeling the warmth emanating from the sand, being absorbed by any single inch of his skin.
the weather in england sucked, but winters were just something blaise didnât even manage to tolerate.
and there was another thing than went all over blaiseâs head, and it was hogsmeade in winter.
he truly, deeply, hated hogsmeade by winter, he simply just did. it was just a stupid little village with some shops and an inn, what was all about? he didnât understand the tradition of going there on dates, either.
all the grumbling and the shivering and the freezing, just for enjoying an average cup of warm chocolate, or butterbeer (or firewishkey if pansy was with them), it wasnât just worth the effort, it just wasnât. couldnât they just stay in? the dimness of the dungeons were much better than the grey and the white of the winter scenery of hogsmeade.
there was just this slight problem: theodore nott adored winter. pale faced, scrawny and clumsy theodore nott was in love with the snow, and the greys and the cold and the ice and all of the things blaise despised with all his heart. however invented the expression the opposites attract might be having a blast when it was about theo and him.
and then, there was this another slight problem: blaise zabini couldnât really say no to theodore nott. so he bitched and complained about how much he hated hogsmeade by winter, but the moment a shiny eyed theodore nott asked him if he wanted to go to hogsmeade with him, blaise didnât even waste a second to say yes.
pathetic, he admitted so himself.
(draco just told him he was besotted, but blaise didnât even acknowledge it).
so there he was, making his way into hogsmeade, shoulders brushing with theodore nottâs. the tip of his nose was icy and he hated he had to sniff every second, because that was neither elegant or beautiful. plus, his toes felt like they were about to fall from his feet the moment they stepped outside, no matter if he was wearing some of his best italian leather shoes, a birthday present from his mother. his hands felt uncomfortably clammy inside his wool gloves, but then things seemed to take a halt when he felt theodoreâs mitten groping around him rather clumsily, and blaiseâs head turned to look at him.
the tip of his nose was surely as icy as blaiseâs, because it was red almost glowing against the paleness of the rest of his skin, he was wearing a long thick grey scarf all around his neck, barely freeing his mouth, around blaise could see little huffs of white air each time he inhaled and exhaled. fuck, theodore nott was beautiful even if he looked so wrapped in clothes he was wearing he was getting lost in them, and he knew that the way his pale cheeks flushed werenât really about the coldness in the air, but the fact blaise was squeezing his fingers through the thick fabric of his black mittens.
theo smiled at him for the fraction of a second before he buried part of his face inside the thickness of his grey scarf, and blaise felt his chest contracting in pain, because that had to be the cutest thing he had seen in a while, almost if theo was trying to tuck himself in. he was about to say something when a ball of snow came out from nowhere, and it impacted between his scarf and his coat, and he was about to kill someone because that coat was straight out of the new madam malkinâs collection, thank you. when he saw pansy laughing and throwing another ball that, this time, impacted somewhere on theoâs legs.
âcome on, love birds!â she called out, urging them to come where she was. as they approached her, blaise and theo could see that there was draco, and daphne and astoria as well, all of them preparing a literal arsenal of snow balls.
âstupid crabbe made a bet and weâre going to kick his bloody sorry arse.â it was daphne this time, and her words made theo chuckle, because daphne looked like this elite, posh princess, but she had such a potty mouth. she spent way too much time with pansy.
theo and blaise looked at each other for a second, before shrugging, and went on with the whole making snow balls plan, while listening to pansy who was, literally, planing a strategy.
the battle itself couldnât have lasted longer than half an hour, when crabbe and goyle cried in agony about surrendering, which obviously, lead to pansyâs team (she claimed it) to win. they were all panting and sweaty and their hair were a mess when they removed their coats, and scarves and hats inside the three broomsticks, since grabbeâs bet was all about buying them all the food and drinks they wanted, something he was going to regret, since pansy and draco seemed to be sure they were going to eat all their body weight in pumpkin pasties.
around the table, theo was sitting next to him, in a turtle neck black sweater that framed nicely the features of his face, the hems reaching down his knuckles, as his hands held a cup of warm chocolate. blaise was staring again, and when theo notice with a tilt of his head, it was his time for his cheeks to flush pink.
âdo you want to go to tomes and scrolls later?â blaise asked, almost brushing his question against the shell of theoâs ear, grinning to himself when he saw more of that pink hue over his cheeks, a little act of revenge; along with an enthusiastic nod, because books were something theodore nott liked as much as he liked winter.
blaise zabini still despised winter, and hogsmeade wasnât really the place he would like to be in the most (italyâs beaches were still that place), but seeing theoâs face in the eerie atmosphere of the cold, the fabric of his mittens around his hands, was enough for making his hate falter, or at least pause.
@snakepitnet event â winter challenge |
second prompt ; a friendship/relationship â pansy parkinson & draco malfoy
| 1688 words | read in ao3
there had been this tradition in the slytherin house since the third year, that had been a constant no matter what was going on (what the stupid gryffindor gits were up to) which was: pansy and draco christmas party.
being rich (and spoiled, but mostly rich), and having your common room in the dungeons had really its perks, like throwing a party without the rest of the castle not knowing it and with snape running a blind eye because favouritism should be added to the list of the slytherin best characteristics.
the party was held in slytherinâs common room, and they all set the limits of not letting first years and second years because, they might be a tad too young for dracoâs extensive christmas decoration and pansyâs creative potions, and all of them had more decency than they claimed to.
every single year draco demanded a fancy dress code that mostly everyone followed (and theodore nott hated, but blaise zabini was always there to make him change his mind), and pansy didnât give any directions but to leave her alone to drink to her heartâs content, thank you. (and they all learned to let her be, after all, it was very easy to just drag her body to the girlâs room and make her sleep it over.)
with perspective, pansy thought this was the best party they had organized up to that day. it was packed, everyone seemed to wear clothes draco approved (theo was dressed in something velvety and sultry that had blaise zabini written all over it), and pansy had literal rivers of firewhiskey and one of her best potions at her dispense, all night.
it wasnât often that she lost track of what she did, who she talked to, what were her surroundings or even how much she had to drink, but maybe her latest invention needed some refinement because the next thing pansy knew was that it was morning and she was awake, and she wasnât in a bed that were hers. in fact, she wasnât in the girls dorms at all.
she turned around and tossed with the blankets and the covers, feeling stuffy and hot even if she was wearing just her lacey black underwear, until finally a bundle next to her started to grunt as well, and pansyâs eyes widened.
well, it had to happen, and if it was a guy, and if she had to chose, she would say either zabini or even flint, but both of them were too preoccupied with other lads to pay attention to her, not what she cared, but she could still fantasize.
she was still lost in her own train of thoughts when the bundle next to her moved some more and blonde hair started to peek from under all the covers, and pansyâs heart skipped a beat, it couldnât be. but the moment she was thinking that, draco emerged fully from under the covers, muttering something about a headache before focusing on pansy, and the two of them stared at each other for a good minute, their eyes so big they were going to fall from their face.
âbloody hell.â it was what came out of pansyâs mouth, as draco let out a high pitched scream of horror, taking a handful of the blankets to cover himself, while pansy just raised one eyebrow at him.
âoh my god, malfoy, stop screaming.â she grunted with closed eyes, pressing the pads of her fingers against her closed eyelids, feeling the headache against her temples like a pulsation, like millions of tiny hammers smashing against her skull, from inside.
it had been forever since she had such a hungover.
no wonder she was half naked, in a bed, with an equal half naked draco.
bloody hell.
half naked with a half naked draco lucius malfoy.
definitely the party of the year.
draco had, thankfully, stopped screaming, and pansy was truly thinking about what happened. she had no recall of the night whatsoever, her last memory was taking shots with blaise at some point, and gossiping with daphne and astoria at some other, but then some blackness, and then just half naked with draco, nothing to fill the void with.
âpansy?â draco, for mostly looking fancy and proper, was looking like a mess with bed hair, and blood shot eyes. if pansy wasnât dying of her headache, she would be laughing at him. âhave we slept together?!â but god, his voice was so high-pitched, pansy was sure it was going to reach point where it was only going to be heard by hyppogriffs.
âmalfoy, do i look like i bloody know?!â her patience and her good manners were running short thanks to her headache, and the last thing she needed was a frantic draco demanding answers of things she simply didnât know, because⌠it wasnât possible, right?
draco and her had been friends literally forever, sure pansy thought he was pretty and everything, they understood each other well and their sassiness and sarcasm really were a good match, but it was simply impossible they had slept together, like⌠literally impossible.
âi doubt it, though.â pansy said with a shrug, sounding so sure of herself draco raised an eyebrow, and pansy had to raise his hand to make him shut up before he went all over one of his high-pitched howls of hell. it was too early for that.
âlisten, itâs not that i wouldnât shag you butâŚâ pansy tilted her head to the side, wondering how it was the ⌠nicest, way to say this. she knew draco and her were friends long enough for being used to her abrasive honesty, but maybe she was soft because it was christmas time. maybe she was just bloody hangover. âyouâre probably the least heterosexual person i have ever met.â
draco seemed silent for a minute, as if he was pondering whether or not pansy was insulting him or praising him, until, also tilting his head to mimic pansyâs action, he shrugged. âwhy, parkinson, thank you.â
before pansy could say anything else, they were surprised by a click sound and a flash of light, and when they looked at the source, there was blaise zabini, grinning like an idiot, holding the fancy muggle-inspired camera his mother bought to him the past christmas. âbellissimo! this one is going straight to my favourite collection.â
theo was standing behind him, dressed in comfortable lounge clothes, looking between horrified and completely amused at the sight in front of him, and pansy was making sure he was going to bloody kill the two of them, or at least hex them.
âi have no time for you right now, zabini.â she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and she got up, ignoring the fact she was wearing just her underwear, her headache pounding again with every step she took, even if she didnât know where the hell she was going.
a flushing theo passed her a robe, and she had to hold back her cooing before she covered herself with it, and she saw draco doing the same after leaving the bed, crossing her arms and looking at theo and blaise with a raised eyebrow. âare you just going to stand there being bloody annoying or are you going to tell what the fuck happened?â
âi saw you two snogging on the common roomâs couch, but i decided to turn away because i was sure there were some things it was better if i didnât see them.â theo said with a small shrug. he was being not helpful at all, and pansy sighed. but snogging was okay, pansy was okay with snogging draco. she was okay with snogging blaise as well, hell, she was even okay with snogging theo even if he was something between a younger brother and a small little kitten.
âbut after that?!â draco was back to his high-pitched ultrasonics again, and pansy was sure she was going to hex him for real before they even know what really happened between the two of them.
this time, blaise shrugged, shaking his head. âyou two disappeared, and i was in no mood to see what you were up to.â pansy looked at him with a deadpan expression, that was blaise zabini, always a delight. âbut, letâs be honest, i highly doubt you slept together?â he offered, with a shrug. âi meanâŚâ and he made a flourish wave at dracoâs direction, making him theo giggle.
âwhat?!â the blonde protested, crossing his arms over his chest again, not really sure what he was getting offended about.
âyes, thanks, i reached the same conclusion zabini.â pansy just wanted to take a bath and do something about her headache and just forget about this all together, even if this was the slytherin house, she expected an intervention lead by daphne greengrass the moment she put a foot inside the girlâs dorm.
âcan we just act like this never happened?â draco pleaded, and blaise just waved his camera in front of them with the best of his grins, and pansy took a deep sigh.
âlisten, i donât want to deal with this anymore, do whatever you want with the pictures zabini i donât care, i am just going to assume nothing ever happened and you all got a flash of my madam malkinâs new set of lingerie, youâre all welcome.â she turned, full of dignity, to make her way to the girlâs room.
the other three were smart enough not to try to talk back to her, when pansy parkinson was set on something nothing and no one was going to stop her about it, even if blaise was still grinning, with his camera in his hand, to a very flushed and flustered draco.
but before she left, she turned around, her face lighting up with something, as she had a revelation. âoh my god⌠i canât really wait to see harryâs face when he knows this.â it was what pansy finally said, followed by the laughs from theo and blaise, and dracoâs his high-pitched noises, and pansy just laughed.