Theo’s smirk had yet to falter.
“Maybe someday it could be something like a family business for us.”
I had never really thought of passing down business. Truthfully, it was something of a passion project. I don’t expect anyone to want to take over someday. I especially don’t expect Theo to involve himself whatsoever, that trust fund baby. At least I decided to actually make something of inheritance, Theo had never worked a day in his life and I cannot foresee him suddenly becoming a star employee.
“You can start to tend to my Draught of Living Death over there. We learned it in sixth year, it shouldn’t be something you’ll mess up.”
Finishing up a batch of Living Death was the last of today’s potions. I had originally started it, but later on realized the other potions needed to be packaged primarily, as they were out of stock. Living Death rarely sold out. They were still in full stock as of last night.
Theo nodded, getting to work. He spared a longing glance, catching my eye.
“Is that enough work for you?”
Theo nodded, turning his attention back to potion making. Theo was always bright back in our school days. Never would I have considered him to be a hard worker, though. Lazy, but brilliant enough to collect as many OWLS and NEWTS as I did. Even as an eleven-year-old child, Theodore was a brilliant wizard. Potter overshadowed us all, but back then Theo was my friend. Teddy, always there when I needed him. After meals we would sit near the black lake together; we shared stories for hours. In third year, we were also keen on caring for our respective owls. His owl, Henley, a great eagle owl, seemed to devour the owl treats I would bring for my own owl.
I scurried to the back room to retrieve a container to store Theo’s nearly-finished potion. I was only planning on staying a few more minutes, saving work for my employees such as stocking shelves.
“We’re nearly done with our work here, Nott!”
“Does this mean you’ll join me for lunch?”
Regardless of the fact that his green eyes twinkled and he wore a smug smirk, I could tell he was nervous. It’s as if we never shared a meal together. This man was utterly hopeless.
“Anywhere in particular?”
There was no denying that Arnette was indeed my favourite. We spent more Sundays than I could count there. A nice Parisian wizarding restaurant, with the most amazing variety of tea I’ve yet to come across. I weighed my options. I could go home to the manor, talk about marrying Theo with my parents at lunch or apparate to Paris with Theo and have an awkward… albeit, delicious meal.
Theodore could tell that I was considering both of my options. He looked at me in my dazed state and lifted his eyebrows, expectantly.
“Well, you’ve got me on that one, I could definitely use a classic cup of Arnette’s caramel pixie dust tea.”
“Ah, you’re growing more and more predictable, Y/N”
As if he wasn’t doubting I’d accept the invitation. I rolled my eyes. If it wasn’t for their delicious ratatouille, he would be dining alone.
We Floo to Arnette, greeted by a young waitress, maybe eighteen, tops. She’s wearing a steamed white blouse and black, silk dress pants. I feel flustered, I’m in my pink work robes, I feel shabby compared to the high fashion restaurant, and its patrons. Theo looks down at me, and smirks.
“Table for two, Mr. and Mrs. Nott. Reservation.”
I glance at Theo and roll my eyes. Of course he already made a reservation before even asking me to go. Typical of him, acting without thinking. I find it especially weird that he made our reservation under “Mr. and Mrs. Nott”. We aren’t actually married.
Once we are seated, we order and sit in silence. I shift awkwardly in my seat. What should I say? Should I continue to awkwardly sit here? I don’t even know what he’s been up to for the last few years. It all feels so unfamiliar compared to how things used to be. I had not seen him routinely since our Hogwarts days, six years ago. So much around us has changed since that time. Potter defeated Voldemort. We can all live in a somewhat less hectic world. Now that so much time has passed, the world feels just as big knowing the expectations of our traditions I am to uphold. Marriage is a frightening concept, especially considering the fact that we are expected to produce heir(ess)es before we turn thirty. I am partial to believing one of the reasons why the Nott family chose me is because of their hopes I would continue to steadily grow, good hips for child bearing, pureblood, successful, all they could want for Theodore.
I gazed at him from across the table. As flirty as he’s been, I really do doubt if his apparent feelings are genuine or even existent. He’s a very suspicious person to me. Who knows what he thinks of the situation now. Zabini and Malfoy put a lot of thoughts in his mind. Thoughts calling me a “blood traitor”, thoughts agreeing with and admiring arranged marriage. The first thing I want to do right now is confide in my friends. I wonder what Pansy and Daphne would think of his odd behavior. I picture their reactions.
It occurs to me that Theodore owes me.
“When will I be getting your old quidditch jerseys, Theo?”
“Quidditch jer- Oh!” He cuts himself off. I suppose it isn’t so personal when he cuts me off because he even does it to himself.
“Bring them by Chauldron L’Or sometime soon? They’ve always looked so comfy, I’m excited to wear them around the manor. I know doing so will appease mother and father. Your parents might like the idea as well.” I grinned.
“Around the manor?” He questions, his brows furrowed.
“Yes? Is that bad or something?”
“I was thinking we could maybe go out with you in my jersey. Show them who you chose to ma-”
It was my turn to cut him off.
“I didn’t choose anything! You were chosen for me.” I sniffed.
Theo rolled his eyes. Of course. He then surprisingly slouched ever so slightly in his seat. At this, I rolled my eyes back at him.
We sat and ate in silence for a while longer. Neither of us wanted to speak, too annoyed at one another. As if another moment of silence would be all too taxing on his subconscious, Theo huffed, and spoke again.
“I would have chosen you.” He softly murmured, giving me a defiant look.
