My Husband - Theo Nott x wife read

Description: The one thing that drives Theo literally crazy is when you call him "my husband"

Word count: 1.1k words

Warnings: violence - Theo getting into a fight, swearing, possessiveness, slight harassment

Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated.

...

Call him self-centred. If there was one thing Theo loved hearing you say, most of all, it was two words, so simple that everyone else would hardly pay them any attention. "My husband" Yes, that's right, your husband, he would think.

Once you realised what it did to him it was basically a get out of jail free card.

He's mad? "my grumpy husband," you'd say, his frown relaxed, the smile that itched the corners of his lips tells you what it needs to.

You want money? "My darling husband, your wife needs to shop" you'd softly say with your palm out, while he practically falls over himself finding you his wallet.

It was about to exceed your expectations, indeed in public, and not directed towards him at all.

You and Theo navigated through the thick crowd of people, occasionally greeting old friends, at a gala, before Theodore left you to fetch you both a drink.

Patiently waiting for Theo's return, content, until you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning around to find Vincent Crabbe with a sly grin as his hand reached towards you to offer a drink.

"No, thank you, Theo's on his way with my drink" you politely decline

"Oh come on, take it" he insists, coming closer

You unintentionally breathed out an annoyed sigh. Crabbe was just like this in school too, so relentlessly determined to start something with you.

"Crabbe, please don't make me say no again, we both know it won't end well" You smile, your lips closing even tighter this time as you inch away from the unwanted company

"It's habit, you know, the things I'd would do if I- I-I've always wanted just, one, chance" he desperately, almost drunkenly admits, coming so close that you can smell his lunch on his breath

"Yes well, I suggest you kick the habit now, considering my husband’s leniency spreads thin after one blow" You quickly say before stepping back, Theodores hands catch your waist, moving you behind him, as he steps forward, now closer to Crabbe face than he tried to get to yours.

"See Crabbe, I heard that last sentence my wife spoke, and" Theo started, synchronised with his hands rolling up his white linen shirt to his elbows

"- I don't like the way she sounded. Her tone almost scared, Crabbe, wouldn't you agree?" He continued as he backed him into a corner, you followed close behind, watching your husband unfold.

"The sort of scared that you're showing in your face right now, that's the scared I hear in my wife's voice when you were exceedingly flirting with her. Would you agree with that too?" he says his anger rising, his jaw tensing.

"N-No, I mean yes, yes, or no, no! I-" Crabbe stumbled on his words as quickly as he was stumbling over his overworking feet, all ability to flee from Theodore was impossible

Theo had weighed up his opinions but every time he blinked he saw red, hearing your voice repeating 'my husband’s leniency'. It was a reminder of who he was to you, who you are to him, something to protect by any means, that's when he fist acted before his words, clashing into the side of Crabbe's face twice.

Crabbe now on the floor, Theo dropped one more blow directly to his mouth, his wedding ring marking his the skin below his nose "See how well your mouth works now with a busted lip, you piece of shit" He spatout as he left his wounded foe.

"Are you ok? Come on" Theo's brows upturned, frantically worried he missed the worst of your conversation with Crabbe.

"I'm fine, let's get out of here" you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

...

Now home and safe in bed, Theo stared straight ahead, taking his hands in yours, you gently place delicate kisses to his busted knuckles.

"Baby" he almost whispers out, if your weren't paying such cautious attention to him you might have missed it.

Clawing on top of him you move your hands to his face as his hands take a strong grip of each side of your hips.

"I know" you soothe

Before you can add to the comfort, Theodore's lips lock yours.

The kiss needy, greedy and possessive.

His mouth moving down to your neck, "you know how much I love when you do this shit" he says behind wet hot breathes "Do what?" you smile

"call me your husband" he growls

"You are my husband" you beam, as the words leave your mouth, his hands dig into your thigh like a deathgrip

"I fucking know" he whimpers.

You feel him shift beneath you, his body humming under your touch like a live wire, each kiss, each word, only spurring him on further. It was like a thread inside him snapped every time you repeated the words.

His grip tightened, enough to bruise if you stayed like that too long, but you only welcomed it, sinking against him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he needed you to survive.

"My girl," he muttered harshly against your skin, voice cracking, almost desperate. "My wife."

You thread your fingers into his hair, giving a gentle tug that earns a guttural sound from deep in his chest. Theo had always had this temper, but this part of him, raw and pleading, always followed his outbursts.

"All yours," you whisper back, lips brushing his ear, the words an oath. Theo pulls away enough for your eyes to meet his.

"You scared me," he says, voice hoarse. "When I saw you, when I heard you. I could've fucking killed him."

"I know," you murmur again, stroking the side of his face with your thumb, the bruised knuckles resting against your hip.

"I fucking should've" his eyes exploring your own as if he was searching for reassurance

"I'd do it again," he continues

You smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth

"I know," you repeat

Theo’s hands roamed now, slower, more deliberate. His nose brushes yours before his lips dip to kiss your cheeks all over

"Say it again," he mumbles.

You knew entirely what he meant

"My husband." flashing his your wedding ring

And just like that, the air leaves his lungs in one, broken exhale, as if the words physically knocked the breath out of his body.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, pulling you flush against him, "I’m done for."

...

AUTHOR NOTE:

HIIIIIII my lovelies. Getting back into writing, starting with something small-ish, my apologies if it's not up to scratch, first time writing in months LOLLL. Also, this is unread or unedited.

Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated.

All my love,

B <3.

Snake Charmer - Theo Nott x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Description: Theo yearns for you, and yet you can't help but push him away, until you can't anymore

fluff

reblogs, comments and likes are most appreciated x

I'm back writing, please note this is not reread nor edited.

...

It was hard to resist the charm of Theodore Nott.

sitting still, almost breathless, the innocence of charms class, passing by the minute.

Except it wasn't, because time stands still when Theodore's eyes constantly find yours.

You push your hair back, you adjust in your seat, you draw on the spine of your empty page, anything to avoid the twinkle in his eye.

It shouldn't be that easy to make you swoon, you think as the heat rises to your cheeks, 'go away teddy,' you wish you could say as you let out a huff of breath you didn't know you were holding in.

Finally dismissed, you practically fly out of the classroom, head down, avoiding those rich chocolate eyes that feel like they can read your every thought.

You think you've escaped him as you head down the crowded corridor, that is, until you feel a hand slide to the small of your back, and your books slipping from your hands to his, theo.

"I can carry them myself" you insist, your hands reaching back for your books

"Don't protest, just relax and let me help you" he lips melting into a smile that almost makes you allow his little act of service

"mhm hmm", you almost tease, forcing the books away from his grip

"Back where they belong" you mutter, holding the hardcovers to your chest

"Are you coming to Hogs this weekend?" he asks, jogging a few paces ahead so he can fully face you

"Theodore you have defence now and I have herbology, you're walking the wrong way" you reply, avoiding actually answering him

"Oh, so you do pay attention, you know what I have next?" he laughs "I'm glad, I thought I was going crazy trying to get you to notice me" he continues

You'd be caught, but it wasn't enough to give in

"Please, Theodore, I only know what you have next because you were complaining so loudly in the common room last night, I think our whole house knows your schedule by now" you say, turning the corner.

He should've made way to his class by now, he will be late, so when you stop walking, he halts in unison, you drop your books down on a nearby ledge, and gently but quickly place your hands on his shoulders, turning him around to set his route straight

"That way" you tilt your head in the direction of his class, releasing your hands from him, he almost flinches like you had just given him everything and then taken away the universe.

You keep walking, looking back to where Theodore remains still, staring.

You shake your head.

You also shake down your smile.

By the time the day was over, you headed to the common room, where you find him instantly, fighting with his lighter to start his cigarette with no success, you watch him closly as he drops to the floor by the fireplace, caustiouly leaning into the fire, the cigrartte that hangs from his mouth catches and ignites, he rolls over away from the fire, his hands moving to rest behind his head

"Hi" he smiles, smoke crowding his face

"Thats a dangerous act you just pulled, Theodore", you say rising your brows in disapproval

Before he could reply, Pansys stormed in and slumped into the couch beside you

"You're a real piece of work Theodore" she grits

"A sexy piece of work" Mattheo jokes, nudging Theo's leg before dropping into the single armchair

Pansy rolls her eyes, "What did he do now?" Blaise asks, placing a quick kiss on her cheek before settling with an arm around her

"I've got detention, because I didn't finish my project, because my partner didn't show up to class, and the work was too much for one person to finish" she says, eyes wide as she stares at theodore

"If looks could kill, Pans" Enzo laughs

"Oh Theodore, when will you learn" Draco disaproves standing above Theo

"I didn't go to class because someone" he says, looking directly at you, while you still look like a deer in headlights

"Ran away from me again, why do you run?" he says softly, head tilted, eyes dreamy

"I don't run!" you blurt defensively

"Right, I'm sorry, you flee". He says his hand is clenching his heart

"I do not" your whole body on fire and all eyes watching you

You're ripped out of your trance as pansys arm smacks your shoulder

"I knew you had something to do with it, ughhh!" she complains

"I'm innocent!" you deflect slapping her back, Blaise stuck in the crossfire

"You are not. I skipped class and smoked two packs of cigarettes to try and mend my broken heart" Theo sighs, finally standing up

"There you go, Pans, just explain that to Snape that Theos is heartbroken and all will be well" Enzo smiles

Pansy narrows her eyes between the two of you. “If I fail this term because he’s in love, I will hex you all.”

“I’m not in love,” Theo says instantly.

Too instantly.

Mattheo makes a noise of disbelief. “You wrote her initials in the condensation on the window this morning.”

“That was absent-minded,” Theo snaps.

“That was humiliating,” Draco corrects.

You stare at him.

His jaw tightens, just slightly. A crack in the performance.

“You’re all very dramatic,” you say

“No,” Theo replies quietly. “I’m very patient.”

You take a shaky breath, gathering yourself to leave "Where are you going?" Theo says too close

"Back to my dorm" You say, walking away

"See! Fleeing!" Theodore calls out behind you, it makes you stop, you turn around faster than you intended, until you're once again face to face with sweet teddy bear nott

"I do not flee." Your face is wearing a serious expression

"You've done it twice just today" he challenges, inching closer

"What do you want from me Theo?" you say sternly

“I want you to stop pretending you don’t feel it.” he returns

“You look at me like I’ve done something terrible,” he continues softly. “Like I’ve unsettled you.”

“You have,” you whisper, forgetting the room wasn't full of your friends

Good,” he says, voice barely above the crackle of the fire. “Because you’ve ruined me.”

Mattheo groans loudly, breaking the silence, but not the tension, “Merlin, this is nauseating.”

Draco throws himself onto the sofa. “If he starts reciting poetry, I’m transferring.”

Theo doesn’t break eye contact.

“I missed class because I couldn’t stand the idea of you avoiding me again,” he admits. “I thought if I skipped it, at least I’d have an excuse to be miserable.”

"Merlin Theo, I can't win with you" you sigh, pushing past him back towards your dorm

"No, I can't win with you" he huffs

"Actually, I'm the real loser, with detention, if you two needed the reminder" Pansy calls out, waving her hands

"Shut it Pans" Theo says, lighting another smoke, watching you disappear into the stairs

"Smoking that much is going to kill you" Blaise warns him

"That's not what's going to kill me" he says, inhaling

It's quiet in your room, hours have past and you wish you could stop thinking about him. Your legs move before you can stop yourself, too quickly, until you reach the heavy wooden door of Theo's dorm.

You knock too hard, you can hear his footsteps and his hand reaching and twisting the doorknob

"Hi", you say breathless

"You're out of breath" he almost laughs

"Well, I ran" you almost laugh

"Classic" he snorts

You search his face, you find his eyes, as they bore into you and before you can say anything else, you step forward and kiss him.

You kiss him gently, he kisses you back as if he doesn't, he would drop dead, he doesn't pull away, when you do, you rest your hands on his chest.

Your mouth opens to explain, but he interrupts, placing pecks on your lips

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

You almost laugh into the fifth one.

"You really are a runner", he can't help his aching smile

“No more cigarettes for heartbreak,” you say quietly.

“No more running,” he smirks

“Deal.” You smile in return as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, moving you both into his dorm.

...

reblogs, comments and likes are most appreciated x

I'm back writing, please note this is not reread nor edited.

I hope you guys enjoy xx

Theo Nott x curly-haired reader - imagine

Description: You never wear your hair naturally curly. When your boyfriend finally sees your hair curly for the first time, he loses his mind.

fluff

(unedited) word count: 852 words

reblogs, comments and likes are most appreciated x

...

It was tireless work.

Every single day.

The faint steam that rose with each swipe, the sharp crackle as your curls resisted the iron’s pull. The smell of heat, the sting of singed ends, the ache in your arms as you pressed and tugged section after section into submission.

That's how Theo knew you, that's how everybody knew you, the girl with the straight hair, there was nothing to it really.

Until this morning, that was.

You wake up in a daze, your alarm blaring at you like it wanted you up and ready one hour ago.

It wasn't until your hardly open eyes squinted enough to catch a glimpse of the time, breakfast was over, and you had 4 minutes to make it to your class.

You shot upright, dressed in record time, and slammed your dorm door behind you.

You make it just as everyone else was walking from the cooridor to the classroom, thats when you caught eyes with Theodore, who was standing dead in his tracks, as hes shoulders shoved left to right from fellow peers working there was around him.

He was a statue, unmoving, his eyes glued to you like it was the first time he had seen you.

Your brows lightly tugged as you got closer to him. When you're finally face to face, you swear you hear him inhale twice, like his first breath wouldn't suffice.

"Your hair" he doated as his hands found their way to cling to the back of your head

"My what?" you almost laugh

"Darling, you're hair. It's hypnotic," his eyes poured into your own his fingers twisted a curl

"I don't understa-" you mutter, the last word failing to finish as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass reflection

"No!" you screech, swatting his hand away

"Yes!" Theo opposed his hands now, swallowing your fustered face

"No, no, no, no", you scrambled, grabbing fistfuls of curls

"Yes, yes, yes, yes" your boyfriend beamed with a shit eating grin spreading across his face

“I fell asleep with it wet,” you explained in a rush. “I was so tired I forgot all about it this morning, I—Merlin, I even missed breakfast sleeping in—”

“I know,” he cut in softly, thumb brushing along your temple, utterly unbothered by your spiral. “I wondered where you were.” His lips twitched, eyes still devouring you whole. “But baby, this… this was a happy mistake. Merlins gifted me a miracle.”

“A miracle?” you almost choked, staring at him like he’d gone mad.

“Yes,” Theo rushed, words tumbling out before you could argue. “Just last night I was thinking, it’s so bloody unfair to everyone else, how beautiful you are. Like, it should be illegal. And I thought, there’s no possible way you could get any more perfect.” His hands were moving now, pulling you closer, his voice growing more frantic with each word. “And then—” he gestured helplessly at your curls, his jaw clenching as if the sight of you was causing him actual pain, “you roll out of bed like this.”

“Like this?” you repeated, dubious, tugging at your hair again.

“Yes!” His voice cracked into something raw, unfiltered. “Like this! It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Before you could protest, his arms wrapped around you fully, pressing your head firmly into his chest, curls crushed against the fabric of his jumper. You felt the rumble of his laugh above you, shaky, uneven, his heart beating fast enough that you wondered if maybe you had killed him after all.

“Theo,” you mumbled against him, voice muffled.

“No, don’t ‘Theo’ me,” he countered immediately, burying his nose into your hair, inhaling like he’d been starved of air his whole life. “You’ve been hiding this from me. From everyone. And it’s criminal, darling, absolutely criminal.”

Your lips twitched, half ready to argue, half ready to melt. “You’re insane.”

“Mad about you,” he corrected easily, the words slipping out like instinct. He tilted your face up then, his thumb brushing your cheek, his eyes dark and earnest. “Swear to me you’ll stop hiding. Don’t take this away from me again.”

It was ridiculous, it was only hair, but the way he looked at you, curls tangled between his fingers like something holy, you thought maybe, just maybe, it was more than that.

"Go on, get into class and save me a seat. I'll be ten minutes," he ordered with a gentle kiss on your cheek

"Where are you going?" you call out to him, Theo looking back, already half down the hallway

"To hide your straightener", he laughed, but nothing was funny. He was serious, and you knew it. You returned the laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

Maybe you could get used to your curly hair.

...

And yes, this is one hundred percent me projecting, as I have left my naturally curly hair out wild and untamed for the first time in forever.

xxx

B.

reblogs, comments and likes are most appreciated x

Reading you like an open book -

TheoNottxreader fic

Word count: 900 words

Description: Theo can't handle it when you choose books over him, and when he tries to do something about it, he faces an unpredictable ending

Warnings: None, just pure fluff <3 unread and unedited

Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, my loves <3

...

Reading should be good for you, you thought, it is good for you, it strengthens the mind, widens your imagination. Theodore thought otherwise. There you were on your day off, sunken deep into the couch, reading, instead of spending your precious time with your devoted boyfriend.

"Enough of that, come to bed" Theo lazily mutters, standing in front of your place on the couch, his face wild for your attention.

Who would've thought Theo would have to fight for his girl, his competition, glued pages of paper.

You blink up with tired eyes all you could manage was to shake your head in defiance.

"It's almost three a.m., love. Get up," he insisted, dropping to a crouch in front of you, his hands finding your knees as he pleaded gently, voice rough with exhaustion. He looked so boyish, begging for something as simple as your presence.

"One more chapter and I'll meet you in bed" you yawn, the book slipping slightly in your grip

"No," Theo almost laughed, shaking your legs a little to jolt you awake. "I can’t sleep without you next to me, dork. You know that."

Theodore is met with no reply, stubborn as ever, he watched your eyes return to your page, he let out his own frustrated grunt

"You're sleep schudule is fucked, you have two seconds to close the book before I do it myself" he continued

This made your ears prick. He wouldn't dare; he's never understood how much you love reading, and his complaining was getting more frustrating by the day.

You turned another page defiantly, the rustle sounding louder than it should have.

"That's it" he mutters before his hands take possession your novel, it all happened so quickly, you exhuasten halted as you sprung up, practically climbing onto him to retrieve what's yours.

"Don't put up a fight," Theo beamed, absolutely delighted, catching you easily as you wriggled in his arms. This, he thought, was much better than you reading.

"Theodore, stop!" you laughed breathlessly, half playful, half furious, to be fair it was funny, until.

Until the book dropped, and your bookmark with it.

You gasped, jumping from his hold, staring at the disaster laid out on the ground.

"My bookmark you just lost my page, Teddy?!" you exclaimed as you picked your heart off the floor

"Oh shit, sorry darling, just... place it back" he gently apologies

"No! Theo if I do that I might accidentally read ahead, everything ruined, you idiot! Argh" your fingers ran through your head, a mix of stress and tiredness.

"I-" he started

No," you cut him off sharply, jabbing your finger against his chest with every word.

"The last sentence I read was 'I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love.' "You declared with such seriousness. "And now you, Theodore, are going to read until you find it. Once you do, and only then, may I continue reading."

Without sparing him a glance, you spun on your heel and stormed towards the bedroom.

"Hold on, Hold on" you heard behind you as Theo chases rapidly.

"No debate, Theo, happy reading" you tease as you dive under the bed covers

Theodore is still rushing to understand what his gotten himself into

"Sweetheart, look at this thing I'm not going to make it through, I'll be bored to death honey" you complained, holding his new copy of pride and Prejudice up

"Happy reading baby" you say pecking a kiss to his cheek.

You didn’t think he’d actually read it. Maybe flick through a few pages, maybe even quickly skim the first chapter at best.

Four days passed and you had found Theo in an unusual spot, your spot, on the couch, your reading spot of the couch, peering over you saw his face focused, his lips slightly parted, mouthing the words he was reading almost inauidably.

Leaning over so that your face sat on his shoulder, you looked between the pages and your boyfriend.

"Is this real?" you giggle

"Shh" Theo scolded, waving a hand in the air without looking up, eyes darting across the page.

Glaring over to focus on what he was up to, you notice the page at the top

"Teddy? That’s passed my bookmark” your eyes widening

"Wait. I thought you didn't know what page you were up to" he says finally looking up at you

"Yeah, I knew, just wanted to see if you'd actually read" you smile

"You evil little minx" he chuckled "you've passed me?" you questioned

“I was just making sure, double checking, yeah?” He insisted on rapidly shutting the page

“You’re so cute, read on. Just don’t spoil it for me”, you smile your hands finding their way into his hair

“I wouldn’t dare” he says, picking the book back up

“Not in front of me! I can’t see the pages I haven’t read!”

“Sorry” he says, shutting the book once again, his lips meeting yours, the novel still in his hands

"Teddy" you softly breathe into his kiss

"Yes, lovely girl" he replies just as softly as you had

"Put the book down" you suggest

"Right" he mutters, abandoning the novel as his hands cup your face.

...

Author's note: so happy to be writing again <3

Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, my loves

loveeeeee B xxx

omg, I LOVE this, skiing and snow day with teddy:

...

Many things came along with the opulence of Theodore Nott

That included a minimum stay of two and a half weeks at his favourite ski lodge every winter.

Not just your winter, Theodore would have you both fly to the opposite side of the world for a good ski, insisting on going from England to New Zealand just for the Southern Hemisphere snow, not going to waste.

There's something so captivating about Theo in his all-black ski attire, leather gloves, and cashmere scarf. So discipline in his sport.

You watch his grip tighten on his ski sticks, and he turns a corner, or his strong legs whip through the thick snow.

His muffled chuckles behind his mask as he laughs at your occasional slip, his gloved hands helping you up and planting you back on your feet with his hands lingering on your hips or waist, his voice teasing "Gracful, Darling"

He also insists on sharing a hot tub, his excuse being that it’s “necessary for sore muscles.”

Snow angels, the print of his body on the white snow much larger than your own

Theo rolls his eyes when you force him to build a snowman, fighting back a smile when you jump up and down when its finished, to tease you he'd take a bite out of the carrot nose you jammed into the snowman

Theo is an experienced skier, so it's rare if he does fall, but he does everything in his power to not fall, just the idea of falling is humiliating to Theodore.

If you get worried the slope it too steep or high he's voice drips encouragement, "Come on ,champion you can handle this" pointing below, "I know you got this, I wouldn't let you go down if I thought you weren't able to." when you finally take of with Theo beside you he'd scream out "atta girl!" kissing you when you both make it to the bottom

He'd help you jump into your heavy ski outfit, fitting it to your skin

BONUS: someone guy bumping into you mid ski and those losing his shit

Gliding down the snow felt so natural to you, the wind that fought against your speed, so refreshing, your body aligned to the rhythm of the slope, until just as you leaned into another turn, a blur barreled into you, sending you sprawling across the snow.

Pain immediately hit your shoulder as you tumbled, skis tangling awkwardly beneath you. Before you could even catch your breath, the figure—a man about your age snapped, “Watch where you’re going, yeah?”

You stared at him, stunned and winded, your reply stuck in your throat, pulling your mask down the only thing to leave your mouth was the smoke of the cold air, from your now heavy breathing.

Theo was there in an instant. He skidded to a stop, snow spraying in the direction of the man who crashed into you, his jaw set in a way that made your stomach flip for an entirely different reason.

"You want to repeat that?" Theodore's voice cut through

“I said—” the guy started, but Theo cut him off, stepping closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the snow.

“You crashed into her.” Theo’s tone was sharp now, his anger contained but unmistakable, like the stillness before a storm. “And instead of apologising, you wanna run your mouth?”

"Look, man, she was in the wa-" he protests again

"you apologise before this snow turns red on your fucking account, got it?" this time Theo was interrupting him

After the chaos, Theo insisted no more skiing for the day, that he would carry you everywhere, and you could sit by the fire sipping hot chocolate, non-negotiable.

Reblogs comments and likes are much appreciated my loves x

Theo Nott x Reader Series, Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts, Chapter Five.

Work count: 2.7k words

Warnings: mild swearing, family of death eaters, wizard war, physical pain

Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated. <3

...

Chapter 5

When Theodore Nott was just six years old, he fell off his broom. It had been a birthday gift, and in the moment, all he wanted was to impress his parents. But he lost control, lost balance, and when his body hit the concrete, the broom snapped in two. His mother had run to him. His arm was grazed, so before bed, she brewed a healing tea and kissed it better. Tears welled in his eyes over the broken broom.

“My sweet Theodore,” she hushed him, “a broom, dear boy, can be fixed. With patience and ambition, we will get that broom together again.” She smiled, and he returned it.

“Remember what I told you—everyone faces hardship, even little boys and their broomsticks. But my little snake, this is just a layer of skin to be shed.” He giggled at her lovely words and fell asleep.

He woke the next morning to the news of her sudden death. In a daze, he grabbed the broken broom and ran. He hid for thirteen hours—away from his grandparents, away from his father. During that time, he tried to fix the broom like she’d promised they would do together. For three weeks, he kept at it. Determined, but lacking the patience she once encouraged. One morning, he recalled her voice. The words. The promise. How pathetic, he thought. Nearly a month had passed and the broom still lay in pieces.

He hated patience. But for her, he decided to slow down.

That day, he took the time. By evening, the broom was whole again. Just as she said it would be.

He flew it straight to her grave. Extending his arm, he presented it to her headstone.

“You were right, Mummy. I did it… maybe I can brew you some healing tea too,” he whispered, beginning to cry. “So you can come back and watch me fly without falling.” He sat at the tombstone, voice shaking, “Where did you hurt? I can kiss it better like you did my arm…”

He cried and cried, kissing the cold grey stone with true hope it might heal her—bring her back—until his father found him.

“Kissing the concrete won’t do you any good!” his father snapped, dragging him by the arm.

“Hey! Mother just fixed that arm—let go!” he cried, running back to the grave.

“What are you doing, Theodore?” his father barked.

“I’m waiting for her to come back so I can fix her!” he screamed.

His father picked him up then and muttered, “You’ll be waiting a lifetime of death, Theodore.” He patted his son’s shaking back.

That night, Theodore knew she wasn’t coming back. That patience had gotten him nowhere. From that moment on, he chose ambition. Over and over again. At least that never failed him.

Waking up wasn’t the usual comfort. He stirred first and watched you. Took in the rise and fall of your chest, the slight puffiness in your face. He noticed the angry red scratches running over your dark mark—fresh and jagged. He compared them to the dried ones on his own. It reminded him of the broomstick fall all those years ago—how it hurt to scrape the same spot.

It hurt even more now. To realise he still couldn’t steal either of you away from the nightmare you were both trapped in. So, when he slept, he dreamed of waking somewhere far away. A home. A future. Friends. A family. A world without reminders of now.

But that future felt impossibly far.

He didn’t want to wake you—you needed rest after last night. Still, he reached over, brushing a hand gently against your cheek. You shifted, eyelashes fluttering open. He met your eyes and pressed his forehead to yours, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

When the two of you finally went downstairs, arms carefully covered, you both made sure not to reveal anything. Not today. Not to them. Disobedience wouldn’t be tolerated.

You hadn’t slept well—anyone could see that. Your head throbbed, and people stared. Your unbrushed hair, your hunched posture, the shadow of pain beneath your eyes. Theo caught their looks and returned them with daggers.

At the table, the others were already there.

“Well, that’s the lot of us done, then,” Mattheo muttered, spoon pointed toward your covered arm.

“Yeah,” you said, managing a faint smirk. “Just when I thought we couldn’t get more alike, Teo.”

“My father says it’s just us. We’re the only ones marked in this war,” Draco scoffed.

“Officially the Lord’s bitches,” Enzo added with a sarcastic smile.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s get some coffee,” she said, and you followed her.

“How you holding up?” Blaise asked Theo once you’d gone.

He only shrugged.

“I know, man. When Pans got hers, it hurt more watching her suffer than getting my own,” Blaise admitted quietly.

Theo only nodded, still haunted by your screams.

“At least we get out of this house today,” said Mattheo.

“Yeah, like Hogwarts is any better,” Draco muttered. “Wish Mother and Father had sent me to Durmstrang.”

“You’d die without us, Draco,” you said lightly, ruffling his hair as you returned.

Soon, Lucius and your father stood before you all.

“The elves are preparing your bags. It’s almost nine. Be ready to leave in forty-five minutes,” your father stated. Lucius simply nodded and moved on with him.

At the station, house-elves trailed behind, carrying trunks. It had been your parents’ idea—to uphold tradition, to display control. You hated it. All of you did. But when the elves admitted they wanted out of the house too, you didn’t argue.

The train was crowded. First-years scurried, third-years strutted. You passed the carriage of the Golden Trio. Harry met your gaze, and you quickly looked away, pushing inside to sit with the others.

Everyone was quiet. Tired. Emotionally worn thin. The silence between you all said more than words ever could.

You leaned your head on Theo’s shoulder, drifting in and out of the conversation. Then black smoke clouded the window.

“What was that, Blaise?” Pansy asked.

“Probably just first-years messing around,” Enzo said, unconcerned.

“This school’s a mess,” Draco muttered.

“Someone’s gotta teach them discipline,” added Mattheo.

Comments like that made you remember the houses they came from.

By nightfall, the train pulled in.

“Let’s go before some scrawny second-years steal the good seats,” Theo urged.

“Go ahead. I’ve got something to check,” Draco said.

“Hurry up, Malfoy,” Enzo called.

“He’s staying. Let him,” Pansy replied, stepping off.

“Whatever,” Theo mumbled, glancing back at Draco, confused.

The sorting felt endless. Enzo pulled you all closer during the last names.

“Any first-year recruits for our eager Lord?” he joked.

You all laughed—dark humour for a darker time.

“That one with the pointy ears,” Blaise chuckled, pointing to a kid down the Slytherin table.

“No, I’ll tell Daddy about four-eyes,” Matteo added.

“Come on, it’s obviously him,” Theo grinned, pointing to a long-haired boy.

“Merlin, he’s a mini Snape!” Enzo howled.

“Alright, alright, let’s hear what Dumbledick has to say,” Draco said with a smirk.

They laughed, but Theo’s expression changed when Dumbledore’s voice shifted:

“Once there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very Hall. Walked these corridors. Slept beneath this roof. His name? Tom Riddle.”

You reached for Mattheo’s hand under the table, and the others did the same.

“Today, the world knows him by another name. Which is why, as I stand looking at you tonight, I’m reminded of a sobering fact. Every day, every hour, this very minute perhaps, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle’s walls. But in the end, their greatest weapon... is you.”

It was as though the breath had been stolen from the Hall.

You didn’t know whether to look up or down—but instinct made you glance up.

Harry Potter stared at your group. Blood on his nose. Fury in his eyes.

“To bed, pip pip,” Dumbledore said at last.

You inhaled deeply, pushed yourself to your feet, and followed the others out.

But they were already ahead. You’d stayed still for too long—too lost in your mind.

Too aware of what you’d just heard.

Theo Nott x Reader Series, Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts, Chapter Four.

Work count: 1.4 words

Warnings: mild swearing, family of death eaters, wizard war, physical pain

Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated. <3

...

Chapter 4 It is a destiny none of you can escape, a Slytherin dynasty of immortal service.

The next morning, the marked boys keep constant watch over you and Pansy. Everyone knows it could happen at any moment. You’ll be collected.

Pansy goes first. Four in the afternoon. Blaise is clearly upset. When she returns, something in her eyes has shifted. Her arm too. Darkened.

It leaves you uneasy. You thought you would go together. But she insists on keeping the day normal. So you study and wait. Read and wait. The grand clock in the drawing room says 8:47 p.m. The boys have just gone out to play Quidditch.

School is resuming soon. You think, I’ll go pack my trunk, and start upstairs. Pansy is stretched out on the couch, eyes still fixed on her arm.

“How are you doing?” you ask softly.

She smiles.

“I’m fine. Don’t be too scared. The easier you accept it, the faster it goes.”

You sit beside her, the trunk forgotten. Your hands move to plait her short hair, a distraction for you both.

“Did you see Snape’s face at breakfast?” she says, trying to lighten the moment.

You mimic his voice with exaggerated precision. “I saw, Parkinson. I suggest that you find it within yourself, dear girl, to not laugh at your house leader.”

The two of you laugh. Harder than you expect. So hard that you do not notice the figure in the doorway until he speaks.

“Miss Avery, follow me if you will,” Snape says slowly.

No more waiting. You glance at Pansy without hesitation.

“Tell Teddy. Please, Pans.”

“Do not inform Mr Nott, Parkinson. I do not need him trailing behind. He needs to stay here. As still as a gargoyle,” Snape says, fixing her with a pointed look.

Pansy nods. She takes that as a cue not to speak and dashes off, running down the stairs toward the back gardens where the boys are.

Snape begins detailing the instructions left by the Dark Lord. A carriage is waiting. So are your parents. At the front doors.

Your bones weaken. The paleness in Snape’s face tells you everything. You are right to be afraid.

You want to see Theo one last time. But time is never yours.

“Where are we going?” you ask, as your mother forces you into the carriage.

You arrive at a house. Inside, you are transported by Floo Powder. You look around. You know this place instantly. Knockturn Alley.

It is unusually quiet. The school year is close. It feels strange.

You slip through the dark, narrow alleys, reaching for your mother’s hand, but she is walking too fast. You cannot catch the comfort you need. She is worried too. She has lived through this.

You are led to the front door of Borgin and Burkes. When you enter, dread coils around your spine. You can smell the evil here. You have no idea what is coming.

Meanwhile, Pansy is pushing through the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

“What’s wrong?” Blaise asks the second he sees her. She walks past him, heading straight for Theodore.

“They’ve taken her. Borgin and Burkes,” she says quietly.

That is all Theo needs. The equipment in his hands crashes to the ground.

“Fuck,” he growls.

Everyone flinches.

“Fuck,” he says again, pacing the grass.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, collapsing onto the stone steps. His head drops into his hands.

There is nothing left for any of them to do but wait.

You are placed in a chair. Surrounded. Death Eaters everywhere. This is their entertainment now.

Then he arrives. The Dark Lord. He steps up to the table before you, a smile spreading as he chuckles.

“Well, aren’t I excited to see you. Such a talented little witch. My final of the seven.”

The Death Eaters laugh with him.

He wastes no time. Grabs your arm. Exposes your forearm. The ritual begins. It must be him. His magic alone. A dark Protean Charm. His nails are long, sharp. They pierce your skin. Blood surfaces.

“Morsmordre,” he whispers.

He digs deeper. Your hand burns. The Dark Mark spreads across your skin. You wince. The pain is indescribable. You want to cry. But you won’t. You know he will enjoy it if you break. And weakness does not please him.

So you hold it in. Meet his eyes.

On the way back to the Wiltshire Estate, your mother cannot hide her pride.

“Only Voldemort’s inner circle were and are branded with the Dark Mark. Even Greyback has not been granted this highest honour.”

But you are hurting. You are in pain. You want Theo. You need to sob. You have been marked.

Once back, you do not waste time. You slam open your bedroom door. Close it behind you. Collapse against it. Head against the wood.

“Silencio.”

You whisper the charm, sealing the door in silence. You will not let the house hear your screams. Your pain is not for them. Only a chosen few have been handpicked by the Dark Lord. You will not embarrass your family with your cries.

You look up.

Theo is already there. Sitting on your bed. Waiting for you. Just as you did for him.

The moment your eyes meet, he is scanning you. Desperate.

Did they only mark your arm? Or did they go further?

He pulls you into a hug. You melt into him.

He lifts you. You wrap your legs around him. The sobs come.

He feels your chest heaving and lowers you onto the bed. He kneels before you, eyes searching your tear-streaked face.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks, voice hard.

“Did they fucking hurt you? I’ll kill them. Fuck magic. I’ll use my bare hands. Tell me.”

You shake your head. The tears keep falling.

“No. No. They didn’t hurt me. I was just scared. That’s all.”

You wipe your face.

“Okay. Okay,” he says, breathing deeply.

“Do you promise me?”

You kiss his cheek.

“Yes, Theodore. I promise.”

Theo Nott x Reader Series, Dark Marks and Forbidden Hearts, Chapter Two.

Work count: 1.6k words

Warnings: mild swearing, family of death eaters, wizard war

Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated.

Previous chapter

Chapter two

...

Absolutely! Here's the corrected Chapter 2 in second person, present tense, with present-tense verbs throughout, and with "you," "Avery," or "Aves" used only by your friends—never by adults or your parents.

Chapter 2 (Second Person, Present Tense)

You wake to the sharp snap of blinds being yanked open. Sunlight floods the room, far too bright for this early hour, and you bury your face into the pillows with a groan.

“Narbey, please,” you whisper. “It’s too early. It’s the holidays.”

“Miss, you have company… your parents are waiting downstairs,” the house elf says, voice tight with fear. He’s pleading with you to move, and you know if you don’t, he’ll pay the price.

You sigh and sit up, rubbing your eyes. You don’t have it in you to let him suffer, even if every bone in your body wants to stay buried under the covers. You freshen up quickly, the pit in your stomach growing as you prepare for whatever surprise the day brings.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, the sight outside makes your heart stumble. The car is being packed—suitcases, boxes, even decorative items from the house—all carted away by house elves with meticulous care.

“What’s going on?” you ask your father, who stands silently at the front of the estate, watching.

“We’re leaving for the summer,” he says without turning to look at you, voice cold and final.

Look at me, you think, What the hell is this?

“To where? Forever?” you ask, hurrying after him as he steps back inside.

“No. Just the summer. To the Malfoys’,” your mother calls from another room.

You glance around, eyes darting across bare walls and empty shelves. “Then why are you packing the heirlooms? Half the furniture’s gone.”

“Enough,” your father says sharply. “Go pack. Take what you need. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

You don’t argue. You run upstairs and toss things into your suitcase—robes, shoes, spellbooks, a few personal keepsakes. Wand in hand, you head back down, your bag dragging behind you.

Just as you step outside, a hard shove hits your left shoulder, knocking the suitcase from your grip.

“Give it to Narbey,” your father barks, already pulling it from your hands. “That’s what he’s here for.”

Narbey rushes to grab the handle with his tiny hands, struggling under the weight. You reach to help, but the second your hand touches the suitcase again, your father spins around.

“Don’t touch it!” he shouts. “Do not disobey me.”

You flinch and immediately let go. “Sorry, Narbs,” you mouth as the elf waddles toward the car.

You follow after your father, bombarding him with questions, trying to drag out any clue about this sudden move. He offers nothing. No answers. No explanations. Eventually, you stop and wait in the front living room, where the chair beneath you is as stiff and cold as the silence in the house. You don’t mind leaving it behind.

“We’re going,” your father says as he strides past you. Your mother is already out front. You take one last look around, gaze lingering on the halls and the family portraits that line the walls. Then you follow.

The car ride from your estate in Cheshire to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire takes just over three and a half hours. Not a word is spoken between the three of you. You consider asking why you didn’t just fly, but decide it’s not worth the scolding.

When you finally arrive, the Malfoys are waiting at the end of the long drive, regal and silent. You step out quickly, offering polite greetings to Lucius and Narcissa before making your way to Draco. He pulls you in for a hug without hesitation.

“What a gloomy day,” he mutters, glancing up at the grey sky before closing the door behind you both.

You laugh quietly. “I know. This is supposed to be summer?”

You notice a pile of suitcases by the door, including yours, but Draco is already moving, and you follow him up the stairs. He glances back with a grin as you trail a few steps behind.

“What?” you ask, matching his smile.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, casual and cryptic, as he leads you toward the library.

Curiosity sparks in your chest. You speed up and throw open the doors.

“Here she is!” a group of voices shout in unison.

You freeze. In front of you are your people—Blaise, Pansy, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Theodore. Your entire summer just transformed. You rush straight for Theo, who holds his arms out without a word, and you crash into his embrace.

“What’s going on?” you beam, heart racing. All of you, together for the summer? It’s too good to be true.

“Don’t get too excited, Aves,” Draco calls from a lounge chair in the center of the room.

Your grin falters. “Why? What do you mean?”

They all exchange glances, and slowly, everyone settles onto the nearby couches. The mood shifts.

“Go on,” Pansy says, arms folded. “Someone’s gotta tell her.”

Theo drapes an arm around your shoulder and lets out a slow breath.

Something’s wrong. They know something you don’t.

“This summer,” Blaise starts, voice unusually serious, “we’re preparing to serve—”

“Oh, come on, just say it,” Enzo interrupts, impatient.

Blaise shoots him a look. Pansy stifles a laugh at the exchange. You turn toward Theo, but he won’t meet your eyes.

Mattheo is the one who says it. “We’re going to be working under the Dark Lord.”

“I kinda figured,” you admit, though your voice isn’t as steady as you hope.

“No, not just here and there,” Pansy adds.

“We’re getting marked soon,” Theo says, fishing in his pocket for a cigarette.

Your stomach flips. “Oh.”

You’ve heard the rumors—that it burns and never stops burning, that touching it can summon Him, that it opens wards and tears through barriers. But no one talks about the weight of it. No one mentions what it does to your soul.

“As much as we want this to be the summer of fun,” Mattheo smirks, taking the cigarette Theo passes him, “it’s going to be the bleakest one yet.”

You sink into the cushions like they might swallow you whole. You’re all the same age, but sometimes, it feels like you’re still catching up—like they’ve already stepped into adulthood, and you’re just now being pushed through the door.

It starts today. You’ve clearly misunderstood what the word fun means this summer.

At dinner that night, with your best friends and their respective families around the long table, it becomes clear that Malfoy Manor is to serve as headquarters. It makes sense, you suppose. Enzo leans in and whispers that the Dark Lord chose this place himself—no one argues with that.

You’re not unfamiliar with the manor. It mirrors your own: towering, grand, and mostly unused. But with what’s coming, you know every corner will be alive by the month’s end. For now, your seven families occupy its halls.

The second floor is given to the adults. The third is yours.

That part? That part makes it bearable.

The seven of you waste no time claiming the space. You start in the sitting room, move to the card room, and end the night tangled in laughter. Despite the extra rooms, you all decide to bunk together—without parental approval, of course.

Blaise and Pansy take one. You and Theo another. The rest—Draco, Mattheo, and Lorenzo—find their own corners of the floor.

You’re already in bed, eyelids drooping, when you hear the creak of the door. Theo slips in, sheds his layers without a word, and slides in beside you, arms pulling you close.

“Finally,” he whispers.

“Finally what?” you murmur into his chest.

“Finally just you and me.”

You lie in warm, sleepy silence until he speaks again.

“We can’t take moments like these for granted,” he says softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… everything’s going to change. Fast. Violently. Might be a week, might be a year—but it’s coming.”

You shift in his arms. “I know that.”

“Do you?” he asks.

“Yes, Teddy. I do. All too well. But it’s not here yet. So let’s take these nights for granted… while we still can.”

“I love you, alright?” he says.

“I love you too.” You smile. “At least we get to spend the summer together.”

He doesn’t reply. His hand covers his brow, and something heavy settles in his silence.

You lean up, studying him. “What?” you ask with a grin.

“Nothing,” he chuckles. “I just like when you look at me like that.”

You rest your head back on his chest, but sleep doesn’t come easily. Your mind spins with thoughts you wish you could ignore. You haven’t even met Him yet, but the fear is already setting in.

Still, you know three things:

One—you have to survive. You can’t let your parents lose another child to this war.

Two—Theo has to survive. You can’t imagine a world without him in it.

And three—either you and your friends will become the most powerful seventeen-year-olds Hogwarts has ever seen… or the most despised teenagers in wizarding history.

There’s no middle ground.

Which will it be?

...

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