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lovebotmo · 3 months

Text

like the movies

chapter five - late library nights

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1337

author's note: hello friends!!! it has almost been a month and i would like to offer my sincerest apologies!!!! i have entered my final semester of university so things have been rather hectic. i appreciate all the love you guys have given this series this far <3 thanks for being the absolute best. kiss kiss

also if i missed you for the taglist plz let me know!!! its been a min hehe

song inspiration: bewitched by laufey

Thanks to Lavender’s rather loose lips, the entire student body of Hogwarts seemed to be buzzing about your secret, not-so-secret admirer. Three days later and you could still hear the giggles of second-year girls as they discussed just who your mystery man could be steps behind you and your friends. You even had to endure a public love confession from both Fred and George, the red-headed twins bickering and quarreling over who loved you more in their newest prank. They both claimed to have been your secret admirer and demanded that you choose the twin you cared for more. It quickly devolved into a passionate, highly embarrassing competition that had the crowd which had slowly grown howling in laughter. George had even torn his shirt open, claiming that ‘the fires of love were burning within him and that clothes could not contain his ardent affection any longer.’ The whole affair might have been more comical had you not been its victim. Suffice to say you were adequately embarrassed, as if the burning blush on your face had not been enough evidence to that fact.

However, even with all the attention now placed on you and your secret admirer, no one had sincerely come forward to claim responsibility. You could hardly blame them, given the reactions of your fellow students. Still, you couldn’t help yourself grow more and more curious as days continued to pass without any additional clues.

“So…I hear you’ve got yourself a bit of an admirer, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned towards Theo to find a smirk resting smugly on his face. “Merlin, not you too, Theo. I swear it’s impossible to go ten minutes without someone mentioning it.”

Theo laughed at your response and the obvious annoyance in your expression. “Bit of a touchy subject?”

You sighed. “Sorry. It’s just—bloody hell, I’ve got loads of people coming up to me trying to chat about it and well, it’s a bit much.”

The tall Slytherin nodded as he scanned his Potions textbook, looking for the next set of directions for the Wolfsbane potion you were currently brewing. “I didn’t mean to pry, really—”

“No, no it’s all right. I’m just a bit on edge recently.” You and Theo both reached for the crushed moonstone, hands bumping clumsily into each other. “Sorry, ‘m all over the place today.”

Theo gave you a gentle smile before grasping the vial, gingerly adding it before meeting your eyes with his own. “S’all right. Besides, we both know it’s better if I handle things, considering I’m the better Potions student any—ow!” Theo rubbed his arm where you had lightly smacked him.

“Just because you beat me by one whole point on the last test doesn’t mean—”

“It means I am better than—Salazar, woman!” This time Theo rubbed his other arm which you may or may not have hit. “You’ve got to come up with a better comeback than physical assault. I could report you to Slughorn, you know.”

“Oh please, you’d never snitch on me, Theo. We’re potions partners after all—you’re stuck with me.”

A wide grin made its way onto Theo’s face, along with the faintest blush that he desperately hoped you couldn’t see in the dim lighting of the classroom. “Yeah, ‘spose I am.” Realizing he was looking at you in a bit of a daze, he cleared his throat. “I forgot to mention, Pucey’s set a last-minute quidditch practice for this afternoon. I know we’re meant to work on the project for anti-venoms, but is there any chance we could push it until later?”

“Tsk, tsk, Theodore. Choosing quidditch over Potions, eh? And you call yourself the best Potions student?” you teased. Theo let out a sharp laugh, dropping three murtlap tentacles into the cauldron bubbling before you. “That works for me, actually. Where did you want to meet?”

“I can catch up with you on the quidditch pitch. We can head over to the library from there.” Stirring the concoction clockwise, Theo looked at you from the corner of his eye, “Thanks for being flexible.”

“’Course. It’s what you would expect from the best Potions student, right?”

“Alright, pipe down.”

“You’re no fun, Theo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now hand me the wolfsbane leaves.”

“Only if you admit I’m the better Potions student.”

“Y/n.”

“…Here you go.”

Tugging at the sleeves of your sweater, you made your way towards the quidditch pitch, just as the sun was starting to set over the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. The practice had evidently just ended as players began to descend from the sky at the sound of Captain Adrian Pucey’s dismissal. Walking over, you saw Theo dismounting from his broom alongside Enzo. Upon spotting you, the pair walked over to greet you.

“Rough practice, huh?” The boys before you were out of breath, chests heaving with obvious exhaustion.

Enzo gave you a look, “You’ve no idea.” Beside him, Theo nodded in agreement.

“Pucey’s got his tail in a twist about the game this weekend against Gryffindor,” Theo said. “We can’t catch a break.” Theo grabbed the end of his practice jersey to wipe at the sweat on his brow, revealing a lean, toned abdomen. His tongue swiped quickly at his pink lips as he continued to breathe heavily. As he let go of his jersey, one of his hands went to run through his unruly curls and you couldn’t help but stare at the more than pleasant image before you.

Fucking hell…Godric save me.

As if sensing your train of thought, Enzo smirked, mirth dancing in his eyes.

The sound of Theo’s Italian accent broke your reverie. “I’ve got to hit the showers, so I’ll be ten minutes or so. You alright with waiting?”

Clutching your Potions textbook to your chest, you nodded, giving Enzo’s look of obvious amusement a glare. “’M fine. Go ahead.”

Theo flashed that wide grin of his that you were becoming fond of before trotting off to join the other players in the locker rooms. By now, Enzo’s grin had become a full-on beam.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Enzo—well, don’t think it.”

The Slytherin raised his hands in mock confusion. “What could you possibly mean, Y/n? I was just wondering—”

“Enzo, don’t make me hit you with this book.”

“Jeez, I guess Theo wasn’t lying when he said you were violent.”

“Hey!”

Hours later in the library, you swore words were beginning to dance off the pages of the endless tomes you and Theo had been rummaging through for your upcoming project. Beside you, Theo seemed to feel the same exhaustion, groaning as his forehead dropped onto one of the thick volumes.

Grasping your quill, you gently brushed the feather by Theo’s ear to grasp his attention. Still faceplanted in a book, the tired boy simply turned his head towards you rather than sitting upright.

“I reckon we call it a night, yeah?” Theo’s curls shook as he nodded his head, eyes beginning to droop in exhaustion. “You’ve probably got to be up early for the game tomorrow too.” Your Potions partner glared at you for the reminder before finally sitting up.

You began to tidy up the sprawled-out texts before Theo broke the quiet resting over the library. “You going?”

Turning to look at him, you paused, “Going to what?”

Theo laughed softly, “The game, Y/n.”

“Oh.” You grinned sheepishly, “I don’t know. Hadn’t decided yet.”

Theo hummed at your response. Moving sluggishly, he began to help you pack up.

“Well…you should go. It’s supposed to be a good one.” You met Theo’s eyes that were already peering into yours.

“You want me to go, huh? To show off or something?”

Theo laughed at you, gently flicking one of your hands reaching for a stray quill. “Or something.”

You smiled, “Well, if you want me there, I’m there.”

Having finished packing up, Theo stood in front of you and mirrored your grin. “Well, I do…want you there, that is.”

Walking out of the library together, you gently bumped the taller boy’s shoulder. “Then, I’m there.”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7, @adoraspace, @spencerreidsthings, @crimsntwlip, @readingthingsonhere, @sbrn0905, @violet2022, @aemiliazzz, & @hoeforvinniehackerrr

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lovebotmo · 4 months

Text

like the movies

chapter four - the feathered visitor

series masterlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 1675

author's note: so so grateful that you guys are enjoying the story so far!!! its been incredible to be inspired and motivated when it comes to writing. i appreciate those who let me know they want to be on the taglist - lmk if anyone else wants to be added!!!

also if i missed someone my apologies!!! first time putting a tag list together hehe

song inspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) by marvin gaye

Clambering into the compartment containing your friends after separating from Theo, you are greeted with expectant silence. Ten eyes peer at you with varying emotions; curiosity, caution, surprise, excitement, and intrigue all seem to swim in the faces of your dear friends.

Slapping your hands onto your knees, you smile nervously at them. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t keep us waiting!” urges Hannah, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. “What was that all about? Running after Nott of all people.”

Your brows furrow unconsciously, “What d’you mean?”

Ginny laughs at your apparent confusion. “Nuh uh, Y/n. We all saw you go after Nott, no need to be coy now.” She winks cheekily at you. “Are you two seeing each other?”

You sputter at her brashness, “Me and Theo? There’s—”

“It’s Theo now, is it?” Padma asks. “When did he become Theo, eh?” Padma nudges your shoulder with her own.

“Oh, shove it, Pads!” You could practically feel the red rising in your face and neck at the undivided attention now being paid to your very short, tiny, essentially minimal interaction with a male specimen. You felt like a research subject whenever your friends interrogated you like this. “I was just worried Theo was going to miss the train—a very normal thing to be worried about considering he’s my potion partner and I bloody well can’t use his brain if he’s stranded in Hogsmeade! Besides,” you said, pulling at the sleeves of your wooly sweater, “that fight between Malfoy and him looked downright awful.” At that, the girls abruptly halted their aggressive probing, uneasily remembering the spat that had taken place very publicly in The Three Broomsticks. All, except for Luna, who continued to peer at you with that typical all-knowing, dreamy look of hers that seemed to suggest she knew better.

As if there’s anything going on between Theo and me. I barely know the guy…or almost barely know him…kind of know him?

Shaking the disorganized thoughts from your head, you turned to the girls to continue the conversation that had abruptly stopped at the tavern. A train ride filled with trolley sweets, gossip, and uncontrollable laughter soon led to your arrival at Hogwarts, just in time for the evening meal.

Retiring to your room shortly after dinner, you found that your housemates’ beds were empty. You guess that they were likely meandering around the grounds before curfew. You savored the silence and stillness of the room. However, all too soon, it was interrupted by an odd sort of sound.

Clink.

At first you ignored it, thinking something had just shifted in your room.

Clink…Clink.

This time, your eyes swept across the room, searching for whatever could be causing that sound. It didn’t sound like a water drip, someone in heels, or even coins moving around in a coin purse.

Clinkclinkclinkclink!

As the sound increased in volume and frequency, you realized it was coming from the window of all places, even though you were elevated relatively high in the tower containing your bedchamber. That is to say, no person could have been outside your room without the aid of a broom or the flying charm. You cursed under your breathe that the window was glazed, meaning you couldn’t see what lay on the other side. Undergoing a momentary crisis of whether you should open the window, you decided in a split-second to just open it and hope for the best. However, you made sure to grab your wand.

Can’t be too careful now, can we, Y/n?

Your hand grasped at the brass handle, quickly swinging the frame open. An autumnal evening gust of wind greeted you, along with something else.

What the fuck.

Perching on your windowsill, was a quaint tawny owl peering at you rather oddly. The bird cocked its brown and white feathered head as you did the same.

What the devil is a bloody owl doing up here? “I don’t suppose you intended to come up here, did you?” Looking at the owl, you noticed it was clutching something in its claws, a small parcel of sorts. “Is that for me?”

As if answering, the owl flew past you and landed on your desk. Its head cocked once more as if wondering whether you were going to join it or not. Realizing you were standing dumbly in front of the window and letting all the warm air out, you shut it. You did not lock it, however, anticipating that your feathered friend would be departing shortly.

You joined the owl at your desk, sitting in your chair. You were now eye level with the mysterious bird, its dark eyes gazing into your own.

“May I?” you inquired, gesturing towards the little package in its clutches. The fowl relented, gently releasing it onto the wood of your desk. Before allowing yourself to rip into the bundle, you pulled out a small cannister of crickets you kept in one of your desk drawers for when you visited your own owl in the aviary. Lightly placing it in front of the owl, you allowed it to treat itself while opening the unknown gift.

Inside, you found a small package of caramel creams, just like those you had gifted to Mr. Flume a few short hours ago.

“How…?” You looked to the bird who was still pleasing itself with your offering of crickets.

You couldn’t begin to wonder at who would have known to gift you that particular candy, who would have noticed your quick interaction among the thick throng of students that had filled Honeydukes earlier. No one had stood out to you in the little time you had spent in the candy store, wholly preoccupied with your candy exchange.

Where could they have even bought it from? It’s not like Mr. Flume even stocks this specific sweet, no matter how much I may beg the man to.

“You must have been flying for ages to bring these to me, I reckon.”

“Hoot.”

Laughing at the short, clipped response of the owl, your eyes noticed a small piece of parchment paper within the parcel. Grasping and opening it quickly, your eyes were met with the same script you had seen on the previous note that had accompanied the moly bouquet currently residing on your nightstand. Once more, the note was succinct and saccharine.

Y/n,

Sweets for you, sweetheart.

Yours,

Teddy

“Seems your owner fancies me,” you said to the owl as you carefully refolded the note. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give me a clue as to who they are?”

“Hoot.”

Sighing, you replied, “Alright, alright. I won’t badger you for answers.” You rose from your chair, intending to allow the plumed messenger to return to the aviary. The bird flew from its perch on your desk to your shoulder, its head gently rubbing against your cheek. You smiled at the little show of affection. Once more, you opened your window, allowing your avian visitor to rejoin the skies. Looking back at the caramel creams and clutching the note to your chest, a warm feeling began to leak out of your heart. Whoever your admirer was, he was rather…sweet.

A few caramel creams later, you were sprawled on your bed and surrounded by your friends as you recounted the entire rendezvous with the tawny owl. You shared the sweets among your friends, but you kept the contents of the note to yourself. Your friends had already seen the first note and none of them had recognized the handwriting. There was no harm done, really.

Besides, you thought, it’s kind of nice to keep something between just me and this elusive ‘Teddy.’

“You didn’t recognize the owl, did you?” asked Ginny. “Godric knows everybody can tell when I’ve sent an owl. That bloody bird, Errol, is hard to miss.” She gives you a vexed look that makes you chuckle.

“No, it looked like any other owl I’d have seen in the aviary. Anyway, there are hundreds of owls here, they’re not exactly easy to differentiate.”

“Well,” Padma says, “at the very least, we know that your little admirer is a third year or older.”

Hannah’s face shows her confusion, “How do you figure?”

“They were in Honeydukes, weren’t they?” Padma shrugs, “Whoever he is, he has to be, at minimum, thirteen years old to go to Hogsmeade.”

Groaning, you flop back onto your bed, hands covering your face in dismay. “Blimey, I hadn’t even considered it might be someone younger than me. What if it is a third year? Fucking hell, I’ll never be able to live it down.”

Moving your hands from your face, Hermione smiles gently at you. “If it is a third year, which I seriously doubt, you’ll be gentle in letting them down. No big deal.”

“I’d be a laughingstock, ‘Mione,” you say grumpily.

“No, you won’t, Y/n,” replies Hannah. “Besides, it’s just the six of us that knows, right?”

“About that…” Ginny looks at you sheepishly. “I may or may not have possibly, accidentally let it slip when I was perhaps…potentially talking with Lavender…”

The redhead’s confession gets you to shoot up quickly from your horizontal position. “You did what?” You toss at a pillow at her, which, with her incredible athleticism, she easily intercepts. You frown. “Lavender is possibly the worst gossip I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if Filch didn’t know about it.”

“It was an accident, promise!” Ginny exclaims, “Lavender asked if you were seeing anybody—I think she’s interested in Lee Jordan—so, I suppose she was trying to determine whether or not you were—”

“Ginny.”

“…Yes, Y/n?”

“I’m going to give you until the count of three.”

“Count of three—what for?”

“One.”

“Oh please, Y/n. I didn’t mean to—”

“Two.”

“For the love of Merlin—”

“Three.” At your last count, you sprint at the girl who starts to run from you as you chase her with your wand. She sharts to shriek with laughter, dashing as far from your incurrent wrath as possible.

“You’re going to get it, Weasley!”

taglist: @melllinaa, @randomgurl2326, @lovelyygirl8, @abaker74, @mypolicemanharryyy, @vanevafu, @laceandsuch, @agent-tempest, @themarauderswife7 & @adoraspace

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