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the-secret-keeper · 3 months ago

Text

Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland

This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.

Part 2 with the Dateables out now! (Characters included: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke)

TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares

Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.

Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Could be read as romantic or platonic

This will be long, so the stories under the cut

This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!

First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.

And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.

You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.

Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.

Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.

Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.

Lucifer:

You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.

"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.

"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.

"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.

"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.

"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.

"Thank you."

A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.

It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.

"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."

"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.

"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.

"Like what?"

"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."

"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.

"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."

"Overblots?"

"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."

"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."

"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.

Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.

"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"

Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.

"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."

He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.

"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."

He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.

No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.

Mammon:

You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.

It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.

Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.

You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.

"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.

"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.

"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.

"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."

"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.

"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."

"Really?"

His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.

"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."

"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."

"Grim?"

"My cat."

"Ya sound like Satan."

"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.

"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.

Leviathan:

Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.

"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."

"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.

"You do?!" He asked excitedly.

"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."

"Really? Tell me more!"

"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.

"You couldn't?"

"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."

"That seems... dumb. To say the least."

"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.

"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."

"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.

"He was an otaku too?"

"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."

"Better than me?"

"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.

"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.

"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."

"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."

"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.

He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.

Asmodeus:

Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.

He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.

You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.

He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.

"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.

"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.

"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"

"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."

"Interesting man? Interesting how?"

"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."

"Anything else I should know about this person?"

"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."

"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.

"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.

"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."

"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."

"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."

"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."

"Run down?"

"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.

"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."

"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."

"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.

There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.

He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.

Satan:

Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.

You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.

You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.

"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."

"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.

"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."

"Oh." Satan almost groaned.

"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."

"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"

"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."

"I thought you said you were a student?"

"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."

A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?

He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.

It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.

"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.

"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.

"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.

"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.

"Take your time."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."

"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."

"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.

"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."

"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."

"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.

"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.

With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.

After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.

"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."

"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."

"It was that bad?"

"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.

Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.

If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.

"Was it just you?"

"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."

"You were hated?"

"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."

"Was your old headmaster that bad?"

"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."

"That sounds awful."

"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."

"I wish you would've told us."

"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.

"Spelldrive?"

"Yeah!"

As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.

Belphegor:

Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.

It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.

He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.

But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.

Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.

"You need to wake up."

You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Wake! UP!" He commanded.

You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.

You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.

"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."

"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"

"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."

"And your cat?"

"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."

"How long have you had these nightmares?"

"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."

"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.

"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.

"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"

"I do."

He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.

He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.

But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.

"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.

"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.

You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.

929 notes · View notes

angelfic · 1 year ago

Text

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott smut #theodore nott

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