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dark!jason and dark!dick kidnapping you…

[wikipikis-blog]

Forbidden Love.

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Pairings : Theodore Nott x GN! Reader

Summary : He fell inlove with a ravenclaw, but hes a pure-blood and you're a muggleborn.

A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

Warnings) : Angst

Word count : 1196

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Theodore Nott had always been the quiet type. The son of a Death Eater, his childhood had been filled with dark whispers and a looming sense of dread. He preferred the solace of the Slytherin common room's shadows and the comfort of dusty old tomes. It was safer to blend into the background, to remain unnoticed. But then, there was you. You, with your Muggle-born heritage and Ravenclaw wit, had a light that drew him from the shadows despite himself. Theodore first noticed you in the library. You were tucked away in a corner, surrounded by a fortress of books. Your brow furrowed in concentration, occasionally chewing on the end of your quill. He had come to retrieve a book on advanced potion-making but found himself lingering, pretending to search for another.

He couldn't help but watch as you read. You seemed to devour knowledge with an insatiable hunger, flipping pages with an eagerness that was almost infectious. When you finally glanced up and met his eyes, he felt an uncharacteristic flush of heat. He quickly averted his gaze, heart pounding in his chest. Days turned into weeks, and Theodore found himself drawn to the library more often than ever before. Each time, he would find you there, and each time, he would steal glances. He learned your habits – how you liked to read in the mornings, how you tapped your foot when you were deep in thought, how your eyes sparkled when you found something particularly interesting.

One day, you caught him staring again. This time, you didn't look away. Instead, you smiled – a small, tentative smile that sent a jolt through him.

"Do you need something?" you asked, your voice gentle but curious.

Theodore opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure why he was there, lingering in your presence. He shook his head and managed a mumbled, "No."

You tilted your head, studying him with those keen Ravenclaw eyes. "Are you sure? You've been standing there for a while."

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks again. "I was just… looking for a book."

Your smile widened, and you gestured to the stack in front of you. "Well, there's plenty here. What are you looking for?" It was a simple question, but it felt like a lifeline. He approached cautiously, and you scooted over to make room for him. He glanced at the titles in your pile – books on ancient runes, magical theory, and Muggle literature. An eclectic mix, much like you.

"Advanced Potion-Making," he said quietly.

You nodded and reached for a book from your fortress. "Here. I've already read it. It's quite good."

He took the book from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "Thank you."

From that day on, an unspoken understanding formed between you. Theodore would sit near you in the library, sometimes even sharing a table. You would offer him books and insights, and he would listen, absorbing your words like a parched man at an oasis. He found himself opening up, sharing thoughts he had kept hidden for years. You became friends. Secretly, quietly, but undeniably. And slowly, imperceptibly, Theodore found himself falling for you.

But he knew it couldn't last. The divide between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, pureblood and Muggle-born, was too vast. The expectations of his house and the lingering influence of his father were chains he couldn't break. Every stolen moment with you was a reminder of the impending heartbreak.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you both found yourselves alone in the library. The warm glow of the setting sun cast long shadows across the room, bathing everything in a soft, golden light. You were engrossed in a book about Muggle technology, your eyes alight with curiosity.

"Theodore," you said, looking up suddenly. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like to live in the Muggle world?"

He blinked, taken aback. "Not really," he admitted. "Why?"

You shrugged, a wistful smile on your lips. "I just think it's fascinating. So different from what we're used to. I'd love to see it someday."

He swallowed hard, the weight of reality crashing down on him. He couldn't keep pretending. Not anymore. "You know we can't… be like this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at him, confusion and hurt mingling in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

He closed his eyes, trying to gather the strength to say what needed to be said. "You and me. It's… it's not possible."

"Why not?" Your voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, a challenge.

He opened his eyes and met your gaze, his heart aching. "Because I'm a Slytherin. Because I'm supposed to be a pureblood. Because my father would never allow it."

You stood, the book slipping from your fingers. "I thought you were different, Theodore. I thought you saw me for who I am, not what I am."

"I do," he said desperately. "But it's not that simple. There are… expectations. Traditions."

"Traditions," you repeated, bitterness creeping into your tone. "So you're just going to follow them blindly? Let them dictate your life?"

He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell you that he would fight for you, that you were worth breaking all the rules. But the fear, the years of indoctrination, held him back. "I don't have a choice."

Tears welled in your eyes, and you turned away. "Everyone has a choice, Theodore. You just made yours."

He watched helplessly as you gathered your things and walked out of the library, the door closing behind you with a finality that echoed through the empty room.

Theodore sank into his chair, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He had let you go. The one person who had seen him, truly seen him, beyond the shadows of his house and his heritage. And now, he was alone again, more isolated than ever.

As the days turned into weeks, the void you left behind grew deeper. He saw you around the school, always with a group of friends, always with that same light in your eyes. But now, it was a light he could no longer reach, no longer share. And every time he saw you, his heart ached with the knowledge of what could have been. What should have been, if only he had been brave enough to defy the expectations, to choose you over the chains of tradition.

In the end, Theodore Nott remained a silent figure in the shadows, watching as you moved on, your life filled with the promise of a future he could never be a part of. The regret was a constant, gnawing presence, a reminder of the love he had lost and the choices he had made. The library was no longer a sanctuary, but a place of haunting memories. Each corner held a ghost of you, a whisper of your laughter, a trace of your smile. And Theodore knew that he would carry the weight of his decision for the rest of his life, a silent penance for the love he had let slip away.

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