AU-Time Playing. Harry started Hogwarts at 15 years old INSTEAD of 11, so he is 21 when Ron is thinking back on things and they all completed their 7th year. I've royally ruined canon in my usual way. Enjoy
AU. Slash. Ron wasn't sure just how well this whole Harry dating a Slytherin thing would work out. Hermione was convinced it was a sham, but Charlie said you know it's love when you're not afraid to indulge in seven cardinal somethings. Ron didn't know much, but he was pretty sure they'd done that. TheoxHarry pairing from Ron's POV.
MAIN PAIRING: Harry Potter x Theodore Nott
Side Pairings: Cho Chang x Romilda Vane, Ron x Hermione, Blaise Zabini x Draco Malfoy, Viktor Krum x Luna Lovegood
I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with her characters in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.
M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16. (to be safe.)
Author's Notes: This is one of my TheodorexHarry oneshots that I finally finished the other day. Those of you following my RL updates know that my Aunty died today. I needed to write, but I had no idea how it would come out, so I chose to put that productive energy into a one shot.
Zakayla, this one is for you, my fellow Theorry fan. ;) Enjoy.
WARNINGS: Mature themes. Contains mentions of slash(m/m), moments/mentions of femslash(f/f), and Het (m/f). There are no explicit scenes as per FF guidelines. Mild mentions of gore/torture. Fluff. Humor(I fail quite nicely at humor). OOCness. Very AU. Canon events are all scrambled up. Other warnings will be added if necessary.
Ron wasn't quite sure when the Knut dropped. He'd been working on Hermione for some time now, to see if he could bring her to accept the most unusual pairing he'd ever expected for his best friend.
Of course, Harry was Harry and that meant that he was Harry Potter, the-Boy-Who-Couldn't-Do-Things-By-Halves and that included his love life as well. Instead of accepting any of the lovely, powerful witches vying for his attention, Harry went straight for the cold, aloof, invisible Slytherin by the name of Theodore Nott Jr.
It had taken three weeks for Ron to convince himself he'd been seeing things and by then, of course, he'd run into them again and couldn't deny it any longer. Hermione simply chose to ignore them as a matter of course, vehemently insisting that there was no proof of real love between them.
In her esteemed opinion, the lack of visible, true affection, meant that Harry was going through a phase and that it would be over, given enough time.
Ron wasn't entirely convinced, see, he'd once had a conversation with Charlie that something to do with cardinal sins, a bit of dirty talk he'd picked up from his lover of the month, a beautiful Romanian witch who was likely to become more than friends seeing as how they'd finally reached the point where it was love and not lust.
He'd asked how you would know—Ron to Charlie, that is. He'd asked Charlie how he could be sure it would be love.
His dragon tamer brother had ruffled his hair, laughed, then told him what to look for.
Whenever Theo or Harry walked into the room, that was certainly a prime example. They didn't need anything specific to start each other off; apparently just being in close proximity did the trick.
If Harry arrived first and waltzed in with the media in a frenzy over the boy savior, then Theo would turn up, slinking along the corners with his dark brown eyes glittering with meaning.
They would dance around each other either literally, figuratively or quite seductively, ending always in one or the other, being dragged from the room, with knowing, matching smirks on their faces.
Ron had never wanted to know happened after they got past the doors. He just pretended that it didn't happen. It was better that way.
Except for that time when he'd borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak to sneak to the kitchen and hadn't thought anything of Harry's bed being empty. He'd changed his mind about the midnight snack when he'd seen whipped cream, strawberries and chocolate syrup being painted over a very well-defined stomach belonging to one Theodore Nott Jr.
And then there was the laughter.
The low, sexy kind of laughter that Theo saved only for Harry.
It made shivers and goosebumps stand up and dance on Ron when the laughter prompted the kind of response he only wanted from staring at Hermione. It would haunt him for the entirety of his school years. It certainly didn't help that Theo's dirty talk was followed by Harry's enthusiastic whispers of approval.
Harry should not have a voice like that either.
Ron had changed his mind about snacks after that. He'd turned on his heel and all but flown back to bed. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to sneak off for a snack again, not if it meant stumbling over this particular pair.
He wished they'd been using the cloak instead.
Theo ate quite a bit. For a skinny Slytherin that hardly seemed able to fill out his uniform, the dark-eyed brunet could always be found eating something or the other. He had chocolate frogs in his pockets and fudge in a kercheif—Ron was sure they were endlessly charmed—and treacle tart made a regular appearance as well, once Theo knew they were Harry's favorite. He was almost a walking candy store.
For Harry who often sacrificed his food for the sake of his whale of a cousin, , Theo now supplied him with a generous bounty of wizarding fare—in typical pureblood excess.
So. Much. Excess!
Ron had stared, slaw-jawed when Theo had handed over a small charmed hamper for the ride back on the Hogwart's Express. Harry was still taking things out of it when they'd reached platform 9 ¾ and he still hadn't found what he'd been searching for.
Of course, he hadn't wanted to waste the food—pumpkin pasties, little meat pies and such—so he'd handed them out to the firsties as they disembarked, complaining about Theo's inability to properly compartmentalize things.
Ron had meekly accepted twelve treacle tarts, four fruit tarts, three muffins and two meat pies. He didn't dare refuse them. Hermione glared at him all the way off the train.
"Mm, but Harry-love, I want it." Theo's sultry purr spelled doom for the unfortunate bookstore owner.
Said owner probably shouldn't have made such a stink about allowing Slytherin shoppers in his place of business. Especially when that Slytherin happened to be the lover of a certain, famous Harry Potter and especially when they had only wanted one book and it was mostly grey and mostly 'not dark'.
The flustered manager should have been paying attention. Now, nothing he said would fall on open ears as he babbled apologies and made discounted offers. It didn't matter anymore because neither Theo nor Harry was actually listening.
It didn't help that Harry all but turned into a puddle of goo when he heard that voice. "A whole bookstore, my cunning?" He'd teased. "You'll turn into a swot."
Theo had merely snuggled up to him, hugging the wizarding savior from behind, with an adorable pout on his face. "Your precious swot." He corrected. "You know I like to read." He splayed his fingers possessively over Harry's clothed torso. "You can say it's for my six-month anniversary present…"
"True." Harry grinned adoringly and turned sharp emerald eyes on the trembling shopkeeper. If his Theo wanted a bookstore, his Theo would have a bookstore. "How much?"
The manager whimpered as the clerk burst into tears and the shopkeeper-owner mopped his brow with a kerchief.
The green eyed gaze did not wave.
The shopkeeper-owner held up three fingers.
The flint-eyed glare from Theo—just behind Harry—made that third finger waver and curl down to two. Theo smiled sweetly and pressed a nibbling kiss to Harry's neck, tugging at the stiff collar of his robes. "You spoil me so…" He hummed, contentedly.
Ron wondered if they'd offer Hermione the position of manager before the day was through.
As it was, Theo and Harry were so well matched that it seemed as if there was very little; possibility for things such as jealousy and envy and whatever else came between those two.
See, when McGonagall insisted that Harry take a female escort to the Yule Ball, Harry had decided to take the easy way out and ask Cho. He turned up with the pretty, Ravenclaw witch, who said she'd had her girlfriend's permission to take Harry to the ball.
She hadn't told Harry that Theo was taking her girlfriend—which was the only reason she was free to escort him in the first place.
When the suave Slytherin turned up with Romilda Vane on his arm, looking every inch a prince—more so than the Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy himself and his Italian lover—tongues began to wag.
Harry danced a little closer and friendlier with Cho—because of her quick light feet being able to disguise the fact that he was pants at dancing. Theo danced beautifully and seductively with Romilda-because she was just the right height and never even dared to think of stepping on his pureblood toes.
Somehow the dancing was more than it was supposed to be and when McGonagall made that comment about how it was time they 'saw the light' and that started Harry off on the wrong foot. Then Harry happened to see Theo bringing Romilda a sparkling glass of punch and laughing at her witty remarks that were supposed to be vapid and girly and that was that.
He retaliated by showing off Cho and that led from one thing to another thing and then it got out of hand.
By the end of the night, there were so many rumors flying in so many different directions that it ended when Harry heard a particularly nasty bit of news from Lavender Brown. He'd then politely excused himself; stole the drink Viktor had been taking to Luna and stomped over to throw it in Theo's face.
In a remarkable show of restraint, Theo said and did absolutely nothing while Harry reamed him out in an incredible display of Gryffindor temper.
Then, with the grace and arrogance of a well-cultivated Slytherin, Theo simply upended his own drink on Harry's red, snarling face and calmly proclaimed.
"You forgot to take your potions again, didn't you, Harry-love? You know how cranky you can be at this time of month."
The silence in the room was punctuated by Harry's unintelligible shriek and the sound of Theo being tackled to the floor. Theo's dark laughter did not help matters any when he rolled them over and smirked down at his prey. A somewhat punch-drunk Harry struggled ineffectively against the full-body hold when Theo leaned down to bite his ear and whisper into it.
Thanks to Dobby's quick sleight of hand, the angry make-up sex did not take place in front of the student body.
"Theo, can you do my homework?"
The sleepy Slytherin reluctantly opened one eye to peer up at Harry from his unique vantage point-Harry's lap. "Why?" He groused.
"Because the sooner it's done, the sooner I can cuddle with you?"
"...I don't cuddle."
Harry stifled the urge to roll his eyes at the contradictory statement in relation to Theo's current 'cuddling' position. "Alright, if I gave you a chocolate frog for-"
"You're in my lap."
Harry sighed. "Good point." He poked Theo in the side, ignoring the dark glower. "Scoot up a bit more so I can use your stomach. I need a flat surface to write on."
Theo sniffed. "I am not your personal furniture-"
Harry produced a chocolate frog from seemingly out of nowhere. He waved it under Theo's nose.
The Slytherin shot him a look of pure disbelief mixed with long-suffering. He grumpily rearranged himself to use the arm on the settee for a pillow, reclining enough for Harry to have room to do said homework. "You'd better have more than one."
Complete horror flitted across Harry's face. "More than one?" He sputtered. "For what?"
"Every minute I am forced to be your living, breathing-"
"Theodore!" Harry gaped at him for a moment, then snatched up his wand from the corner table. He banished his clothes piece by piece, a sudden determined look on his face.
Theo's bleary eyes blinked twice and focused, a flicker of interest showing in the way he roused himself from resting to fully-awake. "Yes, Harry-love?"
Harry traced his wand down the side of Theo's collar. "Do my homework-please?"
Those wicked slender hands reached up to yank him down for a proper snog. "I think," Theo murmured, between breaths. "I can manage that." He took Harry's wand from his hand and waved an altered duplicating charm to copy his homework. "Now then, where to start?"
Theo was every inch the Slytherin that his house proclaimed. Harry was every inch the Gryffindor in the same way. But while Harry's fierce, lion-like instincts saved them over and over again, once in a while; Theo's serpentine charm came out as well.
See, one thing Ron had learned was that Harry was an alright bloke. They might have a fight and stop speaking to each other and all that, but in the end, they were friends and everything was alright again.
Not so with Theo.
See, with Theo, he had no qualms of cutting off a friendship, severing social ties and making a public mockery of something that insulted him. He was not bright, bold and scorching in the way that Harry was, when he displayed his anger.
No, Theo was like ice, silent, creeping and utterly destructive in the way that it could wear away at a bit of rock until it cracked in half. A deliciously unhurried burn with guaranteed destruction.
If Ron had to choose on instance where this was quite clear, then he would definitely think of the time when a certain mad Bellatrix LeStrange had shoved Sirius Black through the veil. Theo had arrived with reinforcements scant seconds too late.
He'd taken in their stricken expressions and then demanded Harry's whereabouts. Without a second thought, he'd chased after his lover and saw him try and fail to cast a cruico.
Ron had hurried after him, knowing that Harry would need the support—whether as a fighter or a friend—and he'd seen true terror that day.
When Bellatrix's giggly taunts echoed in the near empty lobby, it was too loud to ignore. Distraught in more ways than one, Harry tried and failed again to cast an unforgiveable, just as Theo came through. He swatted Harry's arm downward and gave him a look that Ron had never seen directed to his own lover before.
Then Theo's rich chocolate eyes had gone completely pitch black and he'd snapped out his wand hand with a barely-hissed, "Cruico!" that left Bellatrix screaming and writhing on the floor.
By the time an exhausted—magically and emotionally—Harry had caught up to the happening, he'd been a second too late to stop Theo's revenge. Bellatrix ended up worse than the Longbottoms when it was over.
It was poetic justice.
Dumbledore came racing through the doors then and he sent a stunning jinx at Theo before he understood the proper context. Harry dashed to his lover's side, frantically casting healing and diagnostic spells, and because he was sure he'd heard something break when Theo had fallen.
And then the glamour fell off.
Theo had been somewhere else before he showed up with reinforcements.
Ron didn't want to think of where or why.
But then Voldemort had shown up and everything went downhill from there, when Harry was too preoccupied to pay him the attention he felt he was due. It was only when one spell had nearly sent debris crashing down on Theo's shivering form, that Harry stood up, a human-wizard shield before his Theo.
In the following battle, Ron saw something he wasn't prepared to see at all.
The duel that took place would never be recorded or retold to anyone who was not present to witness it.
The one-sided fight began simply when Voldemort made use of a certain connection between Harry and himself.
Ron was helpless to do anything, but watch, as history and destiny danced before them all. It happened in a blur—and Theo would never admit that he'd been the one to do the deed. He'd gallantly given all the credit to Harry in exchange for a life-sized chocolate something or the other that Ron really didn't want to know about.
Quite frankly, he didn't really believe it himself.
It started with Harry screaming his head off when the horocrux was burned out of his very being. Dumbledore frantically was trying to keep the dark, black magic from seeping into the structure of the MOM and thus, leaving a permanent mark on a very potent, prime spot of wizarding real estate and one Theodore Nott Jr. finally releasing his temper.
Hermione had to pull Ron off to the side and cast a shield over them both when there was simply so much debris swirling through the air that there was no way anyone would be walking out of there uninjured.
Voldemort laughed as he had Harry clawing at the floor and incoherent against the torrent of evil and pain.
And then Theodore had stood up.
The battered, bruised and bloody, wizard rose to his feet, with determination in his eyes and nothing but ruthlessness in his soul. He muttered words beneath his breath that Ron had never heard and made Hermione cover her mouth with both hands—forcing Lupin to include them in his shield.
Dumbledore's water spell was nearly neutralized by the fire spell of protection that Voldemort conjured around himself and Harry. He batted away the other spells as if they were nothing but annoying flies buzzing about his head.
People screamed for Harry to hold on and Ginny was hysterical, demanding that McGonagall do something other than hit her with a body bind to keep her safely out of range.
The Aurors couldn't interfere; they were too busy with the Death Eaters.
And that's where Theo came in.
Whatever spell he'd been crafting sent a frigid wind slicing through the entire lobby, icing over the corners and dropping the temperature to shiver-worthy levels. Magic, pure, raw and undiluted crackled to life, seeping out from the floor and slithering over to one very ticked off wizard.
Cuts, scrapes and blood healed and vanished as Theo walked right up to the most feared madman of his time and hissed Avada Kedavra! Before plunging his hand through that slimy body and squeezing the life from that cursed heart.
By the time Voldemort registered what had happened and how, his body crumbled to ash and burst into flickers of flame. Theo held a blackened, dripping, glob of a heart in his hand and he smiled a smile, so dark and heartless that Ron would never forget it.
Because that horrifying expression and that open display of raw, uncontrolled power wasn't something that could even been attributed to Dumbledore himself. He'd only ever seen Harry do that—once—when he'd learned that Ginny had been possessed by the wretched diary.
He had no idea that Theo was capable of the same.
He didn't think anyone had known that Theo was capable of the same.
Then Hermione made a squeaking sound behind her hands and Ron turned to her, hoping he didn't look as rattled at he felt and asking "Are you okay, Hermione?" while really meaning would you please explain what just happened here?
"He loves him." The bushy-haired witch blushed a deep, furious red. She licked at a cut on her lip and the sight of her pink tongue tentatively poking out of her mouth, did things to Ron that he would have her remedy soon.
"It's a spell." Hermione explained. "Harry told me about it, when he'd summoned up the power to save Ginny—to break the diary's curse." She gave him a teary smile. "I was so wrong about them. He really loves him—they really love each other."
Ron tried to fold his arms over his chest and winced when his broken wand poked him in the side. Bollocks. He'd have to see about buying a new one—again!
"That spell requires true love." Hermione's pained smile became more beautiful with each passing second. "A fierce, encompassing, uncompromising urge to help, heal, protect or hurt whatever has dared touch your beloved. You have to be pure of heart and with only honest intention when you cast it." She sniffled. "Harry considers you his best friend, that's why it worked when he cast it to save Ginny on your behalf."
Ron sucked in a breath. "And Theo cast it…to save Harry…on his own…"
So, perhaps the whole idea of cardinal sins and whatever was a bit much for Ron's redheaded self to make much sense of. But he understood the underlying sentiment much later when he finally lay in bed, curled up around Hermione.
A Gryffindor lion could only be tamed with a Slytherin snake for a collar.
For all that Harry's loyalty, power and vibrance was, Theo's silent, steady, strong support kept him right where he needed to be. They were too perfect together because that's what their version of perfection was.
And perhaps those frequent displays of those seven cardinal things were just their complicated way of demonstrating their affection.
As long as he didn't have to see them, he'd be fine. After all, there were some things that once seen, could never be unseen.
The image of Harry's grateful, enthusiastic victory snog, for one.
Ron swallowed hard, his face growing warm.
A/N: Just some Theo and Harry for the moment. Yes, they are all older in this fic. Everyone started Hogwarts at age 15. Thanks for reading.