A Non-Date
Theo was looking through the window glass, observing the clear sky, head full of thoughts. As always, insomnia had trapped his body and mind, leaving the quiet boy restless and jittery. However, he couldn’t leave his dorm anymore, since he was afraid he would be caught by Hermione at some point. She could be really terrifying when she wanted to. The witch had scolded him harshly last time and had forced him to drink a sleep inducing potion. Merlin, Theo hated the taste of it, but he had to admit it worked amazingly. Never felt so rested in weeks !
One of his hands was idly tracing abstract figures on the misty glass, feeling the cold outside biting his fingers’ tip.
“I thought you didn’t like Astronomy.”
Theo jumped, startled. He half turned around and noted Harry’s presence, his well worn lopsided grin and his madly tousled hair. Since Hogsmeade, they had been in a…. weird place. Well, mostly him to be honest. Their moment in the library had been really intense and intimate? Which had greatly perturbed Theo and caused him to ask his best friend about what the hell it could be. He had ruled out the curse theory, but not a possible potion he had inadvertently swallowed.
The only response he got from Blaise was an enchanted parchment that played out his annoying loud laugh for four fucking minutes. Very Blaise, but not really helpful… And now Theo didn’t know how to behave any time Harry got too close (and the boy was really pushing past the word tactile). He would suddenly become hot, nervous and agitated. Sometimes his cheeks would even flush, his fingers fidget and his throat tighten. Never had he heard about something that could provoke all these symptoms at the same time.
He had considered a simple illness, but it only happened when Harry was in his periphery. He hadn’t talked about these strange reactions with anyone except Blaise for fear of what they would say. So, every time it occurred, Theo would tense and suffer through whatever that was, experiencing more bravery than he ever had in one lifetime.
Coming back to reality, he briefly nodded to his friend and subtly moved away from the furnace that was Harry’s body (very hot indeed). “As a subject, yes, but as a simple night of stargazing, there’s no prettier way to pass time.”
Harry tilted his head, curious. He approached the window, yawning and scratching his chest. He looked so… soft (and cuddly, but that wasn’t relevant) in his red pajamas, the mark of his sheets adorning his cheeks.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, not looking in Theo’s way, slowly retracing the contour of the drawings on the glass.
Theo scrunched up his nose, intrigued. If he got out with Harry, he was surely less likely to be reprimanded, no? “What do you propose?”
“I might have an idea. There’s this place I want to show you.” He turned to his friend, fully smiling, but then, seemingly realizing something, he precipitaly added “Only if you want, of course!”
Theo shrugged. “Then, lead the way, Wonder Boy.”
“Seriously?” Harry’s gaze was unimpressed and his arms crossed.
“Ron.” Was the only plausible explanation.
“Pff.”
The raven haired boy shook his head, grumbling under his breath. Insults, probably. Then, he left his post next to the window and they silently moved along the snoring beds. Their friends were peacefully sleeping: Ron was squeezing his pillow (either to strangle or hug it we’ll never know) and Draco was mumbling incoherent words, frowning (Harry swore he heard “my father will hear about this”).
They left the dorm and, luckily, no one was in the common room. Looking at the clock, Theo realized it was almost two in the morning. He hadn’t thought it was this late. Taking some blankets on one of the couches, Harry gave the carefully knitted one to the other wizard (and kept the less fluffy one, because self-sacrifice was his love language). So, they were going outside, guessed Theo.
They exited the room in silence, the painting closing in a sharp sound behind them. Harry shuddered despite the warm cover.
“I swear this portrait has something against me.” He claimed, outraged. “Every time I pass through, it stares at me, like I offended it by my mere presence. I never thought once in my life a bloody pear could look so menacing!”
“It does have sharpening features, I’ll give you that…” Theo replied with an amused snort. “You know, I myself suffered through the personal vendetta of a painting in my first year. It was a pretty rough time.”
Harry stopped in his tracks, baffled. “You’re joking?”
“Nop. Funnily enough, it was the portrait of a rather lush apple. It’s always the fruits that are bitter.”
“Please, tell me what happened. You can't leave me hanging like that!” He begged, already invested.
Theo grimaced, bashful at the memories. “Well, I might have criticized the way it had been painted.”
“Oooooh…”
He sighed, turning in the corner of one corridor. “Yeah, didn’t know it could hear me at the time. And I dearly paid for it.”
“How?!”
“It threw actual real seeds at me for a whole week, following me in every hallway of every floor. I had to hide in my dorm an entire weekend to avoid being persecuted by a fucking apple.”
Harry exploded in laughter, stopping himself to lean for support on the wall. Theo was now reddening with full-on embarrassment, regretting having said anything.
“It’s… Merlin… shit, it’s hilarious! How did I not know about that?”
The scowling student groaned. “Plenty humiliating, that’s what it was. As for the not knowing part, lucky for me, I had a pretty talented friend at threatening people, if they so much as looked at me in the wrong way.”
“Blaise, huh?”
“Yes. Weirdly, that’s what sold me on the best friend deal. Thanks to a vindictive apple…”
Harry smiled with an affectionate expression, patting his friend’s shoulder. “Still, a sweet story regardless.”
“Hmm.”
They arrived at the Grand Staircase, waiting for one of them to come. Darkness surrounded the two wizards, the only fluttering light illuminating their view was a floating ball conjured by Theo. Most paintings around them were sleeping. There were no ghosts, no whispers, no familiar feeling of being scrutinized by invisible forces. Bizarre.
“You know, the whole portrait-of-fruits-being-our-mortal-enemy has to be in my top five of strangest things I’ve experienced at Hogwarts.” Harry stated earnestly, stepping onto the wide moving stairs.
“Seriously?” Theo was a bit surprised by such a statement, having vaguely heard about the Golden Trio adventures in the castle. “Wow, so you’ve never accompanied Luna on her expeditions to find little freaky green creatures, because trust me, thatis the strangest thing here.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were friends with Luna.”
“She’s my cousin, Harry.”
“Ah.”
Theo snorted, faced with the boy's dumbfounded expression. “Guess, you didn’t know that either, huh.”
“No, sorry.” Harry smiled sheepishly. He wasn’t the most well-versed person in terms of family lines, especially wizarding ones.
They finally made it to the lower floor thanks to the magical stairs. The stairs had been really indulgent tonight, leading them directly where they wanted without funny detours. Perhaps were they nicer at night time? Clearing his throat, Theo resumed to his train of thoughts :
“Hmm, if you really think about it, all the Pureblood families are kind of related to some degree. I mean, that’s what eventually happens when you condone endogamy, with arranged marriages and all that sort of purist bullshit.”
“That sounds like incest to me.” Harry commented, while catching the other’s arm to drag him the right direction (which wasn’t necessary, was it Harry?).
“It does, doesn’t it?” The brunet agreed, compliantly letting himself be guided. “By the way, your father was quite the man for breaking the pattern.”
“Really?”
“Yes, the Potter family comes from a very ancient magical bloodline. It has always been one of the most powerful and strongest leads in Pureblood society. From what I vaguely remember from my history lessons, even your father was destined to an arranged marriage. But he broke the sacred promise by marrying for love, and a Muggleborn nonetheless, which caused quite a fuss. Luckily for him, and for you I guess, your grandparents were pretty progressive for their time. They immediately accepted his decision, which in response provoked a big advancement in terms of accepting mixed marriages in the British Wizarding World.”
Harry stared at Theo, a bit in awe. “I didn’t know any of that.” He murmured, squeezing the other’s arm, grateful. “I- Thank you, for telling me.”
Seeing the emotion filling his eyes, Theo pressed his friend’s shoulder with his available hand in a comfort gesture.
“I could lend you a book on wizards' culture and traditions, if you wish.” He suggested. “Or on the influential magical bloodlines, which you’re kind of a part of.”
Harry nodded, a beautiful smile blooming on his face. “Yes, that would be very kind. Thanks again, Theo!”
They continued their journey through the castle in companionable silence, still holding one another (and of course, Theo was having a bit of an interior freakout, not that it was new anyway). Finally, they exited the castle walls and were now standing in the cold obscure night, narrowing the blankets around their shivering bodies.
“So, why are we outside? Where are you taking me?” Theo asked, curious but also chattering his teeths.
“To a special place. But first, we have to be discreet, pass Hagrid’s hut and go directly to the Whomping Willow.” Harry summarized, gesticulating in abstruse movements.
“The Whomping Willow! Do you want us to die?” The shorter boy whisper-shouted, eyes widening, nonetheless following his friend to their fateful death.
“Don’t be dramatic, Theo.”
Said Theo sneered. “No, I leave that to you.”
“Ha ha. You’re funny.”
“One of my best qualities.”
Harry sighed emphatically, ruffling his hair. “I miss the time when you used to be silent. Such a peaceful life I had then!”
“It’s you who wanted to be friends, so don’t go all weepy and regretting now.” Theo sarcastically pointed, glaring at the ungrateful idiot.
Harry smirked. “I suppose I’ll have to bear it.” Merlin, he loved to tease him.
“You’re a dickhead, Wonder Boy.”
The smirk grew wider. “And you're a pain in my ass, clever boy.”
Theo tried to hide his smile at the nickname, but failed miserably. To avoid unnecessary comments, he quickly changed the subject.
“We’re here. So, what do we do now? Knock yourselves out with the Whomping Willow to finally sleep?”
“That’s actually not a bad plan.” Harry commented thoughtfully. “But not tonight unfortunately. You’ll see very soon why I led us here.”
Not saying a word more, he took a long narrow branch and approached the violent tree. He skillfully dodged a leafy punch (thanks Quidditch) and pressed with the branch a point at the trunk’s base. Suddenly, to Theo’s astonishment, the tree became immobilized. Harry turned to watch his bewildered face, a proud grin on his own. He grabbed hold of the quiet boy again, but this time his hand, clasping delicately his fingers around the other’s and pulling him towards the thick trunk.
They were facing a hole Theo had never noticed before (not that he had spent a lot of time examining the Whomping Willow, really). Harry motioned for him to follow behind and, letting go of his hand, he jumped right in, yelling joyous nonsense. Theo rubbed his eyes, to verify that he was in fact not dreaming right now. Nop, not a hallucination. There was indeed a fucking hole at the base of the fucking tree, leading Merlin knows where. Perfect, let’s go then!
He jumped and slid along a dim and confined tunnel at a frightening speed. Lucky he wasn’t claustrophobic, because he would have for sure had a panic attack. He ended up painfully on his bum, confused and disoriented. Where the fuck was he?
“Welcome to the Shrieking Shack!” Harry offered him his hand and helped him get back on his feet. “Well, you probably know the place and its legend.”
Theo nodded, scanning his surroundings with amazement. He had never gone inside the house (nobody could, there were no working doors or windows). The place looked actually a lot better than he imagined. It was clean, minimalist and not in complete ruins. That shattered the legend. Shame.
“I didn’t know you could access the Shrieking Shack from Hogwarts, let alone at all. How did you find that passage?”
“Hum, that’s a… complicated story.” Harry replied awkwardly.
“I can do complicated.” Theo insisted, very curious.
The disheveled boy chuckled and led them into an adjacent room. They were a couch and chairs, a fireplace in one corner and a large fuzzy-looking rug in the middle. It resembled their common room. However, what plunged Theo in total stupor, was the ceiling. Like the Great Hall, it was enchanted to represent the sky, the stars more precisely. You could almost touch them ; they were descending on the walls, shining and bringing an ethereal sentiment to the room.
“Wow.” Was the only sound Theo could muster, utterly awestruck.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” Harry reflected, as he sat down directly on the floor. “That’s all thanks to Hermione’s marvelous feats in Charms. We kind of redid the place. It was a hovel before, with the dust, stains and broken furniture.”
Theo sat next to him, even more impressed by the level of magic it would have to require to create a place like that.
“To keep it short, I know about this secret passage thanks to my dad and his friends. They used it regularly when they were themselves at Hogwarts. Hermione, Ron and I first came here in third year, I think.”
“Hmm, so Lupin, right?”
Harry looked at him shocked. “How?”
“How did I know he was a werewolf or that he was your dad’s friend?” Theo enquired, smirking.
Harry smiled widely, the corner of his emeraude eyes crinkling. “Both.”
“I am a smart and observant person, Harry. It’s not that hard to figure out, you know. Can’t believe nobody caught on to the fact in third year. Either they were very dumb or I am extremely smart, your pick.”
“Both.” Harry repeated, snorting. He laid down on the rug, shamelessly stretching his limbs and nudging his friend in the act.
Theo shook his head, amused, and copied him, enjoying the soft sensation against his face. He pulled the blanket over him and noticed it was red and gold. Bloody Gryffindor! His eyes lost their way in the magical ceiling, engulfing him. They stayed like that for an extended moment, each drifting in silence and contemplation.
At some point, Harry broke the quiet, his voice raspy and almost inaudible.
“Theo? Why can’t you sleep most nights?” He turned on his side, orbs watching carefully the pretty boy swallowed up in that crimson cover, blue eyes and long eyelashes fluttering.
“That’s called insomnia, Harry.” Theo muttered dryly. The loud silence that welcomed his answer made him turn himself. The tousled boy was staring directly at him, unimpressed. “Okay, okay, I’ll be serious for a second. Well, it’s a bit of a depressing story actually. I- When- Rhaa fuck..”
Theo sighed, usual weariness straining his face. He passed one hand in his dark hair, biting his lips. Something in him really wanted to tell Harry this story, weirdly. He wasn’t the best person at sharing emotional and vulnerable memories, but he could always try. Theo averted his eyes and began.
“When my mother died, I was there. I somewhat witnessed her final breath, her last noiseless cry for help and the ultimate silent tear leaving her cheek. It… it was a horrible scene for a kid to watch, helpless and clueless to what was really going on. And it deeply scarred me.”
His mournful face stirred something in Harry’s chest. He wanted to embrace him tightly and press his head against him, to shield him from the awful memories.
“I’ll spare you the macabre details, but because of that traumatic sight, burnt into my memory, I had nightmares. Terribly bad and scary nightmares. After her funeral, I relived her death every night, waking up in screams, sweat and tears, crying her name, begging her to stop haunting my sleep. She didn’t, it didn’t.”
A joyless smile appeared on Theo’s face.
“As you may know, my father wasn’t and never has been very much of a father to me. He never considered the possibility that I was simply traumatized by what I saw. So, he never brought me to a Mind Healer. As a result, I had to deal with this… issue by myself.”
He looked completely defeated, like the lost and scared little kid he surely had been at the time.
“I trained myself. I trained my body and my mind to not go to sleep. I was so frightened by what was undoubtedly going to happen, that it wasn’t very hard to keep myself awake. At some point, I guess the training became a habit and the habit became my natural behavior. Maybe I fucked up my brain so much it can’t go to sleep normally anymore. Hence the insomnia.”
Harry felt his throat tighten in sadness. He shared his fair lot of haunting memories, but one thing he was thankful for, was that he never precisely remembered his parents’ death. Only his mother’s screams and that had been enough. He couldn’t imagine what Theo had to go through as a young motherless child with a shitty father.
“That is indeed a proper depressing story.”
Theo snorted humorlessly. “Told you.” He turned once again to face his friend, closed expression but glistening eyes. “And you? What keeps you up at night?”
“The usual boring stuff: nightmares. Not your kind to be clear, your whole situation seems a tad too complicated for me. Just dreaming of things I wish I weren’t.”
“No need for comparison, Harry. You can talk to me, if it would help.” Theo suggested softly. “Or we can stay like that, in comfortable silence.”
Also wanting to share something intimate, Harry prepared himself to talk about this nightmare he never told anyone about, since the first time it happened. In truth, he thought everybody had their own bad memories to deal with, he hadn’t want to burden any of his friends even more. But the realness he felt each time he was with Theo won against his apprehension.
“It’s a recurrent vision with a recurrent theme. They’ve been tormenting my sleep ever since last summer. Typically, it’s set after the final battle and we lost. I’m here, clothes ripped, bloody hands and blurry sight. I’m chained up to some block in the courtyard and I can feel my body shake frantically. And he is here.”
Noting how Harry’s body seemed to tense, going rigid and stiff, his mouth trembling, Theo immediately assured him. “We can change the subject.”
Harry frowned, shaking his chin. He needed to finish, to release himself of this burden, despite the edge.
“No, I should say it. I should talk about it. I’m the one alive, aren’t I?” He sneered and resumed his story. “Voldemort, he whispers gruesome words to me and then, he brings his present. And by present, I mean usually a person I deeply care about. It changes depending on the day, but it all leads up to the same inevitable conclusion: he tortures them in front me. He laughs vociferously as they twist and turn and crack on the ground, burning and flaying their throat by pointless screams.”
Harry shut his eyes, clenching his jaw forcefully.
“And I-I can’t… I can’t fucking move or articulate anything. I have to watch them die, a long and painful death. I have to watch the flickering light of life vanishing from their eyes, their last expression of agony forever contorting their face.”
He looked helplessly at Theo, anguish twisting his features.
“Only, when I wake up yelling for help, my throat raw and dry, it’s not their lifeless body laying cruelly on the stony slabs that haunts me. It’s his eyes, crimson red and deprived of any humanity. Along with that, the voices of every person that died because of me, shouting in the back of my mind “ IT’S YOUR FAULT ”. Sometimes, I cannot help but agree soundlessly.”
Only silence resonated after that confession. They were looking at each other, green searching in blue for something to hold on. Harry was panting, feeling relieved but also oddly sickening. Part of him didn’t even want to hear what Theo could possibly say, wishing to just disappear. Yet, he stayed and didn't turn away.
As for Theo, well he didn’t really know how to respond suitably to that. He felt so much and not enough at the same time. Sadness, outrage, compassion, anger and so on. Sighing, he chose to begin with a simple question.
“Why do you believe you’re responsible for that much sorrow?”
“Because I am.”
“That’s not an answer and you know it.”
“Perhaps it isn’t, but it certainly feels like it.”
“You were a child, Harry. A baby, a child and a teenager. How come an innocent and unaware little boy is the one to be blamed for the fate of the world? Did you choose it? Did you knowingly ask to be marked by death, ripped away from your parents and abandoned in a cold, foreign house? Did you wish to be hunted by a homicidal maniac, thirsty for power and destruction? Did you beg to be the Chosen One, the only hope and final contestant at only seventeen? Did you?”
Theo was now raised in a sitting position, hands clutching at his knees, lips tightly pinched. His clear eyes had gone dark with fierceness and the sky above them was clouded by stormy fog, reflecting his emotions. He was glaring daggers at Harry, so much that the Gryffindor moved backwards.
“No… I… no.” He stammered, a tad afraid, hands raised in a defensive position.
“Then, you’re not the one to blame for their death, except for the ones you took with your own hands. You were a pawn in a game you didn’t know the rules of. It doesn’t justify everything, but certainly explains a lot.”
Fury left his eyes and grief took its place. “I am sorry, Harry, I’m sorry you had to be that pawn. You didn’t deserve the life of misery that comes with it.”
To say that Harry was stumped, was clearly a great euphemism. He opened his mouth and shut it right after multiple times, unable to react. He had never seen Theo so fired up, it was as mesmerizing as worrying. But what moved him the most, was the message he was trying to communicate (or more drill into his brain).
A small smile appeared on Harry’s face. “It’s the first time someone is acknowledging it. Quite ironic that the person apologizing had nothing to do with it.” He mused, raising one eyebrow.
“Perhaps… Honestly, I just can’t allow another guy to steal my crown for being the saddest fool in the room.” Theo shrugged, a sly smirk curling.
They burst out in laughter simultaneously, laying down again on the rug, limbs tangled up. The hilarity lasted a few minutes before quiet appreciation regained its hegemony.
“Sometimes I wonder if I had said no at the beginning, would I still be here?” Harry pondered, thoughtfully, scratching his jaw. He needed to shave soon.
“That’s a dangerous kind of path you’re taking there.” Theo commented, yawning. He was very comfortable, Harry’s head confidently weighing on his stomach.
“You don’t do it?”
“I try to avoid it. I don’t like revisiting the past.”
“And the future?”
“What about the future?”
“Exactly my question.”
Theo considered it a moment, then answered truthfully. “If I’m honest with you, I never thought I’d live so long. I never thought about the future because I didn’t think I would have one. Hope is a silly thing when you’re always waiting to go past the last train station.
“That’s sad, Theo.”
“Didn’t I tell you I was the saddest one here?” He chuckled derisively. “And you, wonder boy, what can you possibly dream of, when I’m fairly sure you could have everything?”
“Not everything.” A strange look passed fleetingly through Harry’s eyes, so rapidly Theo didn’t have the time to identify it. “Plus, does it really have value if I’m offered a job because of my name, not my actual skills?”
That was a good and real question. Theo never thought his friend had actually dwelt on it.
“Most people will unfortunately never dissociate the Harry from the Potter. You’re stuck with this identity for eternity.”
Harry shrugged, like he had already resigned himself to his fate. He suddenly prodded Theo’s stomach with one finger. Strange palpitations spread (another symptom of the mysterious illness?).
“You do. I mean, separate me from what I’ve done. Why?” The wonder boy asked rather seriously.
“I know how it feels to be burdened with the weight of everyone else’s image of you.” Theo scoffed. “It is simple, really: if you have a Death Eater father, people expect you to be a Death Eater son. You’ll be subjected to the same thing: your children will be almost required to act like their formidable father. It's the way of the world.”
“You think I’m formidable, huh?” Harry grinned, tone teasing.
“Shut up, moron. I’m being philosophical here.”
The idiot stifled a laugh and unconsciously began tracing calming patterns on Theo’s thigh.
“I don’t know if I want children. Would I be a good father? I never grew up with a real family or a steady paternal figure. How can I be something I never had?” He murmured in an interrogative voice.
“Same. I’m too fucked up to be responsible of raising a full being.” Theo deadpanned.
“Imagine us together raising a child. We would make a glorious pair.”
The quiet boy snorted, envisioning the disaster. “That poor child, they would be the perfect embodiment of trauma.”
Secretly pleased Theo didn’t flinch nor protest on the “us”, Harry grinned cunningly. “Oh I already picture the headlines.”
“I’m almost tempted to do it solely for that.”
“I’m game if you are.” He murmured in a low voice, pressing his luck.
Silence.
“Theo?” Harry called out, worried he had maybe pushed too far. No response.
He lifted himself up from the rather comfortable belly to see what was wrong. Harry softly chuckled at the sight : Theo had closed his eyes and was now soundly sleeping, mouth adorably slightly opened. He got up properly and put the red blanket back, tucking the sleepy boy.
Yawning himself, Harry settled next to him with his own blanket, letting a small space between them. Gazing at the starry ceiling, he smiled, happy. Tonight had been one of his best nights in a long time. He would cherish these precious moments, committing them to his memory in every detail. How the softness of Theo’s skin slid under his fingers. How his eyes shimmered with joy each time they bantered. How the dark curly locks would inevitably fall down along his high cheekbones, causing him to huff in annoyance. How his lips reddened each time he bit them, lost in reflection.
So much and not enough to keep close and adore.
In the end, Harry much preferred nights like these than going on awkward dates, where he would indisputably embarrass his clumsy self in front of Theo, like he had already done countless times. This night had felt like them : deep conversations, playful teasing, never-ending interrogations, but most importantly real . An unexpected movement pulled Harry out his head. Theo, still sleeping, had come closer, filling the gap between them. He was now cuddling Harry’s chest, his face buried in the crook of his neck. Harry smiled contentedly and clasped his arms around the sleepy boy. He could rapidly get used to this. And he fell asleep on that last very appealing thought.
Whether these two idiots realized later on (and separately), that short night had been the best sleep they each ever got, and, well, that wasn't anyone's concern but their own.
And maybe Hermione’s, when she became aware in the morning that two of her boys were missing and went bonkers.