Peonies ; part two
Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: Theo has been taking his role of helping reader get over Mattheo very seriously.
Warnings: Unrequited love & Veronica isn't the kindest. Let me know if there's more; I probably forgot something.
A/N 💌 Thank you for your patience with me on this part; I know it took a while! As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading and sharing your thoughts/ideas with me! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
It’s well past midnight when a knock echoes at your door. You sigh, adjusting your shorts as you reluctantly crawl off your bed, leaving your notes sprawled across the covers. As you swing the door open, you find Theo standing there, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours. A hesitant smile plays on his lips, as if he’s unsure whether he’s welcome at this late hour.
“Hi.” You greet him with a mix of confusion and warmth, offering a sweet smile. You pull the door open wider, and Theo’s gaze briefly flickers over your tiny sleep shorts and oversized shirt before he meets your eyes again.
“Pansy’s at our dorm.” He says, his voice soft.
You let out a quiet laugh, “I know that.”
He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I just thought... maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Oh,” you say, surprised, your lips parting as you glance over your shoulder into your room. Theo’s heart races, a wave of panic surging through him as he mentally scolds himself for not holding back. Offering to stay the night with you felt impulsive, but the moment he saw Pansy enter his dorm, his thoughts had gone straight to you.
“Shit,” Theo shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I just—when I saw Pansy, I couldn’t help but think you might need someone tonight. But if you’d rather be alone, I can go.”
After you asked Theo to help you get over Mattheo, you wondered if it had been too much to ask of him. But to your surprise, you’ve spent nearly every day of the past three weeks with Theo. You knew he had his own worries—between school, Quidditch, and the pressure from his father. But the morning after you asked for his help, he was there.
You never expected him to put so much effort into helping you move on from Mattheo, but you couldn’t be more grateful.
“No,” you quickly respond, a smile spreading across your face as you reach out and grasp his hand, gently tugging him inside. “I’m glad you came.”
Theo visibly relaxes at your touch, allowing you to gently pull him into the room. As the door clicks shut behind him, sealing out the quiet corridor, his initial hesitation melts away. He takes in the familiar surroundings of your room, which, despite being a bit messier than usual, feels even more comforting in the warm, dim light with you.
He swallows his disappointment as you release his hand to clear your bed of scattered notes. Standing there awkwardly, he tries to keep his gaze focused, making an effort not to let his eyes drift down your legs as you lean over to pick up the last piece of parchment.
After you place everything neatly on your desk, you turn to face him, leaning casually against the edge with a soft smile. “Are you okay with sharing my bed again?” you ask, your voice light but sincere. “Or if you’d prefer, I can sleep in Pansy’s bed so you’ll have more room.”
Theo bites his tongue, fighting to keep his voice steady and avoid sounding overeager. He doesn’t want more room; what he wants is to wake up with you pressed close against him, just as he did weeks ago. This time, though, he’s determined to stay and enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.
He clears his throat, “Your bed is fine.”
“I was actually about to head to bed before you knocked, but I can stay up if you wanted to do something.” You offer, your voice gentle and inviting.
Theo shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Thanks, but I’m pretty wiped out from practice today.” He admits, and you can hear the exhaustion seeping through his words.
“You should’ve gone to bed at your dorm, you would’ve been asleep sooner.” You say with a slight frown as you notice just how tired he looks from the day.
“No,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing you were here alone.”
If your heart could have melted, it would have done so right then.
Theo’s eyes hold yours for a moment longer before he glances away, almost as if he’s embarrassed by his own admission. You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy smile threatening to break through. The idea that he cared that much for you made your insides flutter, warmth spreading through your chest.
Pushing away from the desk, you walk over to your bed and pull back the covers. Theo watches as you crawl in, adjusting the pillows with practiced ease before looking back at him. The unspoken question hangs in the air—are you going to join me?
He hesitates, slowly dropping his bag at the foot of your bed before moving closer to the edge. He’s slept in a bed with a girl before, but this feels wildly different. You make him nervous, and he has no idea how to hide it when he’s this close to you.
You settle into the covers, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight as you shift, and watch as Theo does the same, kicking off his shoes and slipping under the covers beside you.
Once the lights are off, silence settles between you, thick and unspoken. The only sound in the room is the soft rustling of sheets as Theo shifts beside you. You lie on your side, trying to make out his form in the darkness as your eyes slowly adjust. You can tell he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me the past couple weeks.” You say softly, and Theo turns his head to look at you.
You hum, reaching out your fingers to brush against his hand, and he takes it without hesitation, his grip warm and reassuring, “Yeah.”
It’s become a habit in the last couple of weeks—intertwining his fingers with yours. He would grab your hand every time he noticed your discomfort around Mattheo and Veronica. And at some point, you just started reaching for his hand yourself. You liked the warmth of his palm against yours and the way he’d brush his thumb over the back of your hand.
“You know I don’t mind, right? Spending all this time with you has been nice. We never really hung out much, just us two.” He says softly.
You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, I know. It’s been nice for me too,” you admit, your eyes meeting his in the dark. You both fall into silence, and it doesn’t take long before you drift off to sleep, your hand still clasped in his.
Panic hits as you suddenly realize the time—you’re running late. By now, you should already be at breakfast.
“Theo,” you whisper urgently, trying to shift out of his hold. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you close, and he’s not loosening his grip. His body is warm against yours, and even as you try to move, his grip tightens slightly, like he’s not ready to let go just yet. “Theo.”
“Dolcezza,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and you freeze at the sound of that deeper, morning rasp. “Quit moving.” His grip tightens just enough to keep you still, his breath warm against the back of your neck.
“We have to get up,” you huff, trying to slip out of his arms, but Theo just pulls you back against him, his hold firm. “We’re late.”
“We’ll just skip.” He mutters, his voice still low and groggy. The idea is tempting—staying wrapped in his warmth instead of braving the cold corridors—but you sigh inwardly, knowing better.
You’d grown used to Theo’s small gestures of affection over the past few weeks, and you’d been just as affectionate in return. But waking up tangled in his arms like this felt different—more intimate. You were certain that once Theo fully woke up, he’d be a little sheepish about how closely he was holding you now.
“We really can’t,” you sigh, trying once more. “We need to get going—” Theo grumbles in response, finally loosening his grip and releasing you. A triumphant smile tugs at your lips as you slip out of bed, quickly heading to get ready. You race through brushing your teeth and pull on your uniform, skipping any attempt at fixing your hair in the rush. By the time you step out of the bathroom, Theo is standing by the bed, just finishing the last button on his shirt, looking just as disheveled as you feel.
You hurry Theo out of your room as he finishes brushing his teeth, and he complies, adjusting his tie as you both sprint toward the Great Hall. Just before entering the bustling breakfast scene, you grab Theo by the arm, pausing to smooth down his disheveled hair.
“Is it a mess?” He asks, watching you closely as you stand on your toes to thread your fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.
“Just a bit,” you smile, stepping back on your heels and giving his hair a final nod of approval. “How’s mine?”
“Pretty,” Theo responds immediately, his gaze lingering. “I’ve never seen your hair like this before.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile at his compliment. You had let your hair fall naturally, and his reaction makes you feel unexpectedly warm.
You mumble a shy “thank you” before leading the way into the Great Hall, Theo trailing close behind. His cheeks are still tinged pink from the way your fingers had grazed through his hair, and he’s quietly grateful you haven’t seemed to notice. However, his relief is short-lived when he catches Draco’s eye, who immediately notices the pink tint and raises an eyebrow in amused surprise.
As you make your way to the table, Draco leans back in his seat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds gracing us with their presence.”
“Fuck off.” Theo grumbles under his breath as he lets you slide into your new seat before settling in beside you. Ever since your usual spot had been taken, you’d claimed the one next to Theo, and not just in the Great Hall. You found yourself gravitating toward him in class, the common room—anywhere you could. It had become a quiet, unspoken habit, one that neither of you seemed keen on breaking.
“I should’ve figured that’s where you disappeared to last night,” Enzo says with a knowing smirk. “You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”
You really had. Theo had taken to meeting you outside your last class of the day, content to walk around the castle or lake just so you could avoid witnessing Mattheo and Veronica together. You had learned he was the perfect study partner—far more patient than Mattheo, who would get restless after twenty minutes and start pleading for a break. He seemed to remember every little detail you shared, from how you took your tea to the smallest quirks about yourself.
He’d been so attentive to you that you overheard some girls in the year below talking about how Theo Nott was no longer single.
Theo gives him a flat, unimpressed glare, clearly not in the mood for Enzo’s comments, “Yet again, fuck off.”
“Well, have you two got anything to tell us?” Blaise presses, a smug grin tugging at his lips. Theo looks up from serving himself breakfast, shooting Blaise a sharp, warning glance. He could handle the teasing from the boys himself, but he didn’t want you to be caught in the crossfire, especially if it made you uncomfortable.
“No.” Theo replies flatly, his gaze flicking to you. You return it with an amused, yet sympathetic smile. Unconsciously, a soft, faint smile tugs at his lips, a detail the boys are quick to notice.
“Are you sure? Because—” Blaise starts but is quickly interrupted.
“I think you two would be perfect together,” Veronica cuts in, her voice dripping with an overly sweet tone as she flashes a saccharine smile. “Don’t you think so, Matty?” she adds, glancing over at Mattheo with a raised eyebrow.
Your eyes meet Mattheo’s for a fleeting moment, and he holds your gaze. You barely registered them, so absorbed in the boys’ teasing of you and Theo. For just a moment, there’s something unreadable in his gaze—something that makes your heart falter—but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his gaze shifting between you and Theo while Veronica cozies up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You two would be.”
A knot tightens in your stomach, and your appetite evaporates. The lightness you’d felt just moments before vanishes, replaced by a heavy weight. Even though you knew Mattheo didn’t have feelings for you, hearing him so openly agree with the idea of you with Theo stings more than you expected.
As long as you’d known him, Mattheo had never been in a serious relationship, let alone had a girlfriend. Now that he was with Veronica, it was painfully clear that you were never truly an option for him. If you had been, he would have made a move. You had dropped hints for years, and his playful flirting had always kept your hopes alive.
But maybe that’s all your relationship was ever meant to be—a friendship with a hint of flirtation. If that’s the case, you needed to move on. Fixating on a guy who now had a girlfriend was a losing battle. If you weren’t careful, you might risk losing the friendship you valued so much.
You’re so caught up in your thoughts, pushing the food around on your plate, that you don’t even hear the chatter of your friends going on around you. It isn’t until Enzo tosses a grape at you that you glance up, “Are you coming tonight?”
You immediately know he’s referring to the Quidditch match. You’d missed the last game, which had surprised everyone, but given your recent mood, it hadn’t been unexpected.
You nod. “I planned on it.”
“Good,” Pansy interjects matter-of-factly. “I missed having you there.” You offer her a smile, but it falters when you see Veronica nudge Mattheo. He clears his throat and turns to you, his expression unreadable.
“Speaking of the game,” Mattheo starts, his voice slicing through the breakfast chatter. “I need my jersey back.”
Your brows knit together in confusion, and it takes you a moment to find your voice, “I don’t understand—”
“My jersey,” Mattheo repeats, his gaze steady as he watches you. “I need it for tonight.”
“Did something happen to yours?” You ask, caught off guard. You’d always kept one of his jerseys while he kept the other. It had become a sort of tradition between you.
Mattheo hesitates momentarily, a flicker of something like regret crossing his features. “No, it’s just... I need it back now.”
“Oh.” You say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Veronica’s eyes dart between the two of you, her brow knitting in irritation as she takes in the way Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you.
Theo’s eyes watch you with careful intensity. And when he catches the fleeting hurt in your expression, he reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours beneath the table, his touch reminding you that he’s there if you need him. You squeeze his hand back immediately.
“I’m wearing it,” Veronica interjects, her tone harsh. “I’m his girlfriend. It would be a bit strange if you kept wearing it.”
Your friends exchange glances, their confusion palpable as they watch Mattheo allow Veronica to speak to you with such disdain. They’ve seen him start fights over someone supposedly speaking badly of you, so this new passivity is surprising. Enzo’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he mouths a quick ‘what the hell’ to Draco, whose puzzled expression mirrors his own.
When you remain silent, Veronica sighs impatiently, “Did you hear me—”
“Yeah, I get it,” you snap, your frustration evident. You turn your gaze back to Mattheo. “I’ll give it to you later.”
You spent all your classes obsessing over returning Mattheo’s jersey, and no matter how hard you tried, it was getting under your skin. It wasn’t just any jersey—it was the one Mattheo had given you, the one you’d worn countless times. His new relationship with Veronica had stung, but this felt even worse. Maybe it was because taking back the jersey felt like a tangible sign that Mattheo was serious about Veronica, and it drove home the reality of how much things had changed.
Logically, you understood why it was reasonable. Having another girl wear your boyfriend’s jersey would be uncomfortable, and if the roles were reversed, you’d feel the same way. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t stand Veronica, and the thought of giving up something that meant so much to you—both the jersey and Mattheo—was unbearable.
As you walked back to your dorm, you considered skipping the match entirely. However, you and Pansy had made plans to sit together, and you’d also promised Mattheo you’d return his jersey. As much as you wanted to avoid the situation, you knew you had to go.
You were so irritated as you snatched Mattheo’s jersey off the back of your chair that you hadn’t even noticed the red peonies and green jersey sitting on your bed at first. It wasn’t until you tossed your bag aside and went to fix your hair that the unexpected sight caught your eye.
Your eyes landed on the familiar green jersey, the back facing up so you could clearly see ‘Nott’ stitched in bold, unmistakable letters. A smile tugged at your lips, your earlier frustration fading as you reached for the flowers, their soft petals brushing against your fingers. Carefully, you lifted them, already picturing them in a vase on your desk.
There’s a card tucked between the blooms, and you smile at Theo’s handwriting: Dolcezza—wear this for me tonight?
Suddenly, the idea of going to the match didn’t seem so dreadful anymore—if anything, it felt like something you could actually look forward to.
“Finally!” Veronica calls out the moment she spots you, her voice laced with impatience. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” She stands outside the boys’ locker room, arms crossed like she’s been waiting for ages.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I told Mattheo I would be here.”
“I know,” She says, her tone short, before sticking out her hand expectantly. “I can take that.”
You hesitate, wanting to wait and give it to Mattheo yourself, but you know she’ll be the one wearing the jersey tonight. It feels pointless to hold onto it any longer. With a reluctant sigh, you hand it over, and Veronica’s lips curl into a triumphant smile as she takes it from you.
“Thanks.” She chirps, instantly brighter now that she’s got what she wanted. You watch as she slips the jersey on, and a slight bitterness creeps into your chest at the sight of it on her. She finishes adjusting the jersey and looks up, sending you a smug smirk that makes your stomach twist.
In the last week or so, you’ve noticed her once-sweet attitude starting to crack. At first, she was nothing but kind, almost to the point where you questioned if it was genuine. But now, the subtle comments slipping through made it clear—she didn’t like you, and you couldn’t figure out why.
Sure, you were close with Mattheo, but if the jersey was any indication, she had no real reason to worry.
You were nothing but a friend to Mattheo, even though you desperately wished that wasn’t the case.
She eyes the jersey you’re wearing, quirking an eyebrow as if she’s about to say something snide. You brace yourself, waiting for the comment, but then her face lights up as her attention shifts to something—or someone—behind you.
You turn just as she brushes past you, wrapping her arms around Mattheo’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. The sight makes your stomach twist, and you quickly avert your gaze, unable to bear watching them. Her giggles fill the air, loud and lovesick, a blatant declaration that he’s hers now.
“Whose jersey are you wearing?” Your eyes snap over to Mattheo, who has one arm around Veronica’s waist as he looks at you curiously. Her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, and she looks frustrated that his attention is on you.
“Mine.” You glance over and see Theo approaching, a flicker of relief washing over you. A genuine smile spreads across your face, and before you think it through, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He looks momentarily surprised but quickly gathers himself, encircling your waist and holding you firmly.
You lean back slightly to meet his gaze, your voice softening. “Thank you for the flowers. Again.”
A warm, gentle smile blooms on his lips, the kind he reserves just for you. “Anytime, dolcezza.”
A moment lingers between you, where your eyes lock and soft smiles play on your lips. But the spell shatters at Veronica’s excited squeal of Mattheo’s name. You clear your throat, gently pulling away and offering Theo a fleeting smile, even though you sense his disappointment at the loss of your warmth.
Your gaze drifts toward Mattheo, who leans in to press a kiss against Veronica’s lips, a pang of longing twisting in your chest. You exhale slowly, then look back at Theo. “Are you nervous?”
“Not really,” he replies with a casual shrug, though you catch a flicker of something beneath his calm exterior. “But if I do get nervous, I’ll just search for the pretty girl wearing my name.”
Your lips part in surprise at Theo’s bold flirting, a playful spark igniting in your chest. You try to mask your smile, but it’s no use—Theo sees right through you, a knowing grin spreading across his face as he revels in your reaction.
“Good luck. I’ll wait for you after.” You lean in, nearly whispering as you press a kiss against Theo’s cheek, but in your nervousness, your lips brush against the corner of his mouth instead. The contact sends a spark of warmth through you, but before he can react, you pull away, leaving him to watch you walk off, the letters of his last name boldly displayed on your back.
He stands there for a second, staring after you, but as he turns to leave, he catches sight of Mattheo, who is watching you with an intensity that makes his heart sink.
You’re exhausted. Keeping track of both Mattheo and Theo is proving to be more tiring than you anticipated. You’re used to focusing solely on Mattheo during the game, but tonight, your attention keeps shifting to Theo.
“Are you even listening to her?” Pansy scoffs, jabbing you in the ribs.
The unexpected nudge jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn to her, puzzled. “What?”
“Veronica. Are you paying attention?” Pansy glances over, raising an eyebrow.
You shake your head, “No. I didn’t even realize she was sitting nearby.”
“Listen to her. She’s been bragging about Mattheo.” That catches your attention. You follow Pansy’s finger as she points, and your gaze lands on Veronica a few rows ahead. As you focus, her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, loud and unmistakable, carrying clearly despite the distance.
“Do you even know how long I waited to get him?” Veronica’s voice rises above the noise, smug and self-satisfied. You glance over just in time to see her gather her hair into a high ponytail, making sure the name on her back is fully visible. “Honestly, the effort was exhausting,” she adds with a dramatic sigh, as if she’s endured a great hardship.
The girls around her practically explode with excitement, bombarding her with questions—how did she do it? How long did it take? What’s he like? Their voices blend into a high-pitched buzz, and you roll your eyes, feeling the irritation build as you turn your attention back to the match, hoping to tune them out.
Pansy nudges you again, her voice low and insistent. “Keep listening.”
You exhale sharply. “Because I really don’t want to hear her go on and on about him anymore.” The bitterness in your voice is hard to hide, but you don’t care. You’re too tired of hearing his name on her lips.
“You’ve barely listened!”
“There’s something off about the way she talks about him,” Pansy pushes, leaning in to try and catch your eye, but you continue looking forward and watching Theo. “I don’t like it.”
“I mean, I don’t either. But I’m not going to keep listening in.”
“Why?” Pansy cries out incredulously, gaining the attention of some people around you.
“Because I’m supposed to be getting over him, and I don’t think listening in as his girlfriend talks about him will do that.”
“But what if somethings off? What if she’s blackmailing him or something?” Pansy asks, before she gasps and turns to face you fully. “What if he’s dating her to make you jealous?”
“Do you really think Mattheo Riddle would allow someone to blackmail him? And secondly, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“You never know. I always thought he had feelings for you.”
“Pansy. This is what I’m talking about,” You snap, sending a warning look to your best friend. “Mattheo can take care of himself, you and I both know that. There’s no way I’ll ever get over him if I start making up theories about why he’s with his girlfriend. Veronica’s a bitch, we know that, but that doesn’t mean she’s not with him for a genuine reason.”
Pansy exhales in frustration, adjusting in her seat as she finally turns her attention to the match. “Alright, I get it. I’ll just share my theories with Blaise from now on.”
A smirk tugs at your lips as you imagine Blaise enduring the same conversation, likely rolling his eyes in exasperation, “Fine by me.”
Thanks to Theo’s swift catch of the Snitch, Slytherin secured the win, and the stands erupted in cheers. You’d screamed so loudly in celebration that you’re certain he heard you, even from across the pitch. The thrill of the moment filled you with energy, and you felt a surge of pride as he glanced your way after the catch.
You were eager to congratulate him, but held back, letting the others swarm him first. Instead, you were leaned against the wall outside the locker room, waiting for a moment alone with him. As you stood there, it wasn’t long before your mind wandered. You found yourself watching him from afar—his chest still heaving from the intensity of the match, hair tousled and damp with sweat. There was something about the way he looked after a game that had your thoughts trailing off in a completely different direction.
Had Theo Nott always been this gorgeous?
When he turns and catches your eye, you fully expect him to give the usual ‘wait a minute’ gesture, like Mattheo always does. But instead, to your surprise, Theo pushes straight through the crowd. In an instant, he’s in front of you, pulling you up into his arms. You let out a shriek of his name through laughter, completely caught off guard by the sudden hug, his embrace warm and tight as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.
“You did so good!” You cry out as he sets you down. When he grins at you, it’s almost enough to make you swoon; the sight of post-match Theo is something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. The blend of adrenaline and joy radiating from him leaves you momentarily breathless.
“It’s because you wore my jersey,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I didn’t get to say it earlier, but you look really good in it.”
You nearly melt, “Does that mean I get to wear it at the next game?”
“Please do, dolcezza,” he says, his tone suddenly softer, the endearment dripping with warmth like honey. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that sends a flutter through your chest. “You make it look far better than I ever could.”
You don’t get the chance to respond as Enzo suddenly appears by his side, rambling on about something animatedly. With a quick tug, Enzo pulls Theo away, but not before he glances back, shouting over his shoulder about how he’ll see you tonight.
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