I Think I Like It When It Rains / TheoNev.

Oh Blind am I, Guide me - II

Theo sat on his bed, Draco in his arms as he sobbed. He was exhausted, mentally drained, and Theo was trying his best to make it bearable for him. 

The blonde boy felt weak and light, indicating his loss of appetite and Theo couldn't blame him. Pany and Blaise were off in the quidditch pitch, practising for their upcoming game but Draco and Theo couldn't bear to be on a broom anymore, they both had flashbacks.

 Theo always smelled that deep, pungent, smell of blood, the dripping viscera at his feet, his mothers blue and beaten body rotting away before his very eyes, the way the broom had scraped his hands when he flew away from it all.... It was rancid and being on a broom reminded him of the images that came.

 Draco smelled fire, burning books and Vincent's scorched skin. He saw his friend fall and turn to ember from high up. 

Currently, Draco was crying because of a letter that shook them both, Narcissa Malfoy had been administered to St. mungo's for a dark magic infection, inside her heart grew a pit of magic that had been embedded into her skin. Draco was studying healing, he knew the severity of this disease. She wasn't going to survive, all St. mungo's can do is provide a comfortable passing and ease her pain. Narcissa raised him, she was like a mother to him.

 His heart ached for her, but tears would not come. No matter how hard he hurt Theo didn't seem to be able to cry anymore, all because a lingering voice in his head taunted him. It doesn't matter, what's the point of crying if it isn't going to help? 

Draco clung to him and cried, tears soaking the shoulder of his dark green sweater. After a while of whispering and hushing garbled words of comfort to the shell of his ear Draco fell asleep, soundly as tears traced his cheeks. 

Theo slipped out of his grasp, pulling the covers over the exhausted boy, his face was hollow and eyes dark. He changed into a black jumper, Theo trekked outside to the common room where the Weasley girl had kicked finch-fletchley square in the groyne as he deserved, he ignored the scene and went off to the greenhouse, knowing he needed to repot the Beelzebud's before they bore leaves lest they began releasing the fumes too early. 

Of course he'd get sneers or glares down the halls like always or pitying looks and whispers every now and then, he didn't care. It was just how he was, rumours or insults didn't affect him. It's what he liked to believe, theo. had a system built. He'd take verbal blows, sometimes physical, then bottle them all up in his head until they left and took other memories with them but he'd be damned if he gave a reaction to anything.

 He softly opened the doors to the sweet smelling room, greenhouse 3 was vibrant with its nectarine blossoms nearly dropping to release fruit. He spotted his pots, making a move to advance to them but he heard a quiet breathing, looking to the side and seeing a mess of soft fluffed up hair. Longbottom was entangled with leaves as he slept among them.

 The sight was... peculiar, not because Theo found sleeping with plants weird but because it was so calm. Longbottom was always jittery and quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in anxiety or eased in laughter. He was always feeling something, always smiling or frowning or laughing, never just.. calm. 

Somewhere, from the deep empty spot in his chest, the one that was always silent he heard a loud thump. It made him nearly stumble back in surprise, knocked the air from his lungs and made his skin feel warm, his chest felt painful when he tried to breath. For the first time in so long he cracked an expression of surprise, but also fear.

 The thump came again, blood cold for a moment then his body went back to normal. All silent and no sign of life was clear. Was he cursed? Were the Beelzebud's fuming? He racked his brains for answers, but none came. Theo was a logical boy, he didn't jump to conclusions or come up with theories, instead, he swiftly left.