Davina | hp. ✓

15 | A Dwindling Flame

THEO'S STOMACH WAS in knots that even girl scouts couldn't untie as he trekked through the snowy grounds of Hogsmeade. It was a Friday evening in mid-January and all of the older kids were bustling throughout the charming, quaint village to start their weekend off right. The line for Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop was winding out of the door as students restocked on their school supplies for the spring term. Theo buttoned up his black duster coat and spiffed up his collar to protect himself against the icy wind that seeped through the openings and sent chills crawling all over his body. He passed by a particularly rowdy crowd of third and fourth years as they gathered around the Weasley twins who were showing off their latest joke and pranking merchandise. He narrowly missed a whizzing frisbee and took to the side alleys to avoid any more close calls. He didn't want to receive detention for hexing a Weasley so soon after returning from holiday break. 

His eyes -- which were the color of cognac when a light shines through upon the glass -- avidly skimmed his surroundings as he trudged through the snow-caked cobblestone roads in pursuit of The Three Broomsticks. His gaze settled upon the infamous pub and inn. The stone exterior glittered with wetness under the dim lighting of the gas lamps along the streets, and the roof was caked with a thick blanket of snow that made the yellow lighting in the windows pop out. He ducked under the roofed pergola and flipped off the shrunken heads yelling at him to get out as he walked inside. Madam Rosmerta, the owner and bartender of the place, raised her head as he walked in and simply nodded her head towards the back corner of the bar. 

The Three Broomsticks was a cozy, old-fashioned pub with wooden tables scattered throughout the floor plan. Old, worn down suede booths were tucked on one side of the room while the bar counter spanned the entire opposite wall with a mirror behind it to reflect the cozy atmosphere back to customers. The upstairs platform led to a second level of seating, but there was a door just off of the bar that led to the rest of the place where guests stayed in the inn. 

Theo followed her gaze and strolled over to the booth that was tucked away in the back corner of the pub, away from curious eyes and ears. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and his gaze fell upon the emerald-green hood of his expected companion from the booth, his heart crawled up into his throat. He broke a sweat in spite of how snow-kissed his skin was, and his cheeks flushed completely as he sat down opposite from her. She looked up once he sat down, pulled her hood back just a little, and smiled that gorgeous smile of hers that always seemed to melt all of his troubles away. 

"Hello, Theodore." His breath hitched in his throat at the way his name slipped so easily from her tongue. He never let anyone call him by his full name, but she was not just anyone. "Draco was right. You look good."

He let his signature coy smirk curve at his lips. "I aim to please."

"I'm sure Draco's told you the plan by now. I wanted to talk to you myself about it."

Theo looked around the pub for anyone who might be too close to hear them, but he realized that there wasn't a single person in sight. In fact, Madam Rosmerta turned the sign on the door and locked it, sending a subtle nod their way. He looked back at Davina with amusement.

"I see you have connections."

"Apparently not enough to get us out of this mess." Her expression turned grim. His eyes darkened a fraction and he nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. She peered at him through those despairing, apologetic blue eyes of hers. "I'm so sorry, Theo. I tried to think of ways to get you and Draco out of this, but there are none that will work. Even if we wanted to flee, the deatheaters already run too deep into the Ministry. We'd never make it out undetected. Openly disobeying our parents would mean bounties on our heads. We have no other choice than to get our marks."