Treacherous - Theodore Nott

Chapter Ten

I rush to the Slytherin common room, my shoes echoing loudly against the floor as I make my way through the halls.

I wipe my eyes, the remaining tears sticking to my hands. I know my eyes are red, but I can blame that on an allergic reaction if worst comes to worst.

I can't believe that happened. He seemed nice and then a switch just flipped. I've never been looked at with such burning disgust in my life. Did he even actually like me, or did he just want me to sleep with him all along?

My heart drops. That's why he got me flowers and paid for my food, so I would feel like I owed it to him.

Just thinking about it, my eyes start to well up again. I need to throw something.

I storm into the common room, not even bothering to wipe the new tears that have formed. Doing this, I run head on into Draco.

"Violet? We were just headed to the lake, you should- Violet?"

I look down and wipe my eyes, then look back up at him, smiling. "I had some sort of allergic reaction, so I had to leave early."

Astoria slides around from behind Draco and gives me one look, "Bullshit. Come here." She takes my hand and we walk over to the couch to sit down. "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group has gathered in a semi-circle around us now. I look up at them nervously.

"Honestly, I had an allergic reaction!" I laugh, "You guys are overreacting."

Astoria rolls her eyes at me dramatically. "You lying bitch. Tell me what the prick did or I'll shank you."

"Dear Merlin, Astoria, It's really not that big a deal."

"Then tell me," she crosses her arms and leans back.

I sign, knowing she's won. She knows me too well. Luckily Mia and Lorenzo are at the lake already, so I only have five pairs of not-blinking eyes staring at me, rather than seven.

I tell the group what happened, leaving no details out.

"I guess I was bound to tell you guys anyways. I told him he'd regret it," I shrug.

I look around at the group surrounding me.

Astoria looks like she's going to vomit. Draco's face is red with anger, and Blaise's jaw is set in a way I can tell he's fighting back certain words. Mattheo just shakes his head with a pissed look on his face. I look at Theodore, whose expression is unreadable, of course.

Then, I see the smallest twitch on his face and he moves his eyes to mine. They are like the hateful eyes Jack showed me earlier, but where his were hot with anger, Theodore's are cold.

A small uncomfortable laugh escapes my mouth. "We can just prank him or something, guys. Pants him in the hall or something. It's not that deep."

"Not that deep?" Astoria whispers with icy rage. "I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind."

I take a shuddering deep breath, tears resurfacing once again.

"You really don't have to, it's not necessary."

Mattheo scoffs, his usual cheerful and lighthearted demeanor gone. "No, I think I'd like to have a word with him."

"A word," Blaise echos blankly.

The group exchange a look, and Astoria nods to them. Turning back to me, she starts, "We'll be back, and we can all still go hang out at the lake later."

With that, she stands and walks towards the exit, the boys trailing behind her.

Theodore lingers a moment, then turns to follow.

I shoot my arm out and grab his hand. "Wait."

He looks at me, then to my hand holding his, then back up at me, confusion taking over his cold rage for a moment.

"I just don't want to be by myself, can you stay?"

He glances between me and the departing group. I can see his mind fighting itself on what to do. Eventually, he surrenders and sits across from me on the couch.

"Why me?" He asks.

I shrug, "You were the last one."

He nods in understanding.

For a moment, we just sit there, soaking each other in. The comfortable silence surrounds me like a cocoon. I breathe, and find myself more relaxed.

I still want to throw something though.

"Are you okay?" He asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I'm a bit surprised by his question. I think on it for a moment, contemplating if I want to be wholly honest with this boy I hardly know.

"You don't have to answer," he awkwardly frowns.

"No, it's okay. I think... yeah, I'm okay. For the most part at least. I'm just angry."

He nods, looking at the couch and picking at the thread.

I stand up and his eyes are immediately on me, eyebrows up in expectation.

"I need to throw stuff," I say.

He throws me a confused look, waiting for me to elaborate.

"I just like to throw stuff when I'm angry," I say shrugging. "Helps get the frustration out."

"Stuff like...?"

"Oh, nothing crazy," I respond, giggling. "Like quills at the wall or rocks at the lake. Stuff like that."

He looks at the ground and holds back a smile. "That's a little strange, how often do you feel the urge to throw things?"

I look at him and bark out a laugh. "I don't know, once a week? The normal amount."

This earns a chuckle from him. "You get so angry, that you have to throw things once a week? Not normal."

I look at him and gasp in offense, "Well, I'm sorry my anger management techniques aren't up to your standards, Mister Perfect."

Finally, I get a real smile out of him. He holds his hands up in surrender. "Just lead the way. I don't want to get on your bad side."

With that, we walk to the shores of the lake.