Treacherous - Theodore Nott

Chapter Fifteen

Practically a whole week has gone by since I've spoken to Theodore, which is a bit awkward given our seating arrangement in Potions.

Today we're meant to attempt the Draught of the Living Death with our partner, which could prove to be a challenge if we continue in our silence.

I flip through my book, landing on the page with the instructions and ingredients.

"Infusion of Wormwood, Powdered Root of Asphodel, sloth brain, and Sopophorous bean's juice," I say aloud to myself, memorizing what I need to grab from the cabinets and cringing a bit at the thought of handling brains.

Theodore presses his lips into a tight line and stands, pressing his hands against the table, "I'll get it."

I guess that's the end of silent treatment for now.

I nod in thanks and watch him grab the ingredients, then turn to begin preparing the cauldron.

He reappears behind me, laying the ingredients out, and I shudder at the sight of the oozing organ.

Besides awkwardly bumping into one another on occasion, we make it through the first few steps without any hiccups and minimal speaking.

"Will you cut up the beans while I add the brain?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything, but begins to crush the bean with the side of the knife.

I dart my arm out and grab his wrist, not thinking, "What are you doing? It says to cut it!"

He shakes his wrist free of my tight grasp, and I suddenly realize with embarrassment that I had been holding onto him.

I can feel my cheeks lightly flush at my boldness given our current tumultuous relationship.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me, my back now to his chest. "See Potter?" He asks, pointing across the room.

I take in a shaky breath and turn my attention to Potter, who is crushing the beans rather than cutting them.

"So?" I ask quietly, more focused on the hardness of his chest pressed against my back than Harry's potion-making techniques.

He leans down a bit to level with my ear, matching my tone, "Harry's been excelling all year thanks to that old book," he whispers. "Might as well see how he's doing things and take a few pointers."

A shiver runs down my spine at his quiet words, spoken so close. I kick myself mentally for allowing such a reaction.

Briskly, I turn to face him and take a step back. This tension that always seems to rise around him needs to be put away.

"You can try it, but if the potion is ruined, just know it's on you," I state, curtly.

He smirks at his win, silently gloating I'm sure, and returns his attention to the beans.

"And you can be the one to stir it, if it blows up, it won't be on me."

He shakes his head, chuckling lightly. "Can you just accept I might be right?"

I cross my arms to my chest, deciding not to answer that. My silent determination to be right earns a head shake from him, but he adds the beans juice and stirs the potion. Shockingly, nothing explodes.

He turns his head to me, and gestures at the cauldron, lifting a brow in absolute smugness.

Still a safe distance from the table, I step forward and look into the mixture hesitantly. "We'll see how good it is when Slughorn comes around," I dismiss his possible win.