Slytherin boys one shots

Theodore Nott - Post War I

5 years post-war

"I have this reoccurring nightmare where I am back at the hospital. And all of the healers are scattering around me helping injuries, brewing healing potions, and everything in utter chaos but I'm not doing anything. Almost as if I was in shock. I then concentrate on this bed and I walk towards it and a person is lying on the bed seemingly dead." I told my psychiatrist.

Every surviving member of the order was required to go to therapy. So here I am, telling a stranger who didn't fight in the war my traumas. A little dramatic considering I've been going to her for years. "Who was the person lying in the bed?" She asked while taking notes. I sighed, "Theodore Nott." The lady started flipping through my file, dragging her finger along the lines of extensive notes. "The boy who you dated in school?" She asked but knew the answer. "Briefly, yes." She nodded her head, "How does this nightmare end?" she asked, leaning back on her chair with her hands intertwined with each other resting on her lap, staring at me attentively.

"I start crying, uncontrollably. And try to grab his hand to check his pulse but his body turns into something shadow-like and floats away. I just remember not being able to breathe after that." I said, finishing the dream. She doesn't say anything for a few moments, "Why do you think it's him in the dream?" she asked. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I wasn't sure why, we hadn't been together too long. "I don't know, we were briefly together but we weren't serious. After he joined Voldemort I despised him." She squinted her eyes in deep thought.

"Well Bella, there seems to be a breach in your memories. I've noticed it for quite a while but I can confidently say now that magic was used to take your memories of Theodore away." I tilted my head to the side, trying to understand the nonsense that just came out of her mouth. She was saying that everything I know to be true, simply isn't true.

"I've been seeing you for about five years now, twice a month. The first time I saw you, you were in tears crying over the death of Theodore, you said quote "he was the love of my life". Then progressively over the course of the years the way you spoke about him became more vague than the time prior, you were still notably sad until you weren't. And today you told me you despised him. Your thoughts about him have been changed. Now due to your past, this could be your brain trying to protect you from more hurt. But if it was, it would block out the memory of Theodore all together. My consensus is that you talk to Harry. In one of our previous sessions, you told me that Harry was the one who told you that Theo was dead. If I am correct then maybe he had something to do with your memory or knows who did change it."

Minutes went by of neither of us speaking, the ticking clock being the only white noise. My mind raced trying to remember the things she told me about myself. Why didn't she say anything sooner? Correct my false thoughts. Harry wouldn't take my memories away.

"And if you're mistaken?" I asked absentmindedly. "I've been noting this for years, I've kept my thoughts to myself until I was positive. You're free to read through my notes if you'd like." I nodded my head. "Do you have just quotes of mine? reading my diagnoses doesn't seem like a grand time at the moment." She stood up and went to her desk, rifting through my absurdly thick file. She sat back down and handed me 5 pieces of parchment for each year. "These are the quotes worth noting." My heartbeat thumped inside my earlobes overtaking my hearing. I looked at her, "Could I get a copy of these?" she smiled warmly at me and took the parchment out of my hand, and ran them through her copy machine. she handed me the papers and I folded them in half and I stood up. "Our session is over, I'll see you at our next session which is exactly two weeks from now. I'll send you an owl a few days before for confirmation. If you need anything you know where to find me and feel free to write me at any time." she recited the same goodbye speech that I've heard over a hundred times, but this time she added extra sincerity. I muttered a thank you and saw myself out of her office.

I immediately apparated after closing the door. I landed back in my house in London. The folded paper fell to the ground but I just stared at it. Minutes went by, but I couldn't bring myself to pick it up. Almost like it was hazardous. In a way it was, knowledge that would slowly kill my soul in the most painful way possible. I left it on the floor and left to take a shower. I pushed the fact that I had it to the back of my head and got ready for bed. I took a potion that would help me sleep. As soon as my head hit my pillow my heavy eyes were satisfied and fluttered closed.

"Bella, love, are you falling asleep while I'm reading to you?" My eyes fluttered open and met with the radiant green eyes looking back at me. "No, I'm just resting my eyes." I joked while smiling at him. "I'm sure you were, it's ridiculous really. People line begging me to read to them and he you are falling asleep." he said, placing a soft peck on my lips. He closed the book he was reading to me and adjusted himself so he was comfortable laying down. "I have a question," he said looking at me. "What's up?" I ask. "Why'd you leave me?" he asked softly. "What? I would never leave you theo," I said. "Bella, yes you did. You let me die, love. don't you remember." he said with a straight face. I sat up and looked down at him. "Theo, be serious for once you're right here, I'm right here. What are you talking about?" He gave me a sympathetic smile. "I am being serious, love. I'm dead."

I gasped for air immediately sitting up on my bed. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead. That dream is definitely new. I looked over at my nightstand, at 3:33 AM. I stood up and grabbed my dream journal from my nightstand.

I went into my kitchen and began writing down my dream. I gulped down a glass of cold water and tried to concentrate on certain details of my dream before I forgot. For one, it was at Hogwarts. As I recall the details of my dream, the thing I tried to push to the back of my head yesterday came into view. I decided to pick up the folded papers and sat on a counter stool. Before my better judgment took over I abruptly open the papers.

First-year post-war

"Harry's wrong he must've seen someone else, he's not dead."

"No, he can't be dead"

"No"

"No"

"No"

Second-year post-war

"No, you don't understand. What's the point in surviving a war if the only thing you lived for is dead."

"Don't you understand? When he died I did too"

"I hate that Ron and Hermione get to be happy, I hate that I can't be happy."

"I wish I would've died in that war"

"Dying with him would've been heaven compared to my hell reality"

"Why did he die on me?"

third-year post-war

"Theo is the love of my life. Was the love of my life"

"I miss his voice."

"I miss the way he read to me."

"I miss the way he looked at me"

"I miss his eyes"

"I miss the way he laughed"

"I miss the way he touched me"

"I miss the way his hair fell on his forehead"

" I miss him"

fourth-year post-war

"I think I loved him in school."

"Or maybe I'm mistaken"

"I don't remember him too well. I know we briefly dated but we must've broken up after the war started"

"he had colored eyes, blue I think."

"He's a traitor"

Fifth-year post-war

"I don't know, we were briefly together but we weren't serious. After he joined Voldemort I despised him."

My legs moved faster than my mind. I grabbed my wand and apparated. I landed in his house, "Alohormora" I yelled before the door burst open. I threw the paper in Harry's face. Both he and Ginny sat up quickly. "Bella, what are you doing? It's barely dawn," he said groggily. He put his glasses on and muttered a spell to turn the light on. He picked up the papers I threw at him, straightening them out. His face went pale as he read.