chapter 18

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Selene felt drugged. Her whole body seemed to decide to want to shut itself down. She was sitting next to the fireplace in the kitchens, her potions homework spread out in front of her. She coughed into her arm, and a house-elf walked over and set down a cup of tea in front of her. She offered them a weak smile before returning to her work with a sniffle.

"Selene?"

She looked over her shoulder to see Theodore standing in the open painting door to the kitchens. He looked surprised, and then his mouth dropped open and he looked back outside the painting and shut it. She shrugged and went back to her potions, needing to save the brain power she had for her homework. Her throat screamed in pain and felt like tiny sore bumps as she swallowed.

The painting swung open again, and Theodore walked in. She did not look up again until he was standing in front of her. She glanced up, squinting as he smiled down at her.

"Hey," he said, looking around the kitchen briefly.

"Hey," Selene responds, her nose so congested that her voice sounded weird.

"Sorry about that," he said, slowly lowering himself across from her, taking in her sick appearance. "There were some of my friends out there. I had to get them to go away."

"I know I look bad right now, but you do not have to hide me from your friends. I am sick," She teased, rolling her eyes before coughing into her arm for a minute, her breathing labored as she stopped.

"You should be resting right now," Theo said, reaching out a hand to steady her as she swayed.

"I do not want to be behind in potions," Selene groaned, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"But you do not look so good ," He said.

"Gee thanks," Selene wrinkled her red nose at him. "That is everything a girl wants to hear her, um, her 'tutoree' say."

"'Tutoree'?" He smiled, moving the potions work to the side a tad, "You are so American."

"Are you calling me dumb?" Selene asked, tilting her head at him as he reached out and felt her forehead.

"No," Theodore said, for once his shoulders relaxed as he did not have to be worried about being caught with her. "It makes you, you, and I like that about you."

"I am only like half American," Selene shrugged but smiled as something fluttered in her chest. "So you only like part of me."

It was a joke, but a muscle tensed in his jaw for a second, and something shifted in his face, but it was gone within a second, and he was scooting closer. "You need to rest."

His accent was soothing, and her eyes flickered down to his lips. "I need to do my work."

"Here," He pulled the parchment onto his lap, dipping the quill into the ink and hovering it above the page, "I will write for you."

"You do not have to do that." She sighed, squinting as a sharp pain split through her head.

"I want to." He said it so sincerely and quietly that it made Selene pause, her breath catching in her throat.

"Okay," she said back just as quietly before squeezing her eyes shut and trying to regain the train of thought she had had. "The sleeping drought is so complex because of its physical properties."

The quill scratched against the parchment as she talked, and Selene felt her shoulders relax slightly, tension seeping out of them. She cracked her eyes open, staring at the side of Theodore's face silhouetted by the glowing fire. She realized she was smiling without really meaning to.

He looked up at her, catching her staring. "What?"

"Nothing," she whispered, shrugging, "you are just not what I expected you to be like."

He smiled, turning back to her parchment and finishing the sentence, "I am going to take it as a compliment."

"It is."

all too well - Theodore NottWhere stories live. Discover now