View Full Version : Never Say I Don't-A Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott HP fic

May 12th, 2006, 9:59 AM
This is rated PG-13 or a 12A whatever you prefer

Dawn broke over the ancient, accursed walls of Hogwarts School. At the top of the school, the Gryffindors were awaking from their slumber, perhaps with a Firewhisky bottle in their hand and not knowing how it got there.
Then there's the Ravenclaws, well they've been up for a while now, writing a letter to the ministry complaining about such and such, or about the curriculum and suggesting ways in which it could improve.
 The Hufflepuffs, bless them, were asleep. They wouldn’t wake for a while yet, all snuggled up down there in that cozy little basement of theirs.
Then we come to the Slytherins, and in particular, Draco Malfoy. He thought the Dungeons were the worst place to be. He still wanted to be a Slytherin, yet he found it degrading that they had to be in the dankest, smelliest place in the castle.
That is where he was at that moment, sat crouched on his trunk flipping cards onto the floor. He had been awake for several hours and had attempted to get back to sleep, yet the snoring of Crabbe and Goyle made him feel sick. Only one other bed, out of the five, was bare. Theodore Nott went to bed before anyone else and arose before anyone.
Draco was so accustomed to this behavior that he didn't raise an eyebrow to the fact that Theodore was gone at seven on a Saturday morning.
Draco turned to look at Goyle, who gave such a grunt; he was surprised that the whole house didn't wake up in alarm.
It wasn't as if he hated the boy – well, boys, if you include Crabbe, who held about as much intellect in his brain as a Muggle-born had rights – but he felt that both Goyle and Crabbe weren't as cunning as he.

Then there was Blaise Zabini, who was about as useful as a hairdresser at the foot of the guillotine.
Perhaps he was being a tiny bit too extravagant.... Nah. Zabini was a bit of a loner as well; he may not have the gruff attitude and physicality that Crabbe or Goyle had, but he was slow and a bit dim-witted. Plus, he took Muggle Studies – that was enough to get on anyone's nerves.
Theodore Nott opened the door of the dormitory and sighed. Draco turned and nodded. Finally, he thought, someone with more than two brain cells.
It suddenly occurred to Draco how odd it was, that Theodore would usually be wandering around the lake at this time, yet here he was, now opening his trunk and pulling out his wand. What didn't he carry it with him?
“Malfoy,” Nott called, “you might want to help me out here.”
Draco stood and reached into his pocket for his wand. “What?”
“There’re a couple of fourth year Gryffindors up, thinking they're the best, as usual; made a few... comments, directed at me.”

This is pointless; the boy can't even look after himself.
Draco slumped back onto the floor and used his wand to pick up the cards, now clearly ignoring Theodore. “Do you ever find,” Nott began, “that you’re misjudged?”
Draco's wand dropped to the floor, and, subsequently, the cards flew all over the room. He turned, and without picking up his wand, stood again.
“Yes,” he said. “Always.”
Theodore was taller than Draco and so he had to look up when speaking to him. He had dark grey hair, which was odd for someone his age, yet his eyes were hazel, very similar to Draco's, and his skin was faded and pale.
“It’s as if being in Slytherin has branded us to be the typical villain.” He sighed again. “But we’re not.”
Draco breathed in. “No, we’re not.”
He tried to find something to say, other than gasping breaths, which would be sure to wake the other three. Instead, he bit his lip and stared at the floor, but Theodore’s eyes made his head rise.
“Maybe some of us are, I'm not. I'm not two-dimensional; no one's seen what I'm like in the common room to other Slytherins. They judge me on how I act in public.”
Those grey, piercing eyes were looking into Draco’s own, and he felt relaxed, as if he wasn't aware of the sleeping bodies near him.
Theodore was gazing up at the ceiling, as if he was expecting to see the moon shining above. Draco averted his eyes, coughed, and knelt down to pick up his wand.
In the confusion of the moment, in which Theodore and Draco stared straight at each other, after Draco had picked up his wand and Theodore had looked from down from the ceiling. Draco felt a twinge in his stomach, something he hadn't felt before.
Theodore seemed to feel this as well: the pulsing testosterone that was pumping through them, the thought of doing something wild which would prove his point about Slytherins not being as two-dimensional as everyone thought.
It was as if an invisible pair of hands was pushing Draco forward – well, maybe not, as the same pair of hands would have had to pursed his lips as well, and it seemed that Draco was doing it all on his own.
Theodore's hand was raised and he placed it behind Draco's head. Now Draco could claim that hands were pushing, or pulling, him forwards. Theodore lent in himself and was inches from Draco, yet their bodies were apart.
When Theodore's mouth collided with Draco's, a warm feeling of relief fell over the pair and Theodore wanted to reach out and pull Draco's body closer to his. Draco felt the same and stretched his arms out to reach Theodore. Now they were fused together, as one.
With both eyes on each other, the two wanted to fall to the floor, to fall together in a bond. Yet with a sigh, Theodore pulled away. He turned to Draco and then to the ruffle of Crabbe, who seemed to be stirring. Draco's eyes swiveled, following the gaze of Theodore, to turn to Crabbe, who was now rubbing his eyes clearly awake.
Theodore began to back off when Draco approached him again, but Theodore just turned and pulled open the door of the dormitory. As he turned around again to face Draco, he could tell he'd done the wrong thing. Draco could see the fear in Theodore's eyes and he longed to reach out and pull him back, but he didn't.
“I'm sorry Draco,” whispered a scared Theodore before he backed out of the dormitory and out of sight.
Crabbe was fully awake now; his pajamas were ruffled and back to front. Yawning, he scratched his head and spoke to Draco. “What did Theodore want?”
Draco ignored him. He had just been rejected somewhat dirtily, and whether or not Theodore meant it to happen, it was another question that Draco was determined to find out: What was going on?


Draco went to breakfast an hour later, unwilling to tell Crabbe or Goyle what had happen in the dormitory. He didn't feel sick or unnatural, he felt pleased with himself and unwilling to let anything hammer his plan.
Theodore was not at the Slytherin table when Draco arrived. Well that was no surprise really, was it? The only person that was in the Great Hall was Harry Potter. Now, usually Draco would have sent a snide remark over in his direction, but today he didn't. Harry didn't look too fooled either. He didn't seem to care. This suited Draco perfectly, as he had too much on his mind to worry about without Potter ruining his plan.
After breakfast, Draco led the way out of the castle and along the lake where the snow crumpled underneath his feet. He sat by the lake for a while and peered out over it. Once or twice, he thought he saw a head poke up from the bushes on the opposite bank and stare at him for a while.
Crabbe and Goyle were getting restless. Draco had not looked at them since they had sat down next to him moments ago. He knew that a war of the choices must have been going on in their small minds: either to wait quietly with Draco, or to leave in a huff and head back to the castle.
In the end, they left. Draco had now sat on the bank for a while now. Although he was cold and numb, he didn't dare move. This was Theodore's favorite place to sit. Draco had seen him out here sitting by the lake, thinking. He thought that if he sat there long enough, he'd be able to get on Theodore's nerves.
Draco missed lunch and stayed the whole afternoon at that spot at the lake, simply staring across the baron water. Once or twice, he heard someone call his name, yet he ignored it. He had to know what was going on with Theodore and why he had left him like that.
He saw, over in the courtyard, a blonde figure creeping up on someone who was hidden behind a tree. There was laughter for a moment; then Draco sighed and stood, wiping of the snow that had clung to his robes.
He found it a lot harder to concentrate in the common room after dinner. Crabbe and Goyle were laughing at each other as they punched each other, guffawing hysterically. Theodore, surprisingly, was nowhere in sight. Only Pansy seemed to see the pain he was in, and she approached him cautiously.
“Draco, are you alright?” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I... don't know,” said the disheveled voice in reply.

Pansy bit her lip and frowned. “Was it Theo?” she asked.
Draco looked up. How... they hadn't told anyone... well, at least he hadn't... he was flabbergasted. He stared into Pansy's eyes, the eyes he had once fallen for years ago. But now he felt nothing for her. He may as well have been looking at giant squid, for he felt no more love for her than he did for it.
“How… did you know?” he said.
“Theo told me,” was the reply, “this morning.”
Blood boiled up inside Draco, not for Theo, but Pansy. She had nerve telling Draco something Theo had told her in private. Well, he assumed it was in private, it isn’t something you spread around, is it? Who would go around and say, "I snogged Draco Malfoy"?
“So, why are you telling me?” Draco growled. “If Theo told you then he-”
“Theo asked me to tell you,” Pansy intervened “I mean if you two are what... going out th-”
“We are NOT going out!” Draco yelled, which made three second years jump.
Well, he wasn't and if Theodore wanted to talk to Draco, why didn't he go and talk to him himself?
“He wants to talk to you,” Pansy muttered. She looked about as bored with the conversation now as Draco was.
“Where?” asked Draco.
“The lake.”


Draco made it to the lake without his cloak. Yes, it was cold, but he was strong enough to withstand the piercing wind that was whipping the night sky.
Theodore was standing, alone and cold by bank of the lake. His Slytherin scarf was wound tightly around his neck, covering parts of his face. He had taken precautions against the bitter cold, whereas Draco hadn't.
For a while, the both of them didn't speak or move. Draco's heart was thumping and he was holding on to his robes tightly.
Eventually, Theodore removed the scarf to show a scarred face. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was a blue as the sea. Draco approached him, wanting to cure the pain he was in, to take Theodore's hand and lead him away from the trouble.
This wasn't what was on Theodore's mind, although he looked like it was. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was kiss Draco Malfoy.
Draco felt the tension between them and he spoke. As he did, it felt as if his stomach was erupting through his mouth. He felt sick, but spoke. “What happened to you?” he said.
Theodore's eyes narrowed. “I had a nice trip into the forest and a....” He spat the first few words out but stumbled at the end. He glanced around and then lowered his head.
“A giant attacked you?” Draco replied jokingly, hoping to make Theodore laugh and come back to him.
Theodore nodded slowly. He didn't look like anyone else would have had they been in his situation. Well, anyone who had recently been attacked by a giant. Sure, the scratches on his face were big but they weren't causing him any serious pain.
“You were,” Draco stuttered. Theodore looked on the brink of tears but was fighting them back. Draco approached him with his arms outstretched.
Theodore seemed to have no objections because he opened his arms wide and the two embraced. And suddenly, Draco felt warmer and Theodore felt the scars on his face disappear, feeling as if he was falling into a warm bath. Draco felt the back of Theodore head and they both fell into each other.
Moving together, their lips touched and Draco felt alive; he felt powerful and warm. Theodore ran his hands through Draco's unmistakable blonde hair.

The pair withdrew. Draco raised his hand and felt Theodore's face, looking past his soft skin and into his cloudy grey eyes. Theodore stared back. He loosened his cloak and then tightened it again.
Draco smiled and Theodore followed. One more hug, followed by a soft kiss, and then Draco withdrew himself.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Theodore said. “I'm cold.”
Come up to meet you
Tell you I’m sorry
You don’t know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Aww, let’s go back to the start

May 14th, 2006, 12:52 PM
Allow me to be frank, and in being so, a trifle harsh.

Your fic is... Proficient at best, I suppose. Your story is nothing that I haven't read before, it's merely been rephrased. things happen too quickly for believablity, and your descriptions suffer from pretension. The Draco in your story also fails to be believable, as he is not a complex character, merely two one-dimensional characters rolled into one. You are redundant in your wwording several times, and your narration switches between a high-handed, almost doctoral tone and casual speech. There are also several noticeable typos.

That's about all I suppose. My recommendation would be to scratch this and start over, as I don't see this going anywhere interesting. Sorry.

May 15th, 2006, 9:24 AM
Thanks. This was my first shot at writing a slash fic. I'll post my others and see what you think.