A Small Treason
Author: l3petitemort
Title: A Small Treason
Pairing/Characters: Luna Lovegood, Theodore Nott
Words: 300
Rating: G/PG?
Warnings: none
Notes: i wrote this for this weeks sortinghatdrabs, which was an inter-house free-for-all! so much fun. go over there and check out the drabbles; they're awesome.
Luna smoothes down her robes and sits, cocking her head sideways like a curious cat. She folds her hands in her lap.
“You don’t want to be here,” she says mildly.
Theo regards her in silence, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he answers. “No. I don’t. Not any more than you do.”
To his surprise, Luna smiles. In effect, he is holding her prisoner here, and they both know that when Alecto Carrow returns, things are going to be very, very ugly. But she smiles. “I understand,” she says, her voice calm and conversational. “I imagine you’re obligated.”
“That I am,” he answers her quietly.
Her smile does not disappear, but it changes in quality. It softens. Her eyes soften with it, and she suddenly looks five years younger than she is. She looks small and wise and holy; she glows a little, like a Portkey, and perhaps this is why, when she inexplicably offers him her hands, he walks over to her and takes them.
Maybe he thinks that touching her will send him tumbling through space, spinning like a sneakoscope gone haywire, and he will land someplace else. Maybe he thinks that she can make this disappear.
Neither of those things happens. Luna is not a Portkey, and without her wand, she can make nothing disappear. But her fingers are warm, and though her hands are smaller, they close around his protectively. She cups him like something secret; like a treasure. Her thumb brushes his knuckles.
“Is she going to make you do it, do you think?” Luna asks.
Theo flinches reflexively. He thinks he ought to feel ashamed of his reaction, but he’s already standing here in an empty classroom holding hands with the enemy, so what’s the point?
“No.” He pauses. “I’m rubbish at Unforgivables.”
Title: A Small Treason
Pairing/Characters: Luna Lovegood, Theodore Nott
Words: 300
Rating: G/PG?
Warnings: none
Notes: i wrote this for this weeks sortinghatdrabs, which was an inter-house free-for-all! so much fun. go over there and check out the drabbles; they're awesome.
Luna smoothes down her robes and sits, cocking her head sideways like a curious cat. She folds her hands in her lap.
“You don’t want to be here,” she says mildly.
Theo regards her in silence, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he answers. “No. I don’t. Not any more than you do.”
To his surprise, Luna smiles. In effect, he is holding her prisoner here, and they both know that when Alecto Carrow returns, things are going to be very, very ugly. But she smiles. “I understand,” she says, her voice calm and conversational. “I imagine you’re obligated.”
“That I am,” he answers her quietly.
Her smile does not disappear, but it changes in quality. It softens. Her eyes soften with it, and she suddenly looks five years younger than she is. She looks small and wise and holy; she glows a little, like a Portkey, and perhaps this is why, when she inexplicably offers him her hands, he walks over to her and takes them.
Maybe he thinks that touching her will send him tumbling through space, spinning like a sneakoscope gone haywire, and he will land someplace else. Maybe he thinks that she can make this disappear.
Neither of those things happens. Luna is not a Portkey, and without her wand, she can make nothing disappear. But her fingers are warm, and though her hands are smaller, they close around his protectively. She cups him like something secret; like a treasure. Her thumb brushes his knuckles.
“Is she going to make you do it, do you think?” Luna asks.
Theo flinches reflexively. He thinks he ought to feel ashamed of his reaction, but he’s already standing here in an empty classroom holding hands with the enemy, so what’s the point?
“No.” He pauses. “I’m rubbish at Unforgivables.”