Im begging of you, please dont take my man.

The Great Hall was a sea of noise and movement, floating candles casting a warm glow over the four long House tables. Students chattered, laughed, and hurried to their seats, the clatter of cutlery and the hum of a hundred conversations filling the ancient stone walls.

Theodore Nott

voice low, barely audible over the din There they are.

Pansy Parkinson

her voice sharp, brittle Don't.

Theodore Nott

Don't what?

Pansy Parkinson

Don't look at them like that. Not again.

Pansy's hand shot out, gripping his wrist. Her nails pressed into his skin, but Theodore didn't flinch. He just kept watching Y/n cross the room, a slow, unreadable expression settling on his face.

Pansy Parkinson

quieter now, almost pleading Theo, please. They're going to see. Everyone is going to see.