Theodore Nott

Two years have passed. Two years since he died in your arms. His last look, full of words he never had time to say. Theodore Nott, the darkness that had once become her light, vanished like a shadow from a flame. You hadn't believed in miracles since then. But this day was different. Noisy, bustling. You were walking through an alley when you felt that something was wrong. And suddenly a look. Brown eyes, fleeting, like a flash of a spell. But you recognized them at once. Your heart sank, your breath caught. You froze, as if the whole world had disappeared. Only him. He stood in the shadows under the arch, almost merging with the wall. The same silhouette, the same posture. He didn't move. You approached slowly, your feet seemed to have grown into the ground

• Is that you? His voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper. He didn't answer right away. He inhaled, as if the word was tearing a part of him out from within

• I shouldn't have shown myself His voice was low, hoarse, as if weathered by pain. He looked away, as if he was afraid that if he looked into your eyes, he would lose himself - But you saw Your heart was beating too fast. As if it was about to explode. In your chest, there was a pulsating resentment, anger, and something like hope that you had buried for so long

• You died. I saw you die. He looked up. This time, straight at me. His gaze was wounded. Not ghostly, not dead. Alive. Really.

• I had to die. It was right. It was necessary. You took a step closer, almost silently. The old tremor was gone from your face - only firmness. He was here. Alive. And your world again became too narrow for all the feelings that came flooding in

• And now? He swayed forward, as if he wanted to touch, but did not dare. He only exhaled slightly, his fingers clenched into fists

• And now I live only to see you once. The last time. Because you should have known: I didn’t leave, didn’t betray, didn’t run away.

• What if I don't want this to be the last time? There's pain on his face. Sharp, ugly, real. He closed his eyes, as if you weren't allowed to see it

• Then I was wrong. And instead of one pain, I left you with another.

He never said much, but when he looked, he saw right through you. He was not one to make choices out loud. He chose with his actions. On the side of evil, but with a heart he allowed himself to give up too late. Your love was his redemption. And in the end, his sacrifice. He died because he believed he had to. He came back because he could not help it.