(A/N: I usually don't do TW's since you've been warned many times but there is some heavy stuff in this chapter, especially toward the end. If you can't handle the topic or it triggers you, just skip over it because it's not too big for the plot <3)

this chapter is for the person who complained that I favor Theo too much xx watch me favor him some more below :p

third person pov

' All the pills that you did
Violet, blue, green, red to keep me
At arm's length don't work '

In one of the side courtyards Whitman leaned against a tree with a cigarette between his lips. The thick emerald sweater did nothing to ease how cold the brisk air blew by and whipped against his left collarbone. Draco stood across from him, pulling on a black trench coat of sorts for warmth as he explained Graham Montague going into a coma.

On the other side of Whitman was Theo, leaning a shoulder against the tree and smirking at the idea of Graham falling ill.

Draco began to give details, "And then we took him into the room of requirement, right?" He pointed his finger holding the Malfoy signet ring between himself and Theo, "Once we started hitting the bloody bastard we just couldn't stop"

Whitman finally came back to earth, taking a quick puff from the rolled paper with furrowed brows. "So you both beat him bad enough to be in a coma?"

"Did worse than beat him." Theo laughed humorlessly. It was disheartening to never hear real happiness behind his laughs anymore. "Broke his fucking arms and legs too"

Whitman started to smile crookedly despite this, "You could've told me that last night when you guys had me keeping watch so you could beat his face in, yeah? I thought I was going to have go into the hospital wing and do a round two on him to make it worse."

"No need" Theo stated dryly, "Woke myself up early just to see him getting carried on a cot to the wing—heard he's at Saint Mungos now"

Draco nodded along, hearing faint yelling in the distance but paying it no mind as he watched Whitman crush the burning paper between his fingers. "He won't be waking up either"

"Let me guess," Whitman tipped his head back against the tree, shoving the cigarette into his pocket to assure he didn't litter. "He's in the Malfoy wing?"

Theo fell into a manic laughter. "Doesn't get much better, does it? We can make sure he's treated but not well enough to leave the coma."

"Excuse me!" Neville Longbottom blurted out from behind Draco. All three heads turned to him almost too sharply, sending the boy back a step.

Draco grumbled, eyes rolling dramatically. "Stop being a wimp Longbottom. I'm not going to mess with you."

Theo seemed to be inspecting Neville so intently it became uncomfortable before he relaxed into the tree. He didn't mean to make the boy feel ridiculed. Theo just held a habit of making sure anyone that stepped near his friends carried good intentions.

"You can thank Ro for that" Theo tried to ease the edge in his voice. "Beside, I'll rough house him if he does."

"Fuck off Theo." Draco spat with crossed arms.

Neville's eyes drifted over to Whitman lastly, tredeptation filling him. Everyone knew who Draco was, he presented himself with no reserves. Theo and Whitman were a different story. Theo would always be hard for any outsider to decipher. He was quiet and carried an air of superiority wherever he went but never seemed to indulge Draco in harassing people. Still, everyone knew he was a cocky asshole. Most of the time though Theo would be connected to Rose's hip, trailing around the school grounds together with matching smiles and paying zero attention to anyone or anything around them. The two always seemed so happy then, not a stain of unhappiness anywhere near their bodies.

Whitman is much like Theo in that way but also very different. If his nose wasn't buried in a book then he was seen with girls flocking to him like a bird to it's prey. Technically, he never branched out unless it was to seek out women. Even then, he inevitably ended up right back by his friends sides. Despite his infamous title of being a whore, none of those hookups could tell the first thing about him or his life. Professors adored him and he appeared to be a silent leader in their group, someone always rounding them up and placing the lot in line.

The only thing Neville truly knew about Whitman Rosier was the boy collected plants. Which oddly enough seemed like the most surprising thing in the world.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Whitman questioned slowly, shifting both arms over his chest. "What? I've never done anything to you!"

Theo gestured with a head tilt toward Whitman, "Yeah this one's all bark no bite." Neville went wide-eyed while Draco and Whitman blankly stared back at Theo. "What?! Oh come on, that was a good one!"

"No. No, it really was not." Whitman deadpanned, lips twitching as Theo snorted. He straightens up after, "Anyways Neville, what can we help you with?"

Neville casted a worrisome glance over his shoulder, "You see those girls fighting?"

All three boys turned their gazes upon the corner of the courtyard where a crowd of people stood. A shrill scream rung out and made Theo's eyebrows raise.

"Yeah? So what?" Theo shrugged, going to reaching into his pocket for a cigarette but freezing when Neville spoke.

"I think one of them is Rose..."

"Oh fuck" Theo instantly scrambled forward with everyone else in tow. All three had been told she was spending the day with Mattheo, meaning none wondered her whereabouts all morning.

Frankly, they tried to forget where she was to not think of what she could possibly be doing with that Riddle.

Upon reaching the crowd they easily pushed their way through and sure enough found Rose. Riley Dean laid on the grassy ground, limp wrist pinned down with the heel of Rose's boot. Loud whimpers came from the injured girl but Rose payed no mind to them, long nails gripping a copy of the daily prophet and Riley's cheeks so harshly blood trickled out all in one hand.

"Make her stop!" screeched an unrecognizable Slytherin girl from the corner alcove.

"Should we?" Whitman questioned to Theo.

"Open your fucking mouth!" Rose yelled hoarsely, trying to pry the girl's lips open and shove the newspaper inside.

Theo didn't plan on stopping her. In all actuality, he quite enjoyed Rose flipping out on people. He always knew when to step in and he was sure whatever angered her this bad caused well deserved consequences for Riley Dean.

"Fine, I will!" The random girl shouted with a trembling voice, rushing to grasp at Rose's shoulders.

Now that wouldn't do.

Before contact could even be made Whitman and Theo stepped forth, the latter shoving the girl backward with a deadly glare.

Theo's arms wrapped around Rose's waist, yanking her up and away. Like a feral fighter she began twisting in his grip, yelling out as he started carrying her backward and the crowd rushed to bend the knee to Riley.

"Next time I'll break both wrists!"

"That's enough." Theo commanded harshly and carried her all the way across the courtyard. Rose gave up halfway across the space, going still in his arms until being set down by the same tree Neville once stood at.

Rose angrily straightened out the large sweater she had stolen from Whitman, nostrils flaring as her nails stayed snug around the crunched newspaper.

Draco could only manage a blink, "What the fuck happened?!"

In an instant Rose swatted at his chest with the paper, "Don't what the fuck me Malfoy!"

He recoiled away, holding both hands up in a stance of innocence. "I'm just making sure you're okay!"

"Do I look okay?!" She shouts back.

"Ro..." Theo's voice attempts to come out soft for her but there's so much edge held to it from his body tensing under the fact someone had done something to her. "What did she do to you?"

Rose clutched at her forehead, mind reeling and body pulling back and forth in a war to stop pushing them all away.

Whitman casted a glance backward to see Riley had been escorted out of sight but some lingering students stayed and gaze over at them. "Shows over!" He shouts. As suspected, the watchers scramble out of the courtyard or turn their back and force conversation.

Theo reaches for her arm in a futile attempt to bring ease. His fingers barely graze the soft knit before she's furiously shoving him off.

"I don't want your help!" She shouts once more, a slight crack to her voice as her eyes trail over to Whitman. "Not yours!" Then, she points to Draco. "And definitely not yours either!"

A pained look crosses Theo's face and like a tidal wave it washes over the others.

Rose averts her gaze to anywhere but on them, "I—I have to go train!"

"Train?" Theo manages to say, eyebrows pulling together. "No. Dumbledore agreed to let you have a break."

"Haven't you heard?!" Rose bites back as if Theo's her sworn enemy, "He said my time to mourn is over—there's more important things like me being his prized weapon! Apparently I have to move on!"

"Absolutely not." Whitman states firmly. "You are not training with him right now."

Rose whips around on her heel, ready to dash out of their sight but stills upon Theo pulling her back by the hem of the sweater.

When Rose turns she immediately gets in his face, nothing but anger in her gaze.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" She seethes slowly and Whitman can see the sharp intake of breath Theo has to take to witness her so wrecked. "All of you!"

She forcefully slams the newspaper into Theo's chest, leaving so quickly it's as if she's a ghost.

Theo cannot move. He cannot breath.

The time for denial was no longer. There was no way she wasn't manic or losing her mind. He knew Rose better than anyone so why was he trying to deny the truth right in front of himself? She could get a new boyfriend, pierce her face, lose her sanity, shut everyone and anyone out but Theo knew what truly was occurring under the surface. Rose needed help.

Real help.

"Let me see that." Draco huffs and yanks the newspaper away, scrambling to fold open the Daily Prophet and beginning to read aloud.

DADDY ISSUES OR ATTENTION SEEKER?

article written by: Rita Skeeter

Rosalie Black has been selected into the Triwizard Tournament. As all my avid readers know, she is one of my favorite enigmas I'm determined to break. 

Just as Harry Potter claims, she also says her name was falsely entered. I'm sure we can all assume different. It would seem they are both two teenagers in far over their heads.

Unlike Mister Potter, Miss Black does not appear threatened by her entry. It makes one believe it was no mishap that her name was chosen. She is a young girl filled with a false sense of confidence after all.

Although the proof lies in the details. Her professors claim her magical skills range way beyond anyone they have seen. Dumbledore even went as far as to decide she would be the next Merlin. Isn't that title enough for us to believe it could be her who entered both names?

Is this a plot for two teenagers to have some sort of fame? Have I not handed her enough fame and glory?

Coming to Hogwarts to interview her peers gave me a new insight of her life. I was able to collect information that was hidden before.

If you've read about Miss Black in my past articles then you know her whole life rumors swarmed of her linking to the son of high-ranking Ministry official, Theodore Nott.

Things seem to have changed rapidly.

She attended the Quidditch Cup arm in arm with Draco Malfoy, only heir to the prominent Malfoy family name. Even went as far as to introducing the young heir as her significant other to the Minster of Magic. Now though, classmates have told stories of her and the son of you-know-who, Mattheo Riddle.

Miss Black also lives with Whitman Rosier, a close male friend who attends Hogwarts alongside her. With no adult supervision around since the recent passing of Walburga Black, one can only imagine what goes down in their shared home. The list of men doesn't stop there, Blaise Zabini is apparently another one of the boys to pass her around.

Let's regroup, shall we? Going back to the topic of Theodore Nott Jr, a boy who always struck me as odd from the close relationship he held with Miss Black. The two have been spotted always adorning a vial of one another's blood across their necks. Are they secretly into the illegal blood magic? Or is it something more twisted and sinister?

Darkness surrounds the so called 'powerful witch'. I am curious to the idea of her dragging everyone down. It would be no surprise to recognize she is the true problem in all situations.

Maybe the reasoning by her long list of men is due to the absence of any fatherly figure. Orion Black has now been gone for a little over a year, but even then....did he truly father the girl? No doubt everything about her screams that she is desperate for attention. We all know how badly she must want to fill the void Sirius Black, her father, left in her life.

At the prime age of 17 the girl has made her way through a long line of wizards from the Sacred 28 families.

From the students of Hogwarts I was told many things. One fifth year girl, Riley Dean, spoke on the habits of Miss Black, saying this. "People have always assumed something weird was going on with her and those boys she's always with, but none of it was ever confirmed. Some do say she's been with each one though. It's not a shock to anyone now from her recent separation from that group. It consists of four boys, I think? They always seem to be trying to get her back around them but she's been a little off the rails, always with Mattheo Riddle. I guess she got bored of hooking up with the same guys and wanted something new, leaving the other boys angry and probably causing a falling out. I do fret to speak on what I wish, not long ago I was threatened by her. She slammed my head into a table repeatedly!"

After Miss Dean's words I worried about Dumbledore's judgements. How could he let such a dangerous girl roam his halls?!

It was news to me. I had always considered Miss Black to sway to the dark side, but I never ever assumed her to be of violent nature.

Maybe the incessant attention from men isn't the only thing she craves, maybe she craves violence. A scary thought, Hm? Perhaps Miss Black is more like her father than believed.

During our interview she even went as far to spit in my face! The disrespect for authority only shows more each time I encounter her.

If only her grandmother could see the monstrous she's made herself to be now....

But do not worry! I will not let her terrible attitude stop me from pulling every piece of truth out as we follow her journey!

A question I leave for you until next time, does Miss Black have any more secret men we don't know of? Or is the group of five Slytherins enough?

Until next time, Rita Skeeter!

*

Hours upon hours, that's how long she'd been stuck in this absurd headmaster office.

"I need a break" Rose pleaded in a weak voice, clutching onto the back of a throne chair that had been moved to the edge of the room for their duel.

"Rose...you have taken three breaks in the last hour—"

"Just some water!" She began to beg, chest heaving from the weight of the spell that had hit her hip minutes ago.

Dumbledore flattened out his christened purple robes and brought the elder wand down, "Of course then dear, you never have to ask for a quick break."

Rose turns her back to him and reaches for the small velvety pouch laying on the chair. She digs her hand inside until finding a small white pill and the metal water bottle Luna gifted to her. All the while she is muttering back to Walburga's voice in her hand, a constant companion she now dealt with daily.

Dumbledore watches as Rose places the pill on her tongue and begins chugging water. "Rose, what are you taking this late in the night?"

"Forgot to take my medicine this morning." She deadpans back, every muscle stiffening as Dumbledore crosses over and places his hand on her shoulder. A streak of fear filled her at the idea he would know she was consuming drugs instead.

"You must get a better routine of taking your medication, it is vital to your mental health."

At once rage consumes her, "I'm not a psychopath! And I'm definitely not made of glass!"

Dumbledore stays unwavering in the face of anger, "I never said that dear."

"Then why is everyone treating me like one?!" Her voice shatters and she hears Walburga's taunting voice circle around. "Stop" She shouts, beginning to tap her forehead as if a searing pain strikes there.

Pure worry fills Dumbledore as Rose mumbles incoherent words.

"Rose." He states firmly.

She keeps going.

"Rosie!" Dumbledore shouts and scoops up her cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet. "Are you...hearing things?"

Rose whispers brokenly, "I can't—I can't get her voice out of my head..."

"Whose voice?" He asks. She doesn't answer and he has to raise his voice, "Who are you hearing?!"

Rose pulls away suddenly, freeing herself from his hold and grabbing up her pouch at once.

"Rose!"

She moves quickly and doesn't stop until reaching the stone door, running down the stone staircase as his worrisome voice trials after her.

Where to go? She doesn't know. Her feet carry her out of the stairwell and onto the empty corridor. Walburga voice gets louder with each step she takes and Rose thinks that if she moves quicker then the sound will go away—but it doesn't.

Walburga taunts her repeatedly and even as Rose rushes down a much wider steps she cannot escape. Instead, she crashes down at the halfway point, grasping onto the stone columns holding up the railing as brisk air blows through the small crevice between the wall and steps.

In a moment of clear weakness Rose attempts to remeber and think of anything she can to make the world fall silent. She rolls up the sleeves of her sweater and goes to grab the age-old bracelet Theo had given her at ten when the abuse started to get bad.

He promised her if she rubbed the onyx crystal enough he would know he was needed and would find her. For years and years it ended up with him sneaking into her room as kids, later on becoming teenagers and doing the same thing.

But there is no Theo. She made sure to push him so far away that they weren't even on the same earth anymore. This is what she wanted, right? To be utterly alone. Now there isn't even a proper thought in her mind.

There is only her, ruined on a staircase and Walburga Black ridiculing her for even thinking of calling on Theo for help. Every bad thing Walburga ever said about the boy starts to ring out as a screeching melody would.

Suddenly she's no longer breathing, no longer alive, no longer Rose—there is nothing but pain and her clutching at her head as she gives in to the voices—begging for the drugs to take over and silence everything.

*

An hour later Adrian Pucey was going on one of his usual late walks of the castle grounds when he made it almost to the half-way point of a random staircase and halted upon seeing a girl sitting there. He didn't need to see her face to know who it was. From the dark hair pulled back with a wand and tired head tilt toward the window where moonlight shone, every small detail told him it was Rose.

He could turn around or walk past her without a word. Rose didn't seem like her usual self anymore and he was a fan of the details which told him nothing about her was okay. Therefore, it would be highly unlikely that she would even acknowledge his passing by.

But for inexplicable reasons Adrian finds himself cursing internally and walking forward, taking a seat right next to her on the chilly steps.

With a long breath he rests his arms over both knees and trails his eyes over to look at Rose. She's already staring back but her gaze is hallow and she only offers a slight nod of hello. For fuck sake, he thinks to himself. He's not even close with her and usually he wouldn't give two shits but it's so very unsettling to see someone like her this way.

There's no life in her eyes and her personality seems void. The edges of her face are jutting out more than ever, to the point he becomes so distracted in studying her that he almost doesn't realize she's pulling a pill from her bag and placing it on her tongue.

Adrian runs a hand through his hair to feebly attempt taking the fringe from his eyes, "You sure you need another?"

She swallows thickly. "Don't judge me for what I do."

"I'm not judging you Rose" He shot back blandly. A contemplative second passed by, "It's just—you deserve better than this."

"And you don't?" Rose replied instantly. Each knew what they were referring too. Neither of them truly deserved to be hooked on drugs but then again, who did?

The answer is simple, no one.

Adrian reacts much differently than she expects. He's not cold nor is he spiteful in return. Instead, a ghost of a smile crosses his lips. Never would he compare trauma but he's almost sure if she knew his reasoning she'd have to do drugs after only hearing about it—just as he assumes the same would happen to him if she openly recalled every detail that led her to this moment.

She takes in a long inhale of breath as Adrian rubs his jaw, the silence between them almost too comforting.

"You know I always think it'll be my last time," Adrian's eyes train ahead at the staircase so long theres no end in sight, only a black shadow claiming the bottom. "Drugs, I mean. Each time I pick one up I find myself thinking if I just have one more second of relief I won't need another."

Rose raised her brows sluggishly, "That's never the case though."

"Never." His head shakes and he started to focus on the rings over his fingers, not used to discussing such but okay with doing so for an unknown reason. "Some people do it every so often at a party and never think twice about it again. Different for us though, yeah?"

Her reply is meek, "Yeah."

"You spend your whole childhood searching for that moment of true escapism and then you find it. There's no turning back from that and it's not your fault." Adrian speaks so truthfully that the words are overwhelming. He takes a deep breath and nudges her shoulder, "Not you though. You're meant for more than the rest of us."

"What if I don't want more?" Her head turns to him, peering over through half-lidded eyes. "What if I just don't want to be here now? I'm tired of fighting at every turn."

The only sign of shock on Adrian's face are his lips parting, "Why would you say that?"

"You ever think about how much better people's lives would be without you?" She holds his gaze. "I mean yeah they'd mourn and believe themselves to never get over it but they would because everyone eventually moves on. They find healing in others and forget about the dead."

"Tell me Rose," Adrian doesn't mean to sound frustrated but he does because hearing her admit what he thought her to feel scares him of the future. "Tell me one person who could ever be better off without you."

Rose shrugs slightly, "I don't know....Theo for example could have a chance of loving someone and having a real happy relationship. Someone to take on dates and to balls where she'd laugh at his jokes and everyone would talk about how he's the lucky one to have gotten such a bright, good-hearted girl known for being that way. Maybe he'd do well with some struggling girl but one without permanent issues, one that isn't hard to love and he could help work through her pain. I—I can't be healed over time like other people. I have an incurable problem, Adrian."

When Adrian stays silent she continues on, casting her eyes down toward his sleeve. "It doesn't matter what I do, I'll never deserve Theo and I'll never be that girl everyone congratulates him on getting. I'm the one people would make jokes about, tell him to buckle up and get ready to deal with that mess of woman. Trust me, the prophet would never write a headline about how Theodore Nott got with the shinning star of the wizarding world, a wholesome girl who brought out the best in him and those around...."

"Hey," Adrian grabs her chin with his pointer finger and thumb, titling upward to him. "But you are good-hearted and that's all that matters. No one wants any of that boring cliche with the bad guy getting the good girl. It's bullshit and so over done. What? The whole guy being awful or twisted and she's super morally aligned so he changes for her? They fight a few times over his morals and people call it passion? None of that is real."

"That's not the true point. Loving someone with unchangeable mental illness is a death sentence." Rose's face contorts and she pulls his hand down but doesn't let go, "Besides—How do you know what I'm like?"

"You're a fucking genius Rose, okay? It's the simple things we fall in love with so don't let your mind play tricks." Adrian doesn't know what takes him over or why he's so determined to make her see the truth. "I know you love those little books your always carrying around and you could beat anyone in the world with your intelligence but you never force them to be aware of that. You have all these outlandish beliefs everyone dismisses because there's no proof and I mean—there's so many crazy things you believe in that I couldn't even try to name them all."

Rose stays quiet but her eyes aren't leaving his face and it makes him keep talking. "I know you're never critical or judgmental, holding an open mind to where you have me believing there's something worth a damn in that head." Adrian forces himself to stop before he ends up naming every detail he's picked up about her over the course of his life, "My point is none of the bad shit defines you. I mean I'm an outsider looking in and just from those crumbs of details I can't even fathom what it'd be like to know you and lose you"

Rose was at a loss for words, unable to formulate a response as she stared at him. The only thing she could think to do was deflect, "Listen...I don't know how this conversation turned onto me."

His response came back instantly, "Because I wanted to talk to you. I like talking to you."

"You shouldn't." She spoke with spite toward herself.

A few brief moments of silence floated between them until her eyes fell close and she could feel each slowing beat of her own heart, beginning to suck in uneven breaths. "I—I think my hearts beating too slow...."

"Are you serious?" Adrian questioned, all of his attention turning onto her.

Rose nods to the best of her ability and slumps froward into her palms.

Worry flashed over him. Without a second thought Adrian turned Rose, bringing her legs over his knee and guiding her spine against the railing. When her head stayed tipped back and eyes stayed screwed shut, he began to grip on her chin.

"Look at me," Adrian demanded. She didn't listen, only sucking in such shallow breaths that she no longer looked to be breathing. His fingers patted her cheek, "Look at me Rose!"

Her eyes fluttered open weakly, rolling slightly from how much strength it took. "I—I just need you to grab the bag from my boot"

He doesn't hesitate to listen. Sliding one hand into the side of her neck for support while the other reaches down into the left laced up doc marten. Luckily, he feels a small baggy almost instantaneously and pulls it out.

"Stay with me, okay?" Adrian mumbles before opening the bag and dipping a finger inside, scooping up a tiny bit of the white powder.

He grasps back onto the side of her neck, saying anything he can while she leans forward and snorts the substance from his skin.

Her words are barely audible after and the ability to look at him is long gone, "Just—just give me one more and it'll be okay..."

Suddenly he's back to being fifteen and trying to save his cousin's life. This situation is all to familiar and it makes him breath heavily as he repeats the process, watching her take another scoop of the powder.

Rose's head falls against the railing once again, chin tipped up as her chest shakes and Adrian started to press two fingers into the pulse point on her neck.

The sound of her heart is the only thing she can hear. There's this single moment where she thinks this is the end.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

But then it starts to come back, slowly getting a beat faster each time.

"There she is" Rose mumbles shakily and breathless, "Thought....I was going to die there for a second"

"Fuck sake." Adrian pushed out, accidentally sounding angry but at least now his heart can calm down too.

"It just," She struggled to speak correctly, body still trembling as she cracks a smile. "It happens sometimes—I'm okay"

"You're okay." He affirms back and doesn't even have proper thought as he pulls Rose's head into his shoulder, needing to feel her heartbeat against his own.

Rose starts to laugh quietly and he tries to stay steady so she has something or someone to hold onto.

*

Inside the shared dorm, Theo sat on his bed with a hood drawn up, silent snores from the other boys filling the space as his watch turned to hit ten pm. Only Whitman was still drifting in between sleep and awareness, sat at the foot of Theo's mattress with a charms textbook open, leaned back against one of the bed frame poles.

Theo couldn't sleep just yet but he wouldn't wake up Whitman either. He needed Rose to get inside and be in her bed first. Would people call him dramatic? Yes. Was he being dramatic? No. Something is seriously wrong with Rose and maybe she would keep pushing him out but at least he could rest knowing she would be safe in bed for the next six hours at a minimum.

He heard the clicking of the golden door handle turning. In the low light of the few candles between his bed and Rose's he saw her stumble inside, barely standing upright.

Theo carefully peeled back the comforter. The socks over his feet provided a semblance of warmth against the stone floors as he started to walk toward her. She didn't seem to notice him though, going straight into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

The light underneath the framing flickered, signaling to him she had lit the candles. He hesitated before bringing up a fist and knocking gently on the wood, heart and gut twisting with the knowledge she was messed up on some substance.

"Ro?"

Silence.

"Are you okay in there?"

Silence.

Theo took a deep breath and leaned his shoulder on the door, planning to just wait. She'd come out and he'd help to her bed, force a sober up potion down her throat—then everything would be okay until tomorrow.

Whitman yawned tiredly from the bedpost, looking over to Theo. "What's going on? Ro not back yet?"

Just as Theo went to respond the loudest thud he'd ever heard sounded out from inside the bathroom. Without hesitation he flung open the door and spotted Rose laying on the white tile unconscious with a heap of hair strung across her face.

Horror took him over and his heart stopped at the sight. "Rose," he breathed out before rushing forward, dropping to his knees by her head and pushing the hair away as he started to smack at her cheek.

"Rose!" His voice raised and he kept smacking at her cheek as he leaned over her chest, trying to hear a heartbeat or intake of breath but there was nothing. No movement. No breathing. Only a pulse so faint he couldn't pick up on it.

"Whitman!" Theo screamed at the top of his lungs, eyes trailing over her face frantically. "She's not breathing!"

Theo began to lift Rose up slightly, lowering his shaking voice as he started to fully sit against the cabinets and bring her into his lap. "You're okay—you're fine," He cradled her head, "I'm here—I'm here."

He went back to smack at her cheek and took his ear to her mouth to attempt listening for a single sign she was still holding on as his chest shook and eyes filled with water. "Come on Ro—"

Whitman tumbled into the bathroom, barely managing out a question. "What happened?!"

"Wake up!" Theo demanded with a voice crack, clenching his jaw as tears fell and he shook her. "Whit, get—get one of those sticks!"

Quicker than ever, Whitman yanked open a drawer, pulling one of the cracking sticks used to wake them up when they got too drunk and everyone would get worried.

Whitman dropped to his knees, peeling the wrapping off. Theo kept trying to calm down and assure himself this would work. He stopped smacking at her cheeks and instead cradled her face. His other arm pulling Rose tightly against himself as Whitman snapped the small cylinder stick and held it under her nose.

They waited, and waited, but nothing came.

"No no no," Theo pleaded. As he went to adjust her, he spotted the blood on his fingers from the back of her head. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears and every moment of her laughter flashed in front of his eyes, time slowing down at once. "Please. Please wake up!"

Blaise and Draco tiredly walked into the bathroom, the latter speaking first. "What in the name of—"

Draco halted upon seeing Theo's bloody fingers cradling Rose into his chest. Just like that, his own heart seemed to stop.

"Go get Snape!" Whitman shouted unevenly. Neither moved a muscle, only stared ahead without taking a breath. Draco began to move forward but stopped as Whitman yelled again, "Go get him!"

"Now!" Theo forcefully screamed up at the two. Draco couldn't leave though, making Blaise have to yank him off into a run out of the bathroom.

"I'll—I'll get a cold towel, a towel." Whitman's voice quaked as he shakily stood up, wiping the non-stop tears away and quickly grabbing a rag from the metal racks.

The shrill ringing inside Theo's ears grew as droplets of water from his eyes hit her cheeks. "Please. Please. Please. Please..." Theo begged through a sob, "Please don't. Please—please don't do leave. Don't you dare leave me!"

His body shook, the cabinets being the only thing keeping him upward as he brought her face to his neck and tried once again to listen for breathing with no results. The sobs continued as he started to clutch onto her tighter than ever, switching between pressing his lips to her forehead and burying her against him.

Theo could barely register the soft fabric of a wet towel being set down next to him and Whitman's voice might've been inches away but it all remained muffled in his mind as the ringing turned into shattering glass.

He could only register Whitman pulling her downward to be able to see her face, his hold tightening in desperation to keep Rose close and never let go.

"Theo! You have to let me try to cool her down!" Whitman practically screamed and Theo just then realize Whitman was also a mess of tears.

Theo let go enough for Whitman to place the rag atop her sweaty forehead but not enough to where she wasn't still cradled in his arms. He turned his head up to ceiling. His eyes screwed shut, tears begging be let out as he pleaded to anyone, to save her. He plead to a God who had never helped before to spare his raven-haired girl, to save her soul and damn his own.

Whitman gasped loudly and his hand brushed Theo's chest as he went to touch her face as well.

The action made Theo slowly look down. A choked sob ripped through him at her hazy blue eyes staring directly into his own. Rose's lips were parted and she still barely breathed but she's alive—

"Ro?" Theo whimpered and frantically gasped her face in his hands, another sob escaping as he spoke the age-old line they shared. "You there?"

Time stood still as the universe absorbed into itself. There was no cabinet, no bathroom, no cool tile against their skin. There was only Theo and Rose.

"I'm here." She whispered brokenly, feebly attempting to reach for Theo's face to wipe the tears from his cheeks as his sobs worsened.

________________________________

A/N: well I'm crying!

—this chapter was a sheer heartbreak and half...

—god the ending actually killed me

—I know I always clarify this but please don't be like rose in times like this, I'm not glorifying her actions and I always try to show the repercussions of her decisions!

—but Adrian?? we love him and he's finally truly pushing through.

—i forgot how much I love taking time everyday to write this book it's so comforting even when it's crushing my soul. we've created a safe place i feel like 🤞🏼

—anyways go listen to hozier and think of Theo and rose🤝🏻

LOVE U GUYS

xx bri