After leaving Greg's, Tracey Apparated directly into her bedroom at Whittom. Of course, today had been one of the days that the elves had actually listened to Theodore when he had asked them to leave the room as he and Tracey left it in the morning. It seemed that five years without a house-elf had turned Theo into the type who liked to know that when he put something down one day it would still be there the next.

The bed wasn't made, her dressing gown still lay on the floor where she dropped it that morning when Theo kissed her as she stepped in from the shower, and the rest of the room was in various degrees of mess expected when two people had been too busy enjoying one another to care about tidying up.

Tracey willed herself not to cry, but it was hard when confronted with even little things reminding her of him. Even something as pathetically small as the copy of Dante's 'Inferno' on his bedside table ripped her heart out. She couldn't do this. "Baxter!"

The little elf appeared and looked at his mistress apprehensively. "Yes, Mistress?"

"I want this gone," she said, gesturing to the room. "Everything of Theodore's. Back in the blue room. It was a mistake to move it here." Everything was a mistake. She could see him start to argue with her so she cut him off before he could begin, "All of it, Baxter. Even the painting. Send the painting to the attic. I don't wish to see it any more." I don't need to be reminded of what I was feeling for him when it was done. That Tracey was too hopeful. This one will never be again. Shaking her hair out of her face, she eyed the room miserably and settled on the little glass lotus on her bedside table. A stabbing of pain ripped through her heart as she firmly picked it up and smoothed her hands over it before throwing it out the bedroom door where it shattered against the wall in the hall. "Now move!"

The elf jumped a little at her outburst and then quickly set out to completely remove the memory of Theodore Nott out of her bedroom. Though it was only a few hours until that memory would become a reality... when he came home from work. She realised that she wouldn't be able to face him as she was sitting on her floor facing the door. What she'd told Greg was true. Theo hadn't done anything wrong. That thing with Pansy, it must have happened before he moved in here. Pansy had said two weeks, that was before they were together. How could she be angry with him for something that all blokes did when they weren't in a relationship? Tracey groaned and lay down on the floor, curling up into a ball. She wouldn't let the tears fall, but her heart hurt so much she wanted to scream at how unfair the world was.

He'd told her he loved her. She'd finally given in to something she had wanted for so long and it was all a lie. She was just a random witch, someone you shagged but didn't care about. She was exactly what she'd always hated. The bint you shagged until something better came along. And he'd certainly shagged her a lot. She'd been a vile idiotic fool. He probably thought she was pathetic. Holding a torch for so long. He had to be laughing at her this whole time... pathetic, silly witch that she was. She should have been grateful that Theo had bothered to stay these few weeks, to humour her. That he hadn't slipped away after that first night.

He had told her he loved her. What kind of a person said that when it was all a lie? She was suddenly grateful she had never returned the sentiment out loud. She had wanted to, she had even said it a few times while watching him sleep, but what a great joke it would have been had he heard her say it. Her heart was constricting in her chest and it was all she could do to just hold on to her knees and keep the tears from coming. How could I have just shagged him? I wanted him so badly. I'd wanted him for so long. It didn't matter to me that it'd been so quick. It didn't matter because I loved him. I set myself up for this. It's my fault. All my fault.

She had no idea how long she laid there, consumed with her own misery. It was late, the sun was already making shadows through the big windows. It was only when she heard someone try the doorknob that she flinched even a single muscle.

Theo tried openly the door, but it was locked. He raised his fist to knock, but hesitated. Why was the door locked? "Tracey?" he called through the door.

She didn't answer, she just dragged herself across the floor and managed to sit up, back against the door. You should have known it wasn't real, she snidely told herself. You meant nothing. Once he knows you know, he'll be gone.

"Tracey? Are you all right?" Theodore tried to unlock the door with his wand. It wasn't moving. Perhaps she was more of a genius with charms than she gave herself credit for. Standard charms weren't working.

Please go away. I can't let you see me like this. I have to have this for myself. You've already taken so much. Can't you just let me grieve without you? Tracey silently pleaded as she put her head on her knees and tried to block out Theo's voice from the other side of the door.

The silence was frightening. The house-elves had told him she was there, but what if she'd been hurt or something.

Theo knocked again. "Are you hurt, Trace? Are you okay?" A house-elf moved by him shaking his head sadly. Ignoring the creature, Theo tried unlocking the door again.

"Your clothes aren't in there anymore, Master. Was there something you needed?" a second house-elf piped up from behind him, making him jump.

He turned around. "What did you say?"

"Your clothes aren't in there."

"What do you mean? Where are they?"

"The blue room!" the house-elf wailed running away.

Theo stood there, frozen in shock. What the hell is going on?

He was tempted to knock a second time, but when he looked at the closed door something in him flared. He stormed into the guest bedroom in question to see if the elves had it right. Everything was there. Folded neatly and hanging properly. Everything down to the very last sock. His book on the desk. His cloak over the back of the chair. He had been ingraciously moved out of their bedroom and he had no idea why.

Baxter came out of the shadows and handed him a glass of firewhisky. "You needs this, Master. The Mistress isn't coming out for anything, sir. Lunch must have been very bad today. Usually she's happy after she is shopping with Miss Pans."

Theo froze. "Pansy Parkinson?" The elf nodded. Shite. It suddenly occurred to Theo had he never had been able to tell Tracey he slept with Pansy that night. She had always interrupted him with sex or by kissing him. He knew what was bothering her now, and for what he did know of her -- not how much he should know of her since it was suddenly clear he did not know her completely -- this seemed like both a ridiculous reaction and a completely normal one. "I always wanted my first time to be with you." The words she had said to him after their first time echoed in his head, fueling the fire to his guilt and anger.

So she just kicks me out? Without an explanation? Without letting me to explain? he thought bitterly.

The anger disappeared as soon as it appeared. He felt guilty, sad, and suddenly, very very alone as he said down on the edge of the bed.

He sighed. It was such a strange situation. It made no sense. Why didn't she come talk to him? Let him try to explain? Apologize? Apparently, he meant nothing to her and now that she knew she had "shared" him, he was kicked out. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it aside. He knew, deep down, that wasn't the reason at all. She was likely hurting and confused.

Looking around the room mournfully, he stood up and walked back down the hall. Hating the feeling in his gut as he did. He had no clue what to say. Stopping at the door he lifted his hand to knock once again, but dropped it after it was extended a minute in the air. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, dropping his forehead against the door.

Tracey could hear him when he came back to her bedroom door. It bumped and she could only assume he'd put his head against the door. Please don't do this to me. Just leave me alone, she thought.

"Tracey?" he whispered through the door, unsure if she could hear him or not. "Tracey, please talk to me. Let me in, please." I beg you, he added to himself unable to get rid of his pride enough to say it aloud.

Her throat was raspy, it had been clenched tightly to hold back her tears all afternoon. She cleared it before leaning her head back against the door and quietly saying, "Please don't Theo. I feel...I just. I can't right now. I can't see you." I'll break. "I'm sorry." For everything.

"There is no reason for you to be sorry," he said, "I'm the one who is sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you." He paused, letting out a breath of relief that at least she was talking to him now. "I know there's nothing I could do to fix this, but if... just talk to me. Let me in," he pleaded. It felt as though his heart was being squeezed in a vice. It was killing him not to be able to hold her, to comfort her. His own irrational anger toward her was now directed to himself, where it belonged. She was hurting, she could react anyway she pleased. He leaned back against the door, and found himself looking at a pile of glass on the floor. Reconginizing it immediately, he moved to it. Kneeling beside it, he pulled out his wand and charmed it fixed. The lotus flower was perfect as if it had never been... thrown. He turned back to the door, leaning his forehead against it once again, unable to say anything.

He placed his hand on the door, palm down. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, leaning now and placing the fixed glass flower beside the door as if it was a peace offering or perhaps an apology of some sort.

There was only silence from the other side of the door.




(Summary: Tracey comes home to break one of the most meaningful things to her, and Theo comes come to get his heart broken.)