A/N: This chapter is really quite melancholy and sad, but I hope that you will enjoy the journey that I take Daphne and Theo on over the next fifteen chapters as they grow into adulthood. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two next week.


Theodore Alfred Nott did not have many happy memories.

But, all of the happy memories that he did have involved his mother.

The product of a very unhappy marriage, Theo had no illusions that his birth improved relations between his parents, and if anything, only caused more strife. It couldn't be described as anything other than a political marriage, really.

His father, Alfred Nott, spent most of his time being a bigoted arse in the Wizengamot, trying to keep the flame alive that the Dark Lord had started, unwilling or unable to hide where his true loyalties lied like Lucius Malfoy had. Alfred was one of the Dark Lord's first followers, seeing as they'd been contemporaries at school. His mother, Cora Nott, nee Rosier, had been significantly younger than her husband, by several decades. She was everything a good pureblood girl should be - beautiful, witty, charming, and knew to keep her opinions to herself.

Their marriage was one of much gossip, seeing as it was rumored that Cora's father had been forced to give up his daughter by the Dark Lord himself, determined not to see one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families die out with his old friend Alfred. The couple was never seen out in public together, and Cora frequently would cry to her mother about how unhappy she was, and how terribly mean Alfred was, but her mother offered no other advice than to do her duty and provide Alfred with an heir. Then, she could withdraw from spending as much time with him.

Alfred was glad to learn that his family's line was ensured when he learned that Cora was expecting, and he'd been even more thrilled when the child was boy. In a rare moment of indulgence, he'd allowed Cora to select a name for their heir, and after that, he'd left most of the raising to Cora, except for daily lessons, starting once Theo had turned five.

Theo had inherited her toffee colored hair, but took after his father in all other physical characteristics. Sometimes he hated that he didn't have more of her in him, because when she was finally gone, the soft green of her eyes died with her, and he was left with his father's hateful blue eyes reflecting back at him in the mirror.

Despite looking rather like a miniature of the man who terrorized Cora's life at every turn, Theo had no doubt that his mother had always adored him. Even though Alfred filled her life with misery, she never resented Theo for their resemblance, instead determined to give Theo as loving and fun-filled childhood as he could possibly have with Alfred for a father. She was always aware of the need to counterbalance everything that Alfred did.

For the most part, mother and child were left to their own devices, his father perhaps too apathetic to think about his wife or only child until he had a use for them. It was in those halcyon days that Theo created his happiest memories of his mother, of his childhood, of his life.

They would spend hours walking around the grounds of Nott Manor, his mother being sure to point out all kinds of flora that they passed. Theo loved to look at and smell flowers, though his father often commented that it wasn't an appropriate subject for a boy. Still, his mother persisted, knowing that it was something Theo enjoyed. If he closed his eyes, he was sure he could still hear her gentle voice pointing out thistle or hawthorn or laurel, the wind buzzing in his ears, while they tramped around the Nott grounds.

When it was too cold outside, or if the weather just wouldn't cooperate, Theo and his mother would retreat to the rarely visited kitchen, to do something that Cora enjoyed. His mother had been a brilliant baker, both via magical means and by hand. Theo would only later realize how unusual this was, but at the time, seeing his mum measure out ingredients and hand mix dough seemed as natural to him as the sun rising in the sky.

Theo loved making biscuits most of all, as his mum would often let him mix up the dough all by himself, giving him gentle corrections. She would giggle seeing him playing with his sticky fingers, getting the mix all over his little face, and she would never scold him for eating some of the sweet substance. He liked it most of all when he would catch her dipping a finger in the dough, to give it a taste herself.

Though, like most things in Theo's life, all good things had to come to an end, and it seemed that his father was typically the harbinger. Theo had been so terrified when his father had finally intruded on their little hideaway, sending a blasting charm at the mixing bowl, chocolate mix and bits of glass going every which way. Theo had burst into tears, frightened of the loud noise, and the terrifying look on his father's face.

"Stop crying," his father had demanded of his four year old son, before rounding on his pretty, young wife. "How dare you teach my heir something so muggle? I will not stand for him being taught such filth, something befitting little more than a house elf," he'd seethed. Alfred Nott never raised his voice, but his calm and detached manner was almost more terrifying.

Perhaps not knowing how much it would anger his father, Theo had turned his face into his mother's leg, hiding his tears from view, unable to stop crying while they were shouting. His mother had wound her fingers into his hair, comfortingly, and Theo trusted her to protect him from his father.

"He likes it!" his mother had argued. "And I enjoy it as well. Theo is just as much my son as he is yours, and you won't tell me how to raise him."

"It's no wonder that your father had to settle for an old man for your husband," Alfred had seethed, his eyes narrowing. "Even I wouldn't have taken him up on his offer if he'd told me that you were a muggle lover." Turning to face a still sniffling Theo, he shook his head. "Cooking is women's work, and I will not have you further feminizing my son. Theo, stop crying, and go to your room," his father ordered, talking about subjects that he just didn't understand at the time, but that infuriated him when he thought back over the memories.

Not wanting to face whatever creative punishment that his father was sure to come up with, Theo nodded, practically running from the room, and the loud voices of his parents still fighting. He'd push his face into his pillow and wish that he was brave enough to stand up for his mother, same as she stood up for him. He hated when they fought, knowing how sullen his mother would grow in the days after, but he hated it more when the room grew silent, knowing that one of them had put up a silencing charm on the room, preventing him from hearing what was really happening.

Or, more accurately, what his father was doing to his mum.

Theo had always been so excited when he got to go on trips with his mother to France to visit his maternal great-grandmother. At the very least, it meant time away from Nott Manor, and thus Alfred Nott, seeing as his father would never deign to spending time with Cora's family. Being free from her husband, it was as if his mum was a new person, a weight lifted off of her delicate shoulders. She could laugh more freely, and Theo was positive that he had the prettiest mum in the world. It only made him wonder later just why she was with an angry old man like his father to begin with.

He could still remember the time that they went to France for his mother's birthday. As long as he could remember, his mum had always loved crups, and his great-grandmother's dog had just given birth to a litter of puppies. "Grand-maman says that we may select one puppy to take home and live with us, Theo," his mother said quietly, while they watched the puppies crawl all over one another in an effort to get to the food dish.

It didn't take him long to identify the one crup that seemed to be a bit of a loner within the litter. Always pushed to the edges by his littermates, the littlest pup seemed to be perfectly happy all on his own. Though he didn't see it that way at the time, Theo would later come to realize that he'd seen a kindred spirit in the crup. His mum had lifted his chosen crup out of the pen that they were playing in, and set the dog in Theo's lap.

The crup looked up at Theo with huge black eyes and from first sight, Theo knew that it was love. He pet the little pup's brown and white fur, watching as it waggled its forked tail back and forth in excitement at the new human that was handling. The crup was so excited that it jumped, covering Theo's face with licks and kisses. He'd fallen onto his back in a fit of giggles, and the puppy was only too happy to continue his love attack.

His mum's laughter joined in, before she was picking up the little puppy by his middle, rescuing her son from the overly enthusiastic beast. "I think he's perfect, don't you love?" she asked.

Theo had resolutely agreed, telling his mum that it was the only puppy that he wanted. The pair of them thought a long time about what they might like the name the dog, but finally, Theo had dubbed him Boots, on account of the way his paws looked as though they were covered by white boots. His mum had pushed back his hair, and pressed a kiss to his temple. "It suits him, love," she said, as if Theo was the most brilliant little boy for coming up with it.

There had been some commotion when they brought the crup home to Nott Manor, as Alfred was clearly unhappy with having such an unruly little pet having free reign of the Manor. Theo had hugged the puppy close, while he listened to his parents argue, but eventually his mum won the older man over with a promise that the crup would teach Theo responsibility. He was warned that if he didn't take care of Boots, the crup would be gotten rid of.

Even at age six, Theo had no illusions that that meant Boots would be given away to someone else.

With his mum's assistance, Theo had done everything he could to take good care of Boots. He loved to give the puppy baths, which the puppy seemed to love as well. They would play with the bubbles in the tub until Boots was cleaned, and his mum would always end up having to scourgify the bathroom when the crup would shake the water from his fur. Afterwards, Theo and Boots would always get to snuggle up together on a couch, warm and cozy.

His mum would show him how to feed the dog two times a day, and she never got upset if he forgot, instead gently reminding him that Boots needed food to grow big and strong, just as Theo needed to. They would go on long walks together, all over the grounds, and his mum always made sure that Theo knew to pick up after the dog. Occasionally, they would make efforts to train the little crup too, but he was much too willful to learn more than just the basic commands.

His memories of Boots were not so much dominated by the joy that the crup brought him, but more with catching the indulgent looks and smiles of his mum. There was the time that he and Boots had dug up the rose bushes, and ended up entirely covered in mud. He'd been expecting her to scold him for getting so messy, but instead, he caught her with her hand over her mouth, trying to hold back a laugh, but failing miserably. The thought of her, mirth sparkling in her eyes, still gave him a warm feeling in his chest, even though she'd been gone for many years.

It wasn't as if Theo spent all of his time mum.

Of course, he spent at least one hour each day revising with his father every day, a time that he grew to resent. He loved learning new things, but his father was so very strict, and was very harsh if he got something wrong. "Your mother has made you simple, focusing on muggle culture and that filthy crup," Alfred would sneer, his mustache bristling. "My heir will not be reduced to a simple crup trainer."

"I like Boots," Theo would say cautiously. "But I enjoy arithmancy more, father." It was true that Theo did like learning about arithmancy, finding comfort in the numbers, and puzzling out all the answers, it didn't hurt that it was also one of his father's chosen area of study. He knew in the long run the admission would only earn him a brief respite from his father's disappointment.

Theo was a very apt pupil, finding that he didn't enjoy being berated when he got something incorrect, so he rarely did. He already knew that he was paces ahead of Draco, who was so spoiled by his parents, that he frequently missed lessons with his tutor. He did not miss the subtle hints from his father, though, that he would be expected to get good marks at Hogwarts. There was no 'or else'.

In addition to his studies, he would also spend time with his best friend, Draco Malfoy. Draco's father was friends with Theo's father, so it stood to reason that they would spend time together, but common interests built a stronger bond between the young boys. Draco and Theo were both firm fans of the Puddlemere United Quidditch squad. Mr. Malfoy took them to several matches per year, and they loved running around their private box, stuffing themselves with pumpkin juice and pumpkin pasties, cheering on their favorites players - Theo's was a chaser by the name of Eric O'Doyle, whilst Draco's was a strapping beater called Damien Davies.

When they weren't watching Quidditch, they would fly around the grounds of either Malfoy or Nott Manor on their practice brooms, passing a quaffle back and forth, or trying to figure out how to subvert the childproofing charms that wouldn't let them fly more than five feet of the ground. Occasionally, they would play dragons and knights, but now that they were a bit older they didn't fancy it as much anymore. After all, six years old was far too old to be playing a kiddie game like dragons and knights.

Theo did have fun playing with Draco, but his blond friend was not the one who starred in his fondest childhood memories. Looking back, instead of remembering the time that Puddlemere had finished third in the league, he would remember the few hot summer days with his mum, learning to ride a horse, his mum walking patiently next to his side while he gained confidence. Or hazy afternoons lying out beside the pond on the very edge of the pond.

If he tried really hard, he could remember the time that his mum and him had gone swimming in that pond, bathing suits hastily transfigured from their clothes. Theo could still remember the way that his heart soared when his mum showed him how to splash, making huge waves of water with her outstretched fingers. She was normally so perfect, never a hair out of place, but in that moment, she was free with him, free to play around.

As usual, when they returned to the manor, laughing and hair still dripping wet, his father had blown a gasket. Theo was sent to his room, and given a bath by an extremely pushy house elf. And all the while, his father had forgotten his carefully placed silencing charms, and he could hear his father shouting at his mum for letting Theo roam around the grounds like a heathen. Theo never understood the link that swimming was somehow involved with muggles, but he quickly learned that anything involving muggles meant that his father would lash out. It was enough to make him withdraw from some of the activities that he loved, if only it would mean that his mum wouldn't get hurt.

He still remembered the sound of her crying, pleading with his father, that Theo was just a boy and that he deserved to have fun.

The next time that she asked him to make biscuits, Theo declined, saying that he'd rather go practice flying his broom. Her perfect eyebrows had bunched together, and even though she tried to mask it, it was clear to Theo that he'd hurt her, even though he was only trying to keep her out of trouble with his father.

...

Theo must have been around seven years old when his mum made a decision that would change his life irrevocably. He'd often looked back and wondered what had pushed her to do it, but he never felt like he had a good understanding of her decision. He knew that his mum only ever wanted what was best for him, but he wondered if she knew how it was going to affect his life.

As long as he could remember, his mum had been very close with Ella Greengrass, a woman who was just as pretty as his mum. They took after each other in coloring, and some would have said that they could have passed as sisters, though Ella was always a bit more blonde. Honestly, with the way that pureblood families were so tangled and mixed up, he couldn't be positive that they weren't related.

Theo like Ella alright, who always had butterscotch candies to give him, but whenever his mum would spend time with her, it meant that he was required to spend time with Ella's two bratty daughters.

Daphne Greengrass was a miniature of her mum, with golden blonde hair and green eyes, not yet a picture of pureblood beauty as she was still too gangly and her teeth hadn't fully grown in yet. She never had a hair out of place of the twin plaits she wore down the back of her head. Daphne was a few months younger than him and would be in his year at Hogwarts, but was always taller than him while they were children, a fact that she was fond of reminding him of.

Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, was the opposite of Daphne, with her dark wavy hair that seemed to be perpetually tangled, and bright blue eyes that his mum always said boys would swoon over when they got older...whatever that meant. Astoria was two years younger than Daphne and Theo, and she was a needy little thing, always trailing her sister around.

Theo hated playing with the Greengrass sisters. Unlike Draco, they never wanted to play dragons and knights, instead preferring to hold tea parties, even though their cups didn't even hold any tea. Daphne would hold her nose up at him and sniff continuously about how boys never had any manners, which always offended Theo mightily. His mother always said she appreciated how exceptionally well mannered he was, so he knew that she couldn't be right.

He gave up on arguing with Daphne pretty much immediately, knowing that she didn't seem to care for his opinions on matters. So, when he was forced to play with the Greengrass sisters while his mother and her friend would hide their faces behind teacups, talking quietly about Merlin knew what, he would sit quietly, cowed into doing whatever the pair wanted.

At least Astoria could be counted on to bring him a little laughter. She was prone to bouts of accidental magic, and her outbursts always seemed to be focused at her older sister. Theo sometimes still dreamed of the time that Astoria had turned Daphne's long blonde hair bright green, and he hadn't been able to hold back his laughter.

Daphne had cried, of course, and ran back to her mother who was able to fix the effect with just a simple wave of her wand. But, Daphne never had forgiven him for laughing, turning and looking at him with such fury. "I hate you, Theo Nott!" she'd shouted, anger shaking her little body. "And I will never be friends with you," she vowed.

So, he was surprised of course, when his mother would talk to him about how close he and Daphne would be as they got older. "Of course, the two of you make such a handsome couple," she said with a grin, one evening after Ella had taken her brats home. "You look so sweet together. Even Ella agrees."

Theo had protested, telling her that he thought Daphne had eyes like a toad, and hair like hay, and he hated her nose always held up in the air.

His mother had just laughed. "You might think that now of course, but you wait in a few years, you won't be able to keep your eyes off of her," his mum promised him, giving him a look over her drink. "You'll imagine that you've always liked her."

As he shook his head, so insistent that he would not ever grow to like Daphne Greengrass, Theo watched as his mother's eyes softened. She gave him a cryptic look that he still didn't understand to this day - the memory so burned into his memory - before she sighed. "I only want you to be happy, Theo," she'd told him, in a rare moment of unconcealed concern. "I want more for your life than...what your father and I have. Do you understand?" she asked.

Theo hadn't understood, but he so desperately wanted to reassure his mother that he'd nodded his head in agreement. If there was one thing that he was certain of, it was that he didn't want to end up anything like his father.

...

His mother's funeral was the worst day of his life.

Looking back, it was even worse than the long year at Hogwarts with the Death Eaters in charge, or the final battle, or the day that Dumbledore died. It was even worse than the day that she died. Every moment that he was forced to stand next to his father in his formal dress robes, his face stoic and measured, it felt as if he was disgracing her memory.

He could not cry, because of course, his father would never allow him to cry in front of other people, but inside, his heart was broken. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to never explore the grounds without her again or never eat her biscuits again. How was he meant to go off to Hogwarts in just a few short years if his mother wasn't there to send him off on the train? Who would help break up the misery of existence that his father imposed on him?

He hated how his father could stand there, accepting condolences for the loss of his wife, when he was responsible for her death.

Theo couldn't recall what the argument was about, in particular, but he did remember that it seemed trivial in response to his father's rage. His father had shouted at his mother, until she cowered in fear on the settee, and his father still menaced forward, until his hands were wrapped around his mother's neck.

Even though he was just a child, he'd tried to stop his father, pleading with fat tears in his eyes, for his father to just let her go - couldn't he see the terrified look in his mum's eyes, wild and surprised, his fingers clawing into the skin of his hands? All Theo had gotten for his trouble was a swift backhand and a bloody lip. His mother had still died all the same, and Theo had to live with the knowledge that his father was unequivocally a monster.

After the funeral was completed, Theo had wanted nothing more than to hide away in his room, like he'd done since his mother died, and curl up in bed with Boots, his faithful crup. He wondered if the heartache that he felt could ever possibly go away, or if it was something that he was destined to live with for the end of his life.

However, reprieve did not come easily, which his father pressing his withered hands to his young heir's shoulders, guiding him to his father's study. He poured himself a sturdy glass of firewhiskey before adding a splash into another heavy tumbler for Theo. Theo had taken a small sip, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch, and tried not to make a face at the burn in his throat.

His father had laughed at him, one of the first times that Theo had seen the man express any form of mirth, only to scowl when he saw the reproachful look Theo gave him. "Don't look at me like that, boy," his father scolded swiftly. "You'll thank me for it one day."

Theo wasn't sure if he was referencing the firewhiskey or his mum, but he doubted that he could ever find it in his heart to feel anything but hatred for the older man.

Taking a long drink, his father pressed the crystal glass to his head, his eyes going to someplace else while the fire crackled away in the hearth. "I'll admit, your mother did at least one good thing in her sorry life, besides giving me you," he said, spitefully. When Theo did not take the bait to ask him what it was, his father prodded him. "Aren't you going to ask me what it was, boy?"

"What was the one good thing my mother did?" Theo asked, his voice sounding impossibly small and sullen. He wanted to shout at his father and tell him all the amazing things that his mother was capable of, and had showed him, but he knew that it wasn't wise to purposely antagonize the man.

"She arranged a betrothal for you," his father answered, a smile on his face. "Would you like to know who your future bride is?"

Theo was stunned to hear that his mother would have done something like that, when he knew how desperately unhappy she'd been in her own arranged marriage. He was hurt that she would have done something like that without discussing it with him first. "Who am I to marry, father?" he asked, feeling a lump form in his throat.

"Someday, once you've both left your schooling, you will marry Daphne Greengrass," his father said, delighting in the look on his heir's face. "Your mother might have been a muggle lover, but at least she knew the right sort of stock to choose from. The Greengrasses are just as pure as us, and that's not something many families can boast of. I'm sure Abraxas Malfoy is already furious to know that we've gotten one of the them already."

Theo didn't particularly care what the Malfoys thought. He knew that he didn't want to marry Daphne Greengrass, the annoying girl with the twin plaits. In his mind, he could think of nothing but her promise that she would never be friends with him. Had his mother doomed him to a marriage that would be as utterly unhappy as his parents had been?

At least he knew that he would never treat Daphne like his father treated his mother.

With a shudder, Theo stood up from the couch. "May I be excused, father?" he asked, worried that he was about to break down and cry right there in front of him.

More concerned with his whiskey than his child, his father waved him away. Theo retreated to his bedroom, hating the tears that rolled down his cheeks the whole way. When he got back to his room, he let himself cry as hard as he needed, the whole time wondered just what his mother had been thinking. He wished then more than ever that she was there to comfort him, to explain.

He remembered her promises that he and Daphne made a handsome couple and he wondered if she was able to see something that he hadn't. She'd been insistent that their feelings would change as he grew older. Was that possible?

His father had said that he wasn't to marry Daphne until they both completed their schooling, so he supposed that it was many years before that day would come. After all, he was still years off from even starting at Hogwarts, let alone graduating. They had time to change and grow.

Staring out his window, Theo decided then that he would just have to show Daphne that he wasn't a rotten little boy any longer. He'd show her that he could be a good husband, being a dutiful betrothed. He'd give her gifts and escort her to dances and he'd be perfect and he'd make his mother proud, even if she wasn't there to see it. Over time, he was sure that Daphne would recognize the changes he'd made, and then maybe she would take back her words - that she hated him. They had time to figure things out together.

Afterall, if his mother thought that the relationship would work, there must be some reason for it. He just needed to find it.