CHAPTER TEN

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Theo had never really thought about what made his father crazy, but as Elana grew and he built his bond with her, he couldn't help but find himself hating his father and questioning his sanity more than ever before. Elana was his world, his everything and had his father still been alive, he would have berated Theo and called him weak for loving her and Hermione as he did. He didn't understand the motivation for that kind of hatred and bitterness, no matter how hard he tried.

How had his father looked at him when he had been Elana's age and seen only an heir? How had he looked at a three year old Theo and shown no remorse as he pulled off his belt and lashed him with it? When Theo was seven and his father had left him in his room with no food or drink for a week, what did it take to become so cruel and twisted?

He loved his daughter, as much as he loved his wife but so very differently. He knew that Hermione could defend herself but Elana was his to protect, defenceless on her own and would look to him for the rest of his life for guidance and support, which Theo absolutely revelled in and he couldn't help but wonder how he had grown up to be so completely opposite to his father.

One morning when Elana was two months old, Hermione had entered the nursery to find him holding the little girl against his bare chest, using the rocking chair to sooth her and found him sobbing as he looked down at the sleeping baby. Carefully scooping Elana up and placing her gently down in her cot, Hermione returned to him and kneeled in front of him, gently wiping his tears with her thumbs.

"Theo? What's wrong, love?" She asked with a concerned frown on her face and he shrugged.

"How could any man look at a child and hate them so much that they could beat them, Maya?" He croaked and she sighed, pulling him against her, "how could someone hate their own son?"

"I really don't know, Theo," she said, rubbing his back, "has having Elana brought things forward in your mind?"

"I guess," he nodded against her shoulder before pulling back and rubbing his eyes, "I just don't get it. I look at her and I feel so much love it might consume me. How could my own father look at me and abuse me?"

"I don't know, love," she said gently, stroking his hair from his face, "do you think it might help if you talked to someone about this?"

"Like who?" He asked and she shrugged.

"You could ask George about his counsellor," she suggested, "It might help to talk about it with someone who could help you understand how your father's mind worked, or whether he had some kind of mental illness as I think he did."

"You do?" He asked and she nodded.

"You're right, I don't understand how anyone could abuse any child, letalone a parent do it to their own child," she sighed, resting her hands on his chest, "but it's definitely not normal, and maybe if you heard that from someone more qualified than me it would help you to move past it."

"I hav-"

"If you had moved past it, sweetheart, we wouldn't be having this discussion," She told him, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek, "now come back to bed until she wakes up and let me hold you, I think you need it."

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As Theo lay with his head on her stomach and she dragged her fingers through his hair, which was much too long and he definitely needed a haircut, Hermione worried about her husband. Ever since Elana had been born, pretty much, he had been thinking about his own father and how he had been treated at his hands. How his mother had been treated also weighed on his mind.

She knew that he was concerned that his father had passed something, some kind of darkness onto him but Hermione found that laughable. Theo was the most calm, most loving and most gentle person she had ever known. He held her, and their daughter for that matter, with such care and tenderness that she didn't think there was any darkness within him at all. He had a bad history, full of things that made her shudder with revulsion and pain, but he had come out of it all as this wonderful man, and she was so proud of him for that.

"Theo?" She asked and he hummed against her stretch marked stomach, "I love you, you know that don't you?"

"I know, Maya," he said gently, lifting his head and looking up at her, "I love you too. I'm sorry for being so…"

"Scarred? Hurt? Haunted? Normal? They're all true, Theo."

"I think I should ask George about that counsellor… He said it really helped him, and I don't want to cause upset to you or Elana." He told her and she smiled sadly, pulling him to lay beside her.

"Elana and I will love you with all of our hearts regardless," she said seriously, "but you need to do this for yourself."

"Thank you." He whispered and she smiled.

"You're welcome," she said, kissing him on the lips before pulling back, "now tell me what for."

"For being you," he snorted, "for being so understanding and supportive."

"I'm your wife," she said, "I will always support you and try to understand."

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A week later, Hermione waved Theo off at the floo as he left for his first counselling session and although he was a little tearful on his return an hour and a half later, he seemed to smile a little brighter and his steps appeared lighter, like he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders any more. She was glad to have suggested it and thankful that he had taken her advice so well. She hoped that, with time, he would be able to look forward than be stuck looking back.