A/n: Trigger warning: Alecto gets nasty again in this chapter so there's a bit where the squeamish amongst you might need to brace yourselves (or do a little bit of skim reading).

Ch 25: Don't Worry About Me

Theo

Parvati continued to lean all her weight on to Theo, her arms clasped around his shoulders, as he felt her body shudder from the remains of her orgasm. He breathed in the scent of her hair as it brushed against the tip of his nose, trying to mentally bottle it, even though he knew the memory would never be enough.

Part of him wanted to conjure a cushion, or better still a bed, and for them to lie together, whilst he wrapped his arms tightly around her and listened to her heartbeat slow until, maybe, she'd fall asleep. But of course he couldn't do that - that was all idealistic fantasising - so he mentally shook those thoughts from his mind.

Parvati's breathing eventually returned to normal, and she must have regained strength in her legs, because she gradually eased her weight from him, straightened up and pulled away. He instantly missed her touch.

"He's looking for something abroad, but you don't know what it is, although it's likely to be an old magical artefact?" she asked, in a surprisingly terse, business-like way.

He'd been worried she'd be upset - that there might have been tears. Or at least she would have been angry, with how he had been - with what he had said whilst he did the things he had to her body. This matter-of-factness, this detachedness, unnerved him. For once, he couldn't read her.

"Yes," he confirmed cautiously, taking a few steps back from her.

"And Malfoy Manor's still headquarters, although he hasn't forgiven the family?" Again, a calm, clipped tone, as she reached down and efficiently replaced her underwear.

"Yes," he said again.

She continued to ask clarifying questions of everything that he'd said, whilst straightening her clothes and buttoning up her coat. He realised she was double-checking the information, to ensure she'd remembered it accurately and thoroughly. It was all true, of course. As long as he wouldn't be revealed as being the source of the information - and for some reason he trusted undoubtedly that she'd ensure that wouldn't happen - he'd been happy to tell her everything he knew.

He was impressed by her level headedness and her calm ability to handle the situation now. Despite the words he'd whispered to her about his family, and the potential threat implied in them, she didn't seem scared, or even put-out at all. In fact, as he took in her cool demeaner and efficient manner, it was him that started to feel small. It seemed that she was the one that was turning out to have upper hand in this whole exchange. But he reaslied that he wasn't sorry for that.

After she'd gone through all the information surprisingly thoroughly and he watched her walk towards the door to leave, he wondered if she actually had quite a bit of Slytherin in her.

But then, as her hand rested on the door to open it, she did something that wouldn't be out of place in a Hufflepuff. She looked at him with a sad smile on her face and said softly, "Happy Christmas, Theo."

Then she turned and left, with her head bent and shoulders hunched against the cold of the night, disillusioning herself as she did so. She must have used a Cover Charm this time because the snow remained untouched where she would have been walking, as if she'd never been there at all.

Later, Theo tried to make sense of it all - tried to make sense of himself.

He admitted to himself that he was more than just intrigued by Parvati now, that his desire for her - his need - was almost wretched. But he couldn't start letting her in. Because she was making feelings bubble up and spit from that place deep inside him. Feelings he hadn't properly felt - hadn't let himself feel - for years. Dangerous feelings - affection, concern, compassion, for fuck's sake.

Dangerous feelings, because if you cared about people, then others could exploit that. And there were two people in the world Theo admitted he genuinely cared about already. Probably two too many and he didn't need another one.

Why had she come into his life like this, invading his conscience, taking his attention in the day and making him sweat and ache with want at night? It annoyed him - she annoyed him, as well as making him feel a whole array of other things.

So that's what he'd channelled when he'd taunted her with his words and teased her with his fingers. That was why he'd done it and said what he'd said at the end. But also because, again, she needed to be reminded of what he was. Because what he'd said about his family was true. From what he'd learnt in the letters he received from home, and from the other children of Death Eaters, his father was currently Voldemort's favourite. The information the Nott patriarch held about the history of dark magic, and the whereabouts of ancient wizarding artefacts, seemed to be enough for Voldemort to keep his father and the whole Nott family close by his side. Which was something that made Theo feel distinctly uncomfortable.

And it also meant Parvati Patil needed to stay away from him and keep her distance, for her own safety. But also, he admitted now, for his sake too. Because if she got too close, he didn't know what would happen if that cauldron of despair and hurt and care and love and all those other emotions erupted, and the lid that he'd been pressing down on it for years burst off, violently and irrecoverably.

Okay, it was official: a lion's pride was its downfall.

Because Finnigan had gone and done it again. The second essay he'd given in to Alecto had also been littered with the word 'Muggle-borns' rather than 'mudbloods'.

"You seem to have a problem with writing?" Alecto screeched as she waved Finnigan's essay in the air.

It was like déjà vu. Although something uncomfortable rippled in the pit of Theo's stomach because this time, Theo knew Finnigan would be suffering more than a minute or so of Crucio.

"No, miss," Finnigan said innocently. He was standing at the front of the class again, his shoulders squared and his voice steady, and Theo had to admire his courage, even if it was terribly misdirected.

The Carrows had become less and less tolerant of any disobedience as the weeks had rolled into mid-December and the end of winter term had gotten closer. As the younger - and some of the older - students yielded to the Carrows' doctrine and regime, it had become increasingly obvious that a certain Harry Potter-following band of merry witches and wizards were not complying with it. Which was making the Carrows angry, if their pep talks at I.S. meetings were anything to go by.

"Then why have you made so many mistakes here again? You understand it is an invaluable opportunity to receive an education such as the one gifted at this school?! A privilege that you are able to write at all? A honour to be able to cast magic with wands - especially considering your parentage?! You did not learn this lesson last time Finnigan - what will it take for you to learn this time? If you willingly abuse the privilege of being able to write with quills and ink, then maybe it is better if you are not able to write at all!?" Alecto's voice had risen an octave higher with every sentence she spoke and Theo had wondered if the windows would start to crack. Then she took a deep breath and made a sweeping motion with her wand which cleared her desk that she was standing behind. "Put your right hand on the table, palm down," Alecto demanded, her voice deadly calm now.

Finnigan took a few tentative steps towards the desk, and gingerly placed his hand down on it.

"This is your writing hand and your wand hand, correct?" Alecto asked brightly.

"Yes," Finnigan confirmed, his voice not so steady anymore.

"Then you may have to learn to do both again with you other hand. From scratch. Like a little child." Alecto bit out, tauntingly.

Comprehension of Alecto's intentions quickly dawned on Theo and, unusually, for just a few seconds, Theo's thoughts collapsed into an incomprehensible mess: Oh no. No. No, no, no. Because Theo knew by now that dark wounds were Alecto's specialty and if she wanted to render Finnigan's hand useless, she wouldn't just be breaking bones that could be re-grown. She would ensure that Finnigan's hand was damaged indefinitely.

"I'll start here," Alecto murmured, as if talking to herself, and pointed her wand an inch or so from Finnigan's index finger, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "Sectumsempra digitus!" she incanted firmly.

Finnigan let out a strangled noise of pain as a band of red blood formed around the base of his index finger. As the band got thicker and blood started to flow from it, Finnigan seemed to instinctively pull his hand away, but Alecto quickly mumbled an incantation that seemed to hold it in place.

"What is the correct term for an apparent witch or wizard born from Muggle parents?" Alecto asked Finnigan, her voice sharp.

"Muggle-born." Finnigan hissed the answer through clenched teeth and Theo couldn't help but roll his eyes in exasperation.

In response, Alecto seemed to hold her arm more tautly, her frown deepening. Blood started to pour profusely on to the desk as the dark witch's curse gouged deeper into flesh. Finnigan released a strangled whimper and his limbs jerked violently. Theo thought he knew the exact time when Alecto hit bone because Finnigan let out a sharp, hard, agonised yell. Theo was trying to think how he could stop it all without too much shit hitting a-very-dark-fan when someone cried out.

"No - please!"

Theo recognised who it was without having to look. It was Parvati's cry and it was like a deep stab to his heart. His eyes flickered over to the back of her head, then quickly away again because focusing on her would make all this much harder. They hadn't spoken since the night in the broom shed, which was just over a week ago now. When they did happen to cross paths in the halls or happened to look at each others way in class, both of them had maintained unreadable expressions, their blank eyes drifting over each other, as if trying to pretend the other wasn't there.

"Silencio! Immobulus!" Alecto abruptly raised her wand from torturing Finnigan to sweep it around the room, rendering all the class speechless and motionless from the neck down. They could only move their heads now, which many of the class were doing - looking at the wall, or out the window, or just down at their desk. Anywhere but at the horror that was being enacted at the front of the classroom.

"Incorrect! What is the correct term for an apparent witch or wizard born from Muggle parents?" Alecto's voice was rushed and impatient now - not a good sign.

"Muggle-born," Finnigan managed again.

Next to Theo, Draco shook his head agitatedly and Theo knew that if Draco could speak, he would have been muttering curses again. Theo could smell the fear and the cortisol - the stress hormone - coming from nearly everyone in the room.

" Sectumsempra digitus," Alecto incanted again and, after a few more seconds, Finnigan let out a noise that was half-grunt half-whimper, as his abuser finally lowered her wand. The Gryffindor slowly slid his shaking hand towards himself, across the table, through a puddle of his own blood.

Only, his index finger didn't move with the rest of his hand but stayed where it was, severed and detached. Theo's stomach turned at the sight of it.

"You will not be able to recover that finger, Finnigan. Not ever. I will ensure it. Place your hand back," Alecto stated dispassionately.

Blood, thick like syrup, was starting to drip off the side of the desk as Finnigan cautiously replaced his hand. The sickening, metallic smell of it was thick in Theo's nose and the back of his throat.

"Now, let's start on your middle finger. Until you appear to have learnt this ever so simple lesson, I will not stop," Alecto exclaimed wryly.

Alecto raised her wand again and cried out Snape's cutting curse for a third time. A red band formed around the base of the Irish boy's middle finger this time, blood quickly seeping from it to join the pool on the desk.

"Mudblood!" Finnigan blurted out. Alecto immediately stopped and lowered her wand.

"Pardon?" she sneered.

"Mudblood. The name for a witch or wizard born from Muggle parents. Mudblood," Finnigan said to the bloody mess that was his hand, in a voice of utter defeat. A Gryffindor that's lost the battle of daring, nerve and valour. And lost it badly.

"And your previous fellow housemate, the fugitive Hermione Granger, what is her blood status?" Alecto asked innocently.

Finnigan raised his head to look at Alecto. Theo couldn't see his expression, but imagined it was one of utter disgust.

"Mudblood." The word was mumbled with regret, as Finnigan returned his gaze to his hand. Or what was left of it.

"And Dean Thomas, is that his name? Also a known fugitive. What is his blood status?"

"Mudblood." Finnigan managed to hiss without moving his lips, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Justin, Colin, Dennis, Cho, they're all filthy mudbloods! Satisfied?"

Theo could sense the utter hatred towards Alecto simmering in the bitterness of the Gryffindors' words. And that was the thing with torture, Theo thought. It may make people terrified enough to obey their oppressors, but at the same time it increased the hatred and anger towards them. Or else rendered the victims insane, like the Longbottoms.

"Yes, I think I am satisfied," Alecto said curtly. "Very well. I trust you to remember this lesson. And to write the essay a third time, using the appropriate language."

Alecto looked around the class and pointed at Lavender Brown. "You! Take him to the hospital wing. Just to seal the wound and replenish lost blood. Tell Pomfrey I forbid her to administer any other healing or re-growing spells. Not that they'd work anyway. But either way, I will know and the consequences will be worse than this!"

Alecto waved her wand around the room, reversing her silencing and immobilising hexes. Brown immediately jumped up from her seat and hurried to Finnigan, supporting him to stand by putting his arm with his good hand around her shoulders. He was pale and faint, probably from a mixture of blood loss and pain.

As the couple made their way unsteadily down the aisle between the desks, Alecto vanished Finnigan's blood from the table, but something pink and soft remained: the Irish boy's finger. Millicent, who had been sitting in the front row, abruptly got to her feet with her hand clasped over her mouth like she was about to vomit and rushed from the room, pushing past Brown and Finnigan on her way out.

Alecto pointed her wand to the mound of pink tissue. "Incendio!"

It was reduced to ash in seconds.

As Brown and Finnigan stumbled past his desk, Theo could see the girls cheeks are damp with tears. She was clasping the injured boy's hand in hers and it was hard to see where his hand stopped and her hand started because they were both appeared to be one mass of blood. Theo heard Finnigan mumble something as they exited the classroom, causing Theo to let out a huff of amused incredulity.

"Fuck…this is really going to mess with my Quidditch."

"What is that blood traitor bitch wearing?" Pansy's voice dripped with contempt.

The school were sitting in rows of chairs in the Great Hall, facing a temporary stage, a few days after Alecto and Finnigan's latest stand-off. It was the Christmas Choir Concert and Parvati had just come forward to perform a solo for the last song. Up to now, Theo had been watching her furtively, not wanting to arouse suspicion from his fellow Slytherins who were sitting beside him. But now that the whole school's attention was on her, he could stare unhindered.

The sight of her simultaneously made something in his chest hurt and his cock twitch. She was wearing an emerald green sari that had an intricate pattern embroidered around the edges in gold thread. The silk fabric draped beautifully over her body. Theo could understand, although didn't share, Pansy's indignation - the green of the sari was exactly the same shade as that of Slytherin house. And house colours were sacred at Hogwarts. It was a bold move, and Theo wondered if Parvati had been aware of what she was doing when choosing her outfit and if so, what point she was trying to make.

"You don't have the patent on green Pansy," Theo heard Blaise say casually.

"It's a nice dress -"

"It's a sari Marcus," Draco interrupted with disdain.

"I'd like to bend her over a desk and rip it off her, whatever the fuck it is," Flint leered.

Theo's muscles instantly tensed and he had to fight back the urge to punch Flint in the face.

"Don't be so crude Flint," Daphne hissed. As she shifted in her chair next to Theo, a waft of that scent drifted across to him again - the one that was so familiar yet the source of which kept alluding him. He started to contemplate whether he should just ask Daphne outright which girl she was rubbing up against so often, when Parvati started singing, rendering his thoughts scattered and lost.

The whole school, even his row of fidgety, petulant Slytherins, stilled at the sound.

"I'll feel the fear for you...I'll cry your tears for you...I'll do anything I can to make you comfortable...even if I fall down, when you're not around…don't worry about me...don't worry about me..."

As Parvati sang, her voice seemed to travel through the air, right into the centre of him and started to unwind something that had been tightly coiled for so long he hadn't even known it'd been there until now.

He kept his eyes locked on Parvati, not daring to move even them, lest it trigger something in him to become unbalanced, something that he was desperately clutching onto. But with every word Parvati sang, his grip seemed to weaken.

"I'll climb the hills you face…I'll do this in your place…I'd do anything to go through it instead of you...'Cause if I fall...you'll fall...and if I rise...we rise together..."

Parvati's eyes met Theo's across the hall as she sang, pausing for a moment too long before gliding on again. But Theo didn't have the capacity to think about what that might have meant because, suddenly, he felt like a child again - overwhelmed, out of control, alarmed - as a feeling rose up in him he hadn't felt for years. It was like something was squashing his insides, causing the muscles in his face to contract, and with dismay, he recognised the threatening, hot stinging sensation behind his eyes...no, no, no, no, no…

Theo stood up abruptly, pushing his way down the row of seats, inelegantly tripping over feet, and hurried from the hall before anyone could see the traitorous tears fall from his eyes.

A/n: The song Parvati sings at the end of this chapter is 'Don't Worry About Me' by Frances. It's really rather lovely and well worth a google/youtube-ing. There's a version on youtube by the Camden Voices Choir which is how I imagine the Hogwarts choir to sing it (it inspired the whole last section of this chapter!).

Reviews/comments/thoughts are, as ever, cherished and treasured.