A/N Thank you to my Guest for your great review. I always like hearing what you think. To, Sunset Whispers, I find myself waiting constantly looking for your reviews. Also to I Love Music, I find a chapter is not complete until you tell me what you thought.

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Thank you and welcome to my new follower wag11137, we all love Theo around here, hope you do also.

Warning: This chapter contains child abuse and torture.

Chapter 26: My Own Man

Five Days Before Theodore's Seventh Year

Theodore stared at the suit laid out on his bed, for half an hour. He knew he had to put it on, eventually. He was expected to be downstairs promptly at nine.

Theodore hadn't been out of his room since his return to Nott Manor, two days ago. Nott Sr. had sent Rowel out to get Theodore's school supplies. Theodore had been hoping he would be finishing school in the US, so he had not yet purchased his books and new robes for this year. Yesterday, an employee from Malkin's came and took Theodores measurements. Later in the day, new school robes, uniforms and what his father called, 'proper attire for a Pure-Blood', had arrived.

Theodore had spent the last two days, unpacking his trunk and repacking it with all the things he would need for school. He left things like his turn-table and the records under the 'reducio' spell, so they were easier to hide in the back of his closet. Father would destroy Muggle things if he found them. The only good thing, which had happened since his return, was his father had left him alone. But that would change, as soon as he put on that suit and went downstairs. Theodore had been informed last night when his dinner arrived, he was being presented this morning to the 'Lord', to take his mark.

Theodore picked up the pants, figured he might as well get it over with, and pulled them up over his boxers. He picked up the dress shirt, 'black', he thought to himself, 'of course it's black. What other color would be perfect for my funeral'. As he buttoned up the shirt, Theodore looked at the picture of Daphne on his nightstand. He needed her strength today, how he wished he could tell her he loved her, just one last time.

He had written her a letter the night he returned to the Manor and sent it, even though he knew she most likely wouldn't get it. It had been waiting for him on the window sill, when he woke up this morning. Theodore had taken the letter and added it to the charmed box with all the other letters he had written to her.

He picked up the tie Father had put with the suit. It was silk, solid black, soft, the best quality available. He hated it. Theodore tossed the tie on the bed and went into his closet. He found a tie Daphne had given him for his fifteenth birthday. It was a bright blue, with silver strips. The tie was a joke, since the sorting hat had wanted to put him in Ravenclaw ,until Theodore had convinced it otherwise. The dragon tie tack on the tie, was the real gift. It was a Short Snout, solid gold, with sapphire eyes. It's body twisted around the tie, and looked like was perched on the front. Theodore smiled, remembering how he played with the dragon all time when he first got it. If you pushed on his belly, he blew out a small puff of fire. He wasn't sure if it still worked or not; most likely he had used the charm up. As he rummaged through his box of tie tacks and cufflinks, looking for the matching sapphire cufflinks, he wondered if Father would let the tie go, or give him a black and blue eye to match it.

There was a loud knock on his bedroom door, as Theodore clipped the cufflinks into place. Rowel didn't wait for him to answer before he slammed the door open. James Rowel had been assigned to Theodore's father. Nott Sr. was his mentor in a way, so Rowel lived in the Manor now. Theodore hated that too.

"You ready little Nott? Your father wants you downstairs." Rowel stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

Theodore never understood why calling him 'little Nott', was suppose to be funny. He was at least five inches taller than Rowel, making the joke seem ignorant.

Theodore turned to look at him, and picked up the suitcoat and his wand. "As I will ever be."

Theodore made Rowel wait for him, while he went to his nightstand, picked up the picture of Daphne and a note he had written to Draco, and put them in the inside pocket of the suitcoat. He put the coat on as he walked out the door. Theodore hoped he would find a way to give Draco the letter today. It told Draco how much he missed their friendship, and how he wished they hadn't ruined it. He apologized again, for his part in doing just that. He asked Draco to please, find a way to get the box of letters for Daphne to her, if it was ever possible, should he not survive. Instructions on where he had hidden them in his room, were also in the letter. He fastened his wand to his wand holster, then buttoned up the coat, making sure his tie was neatly in place, as he walked smartly into his father's study.

"I am ready, Sir." Theodore stood ridged, trying not to look at his father.

Even at almost eighteen years old, and only an inch shorter than his father, the man still scared the bloody hell out of him.

Nott Sr. stood behind his desk wearing his Death Eater robes, a similar set draped over the back of his deskchair. Theodore assumed they were for him, once they returned home. He allowed himself a small smile, and hoped his father would be disappointed upon his return home. He wouldn't give his son those robes, but might instead, compose a letter to his wife's mother to let her know, her grandson was dead. Theodore figured, today would only end in his being physically forced to take the mark, or in his death. He was scared of both outcomes, but hoped he was strong enough to fight for the latter. His only regret would be, not seeing Daphne one last time.

Nott Sr. turned to look at his son, "Where is the tie I bought for you?"

Theodore swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I wanted some color, Sir. I thought the blue looked sharp."

Nott Sr.'s eye twitched, something that had started happening as a result from his time in Azkaban. "Very well, I suppose you still look presentable."

Nott Sr. seemed to walk slower lately. He looked tired and worn-out. That moment, was the first time Theodore thought his father may be ill, but he put it in the back of his mind.

His father walked around the desk, "Come with me."

Theodore followed his father out of his study, down the hall, and into the main courtyard of the Manor, where Rowel waited for them. The two Death Eaters exchanged a look, Rowel put his mask on and disappeared. Nott Sr. grabbed Theodore by the back of his neck and apparated them directly to the gates in front of Malfoy Manor. Rowel had already accessed the gates, that had swung slightly open, just enough for the three of them to pass through, then closed quickly behind them.

As they walked up the gravel path toward the house, Theodore thought the place looked darker, somehow. The house was made of grey stones, but everytime Theodore had been here in his childhood, the place had seemed bright, open and happy. Now it seemed dark, closed in and sad. 'Strange', Theodore thought to himself, how the house actually seemed sad. Not a sad place to visit, but that the house itself looked sad, as if a house could convey its own emotions.

He notice out of the corner of his eye, the platinum blond hair of his former best mate in a second floor window. Theodore looked at Draco who stood there and looked out at them as they approached the house, with his left hand in his pocket and his right hand pressed against the glass. Theodore was certain they had locked eyes, and tried to give Draco a soft smile, but the stony expression on Draco's face didn't change, if anything, his stare became more intense. Theodore thought Draco looked even paler than he did at school, and even thinner, with dark circles still under his eyes. Suddenly, Draco looked behind him, then turned back to the window and looked at Theodore again, mouthed a word, then was gone. Theodore thought for a moment Draco had said 'don't', but what did that mean? Don't get the mark? Don't resist? Don't come in? What had Draco tried to tell him? Unfortunately, he wouldn't get the chance to ask.

Once inside the house, Theodore followed his father down the hall and into the drawing room. Theodore noticed a fire roared in the fireplace even though it was warm outside, since it was still August. Voldemort was engulfed in conversation with Greg Goyle's father. He heard the soft sobs, which came from his left and turned to see Greg had knelt on the floor, his left arm held close to his body. Theodore took small sideways steps toward his friend, and knelt beside him, and placed one hand on his back.

Greg look up at him with a sorrowful expression, and whispered. "I had no choice, Theo. He threatened to kill Millie, if I didn't join."

Theo nodded his understanding, then stood quickly and went to stand with his father. So that was the plan. To make threats to get them to comply. Thoughts of what they would threaten him with filled his mind. Would he threaten to kill Daphne? Perhaps the distance between them, would actually protect her. He hated that her father had taken her so far away, and cut off communication, but it continued to prove useful. He paid no mind to the fact Voldemort had walked up to his father, as his thoughts went from what he might be threatened with, to what in the world Draco had been threatened with last year.

Nott Sr. grabbed Theodore by the back of the neck and pushed him toward the Dark Lord, "He is all yours my lord."

Theodore looked back at his father, for the first time since he was a boy of four, he wished he could run behind his father and hide. Voldemort walked around Theodore, as he evaluated his new recruit.

He walked back in front of him and held out his hand. "Your wand please, young Mr. Nott."

Theodore looked back at his father, as if to question whether or not he should. His father simply nodded to his son. Theodore pulled his wand out, and handed it to Voldemort.

Voldemort examined it and a almost, blissful smile appeared on his face. "You are a powerful young wizard, aren't you? Good, good." He handed Theodore's wand to his father. "I need more, powerful young men in our ranks if we are to defeat Potter. Let us see what motivates you, shall we."

Voldemort raised his wand toward Theodore's head and suddenly Theodore was on his knees, as pain stung behind his eyes. He saw flashes of moments of his life pass before him; his mother's death; the first time his father hit him; the day he first met Daphne at age six; the afternoon he learned to fly with Draco at age eight. Theodore saw his sorting, and the smile on Draco's face when his best mate was sorted into Slytherin. He saw his first passionate kiss with Daphne, and them dance slowly at the Yule Ball. He watched as he gave her his mother's ring. Theodore's heart pounded ,as he tried to think of anything but Daphne, but all he could seem to think of was her. He saw them kiss in the common room; he saw himself push her up against a tree and kiss her neck; Theodore saw her tell him how much she loved him; he saw them lay on a blanket in a unused room, down in the dungeons at Hogwarts. They laid there and kiss passionately, their bodies tangled with each other. He told her he loved her, as his hands moved from her waist to just under her breasts. He remembered the desire to feel them for the first time, through her school uniform.

Suddenly the thoughts went from happy to sad, as he saw her blow him a kiss goodbye on the platform. He saw himself cry, while he looked at her picture in his room at Tim and Clair's house. He saw himself put the earrings, he got her last Valentine's day, in the envelope with the letter and seal it. He watched himself fall down the stairs at school, after Draco pushed him. Theodore saw Draco in the hospital after his duel with Potter, and heard Draco tell him he hated him again. He watched Draco and himself fight in the dorms, and then Draco, tell him to go to hell.

Suddenly the images were gone, and Voldemort stood and laughed at him. "So young Nott, you are also in love. Miss Greengrass, is a fine choice. You and she will have powerful Pure-Blood children one day. Unfortunately, her father has been able to hide from me so far, so she is not within my reach to use as motivation."

Tears hit Theodore's cheeks from the intense memories, and the relief that Daphne was safe. Voldemort started to pace back and forth, like he was deep in thought.

He turned back to Theodore, "I am not willing to damage young Malfoy to persuade you, yet. Hopefully, you will make the right choice without need of persuasion." Voldemort got an evil look on his face, "Tell me Theodore, are you ready to take your place by your father's side, or do you need motivation?"

Theodore stood up slowly, and wiped the wetness the few tears had left on his face away, and took a deep breath. "I choose to not join."

Voldemort sneered at him, lifted his wand and hit Theodore with the worst curse he had ever felt. His skin felt as though it would melt off him, his eyes were on fire ,and his ears rang. Theodore fell to the ground and started to convulse from the pain. He wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. Voldemort laughed at the young wizard he tortured, delighted he had a challenge. As he continued his use of the curse, he turned to one of the Death Eaters in the room, and instructed him to go and find Draco.

Lucius stood up from the corner chair he had been seated in, "My Lord, I am sure you will find a way without need of Draco."

Voldemort only laughed at Malfoy, then lifted the curse off Theodore. It took several moments for Theodore to catch his breath, and realize he was no longer in any pain. He slowly got to his feet and clumsily straighten his tie ,when he noticed the look of disgust he got from his father.

"Have you changed your mind, young Nott?" Voldemort walked dramatically around the room, as he always did.

Theodore took a deep breath, his throat felt as though he had the worst sore throat ever, and his voice was weak when he finally spoke, "I wonder, how just is your cause, if threats and torture are needed to persuade one to join you?"

Theodore heard his father hiss his disapproval to his son's response, just before his tie got tight around his neck. Theodore reached up and tried to pull on it, but it continued to get tighter. His feet were lifted off the ground, and he dangled in the air. His vision got blurry from the lack of air, as the tie continued to get even tighter around his neck. The last thing Theodore clearly saw, before all he could see was red, was Draco walk into the room and the look of terror, as he saw his once best friend, being choked to death.

Nott Sr. watched at first with despise for his son, but as he watched Theodore's eyes started to turn red, and his lips turn blue, he started to feel something he could only call fear. Fear that his son might actually die today, in front of him, as he stood by and did nothing to stop it. He had beaten Theodore, unforgivingly tortured him, but never had Nott wanted his son dead. Sometimes, when he looked back on things, there were times when after a punishment had been given, he did feel he had gone a little too far, and was relieved when Theodore proved strong and was fine afterward. But now, now if he stood there and did nothing, he son wouldn't survive. He would have no heir, nobody to continue his legacy. He may not 'love' his son, the way some Muggles and Half-Bloods loved their children, but he didn't 'hate' Theodore, either.

As Theodore started to lose the battle, Draco ran across the room to his father, he thought he would plead with him to do something. His action distracted Voldemort, and Theodore fell to the ground and he started to gasp for air. Lucius stood up quickly, when he noticed the anger cross Voldemort's face. He needed to act fast, to keep Draco from punishment. Lucius slapped Draco as hard as he could. The slap left a welt, and red mark on Draco's face, and sent him hard into the wall behind them. Voldemort seemed pacified by this action and turned back to Theodore.

He pointed his wand back at the Nott heir, who laid on the floor and continued to gasp for air. Before he cursed him again, Nott Sr. spoke. "My Lord, please. He is my only child, allow me a chance to persuade him. I am sure, now that we are reunited, I will find a way to get through to him."

Voldemort looked over at Nott like he could see through him, into the future. "Fine, you may see what you can do with him. But this is the second time he has openly disobeyed me. I will not tolerate it a third."

Voldemort left the room along with all his followers save, Nott Sr., Malfoy and Draco. Draco stood and held his welted face. He looked at Theodore, with a sickening in his stomach he had felt, far too many times over the course of the last twelve months. Draco wouldn't admit it to anyone, (doing so would mean he admitted he had been wrong, and a Malfoy was never wrong), but he missed his best friend. Nott stood over his son, who's eyes were bloodshot. Theodore could still barely see, as his father reached down and grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"Lucius, I will need use of the smallest room in your cellar." Nott Sr. gave Malfoy a sinister look.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Certainly, Theo. Why?"

"To persuade Theodore. I know my son's fears. Exploiting one of them, may be my best shot." Nott Sr. dragged his son along toward the hallway, that lead to the cellar.

The Malfoy wine cellar, had been converted into a prison of sorts. It had a staircase, that lead into a large room, where all the wines and spirts were once kept. Four smaller rooms were attached, where the more expensive bottles had been kept.

When they got to the top of the stairs, Nott pushed his son down them. Theodore cried out in pain, as his right shoulder was dislocated from the fall. Lucius told Draco to go to his room and wait there for him.

Nott Sr. went down into the cellar and stood over his son. He kicked Theodore three times, before he told him to get up. Theodore was still dazed and confused from the curse and loss of air, as he tried to figure out how to stand up, with an arm that didn't function. Nott Sr. reached down, pulled Theodore to his feet and pushed him in the direction of the smallest room toward the back of the cellar. The closer to the room they got, the more Theodore understood what was about to happen. He started to struggle, but his father was stronger at the moment, and finally pushed him into the tiny room. Nott waved his hand at the door, it slammed shut and locked.

Theodore had hit the back wall. When he saw the door shut ,he ran over and grabbed the bar with his left hand, "Sir, please, don't leave me in here."

"You need to make a choice Theodore. Join or I may not be able to save you again." Nott Sr. turned and started walking away.

"Father, please!" Theodore's heart pounded, as each light went out as Nott Sr. walked past it.

Nott Sr. stopped for a moment, turned and looked at his son, "You should have thought through your actions a little better, Theodore. Now you will pay for them." He turned and started up the stairs.

As he walked out, he told Theodore he would have an elf stand by. All Theodore had to do was holler out, that he was ready to take his mark, and it would be all over. The door, which lead to the cellar, closed behind Nott Sr. and the room was pitch-black. Theodore was left in complete darkness. He tried to unlock the door with wandless magic, but nothing happened. He knew there were most likely wards in place, to prevent the use of wandless magic by the prisoners. Resigned to that fact, he fell to his knees, and shivered from the cold and fear that tried to consumed him. His right hand started to shake uncontrollably. Each little shake, sent searing pain up his dislocated arm.

He could repair his arm easily, but his father had his wand. Theodore turned and slid down the bars, until he was in a seated position, and tried to fix his arm with wordless magic. It didn't work, just as he figured it wouldn't. His hand continued to shake; normally it would have stopped by now. Theodore felt like an idiot, as a few tears from the fear of the dark rolled down his cheeks. An idiot for being his age and still afraid of the dark.

He wiped at the tears with his left hand, and tried to force himself to get it together. No matter how hard he tried, he continued to shake from the fear of the pitch-black around him. His tie started to get tight and Theodore reached up to pull it off quickly, before it could start its assault again. He sat there in the dark and decided right then, he wouldn't wear suits again, unless he absolutely had to; like at school and for his and Daphne's wedding. Daphne; the thought of her brought a calmness over him, and his body no longer shook so violently.

Theodore remembered Tim had sent him a Muggle healing book once. There had been something about how to put his arm back in its socket, he just needed to remember what it was. As he sat there and took deep breaths, he held the tie in his hand and tried to remember what he had read in the book. The soft fabric calmed him a little, as it slipped through his fingers. He eventually hit something solid and opened his eyes quickly, as he remembered the dragon tie tack. Could it still work? Maybe, just maybe.

Theodore removed the dragon in the dark, held it out in front of him, and pushed its belly. A small breath of fire came out. It lit the small room with bright light for just a second, but it was enough to give him hope. A small smile crossed his lips, he held the dragon closely to the tie. 'Sorry about the tie, Baby,' He pushed the belly again and a slightly larger breath of fire came out and ignited the tie. As the light from the small fire lit the room, Theodore smiled to himself, 'I love you Daphne'. He pushed himself against the bars, so he could stand up, and laid the tie on the concrete floor ,so he could look around the room. In the corner he saw a small wooden crate. Theodore would be able to give himself some light that way, but only for so long. It would have to do. He looked down at the tie, it burned slowly enough, but emitted a thick black smoke and had a bad smell, so he would have to get something else fast. He walked over to the crate, smashed it with his foot, and took a small piece of the wood over to the tie and laid it across the flame. It lit quickly, which made Theodore frown. It was good it would light easily, but bad because it would burn fast. Although, it was better than the smoke which came from the silk, he stomped the tie out.

With the tiny room lit, he was able to calm himself enough, to remember how to reset his shoulder. Theodore walked up to the bars, forced his arm between two of them, and then used his bodyweight to jar his arm back in place. It worked, but he thought he would pass out from the pain. Once the pain subsided, Theodore settled down on the floor beside his fire and kicked off his shoes. He looked at the shinny black leather which was suppose to be the best gold could buy. He had always hated this style of dress shoes his father liked so much. After he set them aside, he removed his suitcoat and laid it across his lap. Theodore looked at the fire and knew it would go out soon if he didn't add more wood. He could let it, but he didn't know how many more puffs the little dragon (he had placed back in his pocket) had left, or how long he would be down there. He looked over at the pile of wood, selected a slightly larger piece and placed it on his fire. Not yet ready to face the dark again.

He sat there and watched the fire until it was almost gone. How long he didn't know, how was he to tell time? Slowly ,Theodore drifted off to a restless sleep. He was awoken by a scream. When he opened his eyes, fear filled him quickly from the pitch-black dark. It took him a few minutes to fight off the panic that consumed him, and remember where he was, and for the moment anyway, he was fine.

Another scream jolted him to his feet. Was that? No, it couldn't be. Again, the scream this time was louder. It didn't sound like a woman, in one of those movies of Tim's, or a child. It almost sounded like...but no, why would he need to scream? Theodore laid his head on the bar and let the cold from the metal sooth his headache, he had woken up with. There it was again. This time Theodore was certain, it was Draco.

Was he being tortured because Theodore hadn't taken the mark, or for some other reason? Unless someone came down, he would never know. Theodore allowed himself to slide back down the bars, he laid down on the concrete floor, and tried to block the scream out of his mind. There was nothing he could do for Draco, or whoever was upstairs in the drawing room. He closed his eyes tightly and wished it would just stop. Theodore covered his ears with his hands and before he knew it, he was again asleep.

He dreamt his father had scolded him for some such thing, but as his father raised his hand to hit him, the familiar hit didn't happen. Suddenly in his dream, his assailant was Voldemort. Those eyes burned into him, the pitch of the voice made him shiver. Voldemort raised his wand at Theodore and laughed as Theodore's body was shaken back and forth. Voldemort laughed his name, 'Theodore! Ha, Theodore'. He continued to be shaken, harder and harder. Suddenly Theodore opened his eyes and screamed as he felt Voldemort's real hands on his shoulders.

"Nott, you idiot. It's only me, calm down." Draco's familiar drawl ,broke through the terror Theodore felt.

He looked around slowly when he realized he could see, because of the small amount of light coming from Draco's wand.

Draco opened a small door in the bottom of the bars and pushed a bucket in. "Here, take this. You have been in there for an entire day already."

"Has it been that long?" Theodore shook his head and tried to clear the dream. "What is that for?" He looked at the bucket.

"Don't be daft, what do you think it's for?" Draco closed the door, then held out a glass of water through the bars. "This was all I was able to sneak down here with me.", but Theodore didn't take it. "Go on, don't be a fool, you must be thirsty."

Theodore reached out and took it with both hands. His right hand still shook, although not as badly. "Thank you."

Draco stood to walk away, "Don't mention it."

"Draco." Theodore said his name to get him to stop, as he set the glass down, and retrieved the letter from his coat.

"What?" Draco slowly turned around.

Theodore held out the letter. "Please, take this and read it when you get a chance."

Draco looked at the letter curiously, "Why should I?"

"You used to be my best mate, Draco" He grimaced slightly, "Besides, you and I both know, I am most likely not leaving here alive." Theodore shivered at the thought. "Please, there is a small box hidden in my room, back at Nott Manor ,for Daphne. The letter tells you where to find it, along with other things, I have been meaning to tell you."

Draco slowly took the letter, "What do you want me to do with a box for Daphne?"

"Just give it to her, if you ever have the chance." Theodore looked at the ground.

Draco straightened up, "You could give it to her yourself, if you stop this ridiculousness."

"Yeah, I suppose." Theodore looked Draco in the eye, "But that would only save me for a little while."

Draco nodded and started to walk away, but turned back around. He looked at Theodore in the tiny light from his wand. A million things he wanted to say to him, should say to him, ran through his mind: 'I miss you; I am sorry; I didn't do it; You were right.' But none of those words would form, instead he told him. "For what it's worth Theo, I think what you did, standing up to him, was brave. Stupid and reckless, but brave." Draco left it at that, went up the stairs and closed the door.

Theodore was back in the dark. He didn't want to think about the bucket, but once Draco was gone, the need to use it become very obvious to him. He found the bucket, stood up and did his best to make sure he didn't miss it in the dark. He didn't know how many more times the little dragon would light, and he didn't want to waste it. Once he was finished, he remembered the glass of water. 'Crap', he thought, 'my luck I will knock it over trying to find it.' Theodore knelt down very slowly, and started to feel around ,until he finally came across the glass. Thankful he hadn't managed to knock it over, he took a sip. It would be very easy to drink it all in one quick gulp, but he didn't know how difficult it had been for Draco to get it down to him, or when he would get the chance again. Best to try and make it last.

He held onto the glass, and scooted back up against the bars, pulled his knees up and took another sip. He decided to try and think about Daphne, to keep his mind off the fear, that nipped at him like the cold in winter.

He closed his eyes and tried to think about their first kiss, back while they sat on the bench at Goyle Estates when they were thirteen. It had been so innocent, and seemed so long ago. He remembered the split in his lip that must have made his lips taste metallic, but Daphne had kissed him anyway.

Theodore tried to just focus on Daphne; her lips, the blue of her eyes like the ocean. He tired to remember each and every one of her freckles that lightly dusted across her nose and eye lids. He wished he had memorized each one of them, so he could sit here now and recount them. He thought about how good her hair always smelled when she laid her head on his chest; like strawberries. He figured it had to be her shampoo, but to him that smell was Daphne. He wanted so badly to smell it one more time, just one more time.

He thought about the way her skin smelled like sun lotion, in the summer, the cocoa butter smell that always drew him in and made him want to get as close to her as he could. In the winter, her skin smelled of vanilla from the lotion she liked to use, because she said the winter air made her skin dry. If he cleared his mind, he could almost smell it.

As he sat there in the dark alone with his thoughts, Theodore started to think of all the things he would do with Daphne if he could see her again. He would take her to the Muggle amusement park she wanted to see. He would take her to New York, so she could see the department store she always talked about and hoped one day to have her designs in, the name of he couldn't quite remember. He would take her to the Caribbean, so they could see if the ocean there really was bluer than anyother place in the world like she read in that travel book she told him about.

Of all the places he would take her if he ever got the chance to see her again, he was almost ashamed of himself to admit, the first place he would take her would be to bed. Theodore had always been proper with her and respectful. He had no reason to think they didn't have the rest of their lives with each other. Alone there in the dark, to keep his mind off every-thing else, he allowed himself to wonder and to imagine what Daphne would look like naked underneath him.

He was brought out of his daydream when the door to the stairs opened again, and his father came down. Theodore hid the glass of water under his suitcoat, then stood and pushed himself against the back of the tiny room, as far away from his father as he could get.

Nott Sr. stopped a few feet from the door. "Are you ready to come out of there?"

"If you mean, am I ready to take the mark. No Sir, I am not." Theodore hadn't noticed his right hand had stopped its relentless shake until it started again.

Nott Sr. stood and regarded his son for a moment. He wanted to admire his conviction, but it only served to make him more angry. He raised his wand at Theodore and hit him with a hex that bound his legs together. Theodore fell over, unable to stand. He knew exactly what his father had done to him. He knew the hex would only last a few hours, but that didn't stop him as he fought against it. The struggle to get his legs free was almost like instinct; he couldn't help it. Nott Sr. watched Theodore struggle for a few minutes then turned to leave.

Theodore's heart raced and he started to panic from the dark, and the fact his was unable to move. "Dad! Don't do this."

It had been so long since Theodore had called his father, Dad. Had he been ten? No nine, the last time he had called him that. It made Sr. stop at the bottom of the staircase, and turn back around. "If you want out, you only have to decide to take you proper place beside me; to apologize to our Lord and take your mark. How long you are in there son, is up to you." He turned and went up the stairs.

Theodore reached out and gripped the bars with his left hand. His right hand shook violently, and he continued to struggle against the hex.

The door to the cellar closed and Theodore was in the dark again. Unable to get to his coat and get the little dragon out of his pocket, or even get to the water, the next few hours were the worst for him. He tried to relax, but couldn't. He tried to think about Daphne, but even thoughts of her golden hair as it spilled down over her bare shoulders and breasts, couldn't block out the fear that consumed him. Every little noise he heard made his heart quicken. After some time, Theodore felt the room close in on him even though he couldn't see it.

By the time the hex wore off, Theodore was covered in sweat and his hair was soaked from his tears he couldn't stop as they ran down his face, past his ears. Once he realized he could move, he slowly crawled around the room until his fingers found his suitcoat. He slowly lifted it up, found the glass and drank all the water left. Still intensely dehydrated, Theodore thought he might try to sleep, but was unable to calm himself down. He pulled the little dragon out, and hoped it had just one more breath in it. Luckily, it did, so he lit a small fire with two pieces of the wood from the crate.

Theodore leaned up against the bars and let the little flames fill the room with their orange glow that allowed him to see. He eventually fell asleep and woke to a house elf, who told him it was time to go.

Theodore expected to find his father and Voldemort upstairs, but the only person who stood in the drawing room was, Lucius Malfoy. Lord Malfoy looked as bad as Theodore felt, with almost grey skin and dark circles under his eyes.

Lord Malfoy looked at Theodore with a expression of disgust. "It is time for you to go home. School starts in two days, and our Lord wants all of the Pure-Bloods there, to set an example for the others."

"I understand, Sir." Theodore tried to stand tall, but soon realized how weak he had become in the last three days.

"No young man, I don't think you do." Lucius crossed his arms over his chest. "I convinced your father to let you out, only because my son wouldn't stop asking me." He walked over to Theodore and grabbed him by the back of his arms, roughly and made sure to squeeze as tightly as he could. "Our Lord is not to be underestimated, Nott. You are not stronger than him, and will lose whatever game you think you're playing. The Lord will torture those you care for before he gets to you, if needs be." He grabbed Theodore's face, to make sure he looked at him. "Just because you don't care about your father, and Miss Greengrass is out of reach for the moment, doesn't mean there is no one else you care about. If my son is harmed because of you, the Lord will have to stand in line. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir." Theodore choked out.

Malfoy pushed Theodore toward the house elf, "Take him home." He turned and left the room.

Theodore spent the remainder of his time before school started ,locked in his room. He was given rice three times a day and nothing else. Once finally on the train, Theodore sat beside Vincent, his right hand shook uncontrollably. As the train pulled out of the station Theodore felt the walls of the train close in on him and he started to panic.

Since she had already heard the entire story from Greg, who had heard it from Blaise, who had heard it from Draco, Millie knew exactly what caused Theodore to panic. She offered him a sleeping potion, one she made for Draco, so it would work for the entire ride. Theodore gratefully drank it, and slipped off to a dreamless sleep.

A/N Well nothing is going poor Theodore's way is it. But when your at rock bottom, you have two choices, side ways, or up. Which do you think Theo will choose?