Hello hello!
I am finally free of exams! I will probably still have things that I will need to attend to, but I have a lot more free time to write now! May the muse be kind to me.
I am slightly nervous about this chapter, but I do think you shall all like it *hearts* oh I really hope you do!
Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Ice blue eyes carefully moved around the room, ensuring that their gaze did not linger on any one person for too long.
His eyes had been looking around this room for the past three days, and with the constant rounds of food and drink one may think that there was some type of festivity going on. One could not have been more wrong in thinking that particular string of thought if they tried.
He had been in this room many a time growing up, coming over for playdates and running through it as he was chased—or did the chasing—with his two best mates.
Occasionally Pansy, Greg and Vince had been here too, but it was almost always just Draco, Blaise and himself.
He didn't recognize that place.
This room—the entire manor, was now dull, dark, and filled with a sense of foreboding at what was yet to come. This was not the pleasant place where sunshine poured into the house during the summers, and where he had watched fluffy snow through the large windows coat the vast and beautiful grounds.
It was strange, especially since its rightful occupants no longer lived here. Seeing as how they had fled in the night, veiled in shadows and darkness, taking only their most precious belongings.
Theodore Nott had an inkling as to where they had gone, but he was not yet privy to the exact location. Hermione wanted to be extremely careful, and he couldn't blame her.
The bright witch and Draco were the ones who had collaborated and figured out where they were all going to live.
Theo had a plan, the details of which he had not discussed with any of the others, but hopefully it would work out in their favour.
Theo glanced to his left and saw his Father sitting back in a relaxed manner, a silver glass filled with spirits loosely clasped in his hand. Theo knew that the cavalier exterior was a front for the calculated scrutinization his Father was currently working through.
He'd gotten his dark curls and icy blue eyes from his Father—the main difference between them was that Theodus Nott was a smidge shorter than his son, stockier, and his jaw was slightly more square.
The Dark Lord had questioned Theo and the other Slytherins in his year, the ones that were meant to be Draco's friends. It seemed to go on for days, weeks, months, but it had only been for a few hours. He was trying to figure out where their loyalties lay.
It was a good thing they were all brilliant Occlumens since they had been trained in the practice from a young age from. Their one advantage was that Voldemort—whilst cautious and paranoid—vastly underestimated them.
The Dark Lord was sitting at the head of the table, and Theo could taste the hatred bubbling in his gut as he gazed at the man who had marked him.
Yesterday, after a particularly rowdy outburst of Fenrir's, Voldemort decided to give the dark mark to a select chosen few. They were worthy he had said.
Theo's forearm still ached, the muscles along his arm were rigid as he had squirmed and thrashed uncontrollably in pain the prior evening. Layers of skin were penetrated and stained with the permanent ink, and Theo winced as he felt the snake slithering around the design.
Theodus Nott had attempted to smoothly talk The Dark Lord from giving his son the mark. Normally all of the gracious and velvety things he was saying would have worked, but Voldemort was out for blood. Theodus stood with a clenched jaw and icy eyes, not once looking away from his son's form on the ground.
Greg and Vince had been all too eager to be marked.
Daphne had been here on the first day, as had Blaise.
Blaise requested that he remain neutral in this fight and Voldemort sounded almost bored when he granted the request. The Dark Lord was not particularly fond of Nuella Zabini for some reason, so not being associated with her son was no loss on his part as far as he was concerned.
Daphne pled with conviction that her sister must be bewitched in some way, and after some kneeling and several apologies, she was also given pardon and allowed to remain neutral—which included her Mother and Father.
Voldemort's mercy on the Greengrass's did not come without a price, he had announced loudly—in an almost gleeful tone—that Astoria Greengrass was fair game to anyone who captured her. That they could do as they pleased, after he personally made her pay for her treason that is.
Pansy was almost marked, almost. Her Father stepped forward with a dark sneer and coldly pronounced that his daughter was too immature and thus grossly unqualified to hold a position of such worth at this time. Voldemort had gazed upon Theo's friend with pity and contempt as he nodded his head in understanding; not paying attention to her for a moment longer.
Theo took a cautious sip of his Elf wine, and rolling his eyes once a Werewolf tackled Macnair. Bodies tumbling violently across the floor as they physically settled their differences—both highly intoxicated.
Voldemort appraised them with near indifference, and with a clap of his hands, the doors to the room swung open.
"My friends. I think we've had enough fun, you may all leave now," Voldemort said, raising his arms out to his sides.
Theo stayed close by his Father's side, keeping his expression impassive as Theodus went directly to Voldemort to bid his farewells.
"I shall see you soon, old friend," Voldemort said with what could almost be fondness.
Theodus bowed deeply and then straightened up, sending Voldemort a small smile before making his way towards the exit.
Theodus moved with measured purpose, and Theo followed suit. Right before they crossed the wards so that they could apparate back to Nott Manor, Theo caught Pansy's eye and gave her a secret smile. If he hadn't been looking for it, then he would have definitely missed her subtle nod in response.
"Let's get out of this place," Theodus mumbled, putting a firm but gentle hand on Theo's shoulder. Theo sighed heavily through his nostrils, the familiar sucking feeling starting in his navel, and then, with a crack, they were gone.
Silence filled the room as if it was a corporeal being, expanding until it occupied every nook and cranny.
"How could you let him brand me," Theo spat, his voice causing the silence to implode; he stood up suddenly, and the chair legs heavily scraped along the hardwood floor as he did.
"I had no choice," Theodus sighed heavily.
The two Nott men were in one of the Study's—it was a smaller one not too far from Theo's room. The room was lined with bookshelves, but mainly devoid of any books since most of them were in the grand library in the West Wing of the house. There was a small round table with a single chair underneath a flickering wall lantern, and a plush plum coloured armchair in the far corner of the room.
Theodus was sitting in the armchair, elbows propped up on his knees as he held his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry son. I...I tried to stop it, but it's best to remain in his good grace's since he is going to win this war. Any more protesting and he would have gotten suspicious," Theodus continued sombrely.
Theo scrunched up his nose in concentration for a moment. He was taking a massive risk right now, but his gut told him this was the right decision. This wasn't foolhardy and ill thought out, this was a calculated risk that would hopefully work out favourably for him.
"If he could be defeated…would you still follow him?"
There was a pregnant pause as the silence rushed back into the room, but it's presence was short-lived as Theodus Nott slowly raised his head and spoke softly, almost with trepidation. "What do you know?"
Theo swallowed. "I can't tell you. Not yet, and even then not all of it. I just have to ask, one more time, Father. Would you?"
Theodus's icy blue eyes flash brightly in the dimly lit room, dark curls partially covering his face, "no."
