Theodore Nott was a boy who was born into extreme privilege and prestige. The wealth of his family – like many other old Wizarding families – was comparable to royalty; they owned a grand home, situated on an expansive estate; they employed a large number of staff, not including their house-elves, all of whom looked after every aspect of the household, ensuring the Master and Mistress need not think nor worry about anything. When Theodore was born, his parents were already along in years, and his mother – Catherine – unfortunately passed shortly after his birth, having never fully recovered from the physical demands of childbearing. Theodore was, therefore, raised by nannies – and he had many, as it was not the nature of the world for an aristocratic man as affluent and distinguished as Theodore's father to remain unaccompanied. As Theodore got older, his governesses changed as frequently as his nannies had when he was an infant. The head of their household, and head butler – a man named Burgess, who had served the Nott Family for longer than Theodore had been alive – was the one who looked after the staff; he hired them, fired them, and altered their memories as necessary before seeing them off the estate. But even Burgess couldn't stop the rumors. So he went outside the Wizarding working-class community and started to hire Muggles. They held small roles, carrying out the labour of menial tasks; they were also housed separately from the rest of the staff, and kept far away from Theodore. But from a very young age, Theodore had been curiously observant, and noticed, without being informed, many things. He often tiptoed his way around the manor to watch these curious people who worked with their hands rather than wands, who sometimes took three times longer to complete their duties as it would a witch or wizard. Through his observing the work habits and social dynamics of the house-staff, was Theodore's impression of Muggles formed: they were simply inferior.

…Except perhaps, in one crude way: Theodore's father, didn't seem to mind whether a woman could use magic or not, so long as she was pretty, and he could have what he wanted from her. (And he always got what he wanted.) Admittedly, some of the most breathtaking women Theodore had ever seen in his short life, were Muggles. But this did nothing to alleviate his growing condescension for them; even the most beautiful were but tools and playthings in the light of the power of wealth and magic.

As the Young Master, Theodore had free reign of the household, including its bountiful resources. He was taken to Diagon Alley on trips, where he bought whatever books and papers and toys he wanted. Once, when he was four, he bought an entire set of third-year Hogwarts texts, because someone had been careless enough to lose their supplies list. When his governess refused to teach him from these books, he had her fired, then ordered for one who would. For the years following, Theodore learned not from a set curriculum, but whatever he was interested in; whatever he wanted to know. If his teacher was not capable of satiating his curiosity, he would find another. Burgess, who was proud of Theodore's intelligence like a father, was more than pleased to oblige the young master's demands in this respect. Theodore's actual father was less impressed – if he realized at all, that his only son and heir was years ahead of his soon to be contemporaries in the matter of academics. But it seemed, the only time Theodore caught his father's attention, was the one time he had not so accidentally let slip the details of one of his father's affairs. On his list of accomplishments at that time, Theodore had managed to brew a cure for hiccups (a basic potion, though still advanced for a nine year-old), and charm his pet rabbit into performing a rather well choreographed jig, but it was this bit of gossip that garnered the attention – and subsequent wrath – of his father. Such petty rage was lost on Theodore, though his father punished him severely for his lack of discretion. After that incident, Theodore assessed that he was no longer interested in family. In fact, he determined to only use his father's wealth until he could amass his own.

One afternoon, in the summer of Theodore's tenth year, he was dozing off with his back against the trunk of a large tree and his book laid gently on his chest, when a shadow passed overhead, and a girl literally fell out of the sky, crashing into him. She had straw blonde hair, with streaks of light brown that fell just past her thin shoulders, and gray eyes that Theodore immediately noticed, were sad.

"Who are you and where did you come from?" Theodore shouted once he had pushed the girl off and scrambled to his feet. The girl didn't answer at first, taking her time to right herself and test her limbs to make sure nothing was broken. Finally, she met his gaze and simply pointed upward, toward the sky. For a logical boy like Theodore, her reply was unacceptably lacking. "Be specific," he ordered.

"Well, I'm not sure of the specifics," she responded with a bit of a huff, as if Theodore was the exasperating one. "But I suppose, if you must know, I was walking along the river when I saw a unicorn and thought to myself, if any creature could take me back in time, a unicorn could. So, I climbed onto its back and asked it to take me…" she trailed off a moment, her eyes growing distant. They refocused on Theodore and the girl frowned. "I don't think this is what it had in mind, but I sort of fell off its back as it flew –"

"Wait," Theodore interrupted, also frowning. "Unicorns don't fly – or travel through time," he corrected her.

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Positive," he answered.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Theodore reflexively checked his watch and reported the time. "Hmm," she mused to herself, looking up at the sky once more. "So it's taken me nearly an hour into the future rather than back into the past like I had wanted."

"Have you considered," began Theodore, speaking slowly in an attempt to control his rising irritation. "That you were flying for an hour on that thing?"

"Well, I don't know," the girl said with a chirpiness in her voice. "I'm not entirely clear on how time travel works."

With a look of utter disbelief, Theodore stared at the girl and insisted, "You did not travel through time."

With a shrug and a tilt of her head, she replied, "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm quite confident," said Theodore. "So, who are you?"

"Now, I know it's against the rules of time travel to share too much information."

"You're mad, you know that?" Theodore mocked her, rolling his eyes. As he shook his head, he caught her gaze, and the raw sorrow in its depths unwittingly cut through him. "Why did you want to go back in time?" he couldn't help but ask. She didn't answer – or rather, she wouldn't. It made Theodore feel embarrassed to have asked in the first place. "You're not hurt, are you?" he inquired next.

"No, I don't think so," she said quietly, looking herself over once more. But when she took a step forward, she nearly fell. "Or maybe…" she reconsidered sheepishly, leaning on Theodore for support. Rather than leaving the girl behind to get help, Theodore instead half-carried her back to the house. It was painstakingly slow as she stumbled along, getting distracted every other step by something or other. Theodore was just about to change his mind and leave her after all, when she noticed the wand sticking out of his pocket. "Oh!" she said, twisting about awkwardly and reaching for it.

"Don't touch! It's not yours," Theodore reprimanded, letting go immediately and stepping away.

"You can do magic," she said rather than asked. "Why do you have a wand? You're not much older than me, and we're not supposed have wands until we're eleven."

Theodore glared at the girl. "It was my mother's."

"Oh," she repeated, the word sounding very different from when she'd said it only a moment ago. She sat down heavily on the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest. Theodore joined her, his mother's old wand, now in his hands. It was the only thing he really had of hers, and for most of his life, it was purely functional; Theodore was using it only until he could get his own. But, for some reason, sitting next to this strange girl who was wildly more emotional than he could ever be, the wand felt sad. "May I?" the girl asked, holding out her hand. Without hesitation, Theodore placed the wand in her small hand. She held it delicately, almost reverently. "My Mum's wand… was lost," she said so quietly, Theodore nearly didn't hear. Like everything else about her, the girl's words were vague and undescriptive, but Theodore suddenly understood her better than he had before. She looked at her feet: her trainers were scuffed and dirty, the laces of both shoes undone. She flipped the wand in her hand and pointed to her right shoe, muttering something Theodore couldn't make out. The laces magically tied themselves. He looked at her with surprise; he had never met another witch or wizard his age who could handle magic with such ease. She glanced at him, meeting his shocked expression with a smile. "It was a spell my mother taught me," she said, returning the wand. She then reached forward to tie the laces of her left shoe, by hand. "She said once, that it's important to be able to do things well with and without magic. And to never settle for what's already been done."

With a hollow sort of feeling, Theodore watched as tears fell from the girl's very sad eyes. He didn't know what to do, so he let her cry. They didn't say much to each other after that, returning to the house mostly in silence. Burgess mended her ankle, cleaned her up, and helped contact her father, who picked her up shortly after, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience. Theodore never did learn her name. But he never forgot her either.

Theodore grew even more independent after that, expanding the horizons of his mind beyond the walls of magic – which actually made it more difficult for him once he started at Hogwarts. Being sorted into the venerable House of Slytherin, he soon found that his fellows were rather narrow-minded people, subscribing to the antiquated values that came with their lineage as well as the House. He recognized many in both name and face, though he would not consider any of them his friends. For the better part of two years, Theodore spent his time studying (which was more like a revision of things he already knew), maintaining a high standing in his year; he also observed the other students, forming mental assessments of their talents, capabilities, and potential. If these were to be the people who built the future, they would also be his stepping stones to the top.

But during his third-year at Hogwarts, something happened: his father, whose philandering habits had lessened through the years, took on a full-time lover – or whatever the proper term was; they certainly weren't married, even if she was now the only woman in his life. Her name was Aldora Black, and she was the daughter of Lucretia Prewett née Black, the wife of Ignatius Prewett, though they had no children together. To her grave, Lucretia had taken the identity of Aldora's father, but she insisted that her daughter was certifiably pure-blood. Theodore first met Aldora over Christmas break, when she stayed with them over the holidays. She was likely close to thirty years his father's junior, but from what Theodore could tell, her affection for the man was genuine – not that Theodore treated her any differently than all the other women before her. She was still there when he finished his third-year and returned home for the summer. For whatever reason, she tried to be social with him, especially when his father was absent, asking him about school, about his classmates, and inquired about his interests and hobbies. He answered all her questions curtly, always taking the earliest opportunity to excuse himself.

That summer, Theodore was forced to attend the Quidditch World Cup with his father and Aldora, though he had little interest in the sport itself. The summer after, they took a vacation together – as a family, which was both ridiculous and painful for Theodore. He decided then, that once he turned seventeen and could use magic freely, he would live on his own – like how Sirius Black had, according to Draco. The two boys, having grown closer, even discussed the idea of sharing a space together, though Draco doubted his parents would actually let him leave home. But near the end of their fifth-year, both their fathers found themselves in Azkaban, leaving their families in a precarious situation. Two mornings after the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Theodore received a letter from his father; its message was succinct and without embellishment: Aldora was pregnant.

Theodore considered many things: moving out and living on his own (he was quite confident in his self-sufficiency even without the use of magic); staying with Draco at Hogwarts (although he doubted this would be allowed); returning home and forcing Aldora to leave (though this option seemed cruel, even to him). In the end, he decided going home would be the logical place to start; if nothing else, he wanted to speak with Burgess about the estate and family affairs now that he was technically the legal Head of the Family.

Aldora met him at King's Cross Station much to his irritation. On the trip home, she was silent which Theodore realized was much more uncomfortable than when she asked him questions; it was almost like she was holding her breath.

"How are you?" he asked her when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. She seemed surprised that he was initiating conversation.

"… Your Father told you, didn't he?" Theodore gave her a look that clearly said that wasn't a question that required a verbal answer. "I'm fine," she answered with a small sigh. She looked out the window at the passing houses. "We were hoping to tell you together, of course, but despite his being in prison, it's still better that you heard it from Ambrister and not me." After a pause, she turned toward Theodore again. "I'll understand if you ask me to leave the manor," she said, her tone both soft and proud. "This baby is not your concern."

"That baby is my sibling," Theodore replied tersely. "A member of the Nott Family. I can't guarantee that I'll grow to care for it, but it is, at the very least, my concern."

The first order of business became keeping the pregnancy a secret; Burgess put all the staff under a spell of confidentiality, and had the family lawyer draw up some papers about what the child would be entitled to. Aldora didn't ask for much or make any real demands; she was quite well-off herself, after all, being a daughter of Black. The second order of business came much sooner than Theodore was expecting: a visit from his father's companions – Death Eaters. Theodore had prepared himself to speak with them on equal grounds, but was surprised when Aldora protectively took the lead, though never overstepping on Theodore's rightful authority.

"Ambrister's absence leaves quite a void in the inner circle," one of the three Death Eaters said as the maids laid out tea and refreshments. "The Dark Lord, however, is confident that someone will step up and take over his responsibilities."

"There are many who would be willing to, I'm sure," Aldora agreed shortly. She regarded the gentlemen with an icy disposition that even Theodore was impressed with. "However, Theo is still under the Trace and a student of Hogwarts. It would be unwise to force his hand at this point in time."

"Time is of the essence, Ms Black," another Death Eater said, his voice husky and rough. "The Dark Lord will not be kept waiting."

Aldora laughed coldly. "The Dark Lord has waited long enough, I agree, however, is he also not patient enough to act only when the time is optimal?" The frigid smile disappeared from her lips as she got to her feet. "Tell your Dark Lord that Ambrister Nott may be in Azkaban, but he is far from useless." She looked back at Theodore and smiled kindly. "It is not my place to tell you what to do," she said to him before sweeping out of the room.

"She's right," Theodore found himself saying moments after Aldora was gone. He also stood, indicating that the conversation was coming to a close. "Recruiting under Dumbledore's nose would be foolhardy, though I will take the position under consideration."

"You… said that," Draco stammered, staring at Theodore with a shocked expression.

He couldn't help but notice the hint of disappointment mixed in as well, and smiled to himself. "They're just words, Draco."

"They're not just words, Theo," the other boy rebutted. "They're Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord isn't going to just let you off because you said you were going to think about it." Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair with a sigh. "Are you actually considering it?"

Theodore shrugged. "It's an option, isn't it. For all of us – even you. The Dark Lord won't lightly turn his back on a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"My Aunt would never let me get that far," Draco huffed. "Besides, I'm definitely not interested."

"Figures," Theodore laughed. "I guess it all depends on how things go," he said, folding his hands on the table. "What kind of world we'll end up with one way or the other. If we can survive, what more could we ask for?" His question was semi-rhetorical; it wasn't so much that he believed what he was asking, rather than understanding Draco through his answer.

"I'm not sure surviving is enough anymore, Theo," his friend replied.

Theodore smiled. "We're Slytherins, Draco. Give us a reason to fight, and we will."