A/N:

I may have gone a tiny-teeny bit off canon in this chapter...but only a little bit, and hopefully it's worth it! :o)

Ch. 44 Marked

"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

- Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

Parvati

Parvati had never seen the expression on Theo's face before: it was defeated and somber and defensive all at once. Her stomach twisted into nauseating knots at the sight of the Dark Mark on his arm, but she did not believe he'd taken it willingly – there was too much she knew about him by now.

"It's – it's just a mark," she protested weakly as Theo lowered his arm, knowing how absurd her statement sounded.

"We both know that's not true, Parvati." His voice was bitter and accusing. "Power-hungry, dark and selfish to the core, remember? Guess I've proved you right."

Parvati felt a desperate sadness as Theo echoed her own words back at her.

"You know I don't think that anymore."

"Then what do you think?" he asked bitterly.

"That you don't believe in pureblood supremacy," Parvati stated, her voice passionate with conviction. "Or that blood status matters at all. That you wish your father wasn't the person he was. That you can't say it or show it, but that you reject Voldemort and everything he stands for. That you're good."

Theo's eyes flickered at her last word – a chink in his defensive armour.

"Good?" he spat out derisively. "How so?"

"Oh, yes: logic, evidence. I know you love that," Parvati replied sardonically. "Here's a list for you: because of how you helped us – with the dittany and Snape's password. The information you gave us and how you warned us at the party –"

"I did that because of what I could get from it –"

"We both know that's Hippogriff-shit! And I'm not finished. Because my hand – it bled. It bled, and it hurt, when I was with you."

Theo frowned but some of the vitriol dissolved from his face.

"Isn't that a bad thing?" he grunted.

Parvati could hear the genuine curiosity in the question. She shook her head in response.

"Before we got the pheonix tears, it was aggravated whenever we did, or thought, anything against Voldemort. So, if it bled when I was with you it meant that what we were doing was something he would have despised. That what was happening between us – is happening – is something he can't stand. And there's one thing – one emotion – he despises most amongst all others," Theo opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Parvati continued. She felt that if she didn't say this now, she may never do. "And – and because of this.'

Parvati raised her arm, brought to her mind her happiest memories and from the tip of her wand burst a flash of white light which morphed into a four legged, scampering animal. A dog, in fact, with large floppy ears. A spaniel.

Theo looked at it incredulously, his eyes wide in wonder as they followed Parvati's Patronus around the room.

"What does it mean?" His voice was small and awed, like a Muggle child who's just discovered magic is real. "They're the same. What does it mean?"

"I – I don't really know," Parvati answered honestly. "Except I know it does mean something. A connection. Something good."

As her Patronus faded into the dark, Parvati moved slowly towards Theo. When she reached him, she lifted up his left arm and traced the outline of the skull with the finger of her right hand, on which her own 'blood traitor' mark was still clear and evident.

"How can you bear to touch it?" Theo whispered, his voice thick. His arm started shaking slightly. Parvati looked up and was startled to see his eyes glistening.

"Because it's just a mark, Theo." She repeated her earlier statement and it didn't sound so silly this time. Both of them looked down at the black skull and snake, and the pinky-white words of 'blood traitor' that marked their respective skins. "People can mark us – with scars and with words – but it's up to us what meaning we allow that to have. We can choose not to be defined by it."

Theo let out an odd sound, a restrained kind of bark, and tears started to fall freely from his eyes. It was like something that had been pent up in him for years had finally been released, Parvati could feel it. She instinctively reached out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him towards her in a tight hug, as his body started to convulse in wracking sobs.

They both slid awkwardly onto the cushions, and when Theo's sobs subsided to a more gentle cry, he started to talk.

He told Parvati about Dibbity dying and his father's Crucios. He told her about sneaking into his father's study and learning about the wolf blood that ran through his veins. It seemed like a dam had burst somewhere near his vocal chords when he told her that she was right, that he thought the idea of blood supremacy was flawed and stupid, but that he'd had to live a lie for so many years, in the Slytherin dungeons and at home. He told her about Luna, in the forest with the Thestrals and then in the Malfoy cellar…

Parvati sat and listened all the while, occasionally squeezing him more tightly to her, or saying a word of acknowledgement or comfort, until Theo's words, and tears, ran dry. She felt a bubbling of complex feelings rise up in her, but stopped herself from crying her own tears. She knew it was important for Theo to see that she could bear his pain.

After Theo had finished talking, they sat quietly for a minute or so, before Parvati reached up and softly pressed her lips to his. A gesture that said she accepted everything he had told her.

She loved that the walls he had been hiding behind had finally come down, that he was letting her see, and know, all of him. It felt as if there was nothing, now, that stopped them understanding each other, wholly and completely. Except…

"And this, Theo," she said, tenderly running her finger along the snake burnt into his arm. "How – why did you get this?"

And again, Parvati listened quietly as Theo began to tell her how he had come to bear the mark of one of the darkest wizards known to magical kind.

xXx

Theo

Voldemort's summons to Malfoy Manor came in the early hours of Easter Monday. Theo was woken by his father hammering on his bedroom door and calling out that the 'Dark Lord' had demanded the Nott's get to the Manor as soon as possible.

With his heart beating in alarm, Theo hurried out of bed and began to dress. As he was buttoning up his shirt, a flash of bright white light flew through his open window, swirled dizzyingly at the foot of his bed and finally formed the shape of a majestic eagle, which perched on the bed's rail. Daphne's Patronus.

"Theo," it began earnestly in Daphne's voice. "We've all been summoned to Malfoy Manor too. But I've come down with mild spattergroit – I'm unable to go. You said you were indebted to me for what I did during the duel with Flint. I'm claiming that debt now. I only ask this of you: when you go to the Manor, keep Astoria safe. Please. Do all you can to keep her from harm…"

Daphne's voice faded away as the eagle's form dissolved into nothing.

"Theo, we have to go! Now! We mustn't keep him waiting," Nott senior's voice called urgently.

Soon after, Theo and his father portkeyed to the Malfoy's, along with Astoria and her mother, Rhea. Theo learnt that the Greengrass patriarch was already at the Malfoy home. Narcissa appeared in the entrance hall and ushered the group towards the drawing room door, but stopped Theo at the threshold.

"Draco's in the kitchen," she said quietly, giving Theo a strained smile. "Why don't you go and wait with him in there for now?"

Theo nodded and made his way to the kitchen, relieved. He was thankful to avoid the presence of Voldemort for as long as possible.

The room was empty except for Draco, who had his hands clasped around the edge of the sink, his head bowed. He was taking shuddering, deep breaths, as if he was trying to stop himself from vomiting. He turned his head when Theo entered and gave a short nod of acknowledgement.

Theo had seen Draco in a bad state before, New Year's Day being one of them of course, but he was shocked by his appearance now. His forehead was slick with sweat, his skin was grey where it wasn't marred by tiny cuts, and his eyes were rimmed with purple circles.

"What's happened?" Theo demanded, his stomach turning queasily.

"Snatchers found Potter, Weasley and Granger," Draco's voice was hard and matter-of-fact. "They brought them here, but Potter's face was messed up so they weren't sure if it was him. They asked me to identify them but..."

"Did you?" Theo snapped the question out more harshly than he intended.

"I said I didn't know."

"But did you? Know?" Theo insisted.

"It was bloody obvious who Granger and Weasley were. And I'd know those annoying fucking green eyes anywhere."

Draco looked at Theo then, his eyes haunted but defiant. Something shifted in the air between them. The fact that Draco had lied about Potter and his friends' identities was the biggest admission of Draco's true loyalty that had passed between the two. Theo gave a sharp nod.

"Then what happened?" he asked.

Draco turned, leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms.

"They had the fucking sword of Gryffindor with them, which made Bellatrix absolutely batshit, so they put Potter and Weasley in the cellar, but –" Draco's voice cracked and he stopped, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Bellatrix isolated Granger for torture. She wanted to know where they'd found the sword."

Draco paused.

"How bad was it?" Theo asked gently.

"Pretty fucking bad," Draco's face twisted into a grimace. Looking down at his feet, as if talking to himself, he mumbled, "She wouldn't stop screaming. Granger. She wouldn't stop fucking screaming."

Draco looked at him then and there was something different about his eyes: a light had died in them. Theo knew Draco had seen his fair share of horrific sights in his young life, but it seemed something had irrevocably broken in him when he'd watched Hermione Granger being tortured.

Draco took a shuddering breath and spoke again. "So, confident they've nabbed Potter, they summon him. The Dark Lord. Greengrass did it. But Potter somehow managed to get our old house-elf to Apparate here on a rescue mission. It all ends up in this massive clusterfuck fight and they Disapparate away. Granger was barely conscious at the time. I don't know if she would have survived it..."

Theo felt a mixture of relief that the trio had escaped and dread because – "Greengrass summoned him? And then they got away?"

"Yep. He's in the drawing room now, mightily pissed off. With Greengrass in particular." Draco looked at Theo, urgency flitting across his face. "Is Daphne here?"

"No. She's ill – spattergroit."

Draco's shoulders relaxed slightly. "That's good. Because he uses people's loved ones as revenge. Particularly their children. That's what the whole thing with me was about, in Sixth Year. I know that now."

"But Astoria is. Here, I mean," Theo said gravely.

"Shit," Draco mumbled, just as Narcissa appeared in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously.

"Draco. Theo. You're wanted in the drawing room."

The fear Theo felt at that moment was like a physical assault. He tried to bury it, tried to squash it down, as he and Draco followed Narcissa out of the kitchen.

The drawing room of Malfoy Manor was a bloodbath.

The smell of blood and fear was overwhelming, and Theo had to force himself not to gag from it. There were three – no, four – bodies strewn on the floor and it seemed that Nagini had had free reign of them. Theo tried not to look too closely at their mutilated forms, but from what he did see, he didn't recognise them and assumed they were the snatchers that had caught Potter. Their blood was seeping slowly over the floorboards, coating them in a slick carpet of red.

Theo subtly scanned the room as he went to stand by his father. Voldemort was pacing slowly up and down in front of the fireplace. Aegeus Greengrass, Daphne's father, was kneeling on the floor in front of him, his head bowed. Snape stood just beyond Voldemort, by the mantelpiece, his expression grave. Theo noticed Pansy looking at him, trying to exchange a cold smile, but he made his eyes glide on and didn't acknowledge her.

"You have disappointed me again!" Voldemort exclaimed. He seemed to be addressing the whole room. He gesticulated with his wand and Theo had to force himself not to flinch. "Letting them get away. Calling me unnecessarily. It really does rather upset me, you see." Voldemort pointed his wand at Daphne's father, casting a spell that made the Greengrass patriarch's head jerk up violently so he had no choice but to look at his master. "Aegeus, how will you make this up to me?"

"Anything you ask, my lord," Greengrass responded with a shaking voice.

"Anything?" Voldemort cooed. "You have two daughters, yes?"

"Yes, but –"

"How old are they?"

"Sixteen and – and eighteen."

"And have you brought them here to meet me?"

"Daphne is ill, I'm afraid, my lord. Spattergroit. But Astoria is here."

Voldemort lifted his head and surveyed the room. "Bring her to me!" he commanded.

There was a shuffling from where Asotria was standing with her mother, as Antonin Dolohov pushed the young girl forward. She walked slowly to the fireplace and stood by her father. She wore a simple cotton summer dress, and her hair was in two plaits that fell down each of her shoulders. She was trembling.

"Kneel!" someone hissed at her, but as Astoria began to lower herself, Voldemort spoke.

"No, no, I would like to examine her!" He reached out his wand and poked it under Astoria's chin, using it to push up her face and giving her an assessing look.

"Would you like to be one of my followers, child?" Voldemort asked, his voice as smooth as velvet.

"I – I suppose so."

There was a ripple of whispers across the room and a strangled whimper from Rhea Greengrass. Voldemort chuckled. The sound made Theo's stomach churn.

"You do not sound very sure. Do you believe in my cause?"

Theo noticed Astoria's jaw clench determinedly and saw a fire in her eyes that would have belonged in a Gryffindor.

"Some of it," she said.

Theo cursed silently in his head. What the hell was the girl thinking? This was no time for principles, or for honesty about those principles. Where the fuck had her snake gone? He was aware that Astoria had been protected by her older sister and parents, but had Daphne not taught her the right time for truth and the right time for lies? Fuck.

"Some of it?" Voldemort repeated disdainfully. His voice was still calm but Theo knew there was a rage seething behind the red slits of his eyes.

Aegeus Greengrass was visibly shaking now. Others in the room stood tense, as if frozen by the exchange. They had all learnt to fear Voldemort's volatility.

He lowered his wand and gave Astoria an assessing look as his lips curled into an ominous smile. Daphne's voice echoed in Theo's mind: I only ask this of you: keep Astoria safe. Please.

Voldmort tilted his head, contemplatively.

"So pure. Too young to have such confused views. Clearly, you have not been fulfilling your duties as a parent and my follower, Aegeus. Maybe it will be good for your youngest daughter to be taken away and live somewhere she can be taught the correct ideals, and to be...nurtured to believe them unquestioningly."

"My lord, she is young, as you've said – " Greengrass started to protest.

"Silence!" Voldemort cried, flicking his wand at Aegeus in an apparent non-verbal Stupify. The man collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Macnair!" Voldemort called out, gesturing to the Death Eater who was standing by the piano. "Your previous charge is unfortunately no longer with you. Would you like to take care of this child? Come! See how you like her!"

Theo's gut twisted as Macnair come forward, his thin, greasy hair slicked back into a ponytail. He leered down at Astoria, reached out with a dirt-smeared hand and stroked his fingers down her cheek. He didn't stop there but continued, brushing his hand lightly over Astoria's small breasts. She let out a terrified whimper.

"I would love the pleasure of Re-parenting her, my lord, if that is what you wish."

"Yes...I think she would do well with you."

Please… Do all you can to keep her from harm.

Something snapped in Theo and he found himself moving forward, dropping to his knees beside the unconscious form of Aegeus Greengrass and bowing his head. Blood seeped through the knee of his trousers: wet, sticky and still lukewarm.

"My lord, I request permission to address you?" Theo willed his voice to sound steady, and to his relief it did.

"Theodore –" Theo heard his father's voice, edged in panic. "Apologies, my lord, he is impulsive –"

"Hush now," Voldemort said to Nott senior. Then, addressing Theo, "What is it you wish to say?"

Theo swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper.

"The girl is young. And foolish. But she has great promise. I can ensure she follows the correct path. I will do anything in my power to and will not disappoint you. She shows great talent and, as you have said, she is pure."

"So, you would like her as well?" Voldemort asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I can ensure her uncompromising loyalty to you. I will take it as my personal responsibility."

"You will do anything, you say?"

"Yes, my lord." Theo had to force the words out. The panic that had led him to kneel before Voldemort was fading and was being replaced by an ominous dread.

"Hmm…I am very pleased with your father," Voldemort said contemplatively. Theo didn't dare look up and so kept his gaze on the wooden floorboards in front of him. A fresh pool of blood was slowly but relentlessly edging towards him. "He has been loyal and useful to me. And I have received good reports from Hogwarts about you, young Nott, on the whole. Severus informs me you became rather...passionate towards the end of the last term. I admire strength and determination, young Nott, if such traits are used for the right purpose. If you take on responsibility of this girl, I need to know I have your unquestionable loyalty. Would I?"

"Of course, my lord," Theo lied.

"I will, of course, need to be absolutely certain of this."

Theo knew this had been coming and had been preparing his mind for it ever since he'd felt the wet stickiness of the snatchers' blood saturate his trousers. He mentally put into practice all he had learnt from Draco, forced up his Occlumency walls and pushed all memories and thoughts of Parvati behind them.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Theo's temple.

"Legilimens," he incanted softly.

It was as if cold fingers were rifling through his mind, icy cold fingers that burnt through his synapses. Images flashed into his consciousness: taking an I.S. badge from Amycus and pinning it to his school jumper, a book flying through the air and landing on the all-consuming flames of Alecto's fire, his wand arm achingly tense by his side as he watched fellow students get marked with the blood traitor curse, casting a Stupify at Michael Corner as he ran from the clearing in the Forbidden Forest...

Theo grimaced. His walls were weakening with the relentless strength of Voldemort's spell. His head throbbed in pain with the effort of keeping the dark wizard out, and cracks formed in his Occlumency walls. Memories of Parvati leaked through, but he could control which ones, to some extent. He allowed disjointed snippets, of his mocking tone and derisive comments, of selected times he'd kissed and touched her so, to Voldemort, it would look as if he'd been taking advantage, maybe even taking Parvati against her will.

Any hint at affection between them, at him betraying Voldemort's cause for her benefit, he thankfully managed to keep behind his walls. Affection and compassion was what Voldemort would be most suspicious of, what he would despise, and so Theo buried that deep inside himself. It's what he had been doing since a young age, in one form or another, and so he was well practised in it.

Finally, the dark wizard ceased his assault on Theo's mind.

Theo kept his head bowed, staring at a gap between the floorboards, where blood was seeping and gathering in a minute river of red. There was a silence, the only sounds being Theo's gasps as he caught his breath.

"It does, indeed, appear you are loyal to me. Snape has assured me of such. You are virile as well, it seems," Voldemort stated with slight amusement in his voice. "What status is this girl I have seen in your memories?"

"A pureblood, my lord," Theo responded, trying to sound indignant, as if any other possibility would disgust him.

"Very good. Very good. Then you would be honoured to take my mark, child?"

Theo's stomach contents lurched to his throat. It was one of his worst fears, taking the mark of Voldemort. It would be confirmation that he was just like his father: rotten and dark, tethered to this embodiment evil for as long as either of them lived.

"It would be an honour, my lord." Theo tasted bile in his throat as he forced the lie out.

"Excellent..." Voldemort said softly, before speaking more loudly to the rest of the room. "Followers – we will have one more among our number this evening. Please assemble! Stand, young Theodore!"

Theo stood. It was an inelegant, jerky movement as his legs had stiffened. The Death Eaters were forming a circle around Theo and Voldemort, pulling the hoods of their black cloaks low over their heads and rolling up their left sleeves. They each held out their arm and pointed their wand at their mark. Theo caught sight of his father, whose mouth twitched up into what was the closest thing Nott senior got to smiling. This was possibly the proudest Theo had made him.

Theo had not been at a Marking Ceremony before. He'd heard what happened from Draco, but actually being at one was wholly different, of course. Especially considering he was the one that was about to be branded.

"Theodore, your left arm," Voldemort requested.

Theo could not stop trembling as he pushed up his left sleeve and held his arm out. His unblemished skin gleamed pale in the gloom of the Malfoy drawing room, as Voldemort pointed his wand at it.

"Begin!" Voldemort commanded the room.

All around him, the Death Eaters started chanting an incantation. Theo could not make out most of the words, except for one that seemed to be repeated over and over again: Morsmordre… Morsmordre… Morsmordre...

Then Voldemort himself started reciting something under his breath as green light emitted from the end of his wand. Theo instantly felt an intense burning sensation on his arm, which seemed to burrow down into his tissue, deeper into his bone marrow, and travel along his nerves to the rest of his body. The spot of skin at which Voldemort was pointing his wand flared an orange colour, as if it were kindling, and then turned black, as if burnt. Theo grimaced in pain as Voldemort moved his wand excruciating slowly, tracing the outline of a skull. The smell of rotting flesh reached Theo's nostrils, and he realised it was coming from his own arm.

The Death Eaters around them continued their incessant mantra, and it was when Voldemort had finished burning the outline of the skull onto his skin that Theo started to feel it: a strange connection, a kind of tethering, to the man – the monster – in front of him, but also to the people standing around him, as if the pain in his arm were multiplied by how many others also bore the mark.

Theo watched with his jaw tightly clenched, determined not to show any weakness, as the outline of a snake emerged from the mouth of the skull and slithered down his arm, before becoming still.

Finally, Voldemort lowered his wand and the room fell silent. "Congratulations, my child. You are now one of us."

"Thank you, sir," Theo said, swallowing back the bile now on his tongue.

He looked down at the mark on his arm, bold and black against his pale skin. He seemed to be bleeding around the edges, although the bright red of the blood was clotting quickly.

As the pain dissipated and he watched the blood turn to a dull crimson, Theo felt something inside him die.

xXx

"So you got this because you saved Astoria from – from that man – that predator?" Parvati asked Theo now, in the gloom of the Hogwarts broom shed. "Theo, think about what that means. Think about what this Mark means. When I got this," – she gestured to her 'blood traitor' mark – "I could have felt branded, shamed. But I refused to interpret it how they meant it to be read. To me, it's a sign that I went out of my way to help my sister. That I stood up for something I believed, despite the consequences."

Theo had not intended to tell Parvati about his mark. He had been drawn to the shed that night because he'd wanted to be in the place where the memories of her were plentiful and rich, when the thought of seeing the real, living her had felt like too much. He had been convinced that being branded with the Dark Mark would finally be the end of Parvati and him. That if she found out, she would be disgusted, horrified, that she would finally see that they could never be.

He'd feared that he would have proven her right – that he was dark, evil and power-hungry, as she'd said all those months ago.

But her acceptance of it – of him – and how she was able to see beyond the mark, meant all his resolve, all his doubts about being with her had finally dissolved away.

Since he had spilled all his secrets to her, Theo felt like a weight that had been pressing down on his heart had lifted and something was shifting and unravelling from it. Maybe she was right – maybe the Mark didn't have to mean that he was tainted, rotten, dark. Maybe it could mean something else. If Parvati believed it, maybe he could too.

Her hand moved again, and she now traced her fingers along the light red, criss-crossing lines on his right wrist.

"And these? They're the mark of an Unbreakable Vow, aren't they?" she asked gently.

Theo nodded.

"What was it, Theo?" Parvati whispered into the dark. "What was the vow you made?"

A/N: So yeah - things got a bit dark...

Your thoughts/comments/reviews/favs are, as ever, cherished and treasured.