August 23th, 1994

York, England

Nott Manor

Here was the thing about Ignatius and Theodore. They weren't the typical father and son type you might find on wandering the street. They didn't have their weekly friday nights where they would go to see sports games. They didn't portkey to different countries every year just because Ignatius was afraid to leave Theodore alone in this house — Ignatius didn't care about Theodore enough to worry over such a thing. Instead, Ignatius had left home alone with the house-elves watching over his every move to see if he would do anything worth a punishment for entire summers. It didn't take long for Theodore to head for Draco's house, of course, but Theodore didn't exactly like going there either, what with Lucius Malfoy wandering about, being suspiciously shady.

You see, Ignatius Nott was a very proud man who made a sum simply based on the fact he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, nothing he possessed truly his creation. There was also the fact he'd pushed his wife down the stairs one night upon discovering of her affair with a muggle man (he remembered the man, he gave him a pocketful of a candy) and called it an accident to the authorities, his pride bruised and all that he was even discovered, and seeing as Mr. Nott was a very powerful man in possession of a huge amount of money that could literally ruin their lives if they dared to question him any further, he was left off the hook even though the whole case was wholeheartedly suspicious. Though that may just be because Theodore saw it happen, therefore he couldn't have possibly thought it wasn't suspicious at all for a mere second, had to watch as the life itself drained out of his golden-haired mother's blue eyes. Theodore would never be able to erase the look on her face when she fell down, the pure disbelief at what he had just done, and not curse himself for not having done something to save her mortal life. It flashed around his mind every night when he went to the bed to fall into a sleep, Georgina Nott's final moments witnessed only by the husband who loathed her enough to strip her of her life and a son whom she loved, but was nevertheless useless to help her when she needed it the most.

He had been five years old. Nobody would have believed toddlers even if he'd been brave enough to tell them. Nobody that mattered, anyway. They would all just consider it ramblings of a spoiled child. Except, he didn't think he could ever be spoiled with how much his father beat him around the house, punish him for the smallest thing he had done like the time he helped his best friend to get that piece of paper in Granger's hands when she'd been petrified. His best friend may be many things, prejudiced and arrogant to the core, but he wasn't heartless. He would never be able to have stood for it if innocent lives were destroyed because of something his father had done, and he didn't do anything to stop it even though he was fully aware. People judged him too quickly, Theodore always thought, just because he acted like a spoiled brat most of the time.

Theodore fell against the wooden floor with a loud thud, cursing quietly under his breath as he lifted his head to glare at his father. Theodore glared at his father, unwilling to say anything, lest he cry out in the pain.

Theodore had known he was risking his life when he'd helped out Sirius Black, of course, but he couldn't just let an innocent man be whisked away to Azkaban again. How did he know Sirius Black was innocent? Well, because it just didn't make any sense for him to betray James Potter and his wife. Theodore knew the basic history surrounding the Blacks quite well, which meant he knew that Sirius Black had shunned away his own blood for Potter's father. So, why would Sirius Black decide to betray the man only a decade after?

Ignatius Nott cast him an unimpressed glare as he pointed his wand at him, arching his eyebrows. "I've always known you were a coward, Theodore, but I never would've guessed you were a traitor just like your father. I thought I've raised you properly to erase all of that traitorous blood from your veins, but apparently not. Going out of your way to help out those children with their aid in Sirius Black's escape just proves my point. You are just like him, cowardly and traitorous. I've told you several times that the muggle filth isn't worth a second of your time since you were a boy, but did you ever listen? No." There was a bitterness in his tone which spoke of a history Theodore knew nothing about — it seemed there were a lot of things Theodore didn't know or even certain he wished to know.

Theodore stared disbelievingly at his father — except, he spoke as if Ignatius wasn't his father at all, but somebody else altogether, that couldn't possibly be true, could it?

Ignatius chuckled at the shocked look on his face, throwing a pitying look at him. "Oh, yes, you are very much adopted — and thank Merlin for that! Imagine the shame I would have had to bear if you were really of my blood." Ignatius walked around the room casually, getting closer towards him each second, which had Theodore reflexively moving away even further. He paused a minute to laugh maniacally, his eyes gazing down as if remembering something that happened a very long time ago. His throat went dry as a shed of fear went through him with an immense speed, making him shiver anxiously in the expectation.

"I've always known it was an awful idea to get involved with those loathsome Blacks. They are always up to something troublesome, I am telling you, but Georgina wouldn't listen — she refused to listen. She wanted that boy, that poor little orphaned boy, plain and simple." He lifted his head to glance at him, shaking his head bitterly at the memory. "I never should have agreed to her request. I know that now. I should have known any boy of Regulus Black and that filthy wench he called his wife would've been far more trouble than he was really worth. I should have left you there to rot along with your grandmother." Ignatius stepped closer to where Theodore laid with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You brought me nothing but trouble, Theodore. It's time for you to go back to your family, don't you think? So, when I come back to this room later on, you better be gone or else — I don't have to spell it out, do I?"

Theodore nodded his head at him, breathing heavily.

Ignatius considered him approvingly. "Very good." And then, with one last look at him, he walked away.

Theodore didn't realize that he hadn't been breathing before his father — his father? — walked away, and he finally took that long awaited breath in the relief, closing his eyes and sinking against the corner of the wall he was practically part of by now, but just as Theodore knew his father wouldn't come back for a while, he also knew he couldn't possibly stay here. He had to leave to some place safe, as Theodore didn't think he was merely messing around with him when he threatened Theodore's life, but where could he possibly go? Would he dare to go to Draco's, inpeeding threat of Lucius Malfoy and all? He needed answers, and he had a feeling the answers he longed for, Narcissa Malfoy had. If she didn't, well she would at least be able to tell him about this so-called father he had. That was a reason enough to head there right now, especially since he didn't really have anywhere else to go. With that decided, Theodore forced himself to his feet in spite of the pain that went through his knee at the spot his father had kicked at earlier, going up the stairs towards his room where he proceeded to pack everything he owned, once again thinking how truly stupid it was that they restricted underage spell casting. After what felt like hours — may have just been thirty minutes — Theodore grabbed his truck and ran out of the house before his father could catch him and murder him, running his mind through the fastest route to the nearest bus stop.

Knight Bus wasn't what he would have chosen if he was allowed to apparate, but it wasn't exactly like he had many choices right now. After all, it was either that or to walk — and it was a long way from York to Wilshire, far longer than his legs could stand. Theodore sighed, walking to the bus stop, wondering why nothing could ever go right in his life. Maybe he was a terrorist in his former life. That would explain so many things. For example, why he was allergic to cats even though they were one of the most adorable things that had ever been born, except for Granger's cat, of course. That thing was simply a menace. It was ugly as hell and it had just the attitude to match its appearance. Not that he would say such a thing to Granger, of course. She would probably try to hit him with her books if he did. He really should stop getting involved with those Gryffindors. They were a trouble his life definitely didn't need right now.

Theodore stopped by the bus stop, feeling quite like he'd walked right out of telenovela. Now, all they had to do was to add a twin sister to the match. Though, he wasn't exactly sure which one of them would be the evil one. Probably Theodore. He did have his flair for dramatics sometimes, as Tracey told him that one time after he purposefully faked an illness to get Draco off Potter's case, the only way Draco would have paid anyone else any attention whatsoever.

Potter owed him one. Though, he didn't exactly do it for him. He did it because, well — Draco was getting annoying. "London?" asked the driver as the bus doors spun open.

Theodore shook his head. "Wiltshire."

"Well, get in then."

Theodore did.

Wiltshire, England

Malfoy Manor

If Theodore was being entirely honest, there had always been something strange about the way Mrs. Malfoy treated him. The first time they'd met, Theodore remembered very clearly how she'd stopped in her track as if she'd seen a phantom, shaking vividly before she collected herself and forced a well-practiced smile, putting her hand on his shoulder and told him that whatever problem he may encounter in the future, their home would always be open for him. There was this strangest feeling he would get sometimes, like when she saw Theodore every single time, she wasn't actually seeing him, but the ghost of somebody she'd known a very long time ago. It all made sense now in his mind, why she reacted the way she did whenever she saw him, Theodore who surely must've reminded her of her cousin if anything his father told him were to be believed, of course. "You knew." It wasn't an accusation nor a question. It was a simple statement that neither one of them could really deny. There was a look in her blue eyes that told him more than anything she could ever say would. It was the truth, the things his father had told him as he laid bleeding on that floor. He couldn't have asked for a better confirmation. Theodore really didn't know how to feel about that. "You've known all along. Why didn't you tell me?"

Cissa sighed deeply, a somber expression on her face. "Because I wasn't fully certain you were who I thought you were. For all I knew, you could have just been a boy whom I simply thought looked like my beloved cousin. I needed confirmation and you arriving here today asking about my long dead cousin, is exactly what I've wished for all those years ago when I first met you, Theodore. I needed to know if you were really him, and you gave me that today." She smiled pleasantly at him, looking as if she'd finally been relieved of the stress and anxiety she'd suffered all those years just because she couldn't figure out if he was really her cousin's son. "Look, I am quite certain it is really difficult to accept it for a fact right now — especially right now, but Theodore, I just want you to know they really loved you and would've been all too happy to see the boy you've become. Anyone would have been proud to have you as their son, Theodore."

"Anyone but Ignatius, it seems." Theodore chuckled humorlessly, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Why didn't he love me?"

"Ignatius is a very proud man, Theodore. He'd always been since we were children, and all I can honestly say is that he possibly may have misdirected his anger at his wife. For all of his flaws, he did love her dearly, and it absolutely broke him when he found out that she didn't feel the same way." Cissa moved to grasp his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's not your fault, Theodore. It had never been your fault." Of course, it couldn't have been Theodore's fault. He knew that very well. He wasn't to blame for his mother's — adoptive mother's inability to stay faithful to her husband or his father's — his adoptive father's, Theodore reminded himself, frustration and anger. Theodore was to be blamed for many things, but not for those. He knew that, but he still couldn't help to feel responsible for them, as if only Theodore had been a better son and a better friend, those things wouldn't have happened, as if he could have stopped those from happening in the first place. Theodore also knew that was illogical. What could have he done? He was still nothing more than a broken shell of a boy who didn't even know parts of himself, of his heritage he should have figured out. After all, he did notice, didn't he, as many others did, Theodore Nott looked absolutely nothing like Ignatius Nott.

He could see it every day he looked at his own reflection in the mirror, remembered feeling the sensation of an alikeness when he lifted his head to finally meet Sirius Black's dark eye. Remembered the wide, disbelieving way the man looked at him when Theodore helped him to his feet at the end of the last school year, the way he looked as if he was going to break apart and cry every time he looked at either Theodore or Harry Potter. He even remembered the way the man grasped his hand tightly as if he didn't want to ever let go again. Theodore remembered them all, yet he had pushed that feeling away, that strange feeling he felt that clearly told him he didn't belong in that house with those people. The strange feeling that told him he belonged here with his best friend and his family of four, in the huge mansion that spoke history of what had taken the place so long ago.

Theodore finally took a deep, antagonizing breath. "Can you tell me who my mother was?" Theodore loved Georgina as much as he could ever love a mother who was the reason why his father abused him so awfully, why he had to hide the bruises that formed on his body in front of his friends, lest they figure out what he went through. He wondered what would happen if he really told Cissa the true extent of how his father — his adoptive father treated him.

He wanted to know.

"Lily Evans, though I suppose you already know what happened to her without me having to tell you." Suddenly, Theodore felt dazed, his heart beat quickly in his chest as he looked at her disbelievingly. "Oh yes, my cousin gave up everything for her because he loved her very dearly, but that woman married another man not long after his tragic death." Cissa sounded awfully bitter, as if she truly did hate the woman — his mother. "I told him that woman was nothing but a trouble, not worth falling for the way he did, but I do suppose that if she wasn't the way she was, he wouldn't have been interested in her in the first place. My cousin's taste in women has always been quite awful, if I am being honest."

"I — I think I need to go. I suppose I will see you later, Cissa?" Cissa nodded her head, giving him an apologetic smile. "Would you happen to know where Draco is? I think I need to talk to him."

"Check his room."

Theodore nodded his head, swiftly turning away from and stalking from the room before he could do anything he would regret, like ask her to tell him more about his birth parents. He didn't think he really needed to hear that right now. Theodore walked with heavy steps slowly, feeling as if he was in a daze, as if he was about to faint any moment now. It all felt too much right now. Theodore walked up the stairs, turned left. He walked and walked until he finally stopped by a room, opening the front doors wide where he could clearly see Cassiopeia Malfoy, the youngest Malfoy child, putting a paper crown on her brother's blond head. "You are a prince now, Draconis." Cassie told him, giggling quite happily. "And a prince's duty is to be pretty. So, you absolutely cannot do anything reckless that would ruin your face, alright? I would be very disappointed in you if you do, big brother."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows at her, frowning. "What do you mean by that, Cassie? You know I am always the prettiest."

"Sure you are." She didn't sound convinced. "Would you allow me to add a glitter to your hair, Draconis, pretty please? I promise I would make you look even more pretty."

"If you do, I am disowning you, and stop calling me Draconis. You know how much I hate that name."

"It's your name, though." Cassie shrugged, looking as if she didn't care what he thought about that.

"Theodore." Draco lifted his head with a wide, disbelieving look in his eyes. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

"I — Draco, I really don't know what to do anymore." He shook his head with tearful eyes, feeling his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "I came here because I wanted to get answers to my questions, but by coming here, I have even more questions than I did before. I don't know how I should feel. I don't know anything anymore."

"Hey, it's alright." Draco got up to his feet, reached for his shoulder and hugged him. "I really don't know what's going on, but we will figure out. That's what we always do, isn't it, Theo? We help each other out." The blonde pulled away from him and smiled reassuringly at him, grasping his shoulder.

"I —," But before Theodore could say anything else, he finally saw the consequences of overall stress he went through these past few hours and was pulled into a darkness by his body, leaving his friend to fuss over him.