A Catalyst
-fragment of a journal entry
I am as shocked as you probably are, truly. We assumed that defection left the task impossible to fulfill… and as awful as this sounds, remember that Dumbledore was never the symbol for the Light, Luna. It remains to be Harry. Remind people of that. I worry for him. Tell him I'm coming back for the funeral. Tell him I'm sorry. So, so sorry...
The funeral service for the late Headmaster just ended. It was the most extraordinary summer's day, nearly too warm for the dress robes draped on Theo's figure. If it were any ordinary summer's day, he'd be soaking in the sun 500 feet in the air on his broomstick as he lobbed a quaffle back and forth with Draco. Or maybe he'd be stretched on the fragrant, heated grass near the Black Lake, glamouring his face outrageously until his friends were doubled over in laughter.
Instead, he had to sit through an extremely pompous service- and as a Pureblood, he intimately knew pompous- for a man that held little of Theo's regard when he was alive.
Dead… what good was regard, then?
Theo's attention moved away from the completely marble tomb… which wasn't pompous at all… and watched as the oddball Ravenclaw flitted from one group of students to another, whispering a few words or bending an ear, sometimes even placing a hand on a downcast set of shoulders. She moved like consolation, personified.
It made him sick.
Grief, true grief, sat bone-deep. It settled into the marrow and became a part of daily life, nigh undetectable… the hours would pass and the Earth would turn and for a moment the grief's forgotten about, until a scent or a memory or the echo of a long-lost voice would reignite the emotion until it was vibrating through your whole body.
True grief remained forever- there was no consoling it away.
By now, Loony had moved away from the crowded rows of seats and was cozy within a circle of students that included Potter, Weasel, and Weaselette, as well as a student Theo didn't recognize. She had unremarkable straw-colored hair, a middling figure, and the most familiar energy.
Theo's eyes narrowed. He politely murmured an 'excuse me' to Blaise, who thankfully struck up a conversation with Daphne, no-questions-asked.
A rarity, indeed, for the nosy git.
Reassured, Theo discreetly disillusioned himself then wound his way through the crowd until he was in earshot of the group.
"Harry, can you tell me what happened? I've been going mad where we're staying."
Although his voice was quiet, Scarhead's tone was cross.
"Why don't you ask Malfoy? I suspect it's why he ran."
Ah. So it's Granger, polyjuiced. Warm relief ran through Theo at the sight of her; most nights since they escaped nearly ten weeks ago, Theo agonized over if they were safe.
If it had all worked out.
If he amounted to more than just comic relief for once in his best mate's life.
Polyjuiced Granger sounded beleaguered when she sniped back.
"I ask Draco plenty. And when," she emphasized with deadly certainty, "you next see him, perhaps if you ask nicely he will tell you all the reasons for which he ran. But today, I'm asking you."
Her tone softened, prepared to cushion glass. To carry difficult truths.
"What happened, Harry?"
The boy exhaled and his ridiculous fringe fluttered. Theo wanted to insert a difficult truth and state that clearly the boy had never been introduced to a comb.
Potter started to talk under his breath, so Theo inched forward to catch the words.
"I was coming back from a trip with Dumbledore," he said miserably and Granger ran her hand up and down Potter's arm in an attempt to soothe. "When we apparated back on the grounds, we saw the Dark Mark over the Astronomy tower. Dumbledore was weak, but he transferred us up there."
Theo caught the faintest crinkle between Lovegood's eyebrows, a clear indication that a wildly inappropriate thought had risen up but she refrained as Harry continued, the story unraveling as he fell victim to his emotions.
"Before I knew it, he had me under the cloak and frozen. I couldn't do anything, even as Pansy Parkinson unveiled herself in the tower."
Granger gasped, covering Theo's own sharp intake of air. The news sliced painfully through his chest and all at once the day of mourning felt truly needed.
Pansy may not be his closest friend, she may not be real likable most of the time, but no one deserved her fate.
Theo saved one just to doom another.
Potter continued so, for the moment, Theo stifled the self-hatred, knowing he had all summer to berate himself over the collateral damage of his own actions.
"She disarmed him," he admitted this disbelievingly, "and said that her task was to kill him. Dumbledore asked how that came to be," and at that Potter's eyes flicked accusingly up to Granger's blanched face.
Instinctively, Theo moved to shield Granger. He didn't care if Potter was the bloody chosen one; the arse was also bloody ignorant. Granger, though, held her ground.
"We've no time for me to justify every little thing, Harry. Not that I should even have to."
The tension between the two was crackling and fierce in its force such that Theo could have sworn it rippled his disillusionment charm.
Finally, Lovegood breached the silence. "Please continue, Harry."
The boy rolled his shoulders stiffly and then dropped his eyes away. Theo's anger flared at the hurt that flashed across Granger's face.
Potter started to mutter at this point, the agitation just under the surface, and his low tone forced Theo another meter closer. "Parkinson seemed to hesitate but finally answered loyalty was what brought her here. Dumbledore fucking frowned at her, like she needed pity or something!"
The words came out overloud and with the only functioning brain among them, Lovegood discreetly cast an overdue Muffliato that thankfully he was also encased in. Potter quirked a grateful, little ghost of a smile in Lovegood's direction.
Theo's hands fisted for no reason whatsoever. The git, however, seemed to be growing exhausted by the retelling because he rushed through the end.
"The Death Eaters showed up not long after. I recognized them from last summer," and he shared a quick look of significance with Weasel and Granger. "They kept goading Parkinson to just do it but she was literally shaking. Then Snape stepped forward."
Potter snarled and his whole audience straightened at the sudden vitriol.
"Dumbledore begged him, said please. And that bastard killed him."
Potter finally broke down.
And Theo choked on a miserable mix of relief and despair.
Relief that it wasn't Draco, that it didn't turn out to be Pansy.
Despair that it had to be Snape.
Lovegood flicked those maddeningly clear eyes up from Potter, who was now being consoled by the Weaselette, to Theo's disillusioned form.
A smile inexorably curved her lips.
"Hello, Theodore Nott," and the witch twirled her wand to break the disillusionment. Theo gaped at her utter nerve before rearranging his features into a neutral mask of indifference as the other four swiveled surprised stares.
He cleared his throat.
"Potter. Weaselette. Weasel. Granger."
The polyjuiced-girl gasped at his recognition and then she was moving away from Potter's side, away from her long-time friends to grasp Theo between shaking hands.
"You snake," Granger smiled through a sheen of tears. "How did you know?"
Lovegood barged into their reunion, having no grasp of social convention. She said quite solemnly, "You have very unique energy, Hermione," and Theo begged Salazar for mercy from this intuitive, crazy chit.
Exasperated, he only raised his eyebrows in Lovegood's direction before encircling Granger in a protective huddle.
"Tell me everything," he murmured as Granger relaxed minutely into the support of his arm. Theo could see the vexed faces of her friends but Lovegood had moved back to them, back to her natural state of pacifier, and for the moment Theo thankfully had Granger all to himself.
"I can't tell you everything," Granger said, snaring his attention. "But we're safe."
Theo remained silent but when Granger provided no additional information, he prodded. "How's Draco?"
She cleared her throat, eyes dancing everywhere except to Theo, before admitting, "He was furious I came. Thinks it's dangerous. He's also…"
She paused and dread unfurled in Theo, stiffening his muscles until Granger squeaked from his strong hold.
"He's struggling, Theo. It's been almost 10 weeks since we ran and occasionally, still, Voldemort tries to force him into the open by calling through the Dark Mark."
Granger choked on the admission and the dread filling every cell of Theo turned icy as the truth of the outside world was laid directly in his purview. He hadn't expected to avoid it forever- it wasn't long before he was back under the eye of his father, after all- but Theo hadn't prepared…
There was no quip to dissolve this tension, no inappropriate rejoinder to shoo this reality away.
Granger continued to ramble, undeterred by Theo's tense silence. Apparently he wasn't one to depend on for comfort. "I've pretty much spent the entirety of our time away researching a solution, however weak, to help ease the pain. I landed on runes actually. But the method is -" she slid an uncomfortable look to Theo and then asked abruptly, "Is Blaise around? I'd like his opinion."
Troubled, Theo held her a moment longer in hopes that she would divulge a little more. She didn't and he sighed. He released her and craned his head, finding Blaise easily as a lone, dark statue staring intensely in Theo's direction.
Bloody nosy prat.
Nevertheless, he nodded toward Blaise and Granger unhesitatingly took off.
Theo turned back and found three lions attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to glare him into leaving. Never one to forego ruffling feathers, Theo approached them again although he chose to stop at Lovegood's side.
The dragon you know and all that.
"So, Weasel," Theo drawled, "I see you're missing your Lavender-shaped shadow. Trouble in paradise?"
Predictably the boy flushed. His jaw clicked in attempt to withhold a retort but frustration won out- per usual with these gingers- and the words pushed past Ron's lips.
"Yeah, there's trouble," Ron hissed, "it's called a bloody war."
Ron raked a loaded look over Theo and the unvoiced accusation banked in the stare riled him.
Theo had no role to play in this war. In fact, he didn't want one. He was born into it like everyone fucking else. Was it his fault that he shared blood with a sadist?
Ron bared his teeth at the dark look that passed over Theo's face.
Apparently, it was his fault.
Just as he was about to lash back, Lovegood stirred beside him and instantly Theo's attention shifted. She was plaiting her hair, seemingly unaware of the resentment simmering between the two boys, when she asked Theo to hold the ends of one braid.
Reluctantly, he grasped it and then Ron continued hotly, as if a single engaged hand would keep Theo at arms' length.
"There's no place for relationships in a war. It's just a weakness the enemy could use against you." At this, the ginger shot a pointed look to the Savior himself.
Sickeningly, Theo actually agreed with the prat's evaluation, although he could bring the dramatics down a touch. Theo half thought about it as he absently played with the silken strands in his hand, watching how Potter murmured to the female Weasley.
How they broke from the group, his hand a phantom guide on the girl's back.
A stifled hum of assent eventually settled in Theo's throat, despite that it was a Weasley he was agreeing with- he knew a truth when he saw one and Weaselette would be a perfect entry point to Potter's martyr-like morality.
Moving to cross his arms, Theo shook his head at the pitiful couple but was cut short.
"You might want to let go first," the blonde next to him said. Theo swallowed back his embarrassment and shook his hand free, shoving the traitorous thing in the folds of his robes. Lovegood completed her braid, murmuring a sticking spell to secure the ends. She hefted the mass over her shoulder and smiled a bit vacantly.
Theo didn't trust it one fucking bit.
He cleared his throat then asked, "Did you know Granger was going to attend the funeral?"
"Of course," she replied, her gaze far and away over the Black Lake. "If you know Hermione, then you know she wouldn't abandon Harry."
Theo closed his eyes in supplication. The chit was like a damn sphinx- ask her a question and she'd only talk you into a circle. Theo was determined, however, to force her onto a straight path.
Stepping in front of her, Theo broke her focus on the rippling surface of the Lake. He balked slightly at the newfound intensity in her gray eyes before pressing, "No, Lovegood. Did you know via the journal?"
She blinked. "Of course."
Lovegood shifted as if to move back to the others, as if the circuitous direction of the conversation was boring her and thus no longer worth her attention and Theo suddenly had the urge to tug on her freshly braided hair.
Hard.
He resisted, instead trapping her with his words because dammit it was the one thing he was good at.
"Were you ever going to tell us?" He demanded. Lovegood looked over her shoulder, genuinely confused.
"You never asked." Then she truly did dismiss him, loping through the grass on her way to reunite with Granger who had moved away from Blaise and back toward her fellow lions.
Theo really regretted not pulling her hair.
With long strides, he stalked her from behind; trying to convince himself all the while that it wasn't worth the mere second of satisfaction when pulling hair would most certainly result in unwanted attention.
Still though… as Lovegood came within reach, Theo impulsively curled a finger into the bottom of the braid, forcing her to come to a stop several meters from her friends.
On an impatient breath Theo asked, "How am I going to know what's happening once we're separated for the summer, if you don't deign to inform us while in the same castle?"
The slightest shiver moved up her spine, so subtle that if it weren't for her shimmery dress robes Theo never would have been able to detect it.
But as it quick as it was there, it dissipated, and Theo hadn't the chance to appreciate the meaning behind its existence in the first place.
Lovegood turned fully towards him and so he disengaged his fingers for the second time that day. She studied him as he attempted to be serious, a demeanor that did not come naturally; then again, Theo wasn't necessarily afraid to try hard things.
He was talking to Loony, after all.
At the thought, a disturbing and mischievous smile cut across Lovegood's face and he wondered, not for the first time, if the girl was a Legilimens. Her eyes seemed to glow with the acquisition of new knowledge.
He really needed stop thinking his thoughts so loudly.
"It's your face that gives you away, Theodore," as Lovegood took two lazy hops backwards. "Why don't you come visit me this summer? To see the journal."
She moved back toward the group and Theo slumped from the realization that this wouldn't be the last time he would be outmaneuvered- literally or figuratively- by Luna bloody Lovegood.
A/N: AHHH I couldn't help it! I was going to push off this update until sometime next week but the spring sunshine has me antsy and a verrry rough draft of chapter 4 is almost complete. What the hell, I'm playing it fast and loose- I hope, then, you can enjoy a new point of view and the actual start to TRS!
Also, another note: I aim to have chapter 5 and 6 mostly complete before I move to post chapter 2 and did you know that reviews have some magic power in making that writing go faster? hahah