Theodore awoke to the sound of the rain pounding against his window. The clock to his right read 5:30, or at least he thought it did.

The letter was still in his hand, crushed and worn by the weight of his grasp.

Mr. Nott,

Your father has been sent to Azkaban for conspiring against the Ministry, helping He Who Must Not Be Named return to power and for the countless deaths that have happened by his hands as a Death Eater.

The Ministry will contact you at a later date with arrangements for your whereabouts until you come of age.

Cornelius Fudge

Minister of Magic

It was so heartless, so… cold.

He couldn't even bring himself to look at it anymore, though he would not let go of the letter either.

This letter was simply cold, hard proof that he was now an outcast in the Wizarding World. Dumbledore's side would never trust the son of a Death Eater and he knew he could never face Voldemort after what had happened to his father. Voldemort was the sole reason that he was in this predicament. Voldemort had left his father behind.

Dad would never forgive him for playing neural though. His father always said to never have sympathy for those who play both sides of the fence and then go whine about how much it hurts when they get a picket shoved up their ass.

The thought made Theodore smile.

He really did miss his father, as much as he hated to admit it sometimes. Plus, it wasn't like he was the only one in this predicament. Draco sailed along on the same ship as him.

Well, the thought wasn't too comforting. It would be in his better interests to shove Draco off his boat so he wouldn't have to suffer being near him.

Damn. That kid was obnoxious.

Theodore's attention was pulled from his thoughts by the sound creaking stairs. He closed his eyes, only to open them up again when the sounds stopped.

Early risers, he thought.

Theodore turned to face the door, wrapping the sheets tighter around him to block out the bitter cold. Hopefully they wouldn't come in and check up on him because that was the last thing he wanted at this point. He just wanted to lie in this bed until night fell again. Lie here until death came to give him one last caress.

He closed his eyes, sinking down into the comfort of the bed. The rhythm of his breathing became steady and his train of thoughts slowly began to come to a halt.

Knock.

He opened his eyes; everything was once again a blur.

Knock.

"Yes," he answered, his voice faltered slightly making the response sound more like a question.

The door creaked open. His aunt stood, her hesitance gave way into a tangle of nerves though Theodore did not notice.

"Uh, I was wondering if you wanted anything to eat or drink…" she said. "Or would you just like to sleep longer?" She bit her lip.

He knew the emptiness of his stomach would keep him form falling back asleep. He knew he should go downstairs. He knew he had to be nice to the muggles because no one else would take him in.

"Breakfast would be fine," he said.

She was taken aback, "Oh, great," she said. "Anything in particular? We have all kinds of stuff."

"Whatever you have is fine," he said, giving her a polite smile.

"Wonderful, if you come downstairs in a few minutes I'll be ready to get you something…"

"Alright, thank you."

The door shut quietly behind her.

Theodore turned back to face the other side of the room and closed his eyes. His stomach gnawed at his thoughts. Slowly, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and then stood up unsteadily on his feet.

He kicked open the trunk, fumbled for whatever he could find and dressed himself quickly. With a quick look in the mirror, he combed his hair out with his fingers so he looked somewhat decent and headed out the door.

He felt the stairs creak beneath his feet as he walked slowly down them. With a thought back to yesterday, he had a faint idea of the house's setup but no idea where the kitchen was.

His aunt was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a cup of steaming coffee in one hand.

"Are you sure there's nothing in particular you want?" she asked.

He nodded and followed her into the kitchen.

She opened up several of the cabinets and glanced inside. "We have cereal… eggs… toast… pancakes…," she said.

"Um, cereal is fine," Theodore said, eyes avoiding her gaze.

"Alright, if you're sure, because I don't mind making you something…"

"No, I'm fine," Theodore said, "Thank you."

"Okay," she said. After a short sip of coffee, she motioned for him to follow her to the pantry. "We have all kinds of cereal; just pick whatever one you like. The bowls are in the cabinet above the over and the silverware is in the drawer to the right of the sink. Milk, of course, is in the fridge. Sorry to leave you so soon but I have to get ready for work or I'll be late. Just make yourself at home." She smiled and headed for the stairs.

Theodore looked at the boxes after watching her leave. He browsed the names and settled on corn flakes.

The kitchen table was small, seating two people. He remembered being told that his relatives had no children of their own, but surely they had company over once in a while?

He gave up on the thought as he shoved a spoonful of corn flakes into his mouth.

Muggles.

He would be spending a whole summer living with muggles, living as a muggle.

His stomach lurched and butterflies flew into his stomach and through his veins. He felt a sudden rush of nervous adrenaline.

How could his father do this to him? Just leave him with these people?

How was he going to survive?