Chapter 6: Of Hearts and History
The afternoon at Malfoy Manor passed in a flash. Narcissa chatted with the Gryffindors while the Slytherins dashed in and out of rooms periodically between moving things around and hexing each other – first because Blaise locked Theo out of the library and then because Theo hexed Draco's hair pink and stole his wand before the arrogant Lord of the Manor noticed.
"C'mon, Hermione should have the bigger bedroom, it's only polite–"
"Like she needs a bedroom. She's just gonna crawl in with Draco every chance she gets–"
"Watch your mouth, Zabini!"
"Watch your hair, Pygmy Puff!"
Thump.
"… no, Zabini's just jealous since Hermione's gonna replace him as Draco's wife–"
"Rictusempra!"
"You missed. Anyway, think Ginny'll crash with Hermione?"
"Who're you kidding? She's gonna crash with Harry."
"… Theo doesn't even need a bedroom, just chuck a couple blankets in the library."
"Are we going to pretend Hermione won't crawl in with me if I stay in the library–?"
THUNK.
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The peculiar household gathered in the dining room for dinner. Narcissa sat Hermione on her right so they could continue their discussion on curse-breaking. As the witches chatted, they occasionally sent exasperated glances down the table at the boys, who constantly talked over each other and might've started battling out their differences a couple times. Twice Narcissa reminded the wizards of the no wands at the table rule, so they settled for flicking peas at each other when she and Hermione weren't looking.
By the time pudding came around, everyone had become giggly. Perhaps it was the elf-made wine, but Hermione thought she'd never seen Draco this adorable. He was flushed from laughing and his lips were covered in strawberry mousse.
"Hermione dear, I truly thought we couldn't have a more brilliant mind at this table, but I believe you give young Theodore here a run for his Galleons," Narcissa teased. Theo clasped his hand to his heart and made a horrified face as though she gravely wounded him, making Hermione giggle.
"Young Theodore?" Hermione whispered to red-cheeked Theo when Narcissa turned to her other side to remind her son to wipe his lips.
"My father was affectionately known as 'Old Man Theodore'." Theo murmured back. "I've always hated my full name, especially because he wouldn't allow me to be called anything else. When I made friends at Hogwarts, I insisted they call me Theo. Narcissa isn't fond of nicknames so she's the only one I allow to call me Theodore, but she keeps me separate from the old one." He smiled affectionately in Narcissa's direction.
"Young one," Blaise teased under his breath from Theo's other side.
"By two weeks," Theo huffed indignantly.
"Are you all close in age?" Hermione asked.
"I'm the oldest," Blaise said proudly. "I was born in April, two weeks before Theo, then Draco came in early June." He flicked a leftover pea at his blond friend. "He's always been the baby."
Hermione giggled behind her hand at Draco's expression.
"He does like to get his way," Harry muttered sideways through a smirk. Draco ran out of food to throw and was forced to just scowl at the bespectacled annoyance.
"Well, he didn't have siblings to compete with," Narcissa pointed out with a smile.
"He does now," Hermione teased. Draco still scowled, but she detected a hint of a grin.
"Actually, Theodore and Draco have known each other since they were just a few months old." Narcissa mused between delicate sips of her wine. "Lucius accompanied Theodore Senior on business for several weeks and we insisted Emelia bring the baby to stay here. Both boys were teething, so we helped each other through it."
"So, this prat has been invading my home practically his whole life," Draco said with a sigh.
Narcissa lightly smacked her son on the arm. "At least he continues to be a quiet invader, unlike my son and his appalling set of lungs. I recall the house-elves had to knit themselves thicker pairs of earmuffs each week!"
Ron chortled and Blaise grinned approvingly.
"Draco's always been quite vocal in his demands, hasn't he, Theo?"
But the chair between he and Hermione was empty.
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Narcissa had both hands over her cheeks.
"Oh, I'm so foolish …"
"It's alright, Mother, you didn't know." Draco's drawl softened into a gentle, reassuring tone, and every hint of his scowl vanished. He glanced at Blaise. "We shouldn't've let him drink a second glass."
"Perhaps I should–" Narcissa began.
Blaise was already rising from his chair. "No, I can–"
"Actually," Draco cut them both off. "I doubt he'll talk to anyone but Hermione right now." He met her eyes across the table. "Will you?"
Narcissa looked concerned as Hermione nodded and rushed from the dining room.
"Draco, she doesn't know the Manor very well, are you sure–?"
"She'll find him." Draco said softly. "There's something I need to tell you about us …"
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Theo seemed to share Hermione's desire to hide in a library when he wanted to be alone. She had to stifle a gasp as she followed their connection through the double doors of the tallest library she'd ever seen. Where the Black library had been nearly as wide as a Quidditch pitch, the Malfoy library was nearly as tall as Gringotts' golden hall.
The walls were panelled in walnut. Books were stored on shelves at the ground level, but in the great expanse above hovered thousands of neat stacks of all sizes gently drifting through the room like clouds. Hermione supposed the tomes must be grouped by subject, or perhaps by author. At either end of the room stood a massive fireplace surrounded in stone and flanked by banners embossed with the Malfoy family crest.
As she made her way through the room, she discovered cozy armchairs tucked away between the haphazardly organised shelves. With the fireplaces large enough to stand in and the twists and turns created by the tall bookshelves, she wondered if the library was modelled after a medieval labyrinth.
She found Theo huddled in an armchair with the alchemist's book lying open in his lap.
"They let you come alone," he said softly.
Hermione put her hand on his arm and, over his shoulder, saw that he was open to the full transcription of the Mage Elementum.
"You said your mother read it to you," she said quietly. Theo nodded once, not taking his eyes off the page. His cheeks were flushed from the wine.
Hermione sat on the arm of his squashy chair.
"She had a lovely name."
"Yes. I forgot," Theo slowly closed the book. "I forgot it was beautiful."
Hermione sat very still, expecting that if he wanted to mourn, he'd appreciate silence. To her surprise, he suddenly burst out in anger.
"How could I possibly remember her name was beautiful when he did nothing but SCREAM it? After she was gone, he could only say it with pure hate!"
Theo brought his fist down on the closed book.
"He hid her books from me, he tried to beat away my memories, he burned every portrait – he wouldn't even say her name unless he spat it like a CURSE!"
All her wizards were prone to outbursts that Hermione could handle, but Theo never raised his voice. His face was beet red, he glared forward furiously, and he gripped the book so tightly Hermione thought he intended to tear it in half.
"He didn't … I couldn't mourn – he wouldn't even let me CRY!"
Tears poured down Hermione's cheeks as she sat frozen. She wanted to comfort him, but she imagined touching his shoulder and causing an explosion …
Her heart pounded. For the first time, part of her feared Theo.
After a long time of him glaring forward at nothing, barely breathing, he bent in half and pressed his forehead against the book on his lap. He was mumbling angrily under his breath. Hermione thought of sending her Patronus for Draco or Blaise; would they know how to comfort him?
"… wanted to die instead … wish he just killed me … been easier–"
"No!" Hermione burst out.
She fell to her knees before the chair and gripped his knee firmly, all fear of angering him further entirely forgotten.
"Theo, no. I know you– you wanted to. When … the bond–" she struggled to speak through her tears. "I felt it … you wanted to give up, and I was so scared … I th– thought I'd–!"
She kept a hand clamped on his leg and held the other over her mouth as she tried to breathe, her heart racing in distress.
"… I thought I'd lose you!" she sobbed.
Very slowly Theo raised his dark head just enough to see her tear-stained face.
Why would she … Nobody cries for me–
Theo felt an odd twinging in his chest that he hadn't felt in a very long time.
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"What happened to Theo's mother?" Harry asked tentatively. Draco had escorted Narcissa to her tearoom so he could tell her about the Mage legend.
Blaise was mussing his short, dark hair and biting his lip.
"Were the rumors true?" Ron murmured in an undertone. "Nott Senior killed her?"
"He didn't kill her," Blaise answered quietly. "He destroyed her."
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Hermione wiped her eyes fiercely. The very idea that Theo might not have survived to become her Guardian made her sick. Her life without him now would be like life without her left arm. She glared at the book angrily, the book that fueled his theories and drove them to the stupid courtyard where he'd nearly given up.
A long finger under her chin made her raise her head.
He didn't cry. He hadn't cried since he was twelve years old. But the pain in his dark blue eyes drove into Hermione like a sharpened stake.
"I'm so foolish," he said softly.
He thrust the book to the floor and with strength he didn't know he possessed, he lifted Hermione from the floor to his lap.
Like Ron, he was just so tall that he made her feel like a child sometimes.
"I still let him control me ..."
Theo's eyes were squeezed shut and he pressed his face into Hermione's shoulder. He inhaled sharply and continued in a muffled voice, "He broke me so many times, and I forgot … Hermione, I forgot that you fixed me. But I'm still terrified … I expect him to break down my door and tell me it was all a lie. I never had real friends, I never had you … it was all a trick, or a dream–"
Hermione pulled back and steadied his face between her hands so she could look at him properly.
"No, I'm right here, and I'd be a mess without you, Theo. I wouldn't've accepted who I am. I wouldn't have Blaise or Draco. Without you, my wild magic might've turned me into a monster! We fixed each other."
She reached for his shaking hand and held it tightly, knowing he could feel the warmth from the bond. Even from his lap, she didn't feel like a child now. She needed to be the strong one this time, for him.
"We fixed each other," she repeated. "When I found out I– I wanted to leave. I didn't want the responsibility; I was terrified. But you …" she squeezed his hand. "You kept me here. You made me believe, remember?"
Theo looked down at their hands and felt the magical warmth … the magic he hardly dared believe in, but that he'd used to convince her. He'd been the wise owl in her fairy tale.
Once again, he thought he felt his heart twinging unfamiliarly and he closed his eyes. He felt as though he were blindly clawing his way through a dark cavern to a long-forgotten hiding place. Even as a young child, he never believed he loved his father. He only ever loved her. And when he lost her, he hid his heart. It became buried under sorrow, fear, and smoldering ruin. Out of necessity he became numb, focused, and single-minded.
Just learn. Read. Survive.
Being close to people was impossible; Theo trusted nobody beyond a casual friendship.
But then Hermione came along. She shocked him, and he felt that magical warmth. She broke every rule. She reached for him. She trusted him. And when she extended her soul to accept him, he felt his heart again. Hermione's magic joined with his own, and he'd seen it. It was pure, and cleansing–
Theo had a wild thought. Did he dare believe their bond could heal him?
In the darkest places of his soul, Theo tore through the memories, the pain, and the hatred to find the center of all his fear. When he found out Harry had been a horcrux, Theo asked him what it felt like.
It felt like this; like a monster buried in his body that he couldn't control. The monster that still appeared in his dreams to make him afraid. It felt like his own father had made him into a horcrux; the old man's poisoned soul was gone, except for the piece that remained buried in Theo. The piece that still burned him any time he failed.
He was terrified; he avoided this hidden part of himself with every fibre of his conscious mind. But Hermione was strong and steady … the warmth in her hands reminded him what he had to live for and how he pushed through the fear once before.
Theo opened his eyes and looked again at their joint hands. Hermione's pure, white-gold, indescribable soul reached out for him. His own soul tentatively mixed with hers, but when he focused, he realised it was discoloured … stained, as though a dark vein ran through it like a poisonous current.
He tainted my heart, my soul … and I allowed it.
Theo gripped her hands tightly and focused everything, every inch of his magic, his soul, his bond onto the core of the blackness.
I will NEVER let him touch her!
Fear pulsed through Theo's heart like poison, and he ignored it. As though the imaginary horcrux were a real figure, a monster, he imagined draining the life from it. The pure light of Hermione's soul enveloped it – or was it his soul? Suddenly he could no longer tell them apart.
The monster screamed and cursed and fought, but the light made it crumble. Theo thought he should be angry … he should be furiously banishing this evil to the very corners of Hell itself, but against all reason, he felt peaceful.
When it was over, he still remembered everything.
But he wasn't afraid anymore.
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Harry and Ron picked at the remnants of their puddings while Blaise spoke.
"Old man Nott was one of the first Death Eaters. He was obsessed with all the stuff the Dark Lord was trying to do, like wipe out Muggle-borns and promote pure-blood supremacy. Nott had a lot of influence since he was the only surviving heir to one of the oldest families in Britain, and he had this gift of charisma that brought in supporters. I guess he clung to the Dark Lord 'cause he wasn't a great wizard on his own, but during the First Wizarding War he was like the Dark Lord's political voice, so they had a good business relationship. He didn't care much about family 'til it looked like they'd come out of the war victorious; then Nott wanted an heir.
"Some Sacred Twenty-Eight families still use arranged marriages to keep their blood pure," Blaise admitted. "Even Draco's parents were arranged, but they dated in school, so they didn't mind. Nott wanted Emilia Selwyn 'cause she was raised in France. No British witch would have him, so he coerced the Selwyns somehow to arrange his marriage to her.
"I never saw him myself, but Draco says he was a right ugly wizard. Theo's lucky; he got his looks from his mother. He just got stuck with his father's messy hair," Blaise added teasingly before his face turned dark. "Emilia was a real beauty, I guess. She was almost twenty years younger than him though, and Nott mostly kept her hidden away at home 'cause he was afraid someone might try and steal her. Or maybe he thought she'd run away.
"Narcissa told me last summer she knew Emilia when their boys were little, but then Emilia sort of … disappeared. Years went by and Nott started bringing Theo along to his business dealings with Lucius, so Theo and Draco knew each other when they were seven or eight. At Hogwarts they weren't always close – I reckon 'cause they were so different. Theo always had his nose stuck in a book, and Draco wanted to waltz around and be Prince of Slytherin."
"I remember not even noticing Theo at Hogwarts," Harry said. "He wasn't much like a typical Slytherin."
"I have it on good authority that he pleaded with the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin because dear old dad might've blown him to bits if he was put anywhere else," Blaise said bitterly. "I didn't know him well when we were first at school either, but the whole dorm noticed pretty quick he'd never change clothes in front of anybody. Draco told me when they were kids Theo always wore long sleeves and a high collar, even in the middle of summer. Then Draco stole Theo's book one day to mess with him, and when Theo wrestled him to get it back, his robes slipped. Draco saw his arms covered in half-healed gashes and bruises all around his neck."
Harry's eyes went wide, and Ron's jaw dropped.
"Yeah, that's about the face I made when Draco told me. Maybe 'cause the old man wasn't such a good wizard, he didn't always use curses on Theo; he'd beat him with his cane or string him up in a room for a few days to teach him a lesson, and he wasn't allowed to learn healing magic. I think coming to Hogwarts was like escape from prison, but I reckon it kept going over the holidays. In second year, he came back to school with his arm burned all the way up to his elbow. We asked, but he always just said it was an accident.
"We knew his mother was dead, but he never talked about her 'til last summer. After the three of us got through our trials we were here, celebrating, and we started drinking. Theo's a total lightweight; I don't think he'd ever had a sip of whisky in his life. He started babbling nonsense and then he got angry."
At Ron's raised eyebrow, Blaise nodded and said, "Yeah, Theo got angry. We took his wand away, but he started smashing things and screaming … said he wished his father hadn't died so he could finish him off himself for what he did to 'her' – it took near an hour to coax the truth out of him. I dunno how much he remembered, but next morning he took off without a word and we didn't see him again 'til he showed up on the train."
Blaise took a breath before he kept speaking.
"It turned out Emilia wasn't actually a Selwyn; she was adopted from some nondescript half-blood family, and she was a Squib. Old man Nott hadn't noticed she didn't use magic because he wanted a docile, obedient housewife anyway. I guess the Selwyns assumed that he'd never find out the truth, or he'd fall in love with her and not mind … Well, he found out somehow that she tainted his pure bloodline, and he didn't just kill her and wipe her off the family tree. He burned out her wing of the Estate, he destroyed everything she ever owned, he torched every photo, and he hated Theo so much there was nothing the kid could do to please him. I'm pretty sure the only reason he let Theo live was because the old man never had a shot with a pure-blood witch to make a new heir. Theo was six."
Ron made choking sounds in lieu of forming words and Harry stared at his spoon. He didn't exactly have the happiest childhood with the Dursleys, but it certainly could've been worse.
"I figured out a while ago that Theo's a bookworm 'cause his father would ignore him as long as he was just sitting quietly and reading books," Blaise said bitterly. "He said once that his mother loved to read to him, and I guess it was the only thing the old man couldn't take away. I've been wondering why Hermione reads so much, and I'm kinda scared to ask her … I'm worried she's got some history like Theo's."
Harry answered quietly, "She reads because her parents loved reading. They were both doctors and they raised Hermione on books of science."
Ron nodded. "She hates anything she can't learn from a book. It's why she doesn't like Quidditch."
"No wonder she didn't want to be the Mage," Blaise mused. "You said her parents loved reading? Did they die? Is– is that why she never talks about them?"
"Before the war, Hermione was afraid the Death Eaters would go after her parents because she was so close to me," Harry said softly. "She Obliviated them and sent them out of the country. They're still alive, far as we know, but they don't know they have a daughter."
Blaise's arm landed on the table with a thunk. "But … isn't it reversible?"
"Even if it were, Hermione deliberately didn't find out exactly where they went," Harry answered. "She wanted them to be safe, even from her, in case she was tortured."
She sacrificed her family for her friends? Not for the first time, Blaise was blown away at the sheer strength of this witch and secretly wondered what exactly she needed him for.
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Hermione watched carefully as Theo fought. Perhaps the Light and Dark from the Legend of Draco allowed Theo to visualise the struggle within himself. He barely moved, but she could feel everything he faced …
For a moment she felt him flare as though in anger, and before she made a conscious decision, she felt herself reaching out to him.
Anger won't defeat evil.
Even though his eyes were closed she thought she could read on his face when he realised that she was there, supporting him.
I'm always here for you.
He once joked that she had five soulmates, but he'd had no idea how accurate he was. She could be across the globe, and she'd always feel him with her.
He accepted her help … and he defeated his enemy.
Hermione felt his hand relax in hers, and she let out a breath. She suddenly realised she felt exhausted, as though she'd run several laps around Hogwarts.
Theo breathed heavily, his heart racing, but when he opened his warm blue eyes, he'd never looked more peaceful.
Hermione reached up and gently tapped him on the nose.
"There's my wise old owl," she murmured with a small smile.
Theo thought his heart might expand to fill the whole room. For the first time in years, he could feel … he wrapped Hermione tightly in his arms as the memory of his mother's beautiful smile spun around in his mind, uninhibited.
Finally, he felt his tears start to flow.
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