AN: Hello all - it's a Wednesday and my upload is late. Lots of things happened to have it be late but nevertheless, it's here!

Hope you enjoy it. It's still in the decompression stage.


Chapter 33: Then somebody bends, unexpectedly


The study was warm; the fire had been lit in preparation for Theo's return. The train was scheduled to arrive at Kings Cross at 5.30, so they had plenty of time before they needed to collect him. But Theo liked the study to be warm and cosy so that he could tell his grandfather all about the things he'd learnt that year.

Nariyah wasn't sure how much of that tradition would keep though, because this year Riddle was still in the house. And now there was a threat of Lysander's Vow looming over the boy's head. Not that he would ever know. Not if she could help it.

"Will you leave now?" Lysander asked her.

He sat in his armchair with his head hung low. Grey hair falling into his face and covering his eyes, which she was sure were downcast and pitiful.

Fire crackled and popped in the silence.

She didn't look at him to begin with. She stood in front of the flames and used the fire to try and collect herself. It was amazing how quickly her apathetic attitude was pushed aside when Theo's freedom hung in the balance.

To some extent, Nariyah felt obligated to help Lysander as well. He had helped her time and again after all, but the moment he'd bargained with a child's life - her favourite child - Nariyah had lost pity for him.

"How could I?" she answered, finally. "Someone has to protect him."

"Why do you even care?" Lysander spat out at her attack.

"Why shouldn't I?"

Theo was a good kid. Smart, curious and could grow to be formidable in his own right. He'd been tiny the first time he'd run out behind his grandfather's legs and asked her why she was in his house. He'd peppered her with questions and she'd given as many answers as she could - some of them not the most appropriate for a seven-year-old.

She'd been a baby then too.

But Theo took those answers like a champ and came back with more. He researched as best as he could on what he didn't understand, and the next time she'd worked with Lysander, Theo came scrambling in to show her his work.

He'd wormed his way into her heart one sharp nod and reciprocating question at a time.

"I won't let Tom have him." Lysander rose as he spoke and the words were the first firm-sounding ones she'd heard all week.

But she wasn't going to back down so easily. "Your promises are empty when one stray spell can kill you. One too many days without sleep. One potion or rune done wrong. And if you die, Riddle gets Theo."

"I won't let him," he repeated.

Nariyah turned, letting the fire warm her back. Lysander looked a little mad; his robes were askew and his hair was greasy from days of working in solitude on whatever Riddle had him doing. He was pale and ashy, made worse by the contrasting tones of the fire, and his eyes were glinting with unshed tears.

All she could wonder was how much longer he'd be able to cope before something broke.

"I won't let you," she promised.

A clock struck 5, chiming through the room and cutting through the pressured atmosphere. It was time to collect Theo.

"I suppose you should go now. You don't want to leave him waiting," Nariyah said.

"You won't tell him." It was an order. She could have laughed. "Theo can't know of this," he repeated. "I know my grandson. I know that he'll worry until it becomes detrimental."

He said it as if that wasn't the natural response to hearing you had been enslaved upon your grandfather's death!

"Don't worry," she said. "I wouldn't want to rob you of that responsibility."

His hand clenched in anger as he walked past her and out of the room - though his anger could only be blamed on himself. Who had asked him to bargain with Theo's life? Who had asked him to bring Riddle into his home?

Now Nariyah would need to stay.

A pulse of anger flooded her system and before she knew it, she felt a sharp pain at her knuckle. She'd punched the smooth marble of the fireplace. Not enough to break the skin, but she didn't do physical violence, and she hadn't trained her muscles to take that impact for a long time.

Nariyah hissed and cradled the throbbing hand to her chest. The heat did nothing to soothe it, but the pain did bring some level of clarity.

She hadn't wanted to stay.

This, what Lysander had pulled her into, had been fun up until it wasn't. When she had gone to that fight with the Flamels, Nariyah had come just a little too close to permanently not waking up, and she didn't want that.

In any other job, she would be done now. She'd got them the stone - Riddle was happy and Lysander had paid her. But this time…she couldn't.

Theo wouldn't leave Lysander, and she couldn't kidnap the kid without it raising an awful lot of questions back home. And even if she tried, she knew Riddle would bring him back. All the better to control you with, my dear.

If she stayed…if she stayed Riddle would use her just like he did Lysander.

And she would succumb to it - to the power that sparked off of him - like she always did.

Something that tasted like fear gripped the back of her throat in a tight hold and she suddenly couldn't swallow. For the first time in a very long time, Nariyah felt like she was out of her depth and she didn't know who she could go to.

The realisation sunk into her, and she felt her legs shake underneath her. It was a daunting feeling, and with so little room to manoeuvre without leaving Theo to fend for himself, Nariyah began to feel numb.

She needed…she needed to go home. Or she needed her brother. Ilyas could help. He would know what to do.

Nariyah called for Fila and the House Elf popped into the room. "Tell Lysander I've gone home for a few days. Tell him I'll be back within a week and…watch out for Theo."

"Always, Miss," Fila said.


She Flooed directly into his apartment where she was met with a half-naked man on top of her brother. "Sorry to interrupt -"

The man shouted in alarm as he turned to look at her. There was an angry look in his eye, and he began cursing her out in French, which she ignored.

"I need help."

Ilyas looked frustrated, but the minute he looked closer at her, he pushed the man off. "Sors d'ici," he ordered, and the man looked startled. But quickly he picked up his discarded shirt and pants and left. Ilyas put his own shirt back on, standing up quickly. "What's wrong?"

"I…I got too in over my head," she said quietly.

It barely took a moment before Ilyas' arms were wrapping around her. Nariyah was taken back to when Ilyas would help her finish her tutoring, or put ointment on her bruises from combat training or horse riding falls.

She threw her arms around him and squeezed back as tightly as she could. As if his arms could keep her safe like they used to.

They stayed there for a minute, Ilyas stroking the top of her head and Nariyah just…centring herself again. When she was ready to, she pulled away from him. The sudden loss of his body heat made her shiver slightly.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Do you remember the last time I called?"

"You were pretty vague."

"Yeah, well…" She stopped for a minute, trying to gauge how much she should tell him. How much she could tell him. Between figuring out that Tom Riddle had been Voldemort's real name, and realising that he had two souls, to him getting the Philosopher's Stone, there were a lot of factors at play that - even with her natural Occlumency due to her gift - Riddle would probably be able to force it out of her if she gave him a reason to pry.

But Ilyas couldn't help her if he didn't have most of the information.

"There's something changing in Britain. Someone - a man named Riddle - has managed to get a hold of a Philosopher's Stone -"

"That's real?" Ilyas asked, narrowing his brows. "Not just some urban legend?"

She shook her head. "It's real. And he's got it. And it's made him pretty powerful, but I don't think he's all that sane."

"And you've got caught up in him?" She bit her lip and Ilyas looked so disappointed. "Oh N, why don't you just leave now?"

"Because - because Lysander's gotten Theo involved and I can't leave the kid to suffer because of his stupid mistakes."

She knew none of that meant much to her brother. She'd never spoken about Theo or Lysander, but when Daughers took someone under their wing, an unspoken acknowledgement was understood; they were worth something valuable.

And Theo was worth her affection.

"Fine. What do you know so far?"

"Enough," she said.

Ilyas nodded, reaching for his discarded shirt and pulling it over his head. "Good. You're sitting on a landmine of information already, just with the knowledge he has the Stone. And you've given me a name - I can start digging into this guy."

Whether or not that was a good idea, she was just happy that she didn't need to figure this out all by herself. But then Ilyas turned back to her.

"Does the family need to pick a side?" he asked.

Nariyah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes."

Ilyas frowned.

In some other world, maybe she would be able to tell him that she was the only one that needed to pick a side. But the Daughers didn't run in that world. Political disputes were backed by all or by none, and her parents had let them know, emphatically, that their name and their reputation rested in the hands of the children.

So the Daughers needed to pick a side. And she would need to pick it for them

"What have you decided?" he asked.

"I - I don't have enough information yet. He's an old name - he could have backing but…"

He was ruthless and dangerous, and Riddle was definitely an immediate threat. But would he be a long-standing one? Would it be worth it to align herself with him, or would it lead them to ruin?

She didn't want to tell Ilyas that she didn't know. That she didn't feel confident enough in her abilities to pick one. But he could see it on her face. He was much better at picking up on her tells than she liked to admit.

"Fine. Just play along with him as much as you can for now - but don't give too much. You're only there for the kid, and you're in a good position for now. Give me what you can, when you can, and I'll begin the process of creating allies in the UK. Do the Goblins have as much sway over British gold as they're rumoured to?"

Nariyah nodded.

"Well then, a few investments here and there will go a long way towards holding power whichever way this goes."

Ilyas looked over her and towards the desk where a notepad and his wand were lying. He marched over, and in quick succession started noting down whatever thoughts were going through his head. He was about to map out as many variables as he could.

"We'll need to tell Dad," he said, still writing in his notebook.

"Don't tell Dad."

"We have to."

"He'll get too involved."

Ilyas stopped writing and looked up. It was the first time she'd seen worry on his face all evening and it punched at her. "Better he gets involved than it blindsides him. We'll need him to access the resources anyway."

She pursed her lips, trying hard not to say anything. Her dad would start in on her for messing about. For not taking things seriously. For being a disappointment to the Daugher name. And she would have to sit there and take it knowing that he was right.

"Fine."

"Don't worry about him," he said.

Ilyas' reassurance did very little. She would be able to see the disappointment in her dad's eyes anytime he answered her questions. She'd always been able to see it.

Ilyas' gift was seeing outcomes. Adina's was empathy - for all the good it did her. And Maat retained knowledge. Out of all of her siblings, her dad had disliked her gift the most because there was very little recourse for privacy.

She used it as little as she could around him because he made his displeasure abundantly clear. She was only useful to gather information, and when she stopped coming home - when she started doing things on her own - her use waned.

"I'll handle dad," Ilyas promised. Nariyah just nodded and began making herself ready for a new round of displeased, passive aggressive attacks.

Her dad truly was a joy to be around.


13th June 1994

Stepping off the Hogwarts Express, Theo looked around for his grandfather. He would always collect him from the station, no matter how busy or engrossed in his research he got. It was one of the things Theo loved about him - though he would never mention it to any of his peers. It was embarrassing enough to acknowledge that little zap of joy each time he saw his grandfather's wrinkled smile.

His bags were brought to his side as they always were, and Theo picked them up. It was odd that he couldn't see his grandfather anywhere, but it also wasn't too unusual for the man to run late.

Malfoy brushed past Theo's shoulder in an effort to get to his parents. "Watch it, Nott," he said, barely looking behind him.

Theo ignored the twat. The only reason he put up with Malfoy was because they shared a room, and it was easier to ignore him than have to engage in the peacocking.

Zambini walked to his other side and gave a little snort. "Never seen a bigger momma's boy."

"Some would say the same about you," Theo responded.

Frustration flashed over his face for a split second before Zabini broke out into a handsome grin. "There's a difference between indulgence and healthy appreciation, wouldn't you say, Nott?"

Is that a dig? Theo couldn't tell, and Zabini wouldn't tell him either. Not when there was a man standing ten feet away that was waving him over. Was that another step-father, or merely a caretaker? Theo hadn't bothered paying attention to who had dropped Zabini off over the last few years to know.

It didn't matter though, because Theo heard his grandfather's voice calling his name.

He looked in the direction of the sound, but he couldn't see him. Theo squinted harder and looked from left to right, scanning the groups of people for his grandfather.

There was so much movement that he barely noticed when the old man started walking up to him until he was right in front of him. "Excuse me," he muttered.

"Theo?" That was his grandfather's voice again.

He looked up. His grandfather was standing in front of him with a tired smile, but Theo's brain wasn't processing the information. The man in front of him looked old - older than he remembered seeing his grandfather. Rounded shoulders, bags under his dull, tired eyes, and significantly more grey hairs than he'd had before.

He stood in front of him, looking defeated. Looking old. Nothing like the man who held himself with the air of someone who knew their worth.

But it was his grandfather.

What had happened to him?!

"Shall we leave, then?" his grandfather asked. "Fila has all your favourites waiting for you. Lemon meringue, roast duck, those odd Muggle sweets you insist we buy -"

"Bon bons," he muttered slowly. "Grandfather -" he stopped himself short. The station wasn't as busy as when he'd first stepped off the train, but there were still a lot of people within earshot of them. His grandfather would disapprove of him asking any probing questions in such a public place, and Theo had a feeling it had something to do with Mr Nymous.

So he asked another question instead. "Is Nariyah still at the manor?"

It was somehow still the wrong thing to say. His grandfather's nostrils flared for a second before he relaxed his face. "No. She's gone to stay with family for a week or two. But she'll be back."

Theo nodded. Something had happened between them then. Maybe…maybe it wasn't Mr Nymous. Maybe they'd gotten into some sort of fight - or Nariyah had learnt something his grandfather didn't want her knowing. She was a difficult person to be around for too long.

But his gut was telling him that wasn't the case. Especially because his grandfather had focused on something behind them, and when Theo turned to look, the only few people in the surrounding area were Potter, Greengrass and Parkinson getting off the train.

Confused, Theo turned to look at his grandfather again. He was still watching the three of them, but Theo's movement broke the stare.

"Shall we go, then?"

Theo looked up at the tired face for a fraction of a second too long.

"Did you want to speak to any of your peers?" his grandfather asked.

"No. Let's go."

A weak smile answered him, and they turned to head towards the Floo Gate.

They waited in line for their turn. Theo watched as their money exchanged hands with the grubby squib who operated the Gate, and then he stepped into the fireplace. He always went first; his grandfather didn't like leaving him with the squib because you never knew what a desperate squib would do.

He called out the name of the manor, and then he was engulfed in green flames. Theo skidded out the other side of the flames with a tiny patch of soot on his suitcase, and he frowned, wiping it away. The slight decline in the station fireplace always meant that he was a little unbalanced when he came out of his, and there was always a little stumble.

One of the Elves was waiting for him with an outstretched hand and a watery smile. "Master Theodore is home. Master Theodore is being requested by Mr Nymous. He is to come to him as soon as he arrives."

Theo looked behind him, half expecting to see his grandfather walk out of the fireplace. But he wasn't there. Theo frowned. What was holding him up? "Is my grandfather ok?" he asked the elf.

There was an immediate shift in the Elf's personality. Her eyes began shifting to and fro, and she was wringing her long fingers together in dismay. Someone had told her to stay quiet about things then.

"Don't hurt yourself over it," he said quickly. He was never a big fan of making Elves punish themselves, no matter how funny Malfoy made it out to be. It seemed cruel to do if he could help it. "What can you tell me?"

"Mr Nymous is waiting for Master Theo."

He narrowed his eyes. That was very pointed. "Is that what's wrong with grandfather?" he asked.

She shook her head, her ears flopping about violently. "Master Lysander is very stressed. But Mr Nymous be waiting for you."

Something had happened over the year then.

Theo remembered Potter's warning. That Mr Nymous wasn't to be trusted - and he knew that was true. He wasn't an idiot. The man was living in their manor, rent-free, so to speak, and Theo had noticed how his grandfather had been deferring to him over the holidays. Subtly, but still.

It was partly why he had freaked out a little at the table when that First Year had asked who would take care of the Slytherins now that Snape was gone. As embarrassing as it had been, Theo knew the question had triggered something in him.

Where most of his life had been measured and certain, where big and small things were just problems to systematically work through with the adults he trusted, those adults were slowly crumbling away. Things were changing, and he had reacted badly to it.

"Master Theodore should go now," the Elf squeaked. "Mr Nymous be in his room."

His grandfather still hadn't come through the fireplace, but Theo knew better than to keep My Nymous waiting. Especially now that the Elf had all but said this was the reason his grandfather looked so old.

So he walked to the West Wing. He'd never come to this area of the manor much. Nothing was there but bad memories of his mother dying. Maybe that was why Mr Nymous had been placed there. To keep Theo away from him.

But now he was walking straight to it.

When he got to the solid oak door, he knocked on it heavily. The wood hurt his knuckles, but Theo waited patiently until he was told to come in.

He'd never expected to see the inside of Mr Nymous' room, and he'd never imagined it past the regular decor that was in most of the rooms. But somehow this was not what he had pictured.

The room had an organised chaotic energy to it. Papers lay on the desk, strewn about. There were two or three quills that had broken nubs sitting on the side of the desk neatly, in direct contrast to the rest of it.

Really, that was the only messy thing about the room. The rest of it was tidied. And yet, he still could feel that chaotic energy. Theo wondered if it was all just coming from the man himself. Trewlawlny had talked about people's energies or aura more than once in her lessons.

Mr Nymous was standing with his back to Theo, but he turned to greet him soon enough. He smiled at him, but Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to the sling over his shoulder than held his right arm.

"Ahh yes. Quite a nuisance, this." Mr Nymous motioned to the arm. "It'll be dealt with soon enough though."

Theo fought the childish urge to ask what had happened. That wasn't going to help him at all. Instead, he just stayed quiet, waiting for Mr Nymous to talk again.

"How has your year been?" he finally asked.

"It…it was fine, sir. I expect I'll get mostly Os on my scores this year."

"Very good. I'm sure your grandfather will be proud."

Theo nodded. "I hope so."

"I asked for you mainly because I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you've done over the year. I know it couldn't have been easy monitoring Miss Potter - she's quite a wild card."

Theo was suddenly aware that he had left most of this sort of talk to his grandfather at their parties. He relied on his ques and his words too much, and now Theo didn't know what to do.

He swallowed. "Thank you, sir." There. That was safe enough, wasn't it?

Mr Nymous smiled a charming smile, but this time he showed too much of his teeth. It reminded Theo of a storybook about a gryphon luring in a young witch to her doom. The smile painted in the book had shown too many teeth, making him very uncomfortable when he was a child.

"Was there anything that you wanted to ask me? It's a strange request to have made of you," Mr Nymous asked.

"No, sir. I…" He didn't know if he should say anything else or not, but Mr Nymous was looking down at him with a piercing gaze. It left Theo feeling tight in his own skin. "She…she knows I've been watching her."

"I expect she does."

"I hope that's not…"

"Not at all," he said. "It was to be expected. What did she tell you about me? That I shouldn't be trusted? That I was someone to mind?"

Theo nodded.

Mr Nymous chuckled. One hand went into his trouser pocket and seemed to make a fist, making the pocket bulge. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. At least, no more than the healthy Slytherin amount. But you have done a good job Theo. I know your birthday is coming up soon. Do you have any plans for it?"

"Just the usual, sir. Close friends and my grandfather."

"But it is your fourteenth, no?"

"Grandfather is quite a private man. He's not a fan of parties - and neither am I."

Mr Nymous nodded. "Understandable. But it's important to welcome the first stages of your adulthood with the respect it deserves. You'll only have those training wheels for a little longer."

Theo once again found himself not sure that to say, so instead, he changed the subject to something that was a little more comfortable to talk about. Information. "I have - there's something you may want to know. It's not to do with Potter, but…" Theo wasn't sure why it would be relevant, but it was better to share a little more now, than too little. And…it sort of had something to do with Potter. With all of them.

"Yes?"

"Well…our Head of Year, Professor Snape, he was injured at the end of the year. The headmaster said it was possible he wouldn't come back. Potter seemed to act strange about it - like she was guilty or something."

Mr Nymous hummed. "Well, thank you for that Theo. It was very helpful. I'll make sure to get you something for your birthday."

"You don't have to -"

"I insist," Mr Nymous said. "I've been a guest in your home for a long time. It's the least I can do. Is there anything you would like in particular?"

"No sir," Theo said.

"Well, in that case I'll have to ask your grandfather."

Mr Nymous smiled at Theo. It was a nice smile, a charming one, and Theo could see how people had so easily thought they were related. Though…why they would need to think that was another thing he'd have to ask his grandfather.

"You should go and start your summer now, Theo."

He nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Theo left the room not really knowing what had just happened. Nothing had shifted all that much - he still was frustrated with his grandfather, and was still somewhat suspicious of Mr Nymous - but he wasn't too sure why Potter was so up in arms about the man. Anyone was dangerous if they were exposed to the right situation, but Mr Nymous hadn't seemed to do much of anything while he was at the manor.

Still, it was better to be overly cautious if there were so many signs of unease. So Theo went to his room and put his head down. If nothing else, he would need to prepare for Fourth Year. It was well known that there was a shift in Slytherin dynamics, but no one would say what.

He needed to prepare for whatever was coming.


AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Reminder, this is the second to last chapter to the end of Third Year. After the next chapter, I'll be taking a 1-2 month hiatus to have a break and write out a good amount of Fourth Year (fingers crossed)

With that being said, see you in a couple of weeks for the last chapter of Third Year. Eeepp!