The Time For Silence

Characters and main events leading to this story belong to JK Rowling.

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5.

A rushing sound filled the dining hall and Theo stiffened, as a hundred owls swooped down onto the tables. Every morning Theo stiffened: this could be the morning he got The Letter. The morning he would be alone in the world. Not that Theo wasn't used to being alone. He even liked it. But what he had now was uncomplete aloneness, the sort of aloneness where you had a father who cared for you in a distracted way and enquired about school marks. Theo always had good marks.

The object of Theo's dread hit him on the head. Greg didn't snigger, which was a mark of how much things had changed.

Draco shot a wary look in Theo's direction, while tearing his mother's parcel apart. Madam Malfoy still sent sweets to her ex-Death Eater son. Actually, she sent more than she ever had, meaning them to be shared at the Slytherin table. Draco pushed the package towards the first years, one eye on Theo.

The letter, as all his letters, bore the black seal of Azkaban Post. Theo opened it with trembling fingers and heaved a sigh of relief. It was a tiny piece of parchment on which a few lines had been weakly scrawled.

"Dear Theodore,

I hope you are well.

I am unwell, yet still alive.

Keep on studying. Think of your future and the future of the house of Nott.

Write to me, your letters are my sole comfort.

Your loving Father."

Theo gave the letter a quick glance. He didn't need to read it. The words were always the same. He just needed to look at the state of the handwriting. He rolled the parchment carefully and tucked it into his robes.

Father was still alive.

For how long?

Draco looked hurriedly away. When you're rich, you get out of everything, even Azkaban. Theo was beyond bitterness. He hadn't expected things to be different. Once more, the Malfoys had wormed their way out, thanks to their gold, and Madam Malfoy's so-called heroic behaviour. Theo preferred to call it quick thinking. Madam Malfoy was not unintelligent and she was, after all, a Slytherin.

Draco got up, abandoning the package of sweets on the table. All followed him out of habit, including Theo.

"Theodore Nott!"

Professor Slughorn was puffing his way to the Slytherin table. He reached out for a handful of sweets, looked at them and offered them to Theo. Theo shook his head.

"They're the best, you know..." said Professor Slughorn, putting them in his pocket. "Don't forget your appointment with Professor Snape tonight. I will take you to the gargoyle and Professor McGonagall will let you in."

"Thank you, sir."

Theo's voice was expressionless.

"Theodore Nott", indeed. As if Theo hadn't known his Head of house as "Uncle Horace" in the days when Alfred Nott and Horace Slughorn were the best of friends. No one could be trusted, thought Theo bitterly, and there was no appealing to Professor Slughorn's memory. It was too selective. Professor Snape, on the other hand...

Professor Snape had always liked Theo, in the way he liked his students, which consisted in being demanding, yet supportive, expecting only the best, but offering the means to attain it: a book, a few words of advice between his teeth, extra coaching presented as detention. Even Milly had been grateful for her Remedial Potions.

When Lucius Malfoy, Alfred Nott and Crabbe Senior, whatever his name was, had been arrested at the Ministry, Professor Snape had immediately written to Madam Malfoy, asking her to take Theo in. Snape could be trusted not to let you down, even if your father was in Azkaban.

Now of course, Snape was dead and there wasn't much his portrait could do, but at least he would listen and care, which was more than most people did.

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"Good evening, Nott," said Professor McGonagall, looking sorry for him.

"Good evening, Professor,' said Theo, as coldly as he dared. He didn't want her pity.

"I'll leave you with Professor Snape," she said, still looking sorry.

Theo said nothing. She walked out.

"Theodore Nott, the best student in Slytherin," remarked a portrait whom Theo recognised as Phineas Nigellus Black.

"Thank you, sir."

"Theodore," said Snape.

Theo whirled around.

"Do you have news from your father?"

"A letter, this morning."

Theo put his hand to his pocket, then realised he couldn't give the letter to Professor Snape.

"If I show you, will you see it?"

"Bring it close."

Professor Snape peered at the letter, then looked at Theo.

"He's going to die, isn't he?" said Theo.

"Only strong people survive Azkaban. Your father has been through too much."

"There's nothing you can do, nobody you can talk to?"

"I am afraid Professor McGonagall cannot be asked. She has enough difficulties defending the students' interests."

"My interest is..." It seemed so pointless that Theo left his sentence unfinished.

"I know. I have used my privilege of 'hero'", he pronounced the word derisively, "to speak to the Headmistress, but that doesn't help."

"Not much use being a hero, then."

"Especially if you're dead."

"There's nothing we can do, is there?"

"Write to him. Write to him all the time. The dead hero will try and speak to as many people as wish to listen to him... not that many, once all is said and done. The Malfoys have asked to talk to me. Perhaps Madam Malfoy can have an influence. She has a certain talent for persuasion..."

Dumbledore appeared to be smirking. Theo hated him.

"What's it like, to die?"

"I couldn't tell you, I am only a portrait."

"Harry Potter could," said Dumbledore.

"Please, Dumbledore, haven't we agreed I am in charge of the Slytherin students?"

"I am only trying to help."

"I don't want to talk to Harry Potter," said Theo. "I've never had anything to say to him and I haven't now... It's better if Father dies quick, isn't it?"

"Indeed, if we cannot have him freed. I have mentioned his state of health to Professor McGonagall..."

"She doesn't care."

"He was a Death Eater. Death Eaters killed members of Professor McGonagall's family. Things are not simple."

"I know that. Well, thanks for trying."

Theo tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice and out of his head, never suspecting it was really in his heart. Theo didn't think of his heart much.

"You must go on living, Theodore."

"I am not going to commit suicide. I'm of age. I'll make a living somehow. I don't need much."

"You wanted to work in the Department of Mysteries."

"If they still let Death Eaters' children in. If not - I can do my own research. I'm not bothered by the Ministry. I wish Madam Pince would let me in the Restricted Section, though. No chance of that, is there?"

"That would be even harder than getting your father out of Azkaban. They don't trust you. I know you claimed at the trial that you went to the Dark Lord because you were worried about your father..."

"It was true."

"I know it was. And you know as I do that truth has many facets."

Snape's portrait sighed. It looked tired. Could portraits get tired? Theo's intellectual curiosity was aroused.

"What's it like to be a portrait?" he asked.

"Well, Theodore Nott," beamed Phineas Nigellus. "This is the first time I hear this question in my seventy-three years on this wall."

Snape was thoughtful.

"It's very much like being alive, yet your life is over. You cannot change anything any more. You watch the world through a screen and your interactions with it are very limited."

"It gets worse when you don't know anyone alive any more," added Phineas Nigellus, who was clearly enjoying this conversation, "though you sometimes get to meet your descendants. It gives one quite a perspective."

"This is one thing I have been spared," muttered Snape.

"Oh no, you haven't, Severus. Watching your students' students is very much like watching your children's children."

"My students' students..." repeated Snape.

Theo was struck with sudden understanding.

"Then we should teach. Someone in Slytherin should teach... But I could never... I am not good with people."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"What's funny?" asked Theo disrespectfully. The old Gryffindor"s interventions thoroughly annoyed him.

"Professor Dumbledore means I was no better", clarified Snape in an icy voice.

"You were good. I couldn't say the same of Slughorn."

Dumbledore put on his pained face.

"Try and be better," said Phineas Nigellus, who had taken a liking to this young Slytherin.

"Blaise was talking of teaching..."

"Blaise!" Snape looked happily surprised.

Dumbledore was less happy.

"I don't know," continued Theo. "Teaching's important, isn't it? Passing on Slytherin values. That's what Blaise was saying."

The perspective of spending his life facing classes of idiots was not a rejoicing one for Theo. But there would be compensations. He would be able to consult regularly with Professor Snape. And he would gain access to the Restricted Section.

"I'll think about it."

"You just need to fall in love," said Dumbledore.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yes. Love gives people the incentive to do the hardest things."

Theo looked completely blank.

"I don't know if I can do that either."

"Please, young man, don't encourage Dumbledore's underestimation of Slytherin," said Phineas Nigellus smugly.

.

Theo left the Headmistress' office perplexed. He had been presented with two unexpected options for his life and he wasn't sure which was the most difficult.

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The black seal of Azkaban Post was borrowed from 'In Which the Princess Rescues the Dragon', by Vera Rozalsky.

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