There was a tempestuous air about Hogwarts.
It was evident in everything and everyone. Fellow students going about their days as if nothing was amiss. That everything over the summer hadn't happened. He couldn't take three strides without encountering it. Not that it surprised him in the least. One would have to be a blind fool not to notice it. Blind, or willingly ignorant of the truth, fools of which he had recently come to despise.
Theodore Nott was not amongst the Dark Lord's band of loyal slaves and sycophants.
But it seemed that near all of his classmates were. That annoyed him. Were they all so blind? When he looked around during Professor Slughorn's rambling introduction, he caught sight of so many people who seemed unable to see, and that posed a conflict. So many of them he counted among his list of friends. Situational they may be, but friends nevertheless, and for them all to be so ignorant bothered him for some reason.
Not that it truly mattered.
"Scowl any harder and you'll insight a row."
He glanced to once empty seat beside him. Daphne Greengrass sat with all the grace of a goddess. Refinement that bespoke of pure breeding and hours of sharp training. As elegant as the curls of her golden tresses and the shapely swell of her bust. Conservatively eye-catching. Deceptively innocent.
Without the stars shining light upon her features, she seemed less, her beauty choked by the classroom's haze of potions and unflattering lights.
"What do you want?" Theodore refrained from snapping at her. Draco Malfoy, the newly made Death Eater, and his ever-loyal Pansy Parkinson were opposite them at the table. What a shame that they were the only four Slytherins with grades good enough for N.E.W.T. level potions.
"Entertainment."
He nearly stood from his seat to seek out another. His patience knew many bounds, the gods were well accustomed to that fact, but Greengrass was hardly warranted any of it. Whether she was Aphrodite's envy or not. But he didn't wish to cause a scene. To draw unneeded attention like the way Potter and Weasley just did as they bumbled into the classroom late. He had a role to play until Greengrass fulfilled her end of the deal.
So, he deigned to respond.
"If you wish for entertainment then I suggest you sit with Parkinson." Theodore said, idly throwing a glance at the girl in question. She was fawning over Malfoy and neither of them seemed to have heard his words. It was truly a sight to behold. "I find it comical that she believes he will return her affections. You might as well."
She sniffed at that. "You're not wrong about that. Pansy is a riot. Though the fawning grew old rather quickly. But you are wrong about the reciprocal nature of their affections."
Something roiled in Theodore's stomach. Twisting cords of hot steel. An undulating mass of muscles and emotions which he dutifully ignored with nary an outward tell. He wouldn't satisfy Greengrass that way. To reveal a weakness, however moot the point was, when she held what he needed.
"Oh? Color me impressed at your skills of deduction."
The retort was on the edge of her tongue. He could positively see it. But Professor Slughorn had finally finished his introductions and initiated the first lesson of the day. Greengrass turned her attention to the fat potion master while Theodore listened to the general gist with one ear. It didn't really matter to him if he was able to pass this N.E.W.T. class or not. If everything went right, if Greengrass upheld her end of the deal, then he would be on a different continent by the start of seventh year.
I will not submit myself to a man who would brand me like a slave.
He was just starting to question whether or not Slughorn was any good at potions when he heard something very intriguing.
"-a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis." said Slughorn with an indulgent smile. His eyes swept over all of them, past Theodore's three fellow Slytherins as well as the four Ravenclaws, and landed right on the Mudblood. "I take it that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
Theodore idly listened to the reply of Harry Potter's pet Mudblood. For all her faults, she was undeniably smart, and positively mad or stupidly loyal. She had been among those who had participated in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries as the Daily Prophet was calling it. Part of a group of fools – or were they heroes? – who had defeated Death Eaters like his own father. In some backwards and convoluted way, Theodore felt that he had to offer his thanks to Granger, for she helped him see the stark reality of his situation.
Of the madness that surrounded him.
He perked up at the mention of the competition. A chance to win a vial of Felix Felicis? The man didn't need to say anything more. Liquid Luck as it was more commonly referred to was something too good to simply pass up. Twelve hours of luckiness in anything he attempted. It would certainly prove useful when Greengrass came through with that international portkey and he was able to actually start living.
"Merlin's beard." Malfoy hissed from across the table.
Theodore spared the Death Eater a glance. He was struggling along with everyone else. Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion-Making proved to be a wholly inadequate text. The instructions did not make align with the desired descriptions of what the Draught of Living Death should look like.
It was halfway through his own potion that he realized that the attempt was futile. His potion was purple when it should have been light lilac shade. The very next step he followed proved equally as worthless. Not bringing out the desired color nor smell.
The only heartening fact was that no one else seemed to be progressing along any better. Greengrass looked to be slowly coming upon the realization that their reading material was faulty. Those supple pink lips set into a thin line of distaste. Malfoy wasn't proving any better. His attempt to butter up Slughorn with the mention of his grandfather proving useless as was his skills at potion brewing. Even Parkinson, who was normally very good at potions, had already given up.
She had vanished the contents of her cauldron and was instead inspecting her cuticles.
"This is ridiculous." Theodore muttered as he vanished the contents of cauldron. He blamed the insufficient instructions for his failure. Clearly Libatius was an idiot.
"I can't help but agree." Greengrass said. She seemed unbothered at the way her potion had taken the coloring of marble. Not at all like what the instructions said it should look like. "But then again, it seems like Potter is doing quite well in his own brewing."
Theodore followed her gaze and found Potter across the room. The bespectacled Gryffindor student was stirring his cauldron while consulting his textbook. His potion seemed to be the exact shade of color that it was supposed to be. Perfectly alike in fact.
A flash of annoyance shot through him at the sight.
And it was no surprise that by the end of class it was Harry Potter who was the one to win. Slughorn lavished praise over Potter's potion. Complementing on the fact that he must have inherited his skills of potion brewing from his Mudblood mother. As if potion brewing was an inheritable trait to begin with.
He could only watch as Potter slipped the vial of Felix Felicis into his pocket.
"Funny, is it not?" Greengrass idly said. Theodore refrained from glaring at her. Why did she suddenly find the need to annoy him? They had agreed to an exchange of services, a portkey for a life debt, not friendship.
"I haven't a clue as to what you're referring to." Theodore said as he packed away his brewing kit. He ignored the way Apollo's favorite smirked at him. Noted Potter leaving the classroom with Weasley and the Mudblood by the corner of his eye. Heard more than saw Malfoy complain to Parkinson.
A plan started to sketch itself in the recesses of his mind.
"You know, you do this funny thing with your mouth." Greengrass said as Theodore closed his bag. He hefted it over his shoulder and made towards the door. She fell into step next to him. "Your mouth moves but nothing of substance comes out. All I'm hearing are empty words."
"Maybe you should get your ears checked. I once read that shrill, loud, and overbearing noises can damage them."
Potter was never alone, right? He always had either Weasley or the Mudblood with him. Either of them, or the Weasley girl. They were always with him. That would prove a problem.
"Yet you still love to listen to my dulcet tones." Greengrass smirked at him. Then she turned her attention down the hall to where Tracey Davis was rapidly advancing on them.
A part of him mourned for the loss of attention.
"Daphne! Nott." Davis was all rainbows and sunshine for Greengrass. Not so much for him. He didn't much care.
I'd rather have Greengrass' smile upon me then your muddied lips quirkin-
"Davis." Theodore said curtly and then took his leave. He didn't offer anything to Greengrass, though that didn't seem to bother her, and he felt her gaze on his back as he made for the Great Hall.
Not that it mattered. In the end all that she had to do was get her father to provide him with that international portkey so that he could escape Great Britain and the war that was quickly consuming it. The fact that he suddenly found her easy on the eyes was of no consequence. She was simply a means to an end. Nothing more.
He pushed all thought of her out of his mind when he caught sight of Potter and his sycophants. That plan started to take more solidly a shape. Felix Felicis. Liquid Luck. Why should Potter of all people have it? Theodore was the one who could make better use of it.
The decision was surprisingly easy to come to. He didn't care for the consequences because why would he? He didn't plan to be in Great Britain in a year's time anyhow. It was quite simple really.
Theodore would steal the vial of Felix Felicis from Potter.