Nott's eyes moved cautiously as he examined Jonathan's kitchen for the first time in daylight, taking in the simple decorations that characterized this (admittedly quite bland) room. The walls were unadorned and a plain, roughly made wooden table rested in the middle of the room, two chairs currently positioned around it. No curtains were framing the large windows and no carpets or rugs rested upon the cold stone floor. There wasn't even a dishtowel in sight, nor many kitchen appliances, as though Jonathan hadn't yet spent enough time here to think of getting any.
The way the entire house was set up suggested – even after what must have surely been almost a year of inhabitation – that Jonathan had no true intention of making this house his home. Nott wanted to assume that this was because Jonathan expected Tom to leave this land abruptly at any time, but that didn't really explain why he wouldn't keep a comfortable design that could be packed away via magic in an emergency. Surely Voldemort wasn't going to leave too fast anyway, considering his house felt a lot more lived-in than this place…
As Nott's light eyes took in the details – or lack thereof – before him, he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander. If Jonathan didn't consider this place his home, Tom's house was probably a greater comfort to him, Nott thought. It was obvious that Jonathan hadn't slept here last night. The thought of Jonathan often being absent from this place had never crossed Nott's mind while he resided in the building that Tom had built as headquarters, but it was obvious now that Jonathan was often away. Lestrange might not have noticed Jonathan's absence, however…
Nott's attention was directed to the wizard who sat opposite him when Lestrange crossed his mind. Both he and Lestrange had been silent for minutes and it appeared as though Nott wasn't the only one who had become lost in thought in that time. Unlike how Nott had been a few seconds ago, however, Lestrange was staring down at his breakfast with a frown. He was evidently trying hard to remember something that he had forgotten.
Lestrange looked up to see Nott watching him. The determined expression that he had worn in his attempt to remember lost memories faded away. He smiled weakly, trying to brush away any concern Nott might have shown.
"It is odd, having such a prominent, continued sense of almost remembering things," Lestrange voiced, his drawling tone very able to hide a note of annoyance, as always. "It's much like attempting to remember a dream, except it could be years before I get the details right…"
Nott took a sip of coffee before saying, "Which is, arguably, the same for both dreams and lost memories."
Lestrange prodded what remained of his breakfast, looking down at his plate idly. "If that is the case, then I don't know which is less likely; regaining lost memories or attempting to remember aged dreams."
"The memories will probably come back to you, eventually," Nott commented, trying to brush away his friend's worry. "Even if it takes a while."
"Though I can't imagine there is much information I have to gain back. From what you describe, not much has changed in the past four months."
"Things have changed," Nott correcting Lestrange, "just not a lot, really. Besides for Jonathan returning home and a few fights going on here and there, nothing will be all that different until we actually fight Grindelwald's followers properly, I think."
"You mentioned last night that Tom spent the last few months training all of us more," Lestrange said. "He will doubtlessly be somewhat annoyed by the idea that I must learn everything a second time."
"Well, he didn't seem annoyed last night, when he brought us here," Nott pointed out. After a moment of evaluating this claim, however, he felt the need to contradict it. "Though, he's always been pretty good at pretending to be calm, just to make it worse when he actually shouts at us…"
"Or does worse than shouting," Lestrange added.
Yes, Nott thought, there was always that too.
"He might just be keeping us here to make sure no one else is alarmed if we get visibly hurt," Lestrange said quietly, sounding determinedly calm. "To punish us for one reason or another…"
"I don't think I'd be here if that were the case," Nott reasoned, "and that's a bit extreme, even for Voldemort. He wouldn't have made a secret of his anger."
"Ah, yes, he's 'Voldemort' now," Lestrange said lazily, perhaps to just assess this aloud for himself, "or Lord Voldemort, I heard a few people claim…"
"Where'd he get that name, do you think?" Nott wondered aloud.
"I don't know," Lestrange admitted. "We've known about the 'Voldemort' part for years, but I never once heard he was a 'Lord' before last night."
"Do you think he knew about these Knights of Walpurgis before? It would make sense, if 'Lord Voldemort' was some sort of reference we didn't know about."
"Don't ask me, you're the one who remembers the last four months." Nott wondered whether Lestrange gave this answer from lack of knowing or lack of caring… He'd be more willing to bet on the latter, in full honesty.
"I only found out about the Knights of Walpurgis last night, like you did," Nott said. "Neither of us has really questioned Tom's determination to use the name 'Voldemort', either."
"Touché…"
Lestrange smirked at his own response, but the use of French seemed to strike a thought, after a moment.
"Vol de mort…"
"'Flight of Death'," Nott said. "Though we've known that for years, now."
"The name probably has no connection to the Knights of Vall-pur… whatever it was."
"Walpurgis," Nott said, "and you're probably right about that."
"Walpurgis," Lestrange repeated quietly, not commenting on Nott's other words. "Vall-pour-gus…"
"I can't imagine how Jonathan must be taking this, though," Nott mentioned after a time. "Grindelwald's followers tortured him for about ten solid days, I can't exactly imagine him being pleased that some of the same wizards are now joining us."
"Why do you care how Jonathan will take it?" Lestrange asked lazily.
"I don't really," Nott said, unsure whether this was the truth or not, "but with the fact that Grindelwald killed his parents, I imagine he's pretty annoyed about this… Though then again, Tom doesn't seem to like Grindelwald's people much more, so they might have reached some sort of agreement here. Just for the Knights."
"Why does the thought of Jonathan's feelings strike you, though?" Lestrange pressed. "Jonathan is already favoured by Tom –"
"– Voldemort –"
"– so why should it bother us if Jonathan doesn't like the Knights? We are all the Knights of Walpurgis now, as Voldemort said. I don't know why Tom cares so much about him already, or why we should care at all."
Nott had to think of a response for a moment. He distracted himself with drinking more coffee.
He had been warned harshly last night to not even hint to the fact that Jonathan and Tom were dating, so he was going to do as Tom asked. He knew that Tom would happily go through with his threats if indeed Lestrange remembered about his secret with even the tiniest remark to encourage his memory. Nott wasn't going to risk pissing off Tom just to bring back memories that Lestrange probably wanted to forget anyway…
"Jonathan sort of became our friend in the last four months," Nott told Lestrange truthfully. He didn't elaborate.
Lestrange was visibly sceptical, as Nott had expected. He seemed close to asking 'why' above all else, but something stopped him from doing so – perhaps the knowledge that Nott could be offended if he was indeed friends with Jonathan now. He couldn't seem to find a decent response to this, so Nott decided to speak, to lessen Lestrange's curiosity.
"It's pretty good – and useful – for us to be friends with Jonathan," he said, trying to convince Lestrange that it wasn't all that bad. "He's managed to stop us getting in trouble with Tom quite a few times now, which was – and still is – a relief."
Nott understood that Lestrange had been jealous of Jonathan for the past few years, ever since Tom started paying more attention to John (… or Harry, or Richard, or whatever his real name was, Nott mused). Nott knew that he would be best off trying to make Lestrange approve of Jonathan, because if Lestrange continued to hate Tom's boyfriend without knowing the full story, Tom could very easily go against his previous promise to Jonathan – the promise that said he wouldn't hurt Nott and Lestrange, even for what they knew…
"Well, I suppose if it's more convenient I can't complain about Jonathan," Lestrange said slowly after a few minutes. He didn't sound sure of his own words.
"It's very convenient," Nott assured him. "He's a pretty good person, as well, once you get to know him."
"Where is he now, I wonder?"
There was a slight hesitation.
"He's probably just working with Tom, or something," Nott said, not fully believing his own words.
"At this hour?" Lestrange asked. His eyes were slits again.
"I think the both of them wake up pretty early…"
Lestrange scoffed. "Probably tries hard to impress Tom with his readiness to spend each hour of the day with him…"
Nott didn't doubt that. "I don't think he has much else to do, to be honest. He's sort of just here for Tom, it seems."
"Who isn't?" Lestrange asked.
Nott smiled, somehow not truly feeling happy while he did it. He could find no response to this, while the smile faded. He often regretted having to stay here in Albania, even if it meant he could learn the Dark Arts from perhaps the most talented Dark Wizards alive today. Nott knew he could have had a better life, perhaps, had he not chosen the Dark Arts above all else… but there was no way he could leave now…
He wondered how Lestrange would react to the idea of Jonathan and Tom being boyfriends. He very much hoped that Lestrange wouldn't remember about it, since he probably wouldn't have the same reaction as before… Nott didn't know what he would do if Lestrange couldn't accept the idea of homosexuality. He knew that Lestrange regretted knowing this information before, and he wouldn't be happy about knowing it again…
"Nott?" Lestrange began to ask slowly.
"Yes?"
"What if… what if I am to be lost with what is happening with my family back in England, due to my memories being erased?" he asked, appearing concerned.
Nott watched the other wizard for a minute. It was odd to see how affected Lestrange was at this idea… Normally Lestrange appeared nothing but bored or apathetic even when a possible problem arose. Lestrange didn't particularly like a large part of his family, moreover, so Nott was confused. After some thought Nott decided that Lestrange was probably only worried due to feeling uncomfortable about the whole idea of memory loss…
"You never mentioned anything particularly important happening with any of your family members," Nott told Lestrange, the both of them knowing that he would have heard of it if anything had happened. They had quite a few family connections. "Plus, you've kept all your letters to them, haven't you?"
Lestrange appeared relieved. "Ah, yes, there are always letters…"
Nott hoped secretly that none of these letters would trigger memories for Lestrange that Tom wouldn't approve of… though he didn't see how they could. He also hoped that Lestrange hadn't written to anyone about Tom and so on – but again he couldn't think why Lestrange would do that. He was paranoid already. This was going to be a stressing few weeks, Nott thought. He stared down at his half-eaten breakfast. He couldn't think when it would be safe to assume Lestrange wouldn't remember anything more…
"Are you alright?" Lestrange asked, his words interrupting Nott's thoughts.
Nott looked up sharply. He attempted to rearrange his expression into something less worried, surprised that Lestrange had asked. Cracking a meaningless smile he said, "I'm fine."
He didn't know whether Lestrange was convinced. Dark eyes watched Nott for a time, while Nott tried to appear what he thought could be normal and carefree. He felt as though he had to say something to change the subject, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He dropped his gaze to the dull table before him. He wished Lestrange would stop staring.
"You know, I'll probably remember everything within a few weeks," Lestrange said, as though he thought this would calm Nott. "As we both know, I was never very good at Memory Charms in general."
Nott only nodded to this, not knowing how else to react. He felt nervous hearing Lestrange say this. He hoped Lestrange wouldn't see he was uneasy. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the other wizard.
Whether or not Lestrange noticed anything odd, it appeared as though a new thought distracted him from caring about Nott's wellbeing, to Nott's relief.
"What sort of lessons do you think Tom has in mind for us?" Lestrange asked curiously, despite the fact that they had discussed this already last night.
Tom had informed them, upon leaving them in this house, that he wanted to teach them some sort of magic away from the others. He hadn't given any details about it, to no surprise, but Nott and Lestrange had a few theories about what he might be teaching them.
"I still don't know at all what he'd want to teach us," Nott admitted truthfully. "Even if he wanted to help you gain back your memories – which I doubt he really cares about – I don't see what use I'd be. I know I've been near you these last few months, but it wouldn't really make sense."
"Well, I hope he wants to re-teach us all the magic I forgot," Lestrange said, appearing to like that idea more.
"Again though, why would I be a part of that?" Nott questioned.
"I don't know," Lestrange continued, blatantly hopefully, "but he might just want you there to help me with the magic if he gets bored of it."
"Hmm, maybe," Nott responded.
It was certainly possible that Tom could want Nott here merely to help Lestrange learn the magic he had forgotten, though this still seemed a bit needless. When Nott thought about it, it seemed more likely that Tom might just want him here so he could stay with Lestrange all day, to be sure that if or when Lestrange remembered about Jonathan and Tom, for example, Nott would be able to do something about it. What Tom expected him to do, however, Nott couldn't guess.
"I hope it's the Dark Arts lessons," Lestrange said again, smiling as he said it.
Nott watched his smile, thinking about how happy it made everyone in his land when Dark Arts lessons were being held every day. Nott enjoyed the lessons along with everyone else, but there was a part of him that couldn't shake off a bad feeling about the Dark Arts, even to this day. The Arts were like a horrible addiction to him; an addiction that he wouldn't be able to stop now even if he felt he wanted to.
"Well, he might not stop teaching us the Dark Arts with the other Knights, even if he teaches us something else as well," Nott said indifferently. "The more lessons the better, I guess…"
Lestrange didn't respond to this immediately. He appeared confused. "You seem rather unenthusiastic, lately," he remarked.
Nott felt as though Lestrange wasn't one to talk, considering he rarely showed any signs of interest about anything. Rubbing his forehead with his palm, Nott wondered why he felt so frustrated about this question.
"I'm just tired," he responded to Lestrange, unsure whether he meant this or not.
Nott didn't look up to see Lestrange's reaction. He heard a faint "alright" from the other wizard before they fell into silence. They didn't have much to talk about past this. Nott was somewhat relieved…
Nott spent most of the day worrying about Lestrange, even if he took the time to write to his family and quite a few other people too (perhaps as a distraction, he later mused). Lestrange had been walking through the house restlessly, exploring all the rooms, looking in cupboard and drawers, and picking up books for the mere sake of it as though he wanted to invade Jonathan's personal space as much as he could while he had the chance. The idea made Nott smile a little, even if he did worry about what Jonathan would do if he found out someone had been searching his house…
Jonathan and Tom showed up at the house at around seven in the evening, after Nott and Lestrange had made themselves quite comfortable in Jonathan's living room. Jonathan had returned to stay, while Tom was only here to drop Jonathan off and to tell Nott and Lestrange that he expected to see them in the main meeting hall of their headquarters within fifteen minutes.
"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Nott could hear Tom asking Jonathan quietly at the front door, while he and Lestrange stood in the living room. Lestrange was listening too.
"I can't teach them Occlumency," Jonathan was saying. His voice was low and he sounded almost annoyed. "I don't know how to, even if I understand how Occlumency works. You'd be better at it."
"I still believe that you would be a fine teacher," Tom said, his voice indicating nothing but calmness. "But if you would prefer not to…"
Tom's voice faded away and Nott turned to Lestrange. The front door closed, suggesting that Tom left, but before either of the Knights could talk to each other, Jonathan entered the room. He appeared solemn, his tired green eyes not meeting anyone else's for a moment while he thought. Nott wondered whether the Knights of Walpurgis were making Jonathan so sombre, or whether he was just weary from the recent stress. It was hard to guess.
"If you need me, I'll be upstairs," Harry said shortly. He seemed to be trying hard to not sound monotonic. "I'll probably still be there when you return, but I might go back to Tom's house later on."
Nott nodded and Lestrange gave a faint comment of understanding.
Jonathan turned to leave after this, not saying a word more. The two Knights of Walpurgis stood for a moment, waiting for his footsteps to fade away.
"Tom doesn't seem to need much personal time anymore, I see," Lestrange said quietly.
"He's just busy working with Jonathan," Nott said. "He doesn't need much time alone."
"You'd still think he'd care for it," Lestrange muttered. "You'd think he'd want to be alone with us at some time – or at least just for these lessons…"
"I wonder what 'Occlumency' is," Nott commented, ignoring Lestrange. "Why would Tom want Jonathan to help with it?"
"I'm just glad Jonathan refused."
Nott wished Lestrange wouldn't say that. "You're supposed to be his friend."
"I don't see how," Lestrange said. "I can't imagine why I would want to be his friend at all."
Nott didn't even bother replying to this. He wanted to tell Lestrange that he should be less rude since they were staying in Jonathan's house, but he refrained from doing so. "Come on, we should get our cloaks…"
Fifteen minutes later, Nott and Lestrange were being escorted into a small room that wasn't generally used for practicing magic in as far as Nott knew. Nott couldn't imagine what sort of lessons Tom had in mind, especially as he viewed this location, which looked more like an office than a practice hall. Tom, however, seemed sure that this was the right place as he led them further in.
Once in the centre of the room, Nott and Lestrange looked back at Tom just in time to see him locking the door. This made Nott feel a little uneasy at first, but he still had his wand in his cloak pocket, so surely Tom wasn't planning on attacking either of them? Tom smiled at the two wizards before him just after this. Nott thought again about the wand in his pocket.
"There's no need to worry," Tom said quietly as he examined Nott and Lestrange. "I am not here to punish either of you."
Nott wondered what gave away their worry as he stood besides Lestrange. He didn't want to look away from Tom, somehow, because he knew Tom wasn't one to care whether or not one's back was turned before he cursed them.
"Now," Tom continued, "I'm sure you must be curious as to why I suggested we meet together tonight. Moreover, you must be curious as to why I choose such peculiar meeting location for what is surely going to be a series of magic lessons, as always…"
Tom began pacing the room in front of Nott and Lestrange, obviously not expecting a response. His dark, reddened eyes stared thoughtfully at the views before him. Not supposed that he must be thinking about how best to word his thoughts, so he didn't interrupt.
"For the last few months the both of you have been progressing satisfyingly with your work," Tom said softly, his pace slow and even. "You have, in fact, progressed so continuously in the last few years or so that I feel as though I should begin teaching you a few pieces of magic that I might, admittedly, regret teaching many of the other Knights…"
"But I've forgotten a lot of magic that you taught us in the last four months," Lestrange pointed out, confused. "How can you now think that both Nott and I need to learn more advanced magic?"
"What you've forgot will likely return, due to the magic being more instinctive," Tom addressed shortly. "What I wish to teach you has less to do with combat magic, what is more… Understand that the reason you are here is because a possible problem caught my attention recently. A problem that, in a short explanation, might affect not only your own safety, but my own ability to ensure that what we do here remains a secure secret…"
"What sort of problem is it?" Nott asked. He wondered whether Tom truly cared about their work being kept a secret, or whether he just wanted to hide his own secrets further.
"It would be difficult to explain…"
Neither Nott nor Lestrange pressed Tom for further explanation as he continued to pace the room. Nott still didn't have the faintest idea what this could be about.
"Have you ever wondered why," Tom began… but he stopped here. Taking a moment, he started again, turning to look at them as his pace slowed to a stop. "Have you ever felt the nagging suspicion that someone has, despite the absurdity of the claim, understood exactly what you were thinking or feeling, before you had even said a word about it?"
Nott and Lestrange were silent. Neither of them knew what to say. A smile crept upon Tom's face.
"Did you never once wondered why I demanded so harshly in our later years of Hogwarts that no one looked at Albus Dumbledore in the eyes?" Tom asked. "Did you never sit and contemplate why it was that I stopped telling you my plans at that school? Or why I was always able to spot a liar, even if I had no previous evidence to back up such a claim? And don't pin it all of my being mad, Lestrange, you know that's an invalid theory."
"I don't think you're mad," Lestrange said quickly.
Tom was not convinced. "It is obvious that you are lying, Lestrange. You mind is wide open."
Lestrange turned to glance at Nott quickly. He seemed discomforted at the situation while a dawning sense of realisation gripped both Nott and Lestrange.
Nott had to admit that even he thought Tom was a bit insane when he requested bizarre things such as that no one should look at Dumbledore in the eyes. It seemed even madder that Tom knew Lestrange thought this, especially since all of the other Slytherins had made sure to not voice their true opinions to Tom. If no one had told Tom about these opinions, Nott couldn't see how Tom knew about this. Unless…
It would make sense if there was an actual reason (beyond likely insanity) for why Tom neither trusted any Knight with information nor allowed them to spend much time near enemies such as Dumbledore. If Tom had feared Dumbledore's gaze for an actual reason, there were only a few possibilities…
"You don't mean to say," Nott began slowly, unsure about his own inquires, yet too determined about hearing an answer to care, "that you… er… can tell what people are thinking?"
Tom's smile refreshed. "That's exactly what I mean to say."
Nott could see out of the corner of his eye that Lestrange had turned to look at him, but he didn't glance back. His eyes were fixed on Tom, while he began to realise that this made sense… as absolutely insane as it sounded.
"You've got to be joking," Lestrange said.
"I'm not," Tom assured him. He didn't bother elaborating.
"How long have you been able to do this for?" Nott asked. His brow was furrowed as he tried to get his head around this.
"Since our mid years of Hogwarts," Tom responded simply.
"But…" Lestrange began. He couldn't seem to find the right words for a moment. "But surely this isn't allowed – surely people like Dumbledore can't be permitted to invade people's personal space like this?"
"Well, it isn't exactly legal… and I can assure you that Dumbledore makes a great secret of his Legilimency ability," Tom said. He sounded almost bitter about it. "It was a great number of years since meeting him before I began to realise that he knew more than normal people could possibly know… So I soon looked into it and learnt about Occlumency and Legilimency."
"What are Occlumency and Legilimency?" Nott asked, while Lestrange was silent with shock.
"Legilimency is, in short, the ability to read minds," Tom explained, "while Occlumency is the ability to prevent one's mind from being read."
"Are you saying you're going to teach us how to read minds?" Lestrange asked, seeming suddenly more interested.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Tom said. "At this moment I wish only to teach you Occlumency; the ability to shield your minds."
"But what use will that be?" Lestrange inquired. "If we could read minds it would be far more–"
"You need to learn how to shield your minds first," Tom interrupted. "You shouldn't get excited about the idea of reading minds until I am satisfied you can shield your thoughts."
A silent fell here. Lestrange appeared annoyed and confused, but Nott understood, suddenly, that this was probably to keep all of Tom's secrets safe. Though he didn't feel as though he could complain about this – if indeed he was going to learn how to read minds from all of this.
"Why are you teaching us all of this now?" Lestrange asked. "Why didn't you mention it before?"
"Well, I didn't see the point in spoiling the magic of my mind reading, so to speak." Tom smiled. "This is very advanced magic, moreover, and the less people who know about it, the better. Yet I feel as though you are now more worthy of learning such things…"
Nott could tell that Tom was being extra complementary to Lestrange and him today and he couldn't help but wonder whether this was to do with the fact that he, Tom, wanted to keep his secrets safe. He probably didn't want more questions to be asked about why he was doing this and flattery about their skills was a clever way to stop curiosity – especially from Lestrange, who valued himself very highly when it came to magical ability.
"But now," Tom said, after watching the two of them for a time, "I do believe we should ask no further questions, so as to start these lessons without wasting further time…"
It was mad, absolutely mad. Nott didn't know why he had never guessed about mind reading before. He had always thought that Tom was a mastermind when it came to reading people, but nothing more than that (though Nott later discovered that this was, roughly, the idea of Legilimency). It seemed impossible that Tom could have learnt this ability in his years at Hogwarts when Nott began to learn more about it… Yet then again, Nott thought, this was the same wizard who had learnt how to move objects using only his mind before the age of eleven, and before he had ever attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
The room that Tom had set up for Nott and Lestrange within Jonathan's house was small, yet quite comfortable. Nott was sure that it was normally used as an upstairs library, for there were many shelves around and the room didn't seem to have much purpose beyond storing hundreds of books. Nott and Lestrange had their own separate single beds, of course, and the both of them currently sat upon them while they discussed the day's events.
"Mind reading," Lestrange said in disbelief. "I still can't believe it exists. We've never once heard about it before…"
"It isn't surprising that it's kept as such secret though," Nott observed, "and there's no wonder it's illegal in general. It's sort of unfair."
"Unfair?" Lestrange repeated. "It's brilliant!"
"You know what I mean though," Nott said, "if everyone knew Legilimency, there would be a massive divide in the rights of those more and those less powerful with magic. Not to mention, no kids or young adults would have any privacy."
"It would still be brilliant, being able to read minds," Lestrange said. "To know what everyone else is thinking…"
"I'd rather be able to protect my thoughts first, to be honest," Nott said quietly. He hated the idea that Tom, Jonathan, and Dumbledore had all been able to read what he was thinking about at all times… They both thought about this for a few minutes.
"You know," Lestrange began after a silence, his mind having evidently wandered, "Voldemort doesn't seem very keen upon helping me regain back my memories, I noticed…"
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, he didn't mention anything directly about it," Lestrange reminded him, "and don't you remember what he said about the magic I had forgotten?"
"He said you would remember the magic because it was more instinctive, didn't he?" Nott only remembered this because it made him think about how magic was registered in the brain.
"Exactly," Lestrange said. "That must mean that he doesn't think he should bother helping me. If I know the magic, he won't care about anything else concerning the memory loss."
"What do you mean by suggesting all of this?" Nott asked, genuinely confused. "There isn't that much for you to remember anyway."
"But I want to remember," Lestrange complained. "I don't want to keep worrying about what information, thoughts, and lessons I might have learnt in that time. I wish Tom would help me with it – you know he probably knows how to lift the charm, or something."
Nott didn't know what to say to this. He didn't know why Tom wasn't being helpful and he didn't want to mess up any plans Tom might have about lying to Lestrange. For good measure, he decided to say, "There might not be a way for him to lift the Memory Charm, since it was self-inflicted."
"What will that change?"
"Well, you hear about witches and wizards having to learn about Memory Charms when they're in St. Mungo's so they can heal themselves from trauma, sometimes," Nott said. "Self-inflicted Memory Charms are a lot harder to break. They aren't often broken, really."
"Are you saying I should try and break it myself?" Lestrange inquired, appearing to like the idea.
"No," Not assessed quickly. It would be dangerous on many levels. "I'm saying that Tom wouldn't be able to help you and your best bet is waiting for the magic to wear off."
"That could take months," Lestrange said restlessly.
Nott couldn't see how that was a bad thing. "Better than never, I guess…"
"But it could be never too!" Lestrange exclaimed.
Nott said nothing. Lestrange sat back on his bed, sighing heavily and staring up at the ceiling. Nott examined Lestrange's frustrated expression in profile for a moment, before his eyes wandered down to the other boy's long, thin frame.
"It makes me wonder whether I know something I shouldn't…" Lestrange muttered.
Nott's eyes snapped back to Lestrange's face at these words. "What?"
Lestrange turned to look at him. There was a pause. Nott's words had been sharp.
"I mean, why do you think that?" Nott asked more curiously, trying to hide the fact that he was fearful. His voice was light and calm.
Lestrange seemed convinced that Nott's quick response wasn't odd, after all. He was glad that his theory was of interest. "I just don't understand why I would use a Memory Charm on myself," he expressed. "It wouldn't make sense unless I felt as though there was a secret I knew I had to keep from Grindelwald's people. The fact that Tom won't help me makes me more suspicious…"
"Why wouldn't Tom want to help you, if he knew you chose to forget something important?" Nott asked, trying to assess where Lestrange's theory led.
"He likely knows what I've forgotten," Lestrange answered simply. He sounded defeated as he rested his head back down on his pillow. "He probably doesn't care whether I remember it or not… He won't trust me with secrets."
"But he's teaching you Occlumency," Nott pointed out, knowing Lestrange well enough to understand that he felt neglected by Tom again. "This must mean that he wants to trust you and I with secrets later on."
"Jonathan learnt Occlumency years ago," Lestrange observed sourly. "Probably when he was still at Hogwarts…"
"Voldemort wouldn't have taught Jonathan Occlumency that early," Nott said. "He would have read his mind for a while, being Tom."
"That doesn't change the fact that Jonathan learnt about this magic first…"
Nott couldn't deny that, so he said nothing.
"Why are you being taught Occlumency, anyway?" Lestrange suddenly asked. He looked annoyed. "If you don't know any secret information, why is Voldemort giving you the skills to protect your mind from intruders?"
"Didn't he say he was teaching us Occlumency because we've both been learning the Dark Arts so well?" Nott inquired. He didn't believe that was Tom's true reason, but he decided to join Tom's lie. "Plus, he might be planning on 'promoting' us in the future; trusting us with his plans and secrets."
This didn't seem to make Lestrange any less annoyed.
"Don't start getting annoyed with me just because Voldemort treats us the same," Nott said, almost annoyed. He could never really be angry with Lestrange. "It's only because we work well together – you know how much Voldemort values that."
"But he values Jonathan on his own," Lestrange said, glaring into space. "Jonathan is never paired up with anyone… expect Tom himself, of course…"
Nott was going to say this meant Lestrange should give up trying to be a solo team since Tom obviously thought pairs were better, but he stopped himself. There was no point letting Lestrange understand this, since it would only irk him. He wondered somewhere in the back of his mind how Lestrange might re-evaluate his hate for Jonathan if he knew the whole truth about Jonathan's connection to Voldemort…
"I don't see why Tom wants to pair us up all the time," Lestrange said, annoyed as he always was with Nott's silence. "Even if we work well as a team…"
"Would you prefer it if I didn't work with you?" Nott asked, his voice monotonic. Lestrange got this way quite often due to his jealousy of Jonathan.
Lestrange looked even more annoyed. It wouldn't be surprising if he were in half a mind to say, 'Yes, that's precisely what I'd prefer.' Nott tried hard to not find this offensive.
"It isn't that," Lestrange said, "it's just that I wish Tom would stop ignoring how hard we work."
"Voldemort knows we work hard," Nott said. He didn't know whether this was actually true, but he felt as though Lestrange needed to hear it. "He even admitted that he thought we were progressing well – hence why he started these Occlumency lessons."
Lestrange didn't seem to want to believe it, but after a minute or two he seemed convinced that Nott was probably right. "He doesn't quite appreciate my work enough, though…"
Nott privately felt that they wouldn't have gotten so much work done had they not worked together, so he felt it was a bit selfish of Lestrange to refer to their work as 'my work'. Again, however, Nott didn't feel like entering that argument.
"If Tom wants me to forget something," Lestrange carried on, "I know I should likely respect his choice and should likely stop searching so determinedly for my lost memories… yet I just can't refrain from thinking about it – it's frustrating!"
"We still don't know if you really have a secret stored in your mind," Nott commented idly. He was still thinking about how little Lestrange valued their teamwork.
"But I truly think it must be true – it just fits."
"As you said, though, Tom probably wouldn't want you to remember it."
"He wouldn't have to know I'm trying."
"He'd know," Nott said. "He always does."
"I'll just avoid eye contact," Lestrange announced almost triumphantly.
"It's still risky."
Lestrange didn't bother arguing about it. He was sure that this is what he wanted, and nothing Nott could say would change his mind.
"I think I can will the memories back, you know," Lestrange voiced, keen upon the idea. "If I try hard enough, it should work…"
Nott knew this was true, but he didn't know whether he should encourage the idea.
"I should start with the last thing I remember and try and gather information from there," Lestrange continued, impervious this time to the lack of response. "Of course, more important memories will be the easiest to gain back. Memories that would still make me feel alarmed, happy, angry, embarrassed…"
Nott didn't like the sound of this, in full honesty. He had a sinking feeling that discovering Harry and Tom were dating would be a very venerable memory for Lestrange to remember, if indeed he continued trying to recall the past…
"The last thing I remember has to be when we were all getting ready to attack Grindelwald's fortress for the first time," Lestrange said. "I remember we had that Dragon and I remember how happy Tom was, after all that worrying… Something happened before that though, something about Mulciber… Why were we all scared of him?"
"He killed Quentin Pyrites," Nott admitted. "At Voldemort's command, of course. Then, about a month later, he managed to kill seven people. One of them was a healer that Tom brought here to fix Jonathan when Jonathan got really ill after being tortured by Grindelwald's people."
Lestrange hummed in disbelief. "I don't remember all of that… but it makes sense, especially with the fear I feel at the idea of Mulciber."
"That Dragon we used to break into Grindelwald's fortress also died," Nott said. "Tom was furious."
"Ah, I remember that." Lestrange shook his head. "I don't know how we all managed that…"
"Do you remember anything after the Dragon died?"
Lestrange's brow was furrowed as he thought. "I remember how worried Voldemort was about Jonathan – that annoyed me quite a bit – but I don't quite know about after that… Jonathan got ill, you say?"
"Yes, and Grindelwald's people attempted to attack us when Tom left to look for Healers for Jonathan." It was odd, suddenly, that Lestrange now had no recollection of any of this… "Mulciber killed those people only a few hours before Tom returned. He had Slughorn with him, as well as the Healer Madame Arouet."
"I sort of remember that…" Lestrange's face was vaguely contorted when he thought. "I remember seeing Slughorn here, for sure… and I remember seeing Jonathan sick in his room… I also remember playing cards in this house, before that. Seeing the kitchen reminded me. Avery was being such an idiot that night."
"He was drinking." Nott smiled a little. "Kept asking Jonathan a bunch of questions about his and Tom's pasts."
"I don't really remember… though I assume it was uncomfortable."
"It was. He just wouldn't stop talking."
"At least Tom wasn't there."
"No, Avery wouldn't have dared to do that in front of Voldemort."
Nott watched as Lestrange brought his hands up to his face, rubbing his forehead in thought. "I just can't remember anything else…"
"That's only to be expected, really."
"But I feel as though I'm so close to remembering something more…"
"There's a lot you have to remember," Nott said. He didn't have to hide his concerned expression while Lestrange was rubbing his eyes with his palms. He didn't know how he could help make Lestrange let it go…
"All I remember is how obsessive Voldemort was about Jonathan's recovery," Lestrange said, not at all cautious about his embittered tone. "He cared about Jonathan more than he ever cared about the rest of us when we were ill. It was completely unfair… What is more, Tom probably knows how annoyed we all are about it, since he's read our minds – he mustn't even care!"
Nott wondered if any of the others really cared about Tom's favouritism towards Jonathan. Lestrange seemed like the only one who hadn't gotten used to it by now. Everyone else became rudely bored when they heard Lestrange complain about it constantly – everyone but Nott, that is.
That's probably the only reason why Lestrange didn't break away from him, Nott thought. They were both each other's closest friends… Which probably put Nott's life into perspective, in truth. Nott sometimes wondered whether he should just leave Lestrange and become better friends with the other Knights now. Unfortunately, he didn't like any of his old Slytherin companions more than he liked Lestrange as a friend…
"Even if Tom has noticed your annoyance, but hasn't done anything about it, what does that change?" Nott asked. "It just means you're going to have to get used to Jonathan."
"Of course, you would say only this," Lestrange seethed, "being such a dear friend of Jonathan's now…"
Was Harry Nott's friend? He seemed like a surprisingly interesting person when he wasn't overwhelmed by twenty of Tom's followers at a time, or when he didn't feel the need to take over as leader when Tom was busy or away. Nott hadn't had very many conversations with Jonathan yet (or, rather, not that many proper conversations since finding out his and Tom's secret) but Jonathan struck Nott as someone who had quite a similar mindset to him.
Nott could never really place exactly what he meant when he thought that Jonathan and him had a similar mindset, but it seemed to be the closest thing to a definition for why he felt that Jonathan could be a good friend. Maybe it was the fact that Harry didn't have many friends either (unless Tom counted), or the fact that they were both drawn here by an addictive force – in Nott's case: an obsession with the Dark Arts that he couldn't seem to break out of, in Harry's case: a strong connection to Tom that he couldn't replace, likely.
"What do you suppose we all refer to him as 'Jonathan'?" Lestrange suddenly inquired, interrupting Nott's ponderings. "The rest of us only go by our last names… Is that disrespectful, or merely because he's close to Voldemort?"
"It's probably because he has so many false names, it doesn't even matter," Nott responded, not really thinking about it.
Lestrange laughed coldly to himself. "The main reason why we use only our surnames is to refer to our blood purity… something Jonathan is likely uninvolved in."
"You don't think he's a pureblood?"
"I've seen no proof of it."
"I don't think Tom would care about Jonathan so much if Jonathan was Muggle-born."
"He might only care about Jonathan because he was an orphan," Lestrange observed. "If Jonathan was raised by Mug–"
Lestrange stopped talking. Voldemort was always furious whenever anyone mentioned that he had been brought up by Muggles, so none of the Knights dared to mention it. It was a forbidden subject.
"I don't think that Voldemort just gets along with Jonathan well because of the past, even if that's true," Nott carried on, as if to help Lestrange's mistake. "Jonathan is quite skilled, as you know."
Lestrange didn't appreciate the reminder. He sat staring into space for a moment, giving no reply. It appeared as though his thoughts were dragged one last time back to what was truly bothering him.
"I think Jonathan has something to do with what I know I specifically forgot," Lestrange murmured. Nott began watching him carefully at this point. "I still can't imagine what it might be, however… but if it's about Jonathan, Tom might not know. I might have a chance of finding out what it is if I work hard enough. I could use it as blackmail, perhaps…"
Lestrange smiled darkly to himself at his last words.
Then, after a minute or two, he turned to Nott.
"You seem awfully quiet about this," he observed. He was wary.
Nott wondered whether Lestrange was attempting to scare the worry out of him, to force any guilt or nerves to jump to his face – even for a second. Nott, however, was unfazed. "I just don't know what to say, really… I think whatever you're doing by remembering the past four months could be dangerous."
"Why do you suppose I do then?" Lestrange snapped, annoyed. "Let it go and lose this chance of getting information about Jonathan that could be useful?"
"You've taken this too far," Nott said. "You don't even really know if this is about Jonathan, you just thought of that – for the hope of revenge, likely."
"I didn't make it up!" Lestrange said indignantly. "I know I've forgotten something vital – don't you get it? It's my mind! All I know is that I know something, and I'm sure it's about Jonathan now!"
Nott wished that he didn't know what Lestrange had forgotten. That way, he could easily just keep denying that it was about Jonathan – saying that that was irrational jealousy speaking – and it would force Lestrange into moving on from his obsession. Nott couldn't bring himself to lie that directly to Lestrange. He didn't know what to do…
After a minute, he stood up. "You should just do what Voldemort asks," he said. He sounded defeated. When Lestrange made no comment about this, Nott left the room, saying he was gong to take a bath before sleep. They didn't speak much for the rest of the night.
Mid April faded gradually into early May, but even with two solid weeks of practicing Occlumency, Nott and Lestrange found themselves making little or no progress. Tom didn't seem very annoyed by this so Nott assumed that this was quite usual, yet he wondered privately how long it was going to take before he could return to the headquarters, to live a little further away from Lestrange – or at least with distractions from him…
It wasn't that he always disliked spending time with Lestrange, it was merely that sharing one small room with him was quite unbearable, especially when Lestrange took it upon himself to make a point every day to break down his thoughts on why Jonathan didn't deserve to be so close to Voldemort. It continued to make Nott uncomfortable every day when Lestrange obsessed over lost memories, determined to remember everything he could…
It was late one evening when Nott and Lestrange were sitting in the living room of Jonathan's house, as they often did for a few hours after returning from Occlumency lessons. The room was surrounded by bookshelves and filled with many chairs and couches so it was the best place in Harry's house to spend the otherwise quite dull evenings.
Jonathan had returned home early from work with Tom and he was currently in the midst of talking to Nott and Lestrange. Nott listened to what he said contently; relieved to speak to someone other than Lestrange for once, while Lestrange sat on a nearby chair, quietly (yet not quite reluctantly) listening to the conversation without contributing to it. Lestrange was only glad to see Harry here because it meant he wasn't spending absolutely every hour with Tom, at least.
Harry appeared wearier than usual and Nott couldn't quite work out why this might be. Although he was still training Dragons with Tom most days, it seemed as though what made him tired was relating to a psychological strain, rather than a physical one. His eyes were darker and redder than usual and his face was getting progressively more waxen while he slept through most of the day, missing the sunlight, and spending a lot of his time with fifty foot, fire-breathing beasts.
Admittedly, however, there was not one Knight of Walpurgis now who didn't look worn and mentally changed these days (unless you counted the new German arrivals, who were a bit more looked-after, compared). Many of the Knights, such as Avery, Ransom, Dolohov, Gonson, and Macnair had all gained noticeable scars on their faces and bodies in general (Macnair, in fact, was now missing quite a few fingers), while many others were unshaven and unclean, many stank of alcohol and a number of other things, and of top of all this none of them had any reason to try and look any better. They were all ruffians now – Nott and Lestrange included.
"What has everyone been saying about Mulciber?" Lestrange asked Jonathan at one point, speaking for about the third time this evening. "Don't tell me he's murdered again? Many of the others seem very worried, but Nott and I didn't have time to learn why."
"He didn't murder anyone," Harry assured the Knight quickly, understanding his concern. "He got into a fight with Dolohov last night. They both injured each other pretty badly, but Mulciber won easily, which probably scared the others a little."
"Mulciber was pretty brutal, from what I heard," Nott mentioned.
"That's not surprising," Harry responded, looking as though he attempted to smirk. "Drunk, as well."
"Again, unsurprisingly," Nott added.
"I haven't been fortunate enough to see him at all sober these last few months," Lestrange voiced apathetically. "The more time that passes, the less I believe he'll ever stop drinking, what is more."
"I guess he just needs some sort of escape," Nott said. "Who can blame him really, after what he's done…"
Lestrange hummed in humourless laughter while Jonathan raised his eyebrows marginally in agreement, blinking slowly as if annoyed. After a moment, Nott could see Jonathan clenching his jaw while he stared into space. He was glad that Jonathan seemed to agree with his own dislike for having such a raging murderer in their headquarters…
"Though I can't say I think it'd be much better if Mulciber was deprived of alcohol," Lestrange drawled, not noticing Harry's annoyance. "He was never very pleasant sober either – especially when he couldn't get what he wanted."
"I imagine he'd probably take hostages if Voldemort didn't give him the drinks he wanted," Nott commented.
Jonathan looked up at him somewhat sharply at the use of the name 'Voldemort'. This confused Nott, but after only a second of staring Jonathan dropped his gaze, visibly realising his mistake. After this, his expression was unreadable, like it often was. Nott didn't know what to think of this…
"Mulciber already breaks many rules to get his way," Lestrange carried on. Nott wondered why he was suddenly so keen upon talking. "It is somewhat annoying that he always gets given what he wants by Voldem–"
"Don't call him Voldemort," Jonathan interrupted.
His tone had been cold and his stare towards Lestrange was even more so. Nott had a sudden feeling that Harry had been close to interrupting him too a minute ago. He wondered what had stopped it… perhaps the fact that Lestrange was ruder to him, or something along those lines.
Lestrange's nostrils flared while his face somewhat reddening. "You didn't stop Nott from saying Vol–"
"I was about to," Harry interrupted again. He seemed to very much hate the name, Nott thought. His jaw was clenching again.
"Well, what else is there to call him?" Lestrange asked. He was struggling greatly to keep his voice controlled and polite. "We can't continue calling him Tom forever."
Harry seemed close to giving an irritable response, which surprised Nott, but his voice was calm when he spoke.
"Just… I don't know, call him 'Lord', or something," Harry said. He didn't seem to like this idea either, but it appeared better than 'Voldemort' to him. Nott was still greatly confused.
"If you wish," Lestrange said in a low voice. He was blatantly pissed off.
Harry looked away from the two of them after this, thinking about his inability to endure the name 'Voldemort', Nott supposed.
"As I was saying," Lestrange continued irritably, "I don't know how our Lord can continue giving Mulciber everything he wants. He's only going to spoil Mulciber further."
"I suppose Tom has no reason to not give Mulciber what he wants," Harry said quietly. "It's easier to just keep him quiet."
"Oh, so you can call him Tom, then?" Lestrange asked.
Harry looked up at him, his face unreadable once more.
"Yeah," he responded simply, indifferently. "I can."
Lestrange's face twitched, but he said nothing while Harry stared at him. Perhaps remembering that Jonathan could read his mind, Lestrange looked away, defeated and annoyed.
"I think you're wrong about Mulciber getting whatever he wants, though," Harry continued, his voice less cold now. "The reason he still does bad things is because he doesn't get what he wants – like when he and a group of others escaped when Tom was away so they could go to the nearest wizarding pub. Tom didn't give him what he wanted then, either."
"Well, that's only because he murdered so many people," Lestrange pointed out. Nott knew Lestrange didn't actually remember very much about that event, so he thought it was a bit rich for him to state this fact so boldly.
"You can't say he always gets what he wants, then," Harry stated.
"But that's not what I'm saying," Lestrange asserted. "All I'm addressing is the fact that Mulciber will keep doing bad things to make Tom to give him what he wants."
"What does that matter?" Harry asked.
"He can't be allowed to be so childish!" Lestrange exclaimed, loosing his tempter. "One of these days Tom won't be able to shut him up."
"Yeah, because Mulciber is really stronger than Tom", Harry commented sarcastically.
Lestrange's face reddened again.
"If it wasn't for Mulciber, a lot of our people could be dead," Harry reminded Lestrange. "He's a horrible person who gets what he wants in a pretty childish way, but I don't see what your point is."
"My point is that he can't always get–!"
"But he can," Harry interrupted. "He can get what he wants, because Tom would rather spend two seconds conjuring Firewhiskey, compared to spending all his time fighting with a wizard who's obviously damaged and mentally unstable as it is."
This silenced Lestrange, but didn't seem to make him any less enraged and irritated. Nott was surprised that Harry had dared to say this.
"Are you saying we'll all get what we want if we fight each other and threaten to murder?" Nott asked casually, smirking slightly.
Harry seemed satisfied that he wasn't angry. "I wouldn't rule that out as an option," he joked, "but Tom would probably respect you two a lot less if you were like that. Tom never liked Mulciber much before, but the complaints he gets from him now only makes him think Mulciber is more worthless."
"Plus, I can't say murdering seven people is worth it for a few drinks a night," Nott commented, "no matter how much of an alcoholic he's become."
"But he gets everything he wants," Lestrange complained, "I wouldn't even be surprised if our Lord started allowing witches to visit Mulciber when he wanted it!"
"He wouldn't allow that," Nott said, "he's not stupid – any stranger who visits this place often could end up being a spy."
"Tom would make the whores stay, then," Lestrange responded. "Anything for dear Mulciber!"
Harry didn't even respond to this remotely. He appeared indifferent.
"That still wouldn't happen," Nott said.
"I bet you get witches here," Lestrange suddenly said to Harry, ignoring Nott's words. "You and Vol– our Lord."
"That's not true," Harry said. He watched Lestrange, thinking. "Tom doesn't approve of such things…"
"You've asked him, then?" Lestrange inquired.
"No." Harry didn't elaborate.
"Then how do you know he won't approve?" Lestrange asked, annoyed.
Harry didn't respond. Nott wasn't sure why for a moment, before he heard a noise in another part of the house. Someone had just closed the front door quietly. Knowing that none of the Knights had the ability to get into Harry's house without knocking, the three wizards listening understood that it must be Voldemort.
Nott felt a little tense as the talking ceased. He could hear Voldemort's slow, even footsteps heading towards this room and he could feel uncontrollable anxiety rising within him at the mere sound. He didn't know how he was supposed to act, while he worried about whether Voldemort would dislike the idea that they had stopped talking at the sound of him arriving.
Likely due to hearing the conversation only in murmurs when he entered the house, Voldemort indeed appeared somewhat surprised at the silence when he entered Harry's living room. The whole energy of this gathering had changed, as it often did when Tom showed up to previously informal and relaxed conversations. Lestrange shifted uneasily in his chair; perhaps uncomfortable at the idea that Tom could have heard the conversation before.
Voldemort's dark eyes seemed to shine red in the dim light while examined the two Knights before him. He stood besides Harry's chair, a false, empty smile curling upon his lips softly. Nott could feel a growing sense of fear at the mere sight of his Lord, and he knew that Voldemort would sense it…
"You shouldn't feel the need to end the conversation merely because I have arrived," Voldemort said softly, still watching Nott and Lestrange. "I can't imagine there would be anything you couldn't talk of before me… I know all of your minds well, after all."
Harry, who was perfectly calm, smiled lightly. "The conversation was ending anyway," he said.
Voldemort smiled a little more, looking down at Harry now. His face, like Harry's, was somewhat whitened and blurred due to lack of sunlight and excessive amounts of time spent near fire, but – again like Harry – he still managed to hold onto his handsome features, somehow. His eyes were softer when they focused upon his lover.
"When're you here, anyway?" Harry asked curiously, his tone light.
"We have more work to do," Tom said softly. Nott saw his hand resting upon Harry's shoulder now. "Don't you remember?"
"I've sort of lost track of when we're supposed to be working, to be honest," Harry responded, smirking.
Voldemort's hand slid away from Harry's shoulder while he stood up, preparing to leave.
"I'll be back late," Harry informed the two Knights. "Feel free to make any food you want to, and so on."
Harry saw Tom smiling at him carefully. He smiled back before Voldemort turned away, leaving the room. It looked as though Harry was about to follow, to disappear to Tom's house without another word, but something else caught his attention. Nott followed Harry's gaze and the both of them observed Lestrange, who was staring at the Knight's second Lord in what could only be described as horror.
Lestrange looked away from Harry hurriedly when he was caught staring. He appeared scared and sickened. Harry then looked at Nott, his eyes resting upon him for only a few seconds. This was enough time for Harry to convey the growing concern that gripped him when he realized, as Nott now did, that Lestrange had suddenly remembered the secret he chose so eagerly to forget, even at the cost of four months' memories lost…
Nott wanted to ask Harry to stay, but he knew the request would be futile. Tom would be furious to learn that Lestrange was blatantly already reacting badly and it appeared as though Harry didn't know what to do about this. Only a few seconds had passed since Tom left, but Harry couldn't stay to think about this. So, perhaps trusting that Nott could take care of it for a while, he began leaving the room.
"I'll be back later," he said in a low voice.
Before Nott could do anything to stop it, Harry left with Tom. The silence that dragged on after this was very, very uncomfortable. It was a minute before Nott could bring himself to look at Lestrange.
Lestrange was staring at him, apparently bewildered with his own realization. Nott attempted to look confused. He supposed that Lestrange was too shocked to notice it if his expression was off, for he appeared to believe Nott's questioning look.
"I think I just remembered why I used that Memory Charm," Lestrange said in little over a whisper.
"Why?" Nott asked. Some part of him hoped he was wrong, somehow, about Lestrange knowing Voldemort and Harry's secret, but he knew he wasn't…
"I – I…" Lestrange couldn't seem to find the words.
Nott waited.
"I think there's a reason for why Voldemort cares about Jonathan so much," Lestrange continued. "There's a reason for why he gets this house and why he… he works with Voldemort so much…"
Nott didn't know what to say. He continued watching Lestrange, feeling uneasy. Something in Nott's expression seemed to scare Lestrange even more, though Nott didn't know what it was before the other Knight spoke.
"You know, don't you?" Lestrange suddenly asked. His eyes were shining in disbelief. "You knew about this all along, about how they… how they're…"
"I don't see how this should change anything," Nott said quietly, knowing that by this point it didn't matter what he said. He couldn't deny the fact that he knew Harry and Tom were boyfriends; he knew that Lestrange would spot his lies.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Lestrange demanded. "Why didn't you think that – that it was important to warn me?"
"Tom said I couldn't warn or remind you about it," Nott explained.
Lestrange looked outraged as well as disgusted now.
"You were fine with it before," Nott told him. "You accepted it."
These words didn't reassure Lestrange. He stared, appearing almost pained while he struggled to think about this. Breaking eye contact, he said, "I understand, now, why I modified my memory…"
"You never hated the idea this much when we joked about it in theory," Nott reminded him.
"But that was in theory!" Lestrange exclaimed. His expression seemed to plead for Nott to be as alarmed and frightened as he was, but Nott honestly didn't feel that way about this. He was only worried about what would happen to Lestrange if Voldemort didn't approve of this reaction.
"Voldemort threatened us to keep quiet about it," Nott added, trying to bring Lestrange's attention to the fact that Tom wasn't going to be at all happy about this. "We had no choice but to accept it."
Lestrange didn't seem to be listening to him. He was wrapped up in his own thoughts about the situation. "How can anyone be that desperate to be with someone else?" he wondered allowed.
Nott was silent. He was unable to believe Lestrange would be this homophobic, suddenly.
"Or maybe they both like that sort of thing," Lestrange carried on, wincing at the very idea. "Maybe Tom has always been a faggot…"
Nott was staring to feel sick due to Lestrange's brutality. He was unsure about how he should react, or what he should and shouldn't say. "They aren't desperate," he said. "They've been together since Hogwarts."
This, again, did not reassure Lestrange. "We shared the same Dormitory as them!" he exclaimed.
"So?" Nott asked, "It's not like they did anything there."
Lestrange was shaking his head, unable to comprehend all of this.
Nott couldn't understand why Lestrange would react differently this time. He knew that Lestrange was never exactly supportive of it before, but it confused him to see Lestrange so against the idea now. He supposed that it was possible that Lestrange was missing something this time – such as a bewildered remark from Nott about how he saw Tom holding Harry's hand when Harry was ill in bed – but it still made him wonder whether it was just luck that Lestrange had accepted it before.
"I wouldn't touch another man even if I knew I'd never see another woman ever again," Lestrange voiced. "The idea of choosing men above women for no reason…" He shook his head again.
Nott shifted in his chair a little, examining the fine wooden floor in front of him for a few seconds. His mouth was suddenly very dry…
His movements, apparently, were enough to cause Lestrange to stare.
There was a long silence. While Nott looked at Lestrange, he could almost see the memories flicking past his mind trough his confused eyes. Nott felt sicker than ever; his heart was hammering. He didn't know what to do as a sense of foreboding gripped him and he wished more than ever that he wasn't alone with Lestrange.
"W-we – we," Lestrange stuttered. Nott had never seen him looked so shocked before. "Don't honestly t-tell me… that – that…"
"Lestrange," Nott said, his voice little over a whisper, "it was a mistake–"
Lestrange stood up, unable to stay seated any longer. He seemed close to running away from Nott, but he instead merely back away, holding his up his hands slightly as though he feared Nott coming any closer. Nott found that he was standing too, but he couldn't remember the act of getting up.
"It was an accident," Nott said again, this time managing a stronger voice. His hearts was pounding in his ears. "We weren't thinking straight–"
"When was this?" Lestrange demanded.
"I – er," Nott had to think for a moment. "The day before you left for Germany. No one knows about it – not even Jonathan or Voldemort."
The two Lords of the Knights of Walpurgis had been far too wrapped up in their own affairs at the time to truly look into Nott's mind, and fortunately for the young Knight, he had also worked hard to push the thought out of his mind when around other people, to avoid questions for why he looked so peculiar. Nott wished more than anything that Lestrange hadn't remembered this, since he was obviously so against the idea.
Lestrange was still unable to speak and unwilling to do anything while another silence dragged on.
"I'm not gay," Nott told Lestrange. "It wasn't planned it just… happened."
Lestrange was only shaking his head again. He was backing away.
Nott took a step forwards to try and stop him, but it was too late; Lestrange fled the room. As Nott listened, he heard that Lestrange attempted to open the front door, but it wouldn't budge. Nott guessed that Harry had locked it so Lestrange wouldn't start a panic with the other Knights. Nott heard Lestrange go upstairs. He had no desire to follow him.
Nott was left alone with his own thoughts. He stood amongst the books, couches, and chairs, trying to think. In full honestly, he didn't know whether he was gay. His breathing was hard with discomfort while his thoughts pained him. He had never really thought about homosexuality before Lestrange brought it up in jest, initially to explain why Harry was so dedicated and close to Tom. Nott had still dated witches in the past – and successfully – but there was just something equally as tempting when he thought about Lestrange…
Nott brought his hands up to his face, irritated. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, before allowing his hands to move upwards to grip his hair in stress. He didn't know why he couldn't get the idea of Lestrange out of his mind. He still thought about witches and he was still able to think about spending the rest of his life with a witch, but it was just the idea that he was allowed to have Lestrange, since Harry had Tom…
That was the worst part, Nott thought: he had the opportunity to be homosexual safely if he wanted to, thanks to Voldemort, and this had allowed him to let himself fall for Lestrange properly. He had liked Lestrange for years, he recently realized. He didn't know how, but it was certainly true – yet surely someone couldn't like both men and women at once? It didn't make sense… it didn't make any sense at all!
Nott closed his eyes, hating the despondency that coursed through him at the idea of Lestrange suddenly being so homophobic. Lestrange had liked him before; Nott didn't understand why he would have changed this time. Nott couldn't grasp the idea that he had now lost the chance to be with the wizard he had longed for for so many years. He wished he had never allowed himself to try and be closer to Lestrange. He wished he didn't care about the other wizards emotionally or physically. It didn't make sense…
Nott understood, suddenly, that he was going to have to pretend he didn't care about Lestrange. He was going to have to go upstairs, hiding his sorrow, to tell Lestrange that it had been his idea anyway, so Nott couldn't be thought of as weird for accepting homosexuality. He was going to tell Lestrange that it had been meaningless and that he hoped it wouldn't happen ever again. He was going to have to lie about everything…
Nott dropped his hands from his head, knowing this was the right thing to do. He used his sleeve to dry his face quickly, knowing it wouldn't luckily look like he'd been crying yet. He began walking from the room, trying not to think. He counted the steps as he ascended the staircase, thinking about what words he'd use. He didn't hesitate before heading into his and Lestrange's bedroom, to find Lestrange standing by his bed warily.
"I'm sorry," Nott said. His was voice determinedly strong. "I'm sorry you're so against the idea. It didn't mean anything. It was just… It just happened… It was your idea anyway, it's not like I asked you… You said something about being close to Voldemort – I don't know, it was a mistake…"
Lestrange was surveying him. He appeared less appalled, to Nott's relief. This was, perhaps, the only thing that had helped Nott to lie successfully about how it was a mistake. Lestrange took a deep intake of breath, before sighing. He was still uneasy about it all.
"I guess I really did accept the idea before," he joked.
"It would seem so…"
Nott couldn't bring himself to smile. He could barely even bring himself to look at Lestrange without feeling a great desire to look away – or to even leave the house entirely.
Lestrange looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he refrained from doing so. He stood where he was, dubiously shifting his position every few seconds.
"I guess it wasn't your fault," he said after a time.
"It wasn't anyone's fault," Nott murmured.
Neither of them said a word for a moment.
"Why did I do it?" Lestrange asked in a rush, as though he couldn't stop himself.
"You said something about wanting to be closer to Voldemort," Nott explained, "you weren't really thinking straight. It was after spending time with the Knights all day, probably drinking – it wasn't like we thought about it for long."
"Right…" Lestrange's thoughts appeared troubled.
Nott wondered suddenly whether Lestrange might become less homophobic if he gained back his memories relating to the whole situation of finding out about Jonathan and Voldemort… yet then again, Nott thought, that probably shouldn't matter to him. He wanted to believe that he and Lestrange would be friends again, but at the same time he knew he would just get hurt if he allowed himself to hope that Lestrange would be close to him after this. Lestrange was never going to like Nott as much as Nott liked him…
"Are you alright?" Lestrange suddenly asked.
Nott was a little surprised by this question. It was rare that Lestrange asked anyone if they were alright, so Nott supposed that he must have appeared dejected without thinking about it. He tried to fix that. "I'm fine," he lied.
Lestrange didn't push the subject. They didn't speak much for the rest of the night.
"I bet fifty-seven Galleons!" Dolohov announced.
"You are sure about zis?" one of the German Knights asked, his voice tauntingly surprised. "Vy not stop now, and save ze little money you 'ave left?"
"Don't try that trick with me," Dolohov warned, grinning. "I know when to place a bet."
"The problem with you, Dolohov," Lestrange drawled from across the table, "is that you appear to be lying to even yourself when you play these games."
Many of the Knights snickered at this, watching the game closely while Dolohov and the German wizard (Nott didn't know his name yet) began counting their money and placing tens or hundreds of galleons down.
"So, vat do you have?" the German Knight asked, his blue eyes staring determinedly.
Dolohov showed his hand and Nott heard the table erupt in laughter.
"You idiot, Dolohov!" someone exclaimed.
Nott didn't bother to look at what cards Dolohov had as he sat at the edge of the group, thinking. It had been a week since Lestrange had remembered Voldemort's greatest secret and so far Lestrange had succeeded in accepting it enough to satisfy Tom. Nott knew that Voldemort was still eager about the idea of modifying Lestrange's mind properly, but Harry wouldn't allow it. Lestrange was learning to deal with it, anyway…
Nott hadn't told his Lord about the apparent 'mistake' he and Lestrange had made the day before Lestrange left for Germany. He didn't know what Voldemort would think of it, or if he would even remotely care that it happened at all. Why, then, did Nott feel as though he wanted to mention it? It was difficult enough as it was trying to avoid the entire incident when talking to Lestrange, Nott didn't understand why he wanted to talk about it to someone else…
Whenever Nott had had problems in the past he had always turned to Lestrange for advice. He couldn't even talk to Lestrange now and he didn't feel as though he needed to clarify anything more… He watched the Knights of Walpurgis before him, examining an odd 'W'-shaped tattoo on the forearm of the main German wizard playing. He felt as though he had no one at all to talk to…
The only other option, really, was to talk to Harry. Nott didn't feel very close to Harry, but he might be the closest thing left to a friend now. The problem was that Nott didn't know how to approach the subject. He was scared by his worries being locked inside him, but he was also scared that Harry would ask 'why should I care?' if he ever attempted to confide in him. Because, in full honestly, why would he? It was Nott's problem, and Nott's own stupid mistakes…
The Knights of Walpurgis were all laughing and joking loudly by this point and Nott could barely think. He decided to get up, being noticed by no one in the process. He left the room they were all packed into, heading out into the hallway outside. He passed many distant German Wizards in the hall without making eye contact, heading outside at an even pace.
The air was cool and refreshing upon Nott's face. It was a lot nicer out here compared to that stuffy, smoke-filled room where the Knights played cards and betted upon mundane, mindless games. The stars were shining bright above the almost perfectly clear dome of magical protection that Voldemort had placed here, but Nott wasn't looking at the sky much.
He wanted to just forget Lestrange and never have to deal with him again. Perhaps this is why he wanted to talk to Voldemort about his vaguely recent 'mistake'. Voldemort would allow him to separate himself from Lestrange and he would perhaps appreciate that Nott had been open and honest with him. He might already know about everything through the Occlumency lessons anyway, Nott mused. He might be merciful about it…
Some part of Nott wanted Lestrange's memory to be cleared again. He didn't want to be Lestrange's friend anymore; he wanted Lestrange to treat him like a workmate and nothing more. He had no chance of dating Lestrange, since Lestrange was likely straight. He was only going to get hurt if he was to try and get Lestrange to understand how he felt. It wasn't right anyway; they weren't supposed to be together. Nott wasn't Harry or Tom. He was a Knight, with no chance of ever having the power of a Lord…
Dear Readers: I hope you just enjoyed reading TVoV's longest current chapter! Thank you all for the lovely reviews you have been leaving in my horrid absence - I assure you I haven't given up this story (and nor will I ever). My Writer's Block appears to have lessened a little (unless troubled writers often end up accidentally writing 13k? xP) I so really, really hope I'll get back into writing daily now!
(I also have to stop neglecting 'A Soulless Solace'… that's just getting ridiculous now, haha).
Thanks again!
