Theodore frowns as he recalls the nickname, given to him by the Slytherin boys: "Nott Hugger", they called him, alluding to his relationship with Draco in the most derogatory way they could. Of course, the cowards that they are, they never uttered so much as a syllable of it to his face, fearing retaliation from Draco, their king, the 'little Demon' and thus it was more of a lingering thing, an itch he couldn't scratch, a buzzing in his ear, an annoyance that needed to be dealt with.

Outside of that, Theo enjoys his new status as essentially third in command in the Slytherin house, as it not only gives him authority, but it gives him peace and quiet, it gives him time, and thus the ability to work on his projects, and to create as he should. His current project, the Forgotten Orb, as he likes to call it, is…not what it sounds like funny enough. It's more of an isolation thing: silencing, visual impairment, turning away unwanted people like muggles are turned away from magic, and even concealing magical usage and blocking traces. Everything he wants and everything he needs for what's to come.

Draco has given him a lot: women, power, fame, respect, and more important than all of that, someone who believes in him, a friend. Nott isn't one for friendship normally, as people are fickle, stupid, and often useless, but something about Draco is different. It's not just his intelligence, like it is with Blaise, nor the personability that Blaise possesses that makes him feel more at ease, no, with Draco it's…something else entirely. Draco…exists. He exists outside of everyone's expectations, even if he smashes them so completely every time, he exists outside the confinement of the rules, both written and unwritten, Draco…was free. He was himself. Something Theo respects, something he envies. And thanks to Draco, Theodore finds himself on the same path. Not everyone can be Draco, no one can, but what he can be is Theodore Nott, magical genius, commander of respect. And that brings him to his current situation.

The boys thought he didn't know, that he didn't hear them and their mockery, but he did. The teasing, the comments, the stares that looked down on him for being weak, for being quiet; they will soon find out that it's the quiet ones who you watch out for.

With purpose, Nott marches upon the boys and deploys his Forgotten Orb, trapping two of the boys in its clutches, Sixth years, the ring leaders of the "Nott Hugger" movement. Theo smiles as he realizes they will be here next year, to spread the message, to teach the lesson they will soon learn.

"Nott Hu-" The bigger of the two boys, a brunette of Scottish descent starts, but quickly corrects himself. "Nott, what are you on about, mate? Why've you cornered us in the common room like this?" He questions as he looks the younger boy in the eyes and sees something that frightens him. Instantly, he gulps in fear. "H-hey, Nott, what is this? We—" He doesn't get to finish his pleas.

"You started it." Theo informs them in a cold and callous tone. This time the other boy, one with black hair speaks out.

"I…w-we started what?" He starts strong, but when he looks the younger boy in the eyes, he too becomes frightened.

"The names, the jeers, calling me Draco's 'Nott Hugger', I know it was you." He informs them, the tension in the air growing with each word. The boys look around, nervous, wondering where is everyone and why is it that they seem to be trapped and alone in the darkness with this…fear.

"N-no?" Starts the larger boy, the brunette. "We would never, your lot—"

"You wouldn't in front of Draco…or even in front of me, in fear that I'd tell our King of your transgressions." Nott finishes for him, and suddenly both boys find it hard to breathe. "Unfortunately for you, I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know what you whisper behind my back. How you tease me."

"M-mate, we swear—" The black haired boy attempts to speak, only to be cut off again.

"It was just fun and games." He completes the older student's sentence, almost mockingly. "And so too shall this be." His face threatens both a sneer, and then a smirk, but he keeps himself controlled. See people thought Draco, the leader of their group, to be cruel, and he is, incredibly so, but surprisingly, he is not the worst they have to offer. Unbeknownst to the outsiders, and perhaps unbeknownst to Draco himself (Blaise is a toss up as he's always so observant), that privilege belongs to one Theodore Nott. As the screams of his enemies fill his ears, Theodore finds himself smiling a cruel smile, one not often used, but perhaps the most sincere expression he's ever worn. More and more screams join the cacophony and Nott soon finds himself showing teeth.

"What's got you excited?" Draco asks one day, eyebrow raised as Nott relives the scene in his head.

"ᴺᵒᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ." Nott replies quietly and subdued as always. Draco grins, wide.

"Is it a girl? Does our little Theo have him a crush?" He admits, he sucks in his breath at that word, at the mention of his name. Draco almost never calls him by his name. It's odd to hear, but validating, as if he's more than just his family. He knows Draco knows that, but it's different to hear it.

"N-no, it's not." He says, looking down shyly. "It's something else. Better." The two boys, one pale and one dark look at him expectantly. "ᴵ⁻ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ." Draco scoffs.

"Personal? What—" Suddenly, he stops, courtesy of a signal from Blaise. Theo is grateful to the more observant boy, and even nods in his direction. It'd be…it wouldn't be a problem to explain but it's unnecessary. He has it under control. This problem is beneath Draco and is of no concern to Blaise. It was an affront on him and him alone, and soon all will learn exactly what it means to cross Theodore Nott. They will rue the day they besmirched his name and they will beg for mercy. He will give them none.

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Draco smirks to himself when he hears that one Ginny Weasley has been taken hostage in the Chamber of Secrets. It's his time to shine, his time to save her, and he'd like to see who or what would dare stand in his way. Yes, soon he'd have her gratitude and soon she would be his. It's only a matter of time.

In a swift move, Draco turns around and exits the Slytherin common room, a man on a mission, marching with purpose, as he inches closer and closer to his goal.

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"FUCK!" The King of Slytherin AKA the "Little Demon" yells at the top of his lungs as he launches anything and everything around him with his magic. Books hit walls, glass shatters, chairs and desks are ruined, and so on, as Draco Malfoy vents his rage. As it turns out, he has no idea where the Chamber of Secrets is, nor does he know how to get to it. "FUCK!" He's not sure if he's more enraged about him not saving her, or the fact that Potter likely will.

He still hadn't forgiven Potter for snatching the Philospher's Stone last year, paradoxically doing what he could not, and now this.

"Fuck that four-eyed meddlesome do-gooder. Fuck him with a rusty dull blade. He just has to ruin everything!" He all but whines, still angry. Breathe Draco, breathe. Yes, Potter will steal the glory once again but…he can salvage thus. And he knows just the way to do it. Looking around, Draco finally notices the destroyed landscape, the utterly annihilated room around him, proof of his frustrations, of his tantrum, of his…hissy fit, and with a gesture, he fixes everything a new.

That…his plans are only good for the future. He will need to be patient until then. For now…he stares at his wand, brow furrowed and mind racing. For now, he needed to fix this oversight. This weakness. This inability to…a grin breaks out on his face, his usual sinister grin. He knows just the way to do it. He knows the way.