After all we've been through
No, we won't stand and salute
So we just ride, we just cruise
Livin' like there's nothing left to lose
January
Theo's Ancient Runes class feels worlds away compared to the events of the past few days as Professor Babbling drones on about the differences between the original alphabet and the revised version, Futhorc. He tries to pay attention, but her teaching falls short on his fuzzy attention span.
Thankfully, Hermione is by his side in the back row, scribbling on her notes back and forth with him.
-Were you able to get anything from Malfoy?
-No. I tried, but he keeps avoiding me.
-Probably my fault.
-I doubt that's the sole reason.
The day prior, she suggested to him that perhaps Draco may know something further about their new acquaintance. Afterall, they are family. It's easy enough to assume Narcissa would have known something regarding Regulus's initial disappearance. But, as usual, Draco either answered his inquiries with little substance or completely ignored them.
Theo sat on his bed and waited. The sixth year Slytherin boy's dorm was normally empty these days. Between Crabbe and Goyle off in the common room—doing Pansy's bidding—and Blaise tailing after his latest conquest, it was a wonder how any of them slept enough to function. He himself was hardly present anymore, typically choosing to stay on the sofa in the Room of Requirement most nights. No one ever questioned it and his housemates typically took to avoiding him anyway. But, it did leave him to question exactly what Draco was up to.
Luckily, after a couple hours of waiting, the wizard in question graced his presence. Although, he was looking a little worse for wear. His hair wasn't as tidy as it normally was, his cloak was missing, and his school vest was unbuttoned with his white button-up rumpled and untucked.
"Draco," Theo greeted.
He didn't respond or even look at him. Instead, he continued to stroll over to his dresser and rustled through the drawers, frantic in his movements.
"Draco," Theo tried again, but with more assertion.
Draco slammed the drawer shut. "What? Theodore."
"You seem on edge mate," Theo stated as he crossed his arms.
Chuckling darkly, Draco didn't bother to respond.
"Seriously, I don't know what's going on with you and honestly I'm worried, I've been worried."
"Oh you worried about me," Draco sneered and finally turned to face him. Those cold, grey eyes staring him down when he continued, "That's bollocks and you know it. You've been spending too much time with Saint Potter's Mudblood to care."
Theo gritted his teeth. He knew the conversation may turn this way and he needed to keep his cool if he was going to get any answers out of him, but the slander hurt way more than he could have imagined. "Please, stop calling her that."
Draco snorted, "Oh, you're defending her now. I suppose those rumours about you being a blood traitor are true then? She must be one fantastic shag if she's been able to manipulate you like this."
Theo huffed and chose not to indulge his grotesque rhetoric, regardless of how much he wanted to. "I'm not here to talk about that or her."
"Then why are you wasting my time? What do you want?"
"You're cousin, the one who went missing, Regulus. Has Narcissa ever mentioned anything about what happened?"
Draco leered at him and began to collect some of his things in his book bag. "I don't see how it has any relevance or any of your business."
"Trust me. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have a reason," Theo reasoned, matching Draco's gaze.
"Why don't you bloody send her an owl then and ask her yourself. I'm sure she would be elated to hear from you after you skipped out on the holidays." He said it so nonchalant, it made Theo wonder what his recent absence had caused. The last he knew, no one cared where he was these days.
He kept his tone controlled and allowed his eyes to soften with concern, "Because I'm asking you. We used to be close. We used to tell each other everything. Somehow, that has changed. What's happened to us, Draco?"
"Maybe I've decided to grow up. Not all of us can stay as ignorant as you, Theodore, and start ignoring our responsibilities. Something you should know all about, your own grandfather wrote the bloody book. Maybe it's time you learn from it."
Theo wasn't able to get another word in as Draco briskly strode out the door, not bothering to give him a second glance.
It's true, of course, that Theo's grandfather, Cantankerous Nott, wrote the Pure-Blood Directory. Something he despises and yet another reason to hate his birthright. But he fails to see what that has to do with Draco. Unless, of course, Potter's theory of Draco now being a Death Eater is true. At first, he laughed at the notion when Hermione informed him, but with each passing day, it made more and more sense.
Hermione squeezes his thigh to get his attention.
Theo turns to her and whispers, "What?"
She glances down at their notes.
-Do you think we should check on him today?
Oh, right, Regulus. The newest thorn in his side, one more thing to worry about.
-I don't know. Who knows how long we'll have to keep him there. He's going to have to get used to being on his own. We can't be there with him every day, we still have lives to keep up.
-I know, but it feels wrong, keeping him locked up like this.
-It's hardly Azkaban. I'm sure he'll be fine. Besides, didn't you leave him practically every issue of The Prophet from the past year?
-Hardly. I'm thinking about asking Luna for some from the Quibbler. It's hardly factual, but maybe it will help him with his mood? After everything he's just been through, it's the least I can do.
One of the things Theo loves about her, the constant need to always keep her friends happy. And clearly, it's not only her friends, but resurrected Death Eaters too.
He studies her. She gives a very convincing act, pretending to pay attention to their professor. She really is the most amazing girl he has ever laid eyes on.
He warmly covers her hand and whispers in her ear, "I love you, you know that?"
She stiffens and turns to him, mouth agape. It is the first time he's ever said it out loud.
"I want a foot of parchment done on the advantages of the updated Futhorc from each of you by next lesson," Professor Babbling concludes.
The rest of the students collect their things and proceed to empty out the room. Hermione, however, stays frozen to her spot. Theo's soft grin starts to falter with how long it takes for her to respond.
Professor Babbling approached them with a stern expression. "Although, I'm happy my top two students are getting along, it may be best if you two separate for the next lesson."
Hermione snaps out of her haze to look at the witch. "Oh, I don't think that's necessary Prof—"
"It wasn't a request, Miss Granger. Whatever the two of you have going on, I prefer you keep it out of the classroom."
"Understood," Theo assures her and lets Hermione's hand go. "Come on Hermione, we're going to be late to our next lesson."
"I'm sorry if I said something to upset you," Theo offers after they are out of the room. It does hurt that she didn't say it back to him immediately, but he tries not to take it too personally.
"No. It's just… I wasn't expecting… Well, that," Hermione confesses, "Especially not there, of all places."
"Oh!" Ok, he can understand that. Merlin, of course. How could I have been such an idiot? "Not to put pressure on you, but—"
"Look," Hermione interjects, but searching for his hand all the same. "I really don't want to have this conversation in the hall. Can we put a pin in it until we are done with our classes today?"
He nods, understanding full well that she's formulating an entire essay in her head on the subject.
"Good, meet me in the library after supper." And with that, she leans in on her tiptoes and kisses him lightly on the cheek before taking off on her way to her charms class.
"I love you, you know that?"
The question keeps bouncing around in her head as she watches Professor Flitwick demonstrate the Water-Making spell. Which normally, she would find ironic, given the current circumstances.
Part of her already knows how strong Theo's feelings are. Everything he does has either been with her or for her. He's always tentative to her emotions. Even in the face of his so-called 'friends', he's defended her.
The other part, however, can hardly believe it. She's been so wrapped up in the upcoming war that she hasn't had time to really think about it. Somehow, in between classes, research, and planning, someone has fallen in love with her. Not just someone, but someone from her opposing house. Someone who, until this year, she had barely spoken a word to.
Of course, she feels the same. There is this comfortable feeling of completeness when she's around him. She doesn't even have to think about it, it just is. She smiles. Yes, She loves him back.
Hermione turns to Neville, who is doing quite well—with his new wand—at casting the Water-Making spell. "I have a request for you."
"Ok…?" he asks, placing his wand down on his desk, giving her his full attention.
"I'm wondering if you could ask Luna for some back issues of the quibbler? I'd do it myself, but you're better at finding her than I am."
"I specifically remember you saying that it's a nonsense publication." He uses air quotes to emphasise his meaning.
"Oh." She did say that, didn't she. "Well I… remember seeing an article about good luck charms… once. I can't remember which issue it was though. I thought it might be useful." She lies through her teeth.
"I suppose I can." He considers her for a moment. "You're acting rather peculiar, Hermione. You seem a bit… You're acting a little like Luna."
She bit her lip. She supposes that she may look like her head is in the clouds. She's always had an issue with hiding her emotions, no matter how hard she tries. "Oh, I'm simply in a good mood today. That's all."
Neville gazes at her a moment longer before shrugging and goes back to his charms practice.
Hermione glances at the Slytherin table for a moment over supper. Theo's stormy green gaze finds her own and he gives her a small smile, casually winking at her. Her heart speeds up as she plays through a multitude of phrases and explanations she's been mulling over in her mind.
"What are you smiling at, Hermione?" Ron asks sarcastically and takes a seat in front of her, completely oblivious to where she is looking.
She studies him for a moment, clearly he isn't having a good day. "It's nothing, Ronald," she responds in an airy voice. An attempt to not feed into his foul mood.
"Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself. I'm positive I failed my potion's essay." He's being harsh as he avoids eye contact with her.
Part of her does feel bad for blowing him off the other night. But still, "I am sorry, Ron. But as I said before, I had prior arrangements the other night and my own work to do. I can't constantly hold your hand. Though I am sorry for the way I handled it—"
"You should be," he snaps back at her through gritted teeth. "Ever since you decided to stay here for the holidays, you've been avoiding Harry and me like an outbreak of dragonpox. Even before, you were iffy. But now, you don't even bother to acknowledge us. You're always going on about how you don't have time and that you'll see us later, but you never do. If it weren't for our classes, we would never even see you." This time, when he stopped talking, his hurt filled eyes peering into her. So much so that it hurt.
"I—"
"Won-Won!" Lavender practically skips to Ron's side as Parvati takes the empty seat by Hermione.
He grumbles back at her.
"Not having a good day?" Lavender's brows furrow as she presses for information, petting his arm affectionately.
However, anything further is drowned out by Parvati's attempts at her attention. "I saw Babbling talking to you and Nott after class. Is everything alright?"
Hermione side-eyes her, "Everything is perfectly fine."
"You know I'm here, if you ever need anything. Lav, too. We really do just want to help," Parvati is hesitant as she licks her lips. "You've been different, all year."
"Have I?" Hermione asks, giving off an air of indifference as she fiddles with her fork.
"Yes. Ever since you started hanging around that… Slytherin, you haven't been acting like yourself."
Hermione decides to indulge her. It's not like her happy mood could be ruined by some, erm… Self-reflection, anyway. However, what Ron had only just stated, made her wonder. "Please. By all means, enlighten me."
"Well you've always been a bit of a recluse. Always studying, always direct in your goals. You used to scold us for spending too much time with frivolous endeavours. At the very least, you were around to watch out for everyone in our house."
Hermione raises a brow.
"But now… you've been like a ghost. No one here feels like they've seen or spoken to you in months. Now I can't speak for anyone but myself, but I miss you. As much as it pains me to say it." Parvati finishes her explanation looking down at her plate of food in front of her.
"She's right," Lavender pipes in, still fussing over Ron. "We do miss you and all your swootyness."
Hermione isn't sure how to react. She hadn't thought she had been that withdrawn from everyone. "I… Thank you. It wasn't my intent to… disappear."
In reality, part of her is saddened by Parvati's genuine words. The other part however, realises that she needs to be more conscious, more careful about the amount of time she spends away from her friends and fellow housemates. Which would have been far easier to navigate around if they were having this conversation a few days ago, but now… but now, they, Theo and herself, are keeping a secret that most likely will not allow her to indulge Pavati's intentions.
Hermione walks along the never ending rows of books to seek out their secluded meeting spot. She's lost in thought when she hears soft footsteps approach her from behind. Their cadence is all too familiar, she doesn't even need to see him to know it's Theo. She smiles softly at the smell of his cedarwood cologne and turns around to greet him.
There is a slyness to Theo's demeanour, the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers and a mischievous glint in his eyes from behind the wavy fringe of his hair—he looks so vulnerable like this.
All Hermione can think to say is, "You came." As if he wouldn't.
Theo gives an airy laugh. "Of course I did. Did I ever give you indication that I wouldn't?" He rolls his eyes comically as he places a hand on her shoulder and runs it lovingly down her arm to take her hand.
"No. I just…" she nibbles on her bottom lip, seeking out her next words. "I'm far more nervous than I care to admit."
"Don't be. There's no need to be. It's just me here," he assures her with a loving smirk. Blast him for his abilities to make her melt.
"I know." She breathes in, collecting herself. "Did you mean it? What you said in Runes?"
"Yes. Although, I never intended on telling you in the middle of a lecture."
She wrinkles her nose in amusement. "I would hope not."
His hand lifts to her chin and traces her jaw with his thumb, his impossibly blue gaze boring into her own. "Not my best moment, I suppose. But it doesn't make it any less of the truth. I love you, Hermione Jean Granger."
The air in her lungs catches in her throat. Her heart beats so fast that she's almost woozy. "I'm not good at this. Feelings. And with everything going on… I haven't had a moment to think that deeply about them."
His smile falls with his hand on her face. "You don't feel the same, do you?"
"I…" She's scolding herself. Stop being stupid, Hermione. You feel the same as he does, just tell him and stop being so elusive. You're going to lose him if you don't. "I'm sorry. I know how this sounds."
"Then enlighten me." He bites out, not in a harsh way, mind you.
She squeezes his hand. "I had this whole thing planned out in my head, everything I was going to say. There is a lot I want to say. But now… it all seems so pointless, because I love you too."
His hand immediately goes back to where it was and the other comes up to pull her in, and when he kisses her, all of the unevenness she feels in her body comes to a halt. He's warm and he's solid. He grounds her to this moment. If she were to leave this world today, she wouldn't have any regrets.
"Really?" He whispers after taking a moment to detach their lips.
"With all my heart."
Regulus is grateful this, somehow conscious, room understands the basics of human hygiene.
He woke up that morning stuck with sweat to the cushions and feeling like he had been trampled by a herd of centaurs. His hair was so matted he couldn't even run his fingers through. And then, like magic—har, har—a wooden door appeared next to the fireplace.
The loo is small, but at least it has a decent shower.
He witnessed the murky water, mixed with blood and dirt, fall from him and onto the porcelain floor. He felt and still feels disgusted with himself. If only he could have realised his mistakes sooner, if only he hadn't pushed his brother aside… maybe he could have saved Sirius, in the end.
Truth be told, he was ready to die that day knowing that he would be giving Voldemort the grandest of 'Fuck Yous'. But alas, fate has always had a morbid way with playing him.
Yes, it was painful. After all, after everything he has done, he deserves nothing less than a gruesome death. Little did he know, he would come to be allied, possibly, by two highly unlikely rebels.
He fought them, at first.
Their grimy, skeletal fingers grabbed and sliced at his limbs as he scrambled to manually fight back. Pushing, punching his way out of the endless swarm of inferi. But the more he struggled to break free, the more they persisted in dragging him to the depths of the bottomless lake. Eventually, he had given in and accepted his demise.
But then.
The pressure around him broke and the many hands that held him captive vanished.
"That's… what the hell?" Regulus heard an unknown voice speak.
"Who is that?" came another.
"It can't be. How is that possible?"
"You know who this is?"
He feels a hand cautiously brush his hair from his face.
"Son of a bitch…"
He painfully opened his eyes. There was a young man crouching over him, someone he didn't recognize. Although he had some features that felt familiar, there wasn't enough to recall from where. The man's blue eyed gazed peered down at him in shock. His wavy, brown dishevelled hair could almost rival that of James Potter, but only almost. There was another person in attendance. A girl, with an equally concerned gaze and equally rumbled appearance.
It was too comical of a situation not to take advantage, and before he could think, he was cracking an exhausted smile and uttering, "Son of a witch, actually."
In hindsight, Regulus knows he should have recognized the young man as one from the House of Nott. Theodore did bear an uncanny resemblance to his father. That is, if you take away about 40 years or so and the unhinged, maniacal aura that he has come to associate with that of Thoros Nott.
Regulus was apprehensive, at first, when Theodore uttered his name. Part of him wanted to run, save himself from a possible attack. But Theodore, or Theo, was anything but his father. That being made astonishingly clear when it was revealed to him that the girl in their presence wasn't only Theo's muggleborn girlfriend, but an unofficial member of the Order of the Phoenix. However, based on what he has witnessed in the past 3 days, she appears to be acting outside of their current proceedings.
Funny. Until now, he hadn't given a thought to the possibility of anyone other than Voldemort's cohort or the Order being an active player in this never ending war. In his own time, everything around him had been a duality. It was either 'us against them', the dark against the light. But now that he was rummaging around the endless notes and meticulous plans both Theo and Hermione have compiled, he thinks that there may just be another alternative.
Regulus has buried himself so far deep in paperwork at this point that he doesn't hear the door open. So when he glances up to see Theo a mere footsteps away from him, he jumps in surprise.
Theo looks aloof as he strolls casually to the armchair and effortlessly transfigures it into a single after shrugging his robe off, practically faceplants down into the cushions.
Regulus rubs eyes. "Hey…?"
In response, Theo gives a weak wave in his direction, not bothering to raise his head.
"I take it you're staying the night," Regulus breathes. "Won't your roommates wonder where you are?"
Theo rolls over lazily to look at him. "No, and I'd prefer not to grace them with my presence tonight."
"It's that bad out there?" He asks, closing the book in his lap.
"Eh… your lovely cousin tends to omit his distaste for me even when he's not talking. I'd rather not allow it to spoil my otherwise splendid evening." Theo is practically beaming. From what, Regulus—rightfully so—has no clue.
But wait, "My cousin?"
"Draco Malfoy. Bloody annoying ferret. These days, at least."
That's right, Cissa's son. It feels odd to Regulus, knowing that his closest cousin now has a son who most likely is the same age as he, walking around with an actual personality. "I thought you said that you two were friends."
"Key word being were. I don't know what's gotten into him lately. Ignores me at every turn. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I plan to find out." Theo grabs one of the blankets that lay across the arm of the sofa and curls it around him. "That's far too much to think about right now."
Regulus doesn't say anything in response and instead chooses to watch his companion with intrigue. How is it that Theo could be out of his dormitory all night and not raise questions? Let alone go unnoticed.
"By the way, Hermione has Lovegood and Longbottom on a hunt for more reading material for you." Theo comments from his pillow. "So don't be surprised if she comes in this week with armfuls of nonsense."
"She's told them about me… that I'm here. How—"
"No. She hasn't told anyone about you. Your time-travelling arse has yet to be of subject to anyone outside of the three of us."
That's right. The three of us.
If we die before we wake
Who we are is no mistake
This is just the way we're made
You know what I mean, you on the team
Hymn - Kesha
