1 YEAR AGO
Alexander Nott kneeled before the edge the earth, ready to submit his life.
His blackened curls caught the brutal wind shear of the high north as he faced the woman he was so certain was his soulmate. Every loss and regretful decision had led him to her. She was both reason for the painful life he had endured and his guiding light. All hardships had prepared him for this sacrifice.
Her magic-less hands shook within his. He told himself her gentle shake was only due to the cold as she was dressed in a thin, white silk gown beneath the northern stars in the dead of winter, but in his heart Alex knew the tremble of her bones was the deep-rooted illness that drained her sparkling life with each tremor.
It would all be well though, soon enough. He would give her his own, even if she didn't know it yet.
An elderly witch stood above their kneeling frames as they faced each other. Her heels pressed against the edge of the jutting fjord. A mirrored lake rested below, shining in the golden hues and pink wisps of dusk. Alex imagined the woman he loved standing tall when this was all said and done. She would stretch her arms out with renewed vitality like a delicate angel, high above in the heavens as she looked over the ledge to the rewritten earth with all the time he had gifted her without hesitation.
"I love you," he mouthed as the witch recited an ancient spell above them — words the woman without magic could not begin to understand.
"I love you too," she whispered meekly with a grin, believing they were tying their hearts. It was the way of the witches he had told her, so those who wished to marry could burn eternally.
The wind blew her long, dark hair mercilessly across her reddened cheeks, yet she kept her hands in his. They were softened, pale petals in his rough, tattooed fingers that had delivered far too many heart-ending spells.
Luckily, her grace often washed away the worst of his self-hatred.
Her opal blue eyes lifted to meet his fiery gaze. They were clear pools of an undying love that might one day cleanse him entirely. It never ceased to stop his own heart when her eyes landed on him in such a way, like she might die for him too. He was undeserving of the woman who had mended his soul and conquered his demons, whether she was magic-veined or not.
Her head snapped to face the aged witch as she began to hum the last of the spell. Her grey hair and cream robes steadily lifted skyward as her chest vibrated. Silver threads emerged from her palms as her eyes threatened to roll back.
Alex felt her hands tense within his.
"Bria," he murmured. "Look at me. Don't be frightened."
He circled her palms with his thumbs. Life magic was always the most frightening. He wouldn't admit that his own stomach turned relentlessly.
He exhaled deeply with her to calm any nerves. She wasn't familiar with magic like this. He had only recently admitted to her that he was magic-born six months earlier, and he would never reveal the tarnished history of his house and its plagued ideology. She deserved better than the man he had been born to be.
"I didn't believe we'd quite literally be tying our heart together," she whispered wondrously as the silver threads binded them both tightly. The threads reached for each other, stretching thinly until they nearly teared.
Alex squeezed her petite hands, hiding his grimace. They weren't tying their hearts — that was impossible. He knew she might never agree to live longer if it meant living without him, but he couldn't breathe without her even if that made him selfish.
As the silvery threads twirled around their arms then joined together over their folded hands, Alex inhaled sharply. He winced in agony as if his own thread of life had been snapped and broken. The pain of death reverberated through each singular nerve, relaying to the other how many beats they had left to give his cursed heart.
The silver ties faded along with the last ray of daylight. The sharp pain receded, although a dull ache remained in the back of his neck within the bones of of his spine. Her death was settling comfortably into a new home.
His vision settled, then he smiled widely for her, revealing his charming dimples despite the deterioration that was spreading within his marrow. Tears flowed down her heart-shaped cheeks. She took a full breath and laughed in disbelief.
"Is this what forever feels like?" She tilted her head back in bliss, mistaking the relief for a newly wedded high.
He reached for her cheek, now warmed with new, precious life — his life. He pressed his lips to her temple as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"I will always be with you," he answered softly.
He couldn't bear the thought of her returning to these cliffs one day, alone with a new perspective of the words he had just spoken.
She pushed her fingers through his hair then nuzzled into his chest.
The witch opened her eyes with a sudden jolt. They rolled forward, landing on his fierce gaze. Alex opened his mind to her.
"You have 18 months, traded for 18 years. It was all you had to give," the witch spoke across his thoughts.
Alex covertly nodded, kissing the top of Bria's dark hair.
"Make peace, damned son."
"Thank you."
— — — — — — — — —
[Friday, January 10th, 11:16PM]
I'm home and safe. I love you.
[Saturday, January 11th, 10:36PM]
Still here. Sending my love because I promised. I'm so very sorry for everything, Dahlia.
[Sunday, January 12th, 10:18PM]
Nothing new. Love you.
[Monday, January 13th, 10:09PM]
I'm fine. Love you.
— — — — — — — — —
Theo sat on the pitched roof of his manor beneath the high moonlight. It was yet another sleepless night. He breathed in another drag of his third cigarette when a gust of wind pummelled into him, beating against his bare chest and knotting his shortened curls.
"Looking for me?" He mumbled to the wind with a cheeky grin.
It reshaped the smoke that left his lips into tiny dragons.
"I know. She's beautiful, isn't she?"
The wind cut against his cheek as if angered he had risked his life to rescue the slumbering dragon in the forest beyond. Her warm, snoring puffs danced every few moments above the trees.
"I named her Valeria. Was she an old friend of yours?"
Theo blew out the warmed nicotine, giving the wind a means to respond. If formed dancing broken hearts with the smoke.
"I'm sorry for your loss. How is her stubborn daughter treating you these days?"
The wind didn't move not even a single ruffle through his hair.
"Yeah? Me too," Theo sighed, knowing all too well how earth-shattering it felt to be ignored by Dahlia.
She had so poetically told him just the another night that he was a waste of her time — and of her star's whispers. Her love was a weapon wielded. She beat against his heart mercilessly.
"I'm sure she's just busy with classes, my friend. She'll step outside to see you soon. You make everything a bit too chilly, you know?" He whispered amongst the gentle howls in the distance. The Wolfwood had laid dormant for a hundred years, until Dahlia had stepped foot into it last fall. She had cruelly claimed the land only to abandon it.
The wind licked his cheek in response. Theo smiled, flashing it his infamous dimple for free. There was nothing he wished to gain from the wind except its companionship.
Theo spotted his black owl soaring towards him, nearly blending with the night. He swooped overhead, then banked to land beside him with a letter between his beak.
"Hello, Nero," Theo cooed.
He put out his cigarette, then gently brushed the owl's feathers. He removed the grey parchment from the owl's beak. Theo rolled his eyes as he recognized the silver penmanship upon the grey paper. Their house seal was more than ostentatious, in his humble opinion.
You fucking prick. I bet you're reading this with chocolate-covered fingers next to an empty pack of cigarettes and bottle of whisky, you sad fuck. My father will have everything your brother has requested secured in three weeks time. Can you return to school then?
Because I know you'll ask, Eloise still hates you and Dahlia still refuses to speak of you — at least to me. I hear she never shuts up of your mess to her closer confidants. Unfortunately for you, that now includes Malfoy. Stop fucking up and return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Our quidditch team is suffering and Blaise can only poison so many Gryffindor players. Your miserable presence is missed. Even the second-years are eager to be kicked by their favorite bully.
Fuck off,
XG
Theo shook his head. A grin had secretly found its way to his mouth. He called forth a quill with a summoning charm and wrote upon the same parchment, below Xavier's own ink.
Excuse you, and I prefer vodka as of late for my moping. I will see what can be done. I fucking hate it here now. I wish to return to Hogwarts, hopefully soon. Narcissa has vouched for me to Dumbledore and secured refuge when the time comes, but I'll be in a musty coffin before I admit you might have been right that day you smacked me with a bloody stick. My guess is she went to Snape, who must be keeping Dumbledore well informed. Suspicious?
Dahlia has been short with me. Would it be despicable of me to ask you to put in a good word for me with her? Rita Skeeter has gone silent in all regards to Dahlia after that horrendous puff piece. I'm assuming Malfoy has everything to do with it, which means they only have more to hide. Would it be even more awful of me to ask you to put in that good word when the opportune time presents itself? You'll know when you see it. I'll be back to mop the floor with Gryffindors and second-years soon.
Go fuck yourself,
TN
Theo rolled up the parchment and passed it to his owl.
"Return to sender, please," he sighed.
The owl took off into the night. Theo watched him soar, wishing the owl could take him home along his smooth feathers.
He picked up the journal that had laid open beside him for hours. It taunted him with its blank pages. Dahlia hadn't sent word in days. He had come up here in hopes of finding some divine inspiration that might give him the words to finally reconcile with her, but he wasn't sure there were any to fix it all.
The only realization he had come to was that he was tired. Dahlia only seemed to be using their journals as a means to punish him for his mistakes — not that he didn't deserve it, but it did leave a festering resentment as she had made him promise to write to her.
Theo shut his journal, unable to subject himself to her rejection tonight. They had already broken all their promises. What was one more?
—
Shelf 612 was far from spectacular. If anything, it was average. Whatever Theo had found that had been groundbreaking enough for him to keep to himself was hidden in plain sight.
"I can't believe we woke up early for this," Dahlia complained, leaning against the end of the bookshelf on the first floor of the library. She glanced out to the rows of empty desks. It was far too early for students to consider studying.
Eloise meandered down the shelf, running a finger across the spines of the textbooks. Some whined while others purred.
"I thought we might have to break into something, or break something? I didn't think he quite literally meant shelf 612 of the actual library."
"The restricted section isn't numbered in such a way. Whatever he found 'enlightening' was here," Dahlia replied, picking at her cuticles.
"In the Bygones of Botany section?" Eloise countered with a small laugh.
Dahlia shrugged.
"Sour mood?" Eloise raised a brow.
"No," Dahlia grumbled. She knocked her head back against the bookcase and tilted her head to face Eloise. "He didn't write last night," she sighed in frustration.
"So write to him. Works both ways, you know..."
She grinned slyly before pausing on an older book with a navy cover.
"I hate him," Dahlia bristled.
"No, you don't."
"Draco wouldn't like it," Dahlia mumbled. It was a pathetic excuse.
"Draco is stuck with you for eternity whether he likes it or not, and I doubt he would be that angry with you for checking in on his best friend who has been forced into a glorified cult ran by the darkest wizard of all time who delivers orders with the help of a mammoth serpent — that he speaks to."
She pulled out the navy book. The title had rubbed off entirely. "I didn't even mention Azkaban..."
Dahlia shushed her then snatched the book.
"Fine. I'll write to him, but I won't like it," Dahlia growled.
She pointed to a yellow book on the top shelf. "Get that one too."
Eloise patted her head, mocking her height before reaching up on her toes.
"What will you actually do when he finally returns?" Eloise smirked, pulling down the hefty textbook on tinctures.
"Become one with moaning myrtle. Deceased from the humiliation of it all by then if he makes well on the negative ten percent chance he's returning," she muttered.
Eloise rolled her eyes. She threw the heavy textbook to Dahlia. "You are awfully grim for someone who has Draco Malfoy in their bed every single night."
"I know," Dahlia grunted as she caught the textbook.
"Let's go." She nodded her head towards the empty tables.
"It's hard when we're always refraining from each other in public. It makes me feel like we're doing something wrong...like we aren't a couple," Dahlia admitted.
"Dahlia," Eloise snickered. "You two are quickly becoming the worst kept secret. Do you know how many times he's been caught wandering around Ravenclaw Tower? It only take one shrill and obsessive third-year to catch him sneaking out of our dormitory to confirm the pile of rumors."
Eloise crossed her legs and began flipping through the ancient, untitled book.
Dahlia slouched into a chair and covered her face. "What are the Slytherins saying? What are Theo's friends saying?"
Eloise stilled. "No one would ever speak it to Draco or Blaise, and gods help them if they ever voice it to Theo once he's returned-"
"He's not returning," Dahlia cut in sharply.
Eloise glanced to the students slowly trickling into the library. "Well it's not kind. I'm sure you can guess their opinions on the speculation."
Dahlia didn't need her to voice it. She knew they thought her a slag. It was one thing to be carefree and promiscuous, it was another to ruin a friendship and jump from one to another.
Eloise took her hand from across the table. "It's not that bad. People think he's awful for possibly breaking up with you over holiday. Some even think he cheated on you first, so he deserves it. It will all blow over."
"Is that the 'not that bad' speculation then?" Dahlia scoffed. She leaned back in her chair, bouncing her knee. "You know what?"
people stole glances as her voice escalated.
"I don't care. I didn't give a fuck last semester, and I don't give a fuck now. This is the new, fuckless me." She pointed at her chest proudly to her chest.
"Yeah!" Eloise slammed her fist against the table. The few nearby students jumped in alarm. "I'm all about the new fuckless Dahlia! She fucks!"
"I fuck!" Dahlia proudly exclaimed.
"Yeah, you fuck! Fuck it up, Dahl!" Eloise slapped Dahlia's hand in a high five.
A group of fifth-years snickered loudly behind them.
Dahlia blushed. "I mean, not like that..." She whispered to Eloise.
"No, like that too." Eloise nodded. "Let's fuck up these books now though, shall we?"
Dahlia nodded.
"Anything mildly related between the Fates and botany?" Eloise asked.
Dahlia shrugged. "Tree roots? They seem to be important." She paused before adding, "Theo had admitted to flirting with a Hufflepuff who was good at botany for something he needed that he couldn't acquire himself. A bit of a coincidence he led us to section 612, don't you think?"
Eloise's face twisted in disgust. "That makes me livid, but yes."
Dahlia leaned forward. "You know, we could skip this research and have one of the boys shake her down instead?"
Eloise narrowed her eyes. "Are you only suggesting that because you dislike her?"
Dahlia snorted. "This is life or death. The construct of our timeline is possibly in peril at the hands of a diabolical quidditch star. You would suggest I have ill intentions when the cosmos are crying black matter, the scales are tipped and the gods are-"
Dahlia gasped in excitement. "Oh hey, Hermione!"
The Gryffindor turned in surprise, then waved uncomfortably.
Dahlia patted the open seat next to her. "Want to sit with us?"
Hermione glanced around as if the question would lead to an elaborate prank.
"I'm being quite serious," Dahlia added, mortified that she might be rejected. She kicked Eloise to chime in with something that might sell their friendship.
Eloise widened her eyes to convey 'what the fuck' before smiling pleasantly. "We know we have horrid taste in men, so no need to disagree on anything."
Hermione shifted awkwardly. "I actually need to find a book on a specific star system for Astronomy, but maybe-"
"I can help you with Astronomy!" Dahlia interjected. This was now beyond Harry's hint that Hermione was terribly curious about her Sight. It was quickly becoming a matter of pride as Hermione grimaced.
"She's so good with stars," Eloise exclaimed proudly, patting Dahlia's hand supportively.
"I can even speak to them," Dahlia admitted quietly, realizing all too late how strange that sounded.
Hermione tilted her head and laughed as if the conversation was becoming excruciating.
"Friday evening in the tower? Around midnight, yeah?" Dahlia asked pleasantly. She was too far invested to give up now.
"Um, sure! I'd like that," Hermione answered kindly with a smile that Dahlia couldn't read.
"See you then," she mumbled before turning. She took large strides as if she was panicked. She rubbed her forehead as if horrified she had agreed to meet with her.
"Oof," Eloise slumped further into her chair. "Painful to watch, my friend."
"Why can't we ever get on with Gryffindors?" Dahlia whined.
"It's just not meant to be," Eloise replied bleakly.
"Ugh, I really fucked it there."
"Yeah, and not in that good fuckless way. Come on," Eloise stood, collecting the books. "We'll ask the boys to handle the Hufflepuff. I'm too embarrassed to stay here now," she sighed.
Eloise tugged on Dahlia's arm as she sat limp in self pity.
"Journal, then breakfast." Eloise pulled her up harshly.
"Then Draco," Dahlia added as they strolled out of the library.
"No. Journal, breakfast, class, homework, then Draco."
"Fine, compromise. Journal, breakfast, class, then Draco, homework, then more Draco." She laughed as she pushed open the door to the library.
"Whatever! Fine! Here — take the blue book for some light reading." Eloise handed the crumbling book to Dahlia.
The tips of her fingers danced with electricity of premonitions as she touch the cover once more. She flipped through the pages briefly. Of course, it was always the smelly books with ripped parchment and illegible handwriting that held all the answers.
— — — — — — — — —
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:20 AM]
Is everything okay?
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:22 AM]
Yes.
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:23 AM]
Why didn't you bother to write to me last night?
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:24 AM]
I don't know, Dahlia. I'm sorry.
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:26 AM]
Was it only a test? To see if I would write to you instead?
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:26 AM]
Sure. That is exactly how awful I am. Is that what you wish to hear?
[Wednesday, January 15th, 7:27 AM]
No, you prick.
— — — — — — — — —
Theo trudged down the hall of his manor, wishing he had invested in curtains. He used to love the early morning sun as it meant a new day was upon him, and he was another day closer to the perfectly tailored life he had painstakingly planned during the years he had suffered alone.
Like all Nott men, he was born both clever and charming — although some might argue foolish and cunning instead. Theo knew he was different from the others; his father, his brother and the men who came before him.
He had hope — an insufferable need to be better than the men who came before him. He liked to imagine it was a gift instilled from his selfless mother, but he knew deep down within himself that his hope was a curse. The men of the House Nott were quite possibly all hexed in one way or another.
Theo turned around the corner, his heel squeaking against the checkered floors. He swaggered slowly through sunlit corridor. He would be training for quidditch right now if he were at school, and most likely not still drunk from the night before. Dahlia would be waiting for him afterwards to greet him with a bright smile and a routine kiss. He wondered if Draco had taken that from him too.
It was all too repulsive. He looked directly into the sun through the glass panes of the window with an insincere smile that morphed into sneer.
He was dreadfully stuck here. The fine furniture and priceless chandeliers above only made the manor all the more ghostly. He hadn't realized how much life Dahlia had painted across these walls — when she hadn't hate him.
His heart thundered in a burst of anger. Theo tossed the empty bottle of vodka into the air then kicked it against the wall. He laughed bitterly as it shattered.
He heard Tatters grumble in the distance.
Theo sighed, closing his eyes briefly. He couldn't stomach disappointing the one creature who was condemned in servitude and chained to all his awful decisions.
"Sorry!" He called. His slur echoed through the long halls. "I'll clean it up."
Theo bent down to wave a hand over the shards of glass. As they pieced back together, Theo had a sober moment of clarity. He stood lazily.
"Tatters! Do you know if Alex is home?" He yelled through the empty manor.
Theo tossed the vodka bottle from hand to hand as he waited for a reply with furrowed brows. He startled when the elf instead materialized a step in front of him. The vodka bottle cracked upon the floor once more as Theo reached for his chest.
"Fucking hell!" He coughed.
"Master is gone. Again." Tatters shook his head in disapproval.
"Shocking!" Theo griped. "Please do tell me when he has returned this time."
Tatters bowed before disapparating swiftly, not bothering to ask if Theo had any needs to be met. That elf was growing too comfortable within these walls.
Theo ran a frustrated hand through his messy curls. He stepped over the shattered liquor bottle and crept towards the front wing of the manor. He tossed a lazy hand behind him to repair the bottle once more.
Alex was gone so often he began to wonder if his brother would even notice if he returned to Hogwarts. The idea was tempting, but his impending death kept his feet planted firmly to these miserable grounds. He only wished his brother shared the same sentiment; actually wanted to be in his presence now that his days were numbered. Theo was only called upon when he was deemed useful, and Alex had yet to fulfill his promise to help him create a new time-turner.
He had hardly divulged any details behind his grim circumstances, which is probably why the news refused to settle. In the deepest hours, Theo wondered if he had just simply already grown accustomed to living without him.
They had sworn loyalty to each other above all else. Had they not? Their blood was more binding than any ties, yet Theo had never felt more distrustful. Alex rarely disclosed where he was going or where he had been. He thought of Dahlia's warning more and more as the days passed.
Theo crept up the vast, wooden staircase in the center of the grand entrance of the manor. He paused as he reached the first landing, where the stairs veered both left and right and led to the second floor. He rarely went left, as his quarters were down the hall to the right. Worstly, both his brother's rooms and mother's belongings could be found in the west wing.
He shuffled towards the less worn staircase, wondering what he might now find in those rooms. If his brother didn't seem to completely trust him, maybe he shouldn't trust him either. Theo took a decisive step on the left stair. He glanced around precariously before continuing on with a twist in his gut.
He padded down the richly carpeted hall, running his finger through the dust upon the wooden panelling. He pursed his lips; his mother never would have allowed the dirt to accumulate like this. All he had ever wanted was to do right by his mother, yet he could hardly maintain the home they had shared during the limited, precious years they had together. It was a shame he could never quite stomach walking these corridors. He wanted to believe her jasmine scent still lingered after all this time, but he knew it was only him mind wishing it so.
He slowed and turned to face the dark wooden door that led to Alex's bedroom. This was traitorous, only because he knew he would find something displeasing. He raised his palms to the carved wood, sensing any wards.
His fingertips buzzed as they brushed against magic.
Theo stiffened. What did Alex wish to hide behind wards from him? This was their home. Theo left his own door ajar as he often forget to close it behind him either due to laziness or drunkenness.
"Tatters?" He whispered, closing his eyes as to summon his elf.
The elf apparated to his side no less than a moment later. His eyes went wide as he noticed their unusual location. Tatters quickly collected himself. He cleared his throat, stood tall and tucked his hands behind his back. "Master Theodore?"
Theo scowled. "Don't make this weird."
Tatters nodded downwards to his plump belly, although his pointed nose remained high.
"Can you keep a secret between us?"
"To the grave, master Teddy," the elf replied quickly, lifting his chin high.
"Okay," Theo nodded, squatting down to meet his plump elf at eye level. "I need you to sneak into-"
Tatters vanished. Theo stilled as he heard grumblings on the other side of the bedroom door. The elf swore as what sounded like a pile of books crashed to the floor. A few thumps echoed in Theo's direction before the door swung open.
Theo shrugged. "Well that was unexpectedly simple."
He sat on the crimson carpet lining the hall, a step away from the threshold.
"Check the desk drawers," Theo whispered.
The elf shuffled through the desk wordlessly. Throwing aside piles of parchment and smashing trinkets to the floor.
"For fuck's sake! Don't make a mess!"
"I apologize sir." The elf snapped and the desk reorganized itself. Tatters turned to him. "Where now, master?"
Theo pressed his fingers against the bridge of his pointed nose. He personally kept his journal, his most valuable asset, within his nightstand and locked away with a curse.
"Check the bedside table. Be careful," he whispered.
With a wiggle of his fingers, the elf blasted the wooden table into a hundred pieces. Theo quickly ducked beneath his arms.
"Tatters! What did I say?"
"I apologize sir, again." The elf looked towards the pile of destruction. "I don't believe there was anything of importance within the bedside table."
"Obviously!" Theo spat. "Fix it!"
The table mended itself with a wave of the elf's hand. Theo pointed towards the armoire for the elf to search next. Tatters side stepped several piles of discarded clothing — and strange muggle weapons. Empty cups of tea and beer bottles littered the table tops.
"His quarters are revolting," Theo muttered.
"The smell is quite despicable from within, master."
The wooden floor squeaked unnaturally beneath Tatter's step as he jumped between piles of clean or dirty clothing — Theo couldn't be sure.
"Wait." Theo held up a hand. "Go back. Step there again."
Tatters obeyed, shifting his weight upon the floorboard in question.
Theo grinned widely. He snapped his ringed fingers. "Pry it up. Quickly," he ordered.
The elf grunted and pulled upon the wood with all his weight until he fell back with the single sliver of flooring. "Tatters is invincible!" He exclaimed.
Theo clapped supportively as the elf threw it to the side, then peered into the dark hole beneath the hardwood floor. He reached inside, his bum flailing upwards before pulling out a medium-sized black box.
Theo motioned excitedly for him to bring it closer.
Tatters waddled over swiftly with the box, setting it down opposite of Theo across the threshold. Theo drummed his thighs as his elf lifted the lid to reveal the contents.
Theo stilled. His vision blurred for a quick, sickly moment before he composed himself. He thought it might vomit from the sudden grief.
"Put it back," he whispered, deadpan and eyes unmoving from his mother's delicate handwriting.
The elf looked down to the piles of letters within the black box beneath an enchanted rolodex — the same one the Order had wanted Alex to take from the Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve.
He had lied to them. Instead stolen the list of those permitted to enter the Malfoy Manor without invitation — Death Eaters — and kept it for himself. Theo didn't much care for that now though.
"Lady Emma..." the elf sadly murmured as he placed the lid back on the box.
Theo winced. Her name spoken was like pinching a bruise. Why did Alex have her letters?
"Master Teddy, I-"
Theo stood at once. He gripped the wall as the world spun. He shouldn't have drank so much. His mother would despise him for it; say he was growing up to be like his worthless father.
Theo ground his teeth as he glared down at the exposed Dark Mark. He rubbed his forearm against his bare chest, as if it might smudge and smear in impermanence. He was the worst thing his mother could imagine — a nasty drunk and a Death Eater.
"Put the box back, then leave the room as you found it."
The elf nodded quickly. Theo rubbed his mouth and patted his cheek as if the action would sober him more quickly. His mother would hate him. She would shake her head, then kindly hide her disappointment.
"And Tatters?"
The elf looked back.
"Throw out the liquor."
—
The Malfoy Manor still managed to feel like home. Theo had never hated it more as he glanced out the tall windows, paneled in pristine, smudgeless shades of emerald. They painted him a shade envious in the falling light of the sun.
Small voices echoed beyond the withering ballroom. It was a shame to see it fall to pieces so soon. The painted dragons of the ceiling hid in terror and the portraits were terribly silent. He remembered Draco and himself used to play in here as children when it was far past midnight and too late to go outside. These very windows once remained open, spreading outwards to the expansive gardens beyond. His mother used to chase them through the gravel and rose bushes while the other women gossiped upon the balcony. He hadn't realized it then, but maybe his mother had been a black sheep too.
The sound of a woman's high-heeled shoes trailed behind him.
"You brought a beast to mangle my gardens?" She sighed.
Theo cracked a small smile as he turned to face Narcissa Malfoy. They stared at each other for a painful moment.
"My sweet boy," she whispered, closing the distance and cupping his cheeks.
"Won't he be proud?" Theo sneered, angling his eyes towards the new dragon.
He was a well of emotion, brimming with disappointment. Unsure of what it was all even worth anymore as he himself had proven to be worthless to the women he loved most. He hadn't realized that he hoped to be a hero.
Narcissa forced a smile, but it died quickly as Theo's heart swelled too much and he threatened to nearly crumple into her arms. He felt all the losses too greatly today.
She took his hands and squeezed tightly. "I'm proud," she whispered, defiant.
Theo's hands shook within hers, the weight of his world threatening to tumble from his shoulders. He shook his head, clenching his mouth shut tightly as Narcissa didn't deserve to be disappointed either.
She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her.
"Theodore, I raised you too, and I am proud," narcissa repeated. She pressed a black nail against his chest. "You are good. Your heart is good."
"How do you know I'm not truly awful like him?" Theo murmured, withdrawing his hands as if he might poison her with his touch.
Narcissa swallowed, placing her hands on his forearm to prove that he wasn't a toxin, and as if she might absorb the blackness within him.
"It didn't weigh on your father like it does on you," she whispered, her eyes saddened at the sight of the Dark Mark on such young, unblemished skin.
"I killed someone," Theo blurted. "And I don't think I care," he muttered barely above his breath, voice cracking. "He was going to-"
Narcissa closed her eyes, masking her sorrow. Theo couldn't keep the shame from twisting his features. He had disappointed her too. He couldn't stand it.
Narcissa pulled him into her embrace as Theo stood numbed.
"You do care, and I forgive you," Narcissa replied with more love than he deserved.
"I didn't even think twice," he admitted in a low whisper.
"Let me forgive you, Theodore. You were always the sweetest of my boys, despite what anyone thinks."
Theo's shoulders slumped. He clenched his teeth, refusing to cry.
"You are good, and you will survive this." She smiled like she believed it.
Theo nodded, still unable to crack a smile. His eyes were casted downwards shamefully to the marble floor. Narcissa meddled with his hair, smoothing out his disheveled curls.
"You smell like sour liquor, darling."
It was a punch to the chest. Theo doubled over as he wiped his nose. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm going to quit it. I promise. I know my mother would hate it. I'm sorry," he whispered.
Narcissa cupped his cheeks again. "Stop it. Theodore, what did I say?"
"I'll survive this," Theo answered reluctantly.
"And?"
"And I am good," he murmured, terrified of the sob that threatened to break free. He didn't know if he would ever believe it.
"Good." She patted his cheek before turning back to the window.
"Now what's its name?" She sighed.
"Her name is Valeria," he mumbled awkwardly. "Dahlia's mother loved dragons...she told me once."
"She did," Narcissa sighed with a twinge of nostalgia. "I'm sure Dahlia likes that very much."
Theo inhaled sharply as his arm began to burn sharply. It felt as if thorns tore beneath the marked flesh. Narcissa rubbed his shoulder, alarmed by his sudden wince.
"It's time then?" She asked apprehensively.
Theo nodded as his mark burned on.
"Yes."
—
Theo prayed to the gods in a rare moment of respect, wishing he might hold on to an ounce of drunkenness from this morning.
The drawing room had become a miserable hole since the Dark Lord had chosen to shack up in the Malfoy Manor. The magnificent room had been stripped of all life, although the ominous grandeur remained.
Only two portraits hung on either side of the great, roaring fireplace. They most likely were immovable as their inhabitants stood frozen in tedious curvature of the stone fireplace reached the tall ceilings, and only two wondrous chandeliers swayed gently overhead. Enchanted florals used to hang upon them in decorative, seasonal styles. Now the iron lay bare, and the golden flames burned half-heartedly.
No decorations nor folded hands were place upon the polished wooden table as far as it stretched.
Theo focused his gaze on his brother while they waited for the Dark Lord to make a dramatic entrance. Alex had chosen to sit across from him this evening. Narcissa sat to right in a motherly fashion, and to his shock, Devereaux Aldair had chosen to sit to his left. Theo mentally listed over a dozen smug greetings he might say Dahlia's father if they weren't committed to such boring silence.
To think he thinks himself better than me. Thinks I'm unacceptable for Dahlia even though the fucking dinosaur is sitting at the same-
"How is Dahlia," Deveraux's deep voice floated across his mind.
What the fuck. Theo coughed quietly, hiding his startle.
He shrugged discreetly in response. He was almost certain he was tied with her despicable father for first place on Dahlia's shit list. How should he know how she was doing anymore? By Theo's current circumstances — demoted to her ex boyfriend surrounded by witches and wizards who wished to torture her senselessly against his will — the obvious answer was that she was not well. It gave him a sweet satisfaction to know that he wasn't the only man she wished to ignore.
"You should learn to protect your mind. Quite foolish of you to remain so exposed," Deveraux jeered. It reminded Theo of how his own father used to constantly scold him.
Theo hated that he was right.
Alex narrowed his eyes curiously as Theo's lip curled. Their gazes remained locked, unwilling to risk a slight from the Dark Lord shall he enter when their guard is down.
Alex wore a mask of indifference, almost too comfortable in this dreary environment. Theo's mind drifted to the stolen list of names he had found in his room. It could so easily be used to condemn every single person who sat at this table and others outside these walls to a rotting cell in Azkaban.
He had taken it from the Death Eaters, yet withheld it from the Order. What was his end goal? To trade it to someone who might be able to save his skin from looming death? He had seemed more than content to let himself die when he had confided in him. He was stubborn and refused his help in finding a solution that might save him. He had less than six months left on this plane. Was he equally terrified beneath his cool exterior?
Theo contemplated if him and his brother were more alike than he realized. Maybe Alex was just as lawless and without strict cause as he was. He had always thought his brother so righteous and would sooner die than answer to the Dark Lord. It dawned that maybe Theo had built an inaccurate picture of his brother in his absence on the premise of what he needed to believe at the time. The facade rotted away as the days passed, revealing a terribly grey heart that was similar to his own.
Theo held his breath as he heard a monstrous hiss. He saw a great coiling body slide upon the priceless table in his left periphery. Theo quickly understood this room had been stripped of all finery in a display of power over the wealth of the Malfoys.
Theo steadied himself as the serpent's powerful, wide body slithered past him. Luckily, it seemed he would have the butt of the snake this evening. It's hideous eyes made him far too uncomfortable.
The Dark Lord made his presence known as he arrived from the fireplace just behind his brother in a horrible screech of cracking air as he morphed from blackness.
The shadows trailed behind his bare feet as he slowly stepped behind the row of Death Eaters who sat nervously. Theo became all too aware of his own body language. He fought the urge to tense, and reminded himself to breath. How Dahlia managed to find the good in the world — in people — after looking into his reddened eyes upon his cracked skin like veined porcelain was beyond his understanding.
The Dark Lord slid into the seat at the head of the table with ease. Nagini bumped his hand as if he might pet her like a loyal pup, thrilled her master had returned home. Theo did his best to hide his disgust.
"What a beautiful gift on the lawns, I see. Who tamed such an asset?" He hissed proudly.
Theo remained quiet and still until Alex nodded as if he expected him to speak up and reply. A fresh hit of adrenaline pumped through his heart at the notion of calling such attention to himself. He spoke before his mind could make much sense.
"The vampires in the east answer to you, My Lord. They were happy to oblige," Theo found himself answering strongly, his eyes still locked on his brother.
Alex nodded ever so slightly in approval.
The Dark Lord also chuckled in approval. "What a wonderful job, my boy. You show so much promise. Dare I say, like myself when I was your age," Voldemort answered lightly.
The words landed grotesquely. Theo's gut twisted as he realized The Dark Lord had been closer to human than an immortal once. Maybe he hadn't always look so beastly and sinister — and that is exactly how he had gotten here. Maybe it had started for him as just a loveless boy who dreamed of breaking worlds too.
But I'd do it for her — not power. That's different, isn't it?
Theo felt a cold sweat on his neck. He thought he might vomit. Theo fumbled for words of gratitude. Narcissa put a gentle hand his knee while Devereaux nudged him beneath the table with his foot.
Alex quickly interjected as the silence stretched on. "My Lord, the dragon will be a powerful asset in our efforts at Azkaban. We have news." Alex brought his folded hands to the table boldly.
Theo wondered if he might one day be prideful, like his brother.
"Yes?" The Dark Lord pressed in annoyance.
"Your loyal servants shall be freed in one month's time," Alex declared.
Theo furrowed his brow. He had thought they might go back to the Order before arranging such an event that would shift the war. What was he doing?
"The dementors are prepared to abandon their post on February 13th," Devereaux added for clarity.
"Thank you, Devereaux," Alex remarked quietly.
Theo knew his brother well enough to spot the twist of annoyance in his features. It was subtle beneath his pleasant tone.
Voldemort stood and pressed his spidery fingers upon the table. His nails were cracked and black.
"This is the act of haste and dedication I expect from all of my servants. To think how proud your father will be to see all you've accomplished in such short time."
He turned his attention to Devereaux. "And what news is there of your gifted daughter?"
Theo thought his chest might cave in at the sudden change of topic.
Professor Snape emerged from the shadows behind the Dark Lord. His dark cloak moved like smoke at his feet. Theo's eyes narrowed in shock. Had he been here the whole time?
"Severus?" The Dark Lord grinned.
"Dahlia Aldair remains in the care of Albus Dumbledore, for now."
Theo saw it for what it was. He had saved Devereaux from having to speak on behalf of the hunt for his own daughter. Were they plotting together?
"May I offer a suggestion?" Snape drawled.
The Dark Lord stiffened, as did Narcissa and Devereaux at Theo's side. He had the impression they knew what was about to be offered as they shared a moments glance across him.
He was certain, they were all plotting something greater. Did his brother know?
"The boy should return to Hogwarts." Snape pointed a casual flip of hand in Theo's direction. "He can capture the girl on the evening we plan to invade the school through the cabinet. He then can leave with us and bring her here to you, My Lord. He can move through the castle and common rooms undetected. I've seen it myself as his professor."
The room fell into a tense silence as the Dark Lord contemplated the idea.
Severus pursed his lips. "The girl is fond of him. She'll leave with him willingly until it's too late," he added, selling the plan.
Theo nearly snorted. The idea that he would be able to drag Dahlia anywhere upon her own free will right now was laughable. A boggart would have better luck. Plus, he'd sooner run than bring her to the Dark Lord's feet for slaughter.
"Can Draco Malfoy not accomplish such a task?"
Narcissa swallowed her visible fear.
"He will need to focus all of his attention on Albus. Time will be limited, My Lord," Snape answered smoothly.
The Dark Lord rested back into his ornately carved chair, lips curling. It was if it nearly killed him that he hadn't thought of the plan himself.
"Very well. We shall have more to celebrate that evening," he finally answered briskly.
The air shifted with relief. Whatever Narcissa, Devereaux and Snape were plotting had gone as planned. Narcissa could barely hold in her smile.
"The dragon only answers to Theodore," Alex sighed.
Theo could kick his brother. All he wanted was to return to school as soon as possible. He missed Dahlia. He missed his friends. He missed feeling like he might amount to something.
Snape careened his neck in Alex's direction with a sneer. He let a beat of silence live so he might inform his brother of how irritating he found his presence.
"Then he will return after his mission is complete," he answered pointedly.
"Won't that be a bit too suspicious?" Alex asked, leaning back into his chair with palpable arrogance.
Don't punch him. You love him. Don't punch him.
"You have a time turning device, do you not? " Snape quipped, glaring at his brother as if he were both stupid and sloppy.
Theo got the impression that Alex had been far from his favorite student.
"We do," Alex nodded with a nasty smile. "Very well then."
Theo slumped with relief. At least his brother knew when to pick his battles, and at least he had solid time to figure out how to save his life before he would return to Hogwarts. He also needed all the precious time he could muster to sever Dahlia's bond to Draco. He had let himself toil in self pity for far too long.
The Dark Lord vanished without word.
Theo didn't wait to be dismissed by his elders. He cut through time and space with a precise crack, his apparition smoke now a deepened shade, nearly black.
He was now working against the clock, and had no time to spare.
— — — — — — — — — —
[Wednesday, January 15th, 11:53 PM]
I'll be better. I mean it this time, I promise. We will survive this.
