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Chapter 9
Pansy and the Campaign of a Thousand Little Touches
They have been at camp for a week. It seems like forever, though doesn't it? CW/TW: Theo goes to individual therapy and talks about his mother's murder at the hands of his father, so domestic violence, graphic violence and child abuse tags apply to this chapter. If you can't, then skip the section of Theo's individual therapy.
The songs for Chapter 9 are Baum - Hot Water
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Hayley Kiyoko - Girls Like Girls
track/3dNjUFt6EFU4Gq6Q5vfJqf?si=trtVbNI_QxOBVJqElsYA4Q
The pre-dawn light was barely visible as she cracked open her eyes. The pink tinge filtering in was just enough that it was waking her, regardless of how tired her body felt. It's too bloody early to be awake, she thought as she rolled over and covered her head with her pillow, trying to make everything as dark as possible. As she closed her eyes and burrowed further into her bed, Hermione let out a groan as the previous night flooded her mind.
Godric, she was spending too many mornings wanting to die of embarrassment after any time she spends associating with the Slytherins.. Associating? She scoffed at the euphemism in her own mind. She'd played with herself while she watched Theo cum in Malfoy's mouth - and they'd caught her at it, if she was wanting to be generous to herself, she could call it associating. Not sure which part was more humiliating, the being caught watching them or that Theo calling Draco a good boy had pushed her over the edge.
Sitting up and sighing, she discovered that the books Cordelia had given her were on the floor next to the bed. The blankets pooled at her waist as she bent over the side to snatch them up. "Choose More Than One Wand: A New Look at Magical Attraction", hm, couldn't have hit her current problem more square on the head if she'd tired. Flipping it open, Hermione could feel her eyes bulging and brows rising as she read through the first few pages.
0Introduction0
Historically, due to the limited population and traditionally low birth rates amongst Purebloods, relationships between three or more witches or wizards has been quite common. It's fallen out of practice since the first Wizarding War, but it's still not unheard of. My soul bonded husband and wife were both hugely influential in my writing of this book and I would like to thank them for their input and their editing. This book is written for those in or considering joining a relationship with two or more others. I hope you find my experiences helpful as you search for your own unique love story.
Hepsibeth Myrly, 1997.
Well, that seemed like an excellent start, Hermione thought and she looked through the chapter headings:
What is Ethical Non-monogamy?
What does Consent Mean in a Magical Community?
Communication is Key,
Needs vs Wants,
Creating Connections,
The Role of Magical Compatibility,
Bedroom Magical Applications.
Hermione let out a slow breath as she read the headings. It seemed like this was the perfect place to start getting answers and being able to form the right questions. Nothing quite put her at ease like research and Cordelia seemed to have put just the right book into her hands yesterday. And to top it off it was recently published. Hermione loved old books, she really did, but this
With nothing else to do since she'd woken up so early, she read as the sun rose fully into the sky.
Her stomach's growling finally became too loud after a few hours of reading, where she could no longer ignore it. Changing into her clothes, she made for the kitchenette, wrapped in her fluffy robe over them and carrying her book. Maybe she'd have coffee and a scone and eat on the couch and read a bit more, surely no one else will be awake this early.
The whole book so far had been enlightening, but the current chapter she was reading, Communication is Key, was really giving her courage about what she needed to do. It was ridiculous how sometimes she needed a book to explain to her what to do rather than be able to follow her instincts, but regardless she found the act of acquiring information soothing.
Puttering around the kitchenette as she made her coffee with her nose still stuck in her book, Hermione was startled when she heard the sound of a door sliding open… sliding? They didn't have a sliding door in the Head Suite...did they? Gathering up her coffee and book, she swiftly moved to the common area to investigate the misplaced sound.
A flood of colour took over the common room she noted as she stepped in and discovered a bank of stained glass windows that had been hidden under the now-missing Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tapestries. Hermione couldn't help the smirk when she noticed that only the Gryffindor and Slytherin tapestries were still hanging. Fitting. It was there that her eyes finally landed on a sliding panel of glass that opened onto a balcony. Drawing closer, Hermione saw that it came with an expansive view of the lake. She let out a gasp at the sight;, it was incredible. The early morning light made everything more breathtaking. Bright and fresh, the mist rolling off the lake like a wave, it easily could have been a painting hanging up in a museum.
"Good morning, princess. This view is nice but maybe not as nice as the one you had last night," Theo said from off to her left, making Hermione jump and shriek involuntarily with surprise. Clutching her hand to her chest, she narrowed her eyes at the boy lounging against the balcony's stone railing with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.
"How do you know that balcony is stable, Nott?" Hermione asked, pointedly ignoring what he'd just said about her peeping Tom last night.
"I checked with a diagnostic spell, quite safe… But back to surnames again, Hermione? I thought we were past that," Theo sighed dramatically, taking a long draw on his cigarette and watching her closely as she couldn't help but stare as the smoke spilled between his long fingers, and the sunrise shown upon his signet ring. His bronze skin drew her eyes like a moth to a flame, and she was very certain that she wouldn't mind being burned by him.
What had her book said? You never know what is possible in romantic dynamics unless you communicate with those you are interested in? Voicing your desires is both appropriate, as well as the only way to know if your desires are reciprocated. Not every witch or wizard you might like is a Legilimens, so speak of your aspirations.
Well, here goes nothing.
"I do like this view, Theo," She drawled, trying to convey some of her desire for more kisses and to watch another performance like last night. "But it definitely doesn't make me hot in the way last night's did. I can't lie, that was perhaps the sexiest thing I have ever had the pleasure to witness in my whole life." She let out a hum after she'd finished, looking through her eyelashes at him and thinking of all the naughty things she'ds like him to do to her. S she felt the blush on her cheeks and knew that her pupils must be dilated as she watched his pupils widen in response.
This was perhaps the first time since she'd ran into Theo on the train that she'd seen him rendered speechless and it only made her smirk at him.
"Well, I am thrilled that you enjoyed the show." He choked out, before clearing his throat and taking another drag. He exhaled through his nose as he recovered from the shock she'd put him through, but he quickly regained the cocky confidence that she was used to. "Perhaps you could get a repeat performance," he said with a wink.
Hermione clutched her book like a lifeline and shifted her coffee cup to the same hand, so one of her hands was free. She walked closer to Theo, wishing she wasn't wearing her ridiculous fluffy robe, but she ran her hand down his chest anyway. "I would love a repeat performance anytime you and Malfoy are willing." She purred, leaning up so that her lips brushed against his jaw.
Theo's mouth hung open as she ran her hand all the way to his throat and then cupped his cheek before drawing back. His breathing came erratically for a few moments, until he finally gasped out, "By the Four Founders, Hermione, you may be the death of me, but it will be a damn fine way to go." He reached for her, but Hermione was already slowly backing away from the Slytherin boy watching his twinkling sapphire eyes as she went.
She laughed, and hardly recognised herself in the tinkling flirtatious sound. She turned around, swaying her hips as she walked back into the suite, enjoying the sound of the shuddering breath she heard him take. Sitting on the couch to read her book with coffee, she didn't see Theo standing in the doorway to the balcony. Leaning with one shoulder, he gazed at her longingly, while finishing the clove cigarette. She did, however, smell the rich scent as it wafted through the room, and that made her grin grow just a bit larger.
She wasn't quite ready for Theo to know what she was reading however, so she charmed the cover of the book to read "Advanced Arithmancy with Runes and Ogham." Hopefully that would keep anyone else from looking in it if she left it laying out in the common room.
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Already dressed in her signature black lace top and black pencil skirt combination, Pansy emerged from Theo's bedroom leaving Draco still in bed. Passed out with the pillow over his face to keep out the light, his grumbling as she moved about in the bed reminded her of what a demanding child he'd been growing up. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
It was still ridiculously early though, so Pansy just rolled herself out of the bed and left him to sleep. With waking up so early, Pansy still found herself hungry, and she decided that she'd rather cook than wait another hour to be able to go down for breakfast in the Great Hall.
Rummaging through the stasis cabinet and the cupboard, Pansy easily found everything she'll need to make scones and bacon. Humming a tune to herself, Pansy set the domestic spells into motion. Fixing more coffee and a fresh pot of tea, Pansy was pulled out of her thoughts as she watched Hermione walking in wearing an oversize house coat. Even in the ridiculous pink fluff, Pansy couldn't help but think the witch looked delectable.
An idea sprung into Pansy's mind when Hermione reached for the milk and gently brushed against Pansy's breast. A blush spread across Hermione's face as she sputtered out an awkward apology. "Sorry about that, Pansy, just, I don't need milk…" Hermione said, stepping away and lifting her mug to her lips, a grimace crossed her face as the bitter coffee hit her tongue.
"Of course you do, Hermione," Pansy purred, brushing her arm against Hermione's gently as she took back the cup and added the milk for her before handing it back with a smile. Pansy made sure that her fingers lingered against Hermione's for just a second longer than necessary and the quick intake of breath from the Gryffindor felt like victory in Pansy's blood. There's many more touches where that one came from, Granger, Pansy thought to herself with a smirk. With that, Pansy resolved to touch the pretty clever brunette with those honey eyes a thousand different ways over the coming days. Perhaps she would be able to get a taste of those sweet lips that Theo was so infatuated with.
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By the time Draco woke and dressed, he had just enough time to grab some of the breakfast that Pans had made and tea before the four of them were rushing down the stairs. Granger had been reading an advanced arithmancy text that Theo looked desperate to read as soon as he saw the title. What had he ever done to be surrounded by such swots? Although it made a sick sort of sense as he was spending all his days in the Head Boy's rooms.
Despite Blaise still living in the Slytherin dorms, if he wasn't shagging a girl in one of the houses yet, Draco had no desire to be down in the dungeons. Too many nightmares lived down there, not to mention that he kept expecting to see Snape melodramatically tossing his cape over his shoulder and he missed his godfather.
Avoiding the dark angry menace of Goyle was another plus of avoiding the Slytherin dorms; Draco's only interaction with his former minion had been a shoulder check and a shove where Goyle had called him a "blood traitor." There wasn't much more to say was there? Vince had died and something in Greg had broken. Draco wasn't even sure why Greg was at therapy camp, because the boy clearly wasn't participating in his group or trying to overcome his prejudices. In fact, Draco thought his former friend wanted to join his father in Azkaban.
What a bloody fool.
Following Theo, Pansy, and Granger, Draco went down the stairs and corridors. Seeing the Golden Girl's wild curls bouncing in front of him sent Draco's thoughts spiralling into the events of the night before.
It had been simply unbelievable much more like an erotic dream rather than reality. Granger watched him on his knees for Theo, and it had turned her on. This wasn't an assumption for him either, no he knew that this was a fact; her hands had been in her knickers. Sweet Circe, the thought of what her fingers must have been doing had him half hard in his trousers, forcing him to subtly adjust himself so no one would notice. Her head had been thrown back, her back arched and her mouth in a perfect "o". He wanted her to make a face like that while under him, hell, he wouldn't even mind getting to watch her under Theo if she'd make that face again. He wanted to not touch her at all while stroking himself and watching her sink those lovely fingers inside herself. He wanted all kinds of things, things he'd tried before, things he hadn't. He might be a virgin, but he hadn't been a monk.
He had a well of experience to draw from. So what if ninety percent of that experience was with Theo and the other ten was playing spin the bottle, watching others do things during parties, Prefect rounds, or walking in on students in their dorms?
Only one time was he invited to stay and watch, and that had been Blaise with some blonde Gryffindor girl that liked an audience. She'd gone on to shag Weasley, that tosser, and then gotten herself killed by Greyback. Ugh, why couldn't he even think about normal teen debauchery without it leading back to war and death?
That's all his life was: despair, hopelessness all wrapped up in bloody war and death.
Draco desperately fought the urge to occlude, despite the tears he could feel pricking at his eyes. If the mind healers thought he might develop sociopaths, as they'd called it, that would not reflect well on him at his trial. He needed the best possible endorsement from them to avoid Azkaban. He attempted to silence the voice in his head that told him even a ringing endorsement from the mind healers might not be enough to keep him out of prison. He wasn't entirely successful and he felt the weight of dread in his gut.
Walking into the courtyard, he raised a curious brow at the sight. All three circles were filled with easels, stools and large mirrors. Choosing a spot on the far side of the circle, Theo dropped into the chair to one side while Pansy took the other. Granger settled in on Pansy's other side, earning a curious look from Finnigan and Thomas who were already in their seats. He noted that the two girls seemed to be building a friendship, although Draco suspected that Pansy had other intentions as he watched his childhood friend reach over and lightly brush her hand against Granger's thigh, making a flush appear on the Golden Girl's neck. Would Granger want Pans though? Draco had long learned not to doubt Pans' ability to draw in girls that he would never have supposed would fall to her charms.
"Good morning everyone!" Cordelia's greeting startled Draco out of his thoughts as his eyes broke away from his female roommates. "We are going to be doing something a little different this morning."
"Your task is to draw yourself. Adjust your mirrors accordingly, making sure you are physically comfortable and not straining to see your reflection." A practised flick of his wand had Draco's reflection looking back at him, rolling his eyes at himself. "Begin by breathing. Let your eyes observe the light, shadow, form, texture and lines of your features, but most importantly, without judgement. I want you to view yourself as if this is the first time you are seeing this image."
Draco catalogued the charcoal, pencils, and pastels he had been given, and gave Theo an excited grin, which was returned. Regardless that he wasn't thrilled with the subject, Draco couldn't help but feel the peace that came along whenever he got to tap into this underutilised talent of his.
"Salazar, Drake, don't wait on us," Theo whispered next to him with a wink. "I know it's killing you. Just have at it while everyone else muddles through and fakes it." Draco looked at his face in the mirror, once he'd decided on a pose, he quickly got to sketching.
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Finishing up her sketch, Pansy scrunched up her nose studying what she had created. It was more the idea of a face and her signature haircut rather than the detailed self-portraits that she knew Draco, and from the look of concentration across the circle, Luna would produce.
Casting a glance in Cordelia's direction, who was standing between Abbott and Bones saying words of encouragement, Pansy took the opening to wander around and look at other's work. She chuckled to herself and rolled her eyes as she looked to her left. Draco's drawing was perfect, as always.
"You did your hands like that just to show off," she whispered into the shell of his ear. His boyish grin when he looked up at her made her answering smile nearly giddy. Turning back and going to the other side of her work station, she stood over Hermione, using it as an excuse to run her hand along the brunette's arm, causing her to shiver. "Nice work Granger," Pansy purred in her ear, her lips actually brushing Hermione's earlobe.
"It's Hermione, Pansy," Hermione said, continuing to concentrate on her drawing. She seemed to be trying to draw each distinct wild curl and then looked up suddenly into Pansy's face as she seemed to become aware of how close the other girl had gotten.
"I know," Pansy's smile was slow and seductive, causing Hermione's breath to catch. "Granger," she purred again, "is just so much more fun to say when I'm up close." Pansy finished her statement by licking her lips. Hermione looked nervous, even as her eyes darted to where Pansy's tongue had just been, so Pansy brushed lightly against her as she turned to peruse the other art pieces.
Strolling the circle, she heard the sounds of shock as the rest of the group got up to look at everyone else's work. Draco surprised everyone by drawing a photorealistic portrait of himself.
"Wow, I had no idea Malfoy. You're really good," Thomas said.
"You could be a portraitist!" Longbottom exclaimed.
Pansy heard Draco's self-mocking responses as he was standing next to Blaise's seat and knew that she and Theo needed to encourage him. He really was a gifted artist, and if he could escape Azkaban, he should do something that would make him happy. Rather than following down the path that Lucius would have wanted and taking over the family business. She couldn't imagine him in a Malfoy Enterprises boardroom, which was probably a good thing.
As she passed Luna's drawing, she let out a gasp. Luna's self-portrait was a close second to Draco's, her drawing not photo perfect, but a clearly recognizable likeness. Pansy made certain to compliment her, leaning in and brushing her cheek with a kiss, earning a soft smile from the little witch.
"Of course this isn't an art competition," said Cordelia as everyone continued to wander their circles, "but feel free to give kudos to those whose art you enjoy." Cordelia signalled to the other mind healers, and announced, "We will open all the circles now and everyone is welcome to go do an art walk. Please enjoy."
Pansy said nothing to several people attempting not to be an unnecessary bitch even if their drawings were awful. The little Carrow twins nearly cowered when she came by. Salazar, what did they think she was going to do to them?
"Beautiful likenesses, Flora, Hestia," Pansy said, nodding with her most regal expression before walking away from their shocked expressions. Channelling my inner Narcissa Malfoy, Pansy thought, as she worked to exude the elegance that was effortless when demonstrated by her favourite society matriarch. Pansy could not wait until she could see her mentor again. She'd encourage Draco to write to his mum again and include another message from her. Knowing that Narcissa was in her corner helped Pansy not feel so distraught at being abandoned by her own family. Narcissa cared about her, thought she had value so Pansy knew that it was true.
Walking past where Hermione was looking at Dennis Creevey's canvas, Pansy managed to graze Hermione's skin with the back of her hand as she headed back out of that circle and towards her own seat. Things were going swimmingly, all things considered. She could feel Hermione's honey gaze following her, but the other girl whipped her head away when Pansy turned her direction. Pansy smothered the giggle that bubbled out of her, but couldn't deny the smirk that settled on her lips.
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After a group therapy where she had basically spent the entire time feeling inadequate -who could have known that Malfoy of all people was such a skilled artist?. He'd said it was his hidden talent, but she hadn't expected him to be THAT good - Hermione decided to go for a walk around the Black Lake. The afternoon was cool and she stopped to feel the wind on her face as she came around a bend in the trial. She looked up at the clouds wondering if there might be a rainstorm.
Suddenly, she froze. Sitting in the same position he had drawn himself, Malfoy's white blonde head and broad shoulders were visible on a big rock ahead. And he wasn't alone either.
Hermione was dumbfounded to see Neville upon the same rock sitting next to Draco Malfoy. Theo stood up in front of them, as he was telling some kind of story, a cigarette in his hand as he animatedly waved his arms about making the smoke wave around in the air. Neville and Draco were laughing at whatever Theo was saying, making Hermione feel like she was intruding on a private moment between the three boys. As if she hadn't already intruded on private moments of two of the boys… She realised she was close enough to hear their laughter, so she began to back up towards the tree line before she was seen.
The last thing she needed was for them to think she was spying on them. Hepsibeth Myrly would hardly approve. Eavesdropping was specifically mentioned as unethical in the first chapter on ethical non-monogamy. And yet, she'd done it last night like some wanton woman.
She watched as Theo took a deep drag of the cigarette, blowing out smoke rings that grew in size as they floated up into the wind before dissipating into nothingness. The cigarette was passed to Draco who took a drag and passed it to Neville who took a long drag as well before blowing out little o's of smoke of his own. Hermione was shocked, as Neville looked experienced blowing smaller rings inside of rings. Malfoy and Theo gave him a round of applause and Hermione heard Theo congratulate him with "Well blown, Longbottom," making the three boys laugh again.
What on earth was Neville doing socialising with Slytherins and smoking? To be fair, what was she doing socialising with Slytherins? Maybe just the smoking was the shocking part? Hermione had certainly never seen Neville smoke, and yet here he was displaying skills that someone who was a first time smoker would not have been able to do. She hadn't been around last year though had she? And from what she'd heard about the Carrows' reign of terror, maybe smoking wasn't as horrible a thing if it helped.
Despite knowing that this is not the sort of thing that she should be doing if she is serious about acting on her attraction as it just set up the possibility of miscommunication and upset feelings, according to Ms. Myrly, Hermione continued to watch for a while longer. They all looked so much younger than they usually did; a sense of ease seemed to transform their faces. Draco said something to Theo and Neville good naturedly shoved his shoulder.
Surprisedly, Hermione realised what she was looking at: camaraderie.
Abruptly, Hermione was overwhelmed with feelings of loss for the fellowship that she had once experienced as one third of the Golden Trio. The ease with which Malfoy and Theo interacted and included Neville. Hermione wondered if maybe what she thought she, Harry and Ron had had never been real.
Had it really all been them using her brains and study skills to solve their problems? Had all their feelings towards her disintegrated when she was no longer useful to them? They hadn't been concerned about her parents being missing in Australia or any of her feelings actually. Harry seemed to just take her for granted now that he was back with the Weasleys and had Ginny and Auror Training and the admiration of the whole bleeding Wizarding World. And when she hadn't shagged Ron, he'd been in the wind. Seven years of friendship did not seem to mean much to either of them.
Although she knew there was more to Theo and Malfoy's relationship than strictly friendship, she still couldn't imagine either of them abandoning the other. They seemed too close and they clearly both relied on each other equally. Their relationship was balanced, nothing like her friendships.
Then she gaped as Theo exhaled smoke into Draco's mouth, his fingers twisting in the platinum locks and she could see Neville blushed wide-eyed at the display. Draco leaned into Theo and nipped his lip as the brunette pulled back, smiling.
With a dry mouth, Hermione turned around and ran back the way she had come, her mind replaying that kiss again and again.
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It was only four doors farther to the offices of the Mind Healer's down this corridor. The feeling of strong permanent silencing charms hung in the air, they were thick and almost felt like you were standing in the rain as it drizzled. The ambient magic was intoxicating, and it was almost as if he had stepped into a whole other world.
Healer Cordelia's door was the first one; well, she was in charge of the entire bloody program, so of course her door would be the first one. Theo stood outside, studying her name plate that included her professional title. Theo had zero idea what any of her titles meant or what she'd had to do to get them, but apparently they meant that she was qualified to try and fix his fucked up mind.
Hands in the pockets of his tight denim, Theo rocked back and forth on his heels before he turned and started walking away. Better luck next week… "Theodore? What are you doing out here?"
Well, fuck.
Turning back around with a flirtatious smile on his lips, Theo held out his arms. "I was just checking out the accommodations, making sure that they're up to your standards. Head Boy duties, you understand," he lied, stepping back towards the healer, trying to shield his nerves after being caught.
"Ah, yes, obviously that's all you're here for," Cordelia said with a smile on her face.
"Obviously," Theo replied with his own forced grimace.
"Come along, Theo," Cordelia said in a tone that made Theo realise that it wasn't a request at all. Looking down at his dragon hide boots, Theo mumbled under his breath about bossy witches in his life and obediently followed. Because if there was one thing Theo had quickly learned, Cordelia was a witch fully in command of any situation- taking control with only a raised eyebrow. Would Pansy be like that when she was Cordelia's age? Without question.
They walked into the comfortable room and Theo let out a snort that he hid by clearing his throat quickly. Salazar, the room looks like a place that Hermione would design. Overflowing bookshelves lined the empty walls, while the large plush couch looked as though it would feel like a cloud when you sank into it. Very much unlike the furniture that was at the Nott Estate. House plants floated in the air, while some were on the floor and on every surface. Yes, most definitely this was a different world than the one he'd grown up in.
Cordelia motioned towards a tea cart and Theo nodded his head in the affirmative as he walked past the Granger-approved couch and towards the window. Lifting an arm, he leaned on the windowsill to look down on the view. It was overlooking the greenhouses and he could easily spot Luna Lovegood with her bright hair sitting on the ground next to Blaise, putting what looked like a daisy crown on his head. He couldn't help but snort at the sight, the little lunatic had most certainly changed his Italian friend.
A tray bumped his arm bringing his attention away from the couple below him. He turned around to find everything that he could possibly want to fix his tea with, well anything besides Firewhisky, which was his preferred ingredient.
"So, Theo, what actually brings you to my office today?"
Theo cleared his throat as he let his hands busy with fixing himself a cuppa. "I think you may have noticed that my home life wasn't great...in group," at Cordelia's encouraging nod, Theo continued. "I thought perhaps talking about it some more might make me feel better." Theo couldn't stand the tremulous tone of his voice he sounded so fucking fragile. His father would break one of his ribs if he could hear him right now.
Theo tried to shake off that thought as it caused him to feel the fear rising up in him, his hands shook and he had to remind himself that his father was in Azkaban, doomed to die.
After a ragged exhale from Theo, Cordelia spoke into the silence. "It might Theo, it might. In fact, considering that I have invested a decade into doing this type of work because I believe that it does and it will." Her reassuring smile made Theo feel less like a fool. She was right wasn't she? She knew about mind healing, if anyone could help she could.
"My father was…er, is a violent man. I don't recall him ever touching me or anyone with affection or kindness. He's getting the Dementors' Kiss before years end. And I'm not even sad about it or conflicted, because the worst crime he ever committed, he got away with." Theo picked at the black nail polish that remained on his hands. He chewed on his lip so hard that he could taste the copper taste of his blood.
"Do you want to talk more about that?" Cordelia asked, looking back at her Quick Quotes Quill to make sure it was working.
"Yes...no...I mean I don't know...isn't it why I came?"
"Is it?"
"Yes," Theo whispered, clenching his fists so Cordelia wouldn't see how badly they were shaking. "That is why I came."
Theo took another deep breath and closed his eyes, as if he could protect himself from the memories. "The summer between first and second year, my mother tried to intercede with my father for me. He was going to arrange a marriage contract for me and my mom wanted me to have a say. A choice in who I married. 'He's only twelve Thoros,' I remember her begging, 'let it wait a bit, someone acceptable should catch his eye in the next few years.' My father didn't appreciate her questioning him and snapped her neck, right in front of me." Theo tried to close his eyes even tighter as the tears threatened to break free.
"One moment they were arguing and the next she was dropping to the ground dead. I was in such shock that I just froze, I didn't do anything. I didn't cry, I didn't talk, I didn't move. My father dragged her by her scalp and took her to the top of the stairs and threw her towards the bottom as if she were a bloody doll. She fell, hitting the bannisters, her body rolling down the stairs and then she just was at the bottom. Feet from me. Sprawled out. Bloody. And then he called the Aurors to report her tragic accident. Almost every real memory I have of her involves violence or its aftermath. And this one is the worst memory I have." Theo could hear his voice cracking as he recounted his mother's death, saying things he'd never spoken aloud before.
"And I just stood there," his voice rising in volume, "silent as a grave, while they investigated and found her death to be non-magical and accidental. What a fucking joke the DMLE is!"
"That must have been really disappointing," Cordelia said, much calmer than he would have expected her to be. "To have the Aurors not hold your father accountable. It must have been hard to feel so powerless as a boy."
Theo snorted, "The thing I have found is that the Ministry is only consistent at one thing."
"And what is that?" queried Cordelia.
"Being disappointing," Theo said with mockery. "Did you know it's not even a crime to abuse your children in Wizarding Britain?"
"In fact, yes. I did know," Cordelia said, sadly. "It comes up quite a bit in therapy as you might imagine."
Theo exhaled, "I was constantly in St. Mungo's as a child. Broken bones. Internal bleeding. There's no way that the healers could have believed I was that clumsy. Bleeding Robards would show up and question me, try to get me to admit that my father had done it, to get me to admit that he used Unforgivables or had Dark Artefacts at home. The latter two actually being crimes and his nearly fatal abuse of me being a bit of a social faux pas."
"Robards failed to save me from my sadistic bastard of a father's torture, a fact I know he feels guilty over, but did that stop him from denying me access to Draco and Pansy for more than an entire month following the most traumatic night of our lives? No it certainly did not!
"And then there is this sinking, overwhelming dread that Pansy and Draco might go to Azkaban forever and then I will be all alone, again. Because I was lucky enough to find not one but two people who love me in their damaged way and I might lose them both, because who cares that they were forced into serving the Dark Lord by their abusive fathers, right? What does the Ministry care if they are really guilty or not? They just want scapegoats, and to make it look like they're doing something, so it can get printed in the Prophet. It is all for their public image."
"And what is Draco but a perfect scapegoat? The Malfoy heir, youngest Marked Death Eater, would-be assassin. Nevermind that he was shite at the whole thing, never mind that Snape killed Dumbledore. Nevermind any of that. Someone needs to pay and that someone will probably be Draco, because Theo Nott does not deserve love. The Ministry is inept and corrupt and disappointing. And hope is just the final evil left, just something to torment me."
Staying at his place next to the window, Theo realised he had never fixed his tea and did so before leaning his back against the glass and taking a sip. Kicking the toe of his boot against the deep purple rug, Theo smirked as he watched the corner fold up and when he lifted his foot, the corner he'd disrupted didn't lay flat. Again, Theo kicked the corner, and the rug bent inwards, stalling for a second time, but still not falling back flat.
As if he were a man possessed, Theo continued this action, getting more and more intent on ruining this rug. It had no right to be able to lay so perfectly, just for people to step on it. The colour was too rich for this cold floor. Theo felt as his hot tea spilled out over the lip of his cup, burning his hands, but still he didn't stop his assault against the rug. Bringing his foot back as far as he could with such close proximity to the wall, he kicked the entire corner over until it flipped and now instead of the purple, he was left seeing the gritty underside of the rug. The part that was unflattering, the part no one paid any attention to.
His chest was heaving, even though what he'd just done wasn't much of a physical assertion, he still felt drained. The tea cup in his hand had emptied its entire contents over him, and he was left with just a mess. Just like his life.
A warm, well manicured hand covered his own, that was now a deep shade of red from the hot tea spilled over them. Theo looked up into the dark eyes of the healer and blinked, just realising that tears that had formed in his eyes while he attacked her rug had finally spilled over. "You must think I'm a bloody lunatic," Theo muttered, breaking eye contact and looking back at the upturned corner.
"I think," she said, crouching down and righting the rug before standing back up and taking the empty tea cup and setting it on the tray. "That you have been through a lot. Would it be alright if I hugged you?" She asked and at Theo's nod, she tugged on Theo's arm and pulled him into her embrace, wrapping her arms around him, while his arms hung at his sides. "And I think, you not only need, but deserve the reassurance that not all the adults in your life are here to use you or gain something from you." She whispered the last bit, and Theo felt something inside him crack.
The tears overtook him as he clung to the older witch and accepted the touch for what it was. Just comfort. Just an adult looking at him and seeing the scared and hurt little boy that he was inside. Someone to reach out to him and tell him that it was okay to break, that he didn't have to keep being strong, that she, as the adult, would help him carry his burdens.
The tears dried and Theo could feel the lump in his throat start to dissolve.
"I don't have to forgive my father or some shite do I?"
"We don't have to forgive our abusers Theodore," Cordelia said, stepping back now that he had calmed down. "You don't have to forgive in order to move on. Your father doesn't deserve nor even want your forgiveness. He thinks, and according to the law he's right, that his murder of your mother and your abuse at his hands were appropriate. No forgiveness isn't required here. Accountability for him is. However, you should forgive yourself. You couldn't have done anything differently, you were a child. You still are so young, in fact."
Sitting on the couch, Theo whispered, "Is it wrong if I pretend that the Dementors' Kiss is his punishment for murdering my mother?"
"No, Theodore," Cordelia reassured, "that's a perfectly valid feeling to have. In the end, the violence of his life led him to this end."
"I just feel so guilty that I managed to survive him and she didn't. That in the end, even if I have to live a life without love, I get to do it in a world where I am not expecting that he will kill me every day," Theo could feel the burning of his eyes and tried so hard to keep them from falling, again.
"Theo, the only person who is guilty here is the person who killed her. You were only a child."
Only a child, Theo thought, and put his head in his hands and wept, as a warm comforting hand laid on his shoulder. When have I ever gotten to be only a child?