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Theodore Nott roused from his sleep without a call telling him to, his eyes blinking open as he raised himself up from his bed into a seated position. His gaze immediately noting the fact that he had, the slightest, overslept given, including himself, only three students were in the dorm- though considering the lesson going on was supposed to be History, he wasn't entirely worried.

It was their second week in, and aside from the mandatory flying lessons, it looked to be as dull as the previous. His gaze idly shifted as it took notice of one Blaise Zabini, the boy hurriedly and failing to wake the third in their room via name-calling. An orphan of sorts by the name of Rodrick. Zabini for all his efforts was rewarded with silence; though the fact he hadn't bothered to physically attempt to wake up said the boy was on him. Given sound evidently seemed fruitless.

After a few more attempts at trying, the boy sighed and promptly made his way out, not so much as paying him a passing glance.

Giving the idea of attempting to wake the boy up himself, if only to perhaps curry a favour of sorts out of him, Nott decided to instead shrug and get his own reading done. He was, after all, an orphan. Despite whatever Malfoy meant about keeping an eye out on him.

The book itself was one gifted to him by his father for his acceptance into their shared house.

In all honesty, he wasn't even sure why the others in his year even bothered with their current lesson. According to his father, the History lesson was entirely pointless for the simple fact that its teacher was useless. Though really, if he hadn't agreed with him he would've ignored his advice altogether, given the man shared the same opinion in regards to most of their subjects. The only positive, as far as he was concerned, when it came to Hogwarts involved either the possible connections one might create during their learning or its expansive library of the magical arts.

Specifically the Dark Arts. There weren't too many places that openly housed such books after all.

Flipping over another page, his gaze falling down onto the fourth year curse, he mentally braced himself for the difficulty in learning it. His father expected daily updates from him in that regard. And while some may call the man oppressive for his standards, the fact he didn't seem to care about near half of the courses he was, in fact, studying helped.

Not that anyone else would agree with the mindset of course, but his father was never one to follow the general opinion of others.

Taking his wand out, Nott presumed to attempt learning said art, the action going uninterrupted for moments before his gaze snapped towards the mildest signs of shuffling from the orphan's bed, while his wand and book disappeared under his covers.

Much like Zabini before him, the boy didn't waste any time socializing with him. Instead, electing to immediately- Nott had to force his expression not to react to the sudden scourging charm; the orphan neither having bothered to echo out an incantation nor fully finish the wand-waving before the effects seemed to hit him in full. His ragged appearance practically shined as it shifted to a cleaner one. The boy not wasting a beat as he threw on one of the nearby sets of student robes on his bed-side counter.

Unlike Zabini however, as soon as the boy reached the doorway to their dorm, he promptly froze, turning a single glance towards him. His expression bemused.

Nott thought him about to say something before to his further shock, he watched as the orphan once again took his wand out, his mouth quiet as he merely flicked the wand in a simple pattern.

"We do have a lesson right now, don't we?" The boy questioned, him presumably. Though Nott's own focus was on the flying schedule making its way towards the orphan's hands.

He could physically feel his hand start to shake as he stared at the sheer triviality with which a first-year, who shouldn't have the slightest idea of magic, use a summoning charm.

"...Are you skipping History? I don't think Slytherins have separate classes from each other..." The boy seemed to mumble to himself after a moment- Though the expectant look on his face told him otherwise.

"...No." The word escaped him without realizing it, his eyes blinking once as he found his body almost moving of its own accord as it suddenly decided that he did in fact want to go to said lesson. "We don't," He added on, with the slightest bit more certainty to his voice, his gaze never leaving the boy before him.

Rodrick on the other hand blinked once as he merely stood there, watching him get ready himself.

Still, he didn't waste too much time as he promptly found himself walking in step with the boy. His own bag of books either unnoticed or ignored in favor of paying attention to the wizard before him.

Malfoy may have had it more right than he'd given him credit for.

Who, exactly, was Rodrick... He found himself internally frowning as the missing second name, of any kind, finally registered in his head. The boy briefly considering asking if he had one at all before filing the thought away.

He had a feeling the other wasn't likely to answer his questions. Given he'd yet to formally speak to him.

As the two walked away from the Slytherin dungeon, his own gaze unmoving, while the other merely stole glances towards him. Nott's mind chose to settle on the fact the orphan had somehow made it to Slytherin.

"So, what's your deal? Exactly?" He questioned, given he'd seen no signs of any attempts at forming influences from the boy before him. Despite the talent he clearly had.

Most Slytherins focused on improving themselves first before bothering to convince others to plot with them. This either meant the boy didn't understand that particular part, or he simply showed no interest in the fact entirely.

Both scenarios, however, wouldn't have resulted in him been chosen for the house of snakes.

Well, if his father was to be believed.

"...What'd you mean?" Was the boy's response as they both made their way through the dungeon door.

"...Well, Malfoy's in it for the fame... What are you in it for?"

"...Haven't decided."

His eyes, of course, narrowed at the clear-cut lie. And while it was certainly prudent to keep one's plans to themselves, his own issue came in the fact-

"Don't make... vagueness your deal."

"That was vague? You haven't even introduced yourself yet..." Rodrick responded in a deadpan voice before shaking his head, his expression showing the slightest hint of amusement as he turned a glance towards him.

Nott blinked in response to the unexpected answer before shrugging.

"Theodore Nott," He shrugged, his hands still in his pocket.

"Rodrick,"

"No second name?" He immediately queried as the two turned a corner towards the first set of staircases to the first floor.

"...You know... It's probably not my place, but you should really work on your social skills."

Nott stopped on his tracks, his gaze zeroing in on the orphan telling him such blasphemous words. Though after a moment of recalling his own side of the conversation, he couldn't help the sigh that came out as he chose to continue walking.

While he could, and according to his father probably should take offense... He elected to instead try and at the very least figure out exactly what the wizard before him was... Well all about first. Particularly if summoning and 'accidental' transfiguration weren't the only thing he knew how to pull. A small part of him even beginning to reconsider the whole Potions class they'd had as well.

Malfoy, to his irritation, was probably far more right than he'd thought.

"You're probably right," He shrugged, electing to instead focus on the rest of their very-late journey to History of Magic.

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