AN: I meant to post this last week but I kept getting side tracked annnnnd i've been pulling some overtime as well, so yeah - not enough time. Finger's crossed, the next one comes sooner. THANKS AGAIN to these LOVELY peoples, Foxtort1702 - I feel you, been suuuper busy as well, haven't had a day off; so i'm glad i'm not alone. Naruhina1519, Thanks! I cherish your words ( ;A;) And ClassicXD, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Hope I keep you entertained. Everyone else. Thanks for reading~ FOLLOW/FAV/REVIEW
"Heard Draco got detention." Theo spoke as he reaches the carpeted area, on which Mortimer was sitting on. He did not reply, because he knew that despite being back into his reserved state, Draco will be coming down any minute, in a sour mood no less.
Being at his best meant Draco will have to take the mantel of being a little trouble-making punk, at least for a while.
Returning back to Hogwarts certainly hasn't been any easier than when he was living at Malfoy Manor. There was still the occasional teasing and aggressive behavior of every known student he has encountered. Among his circle, they've accepted him as one of their own, a proper pureblood with a bright future ahead of him.
Mortimer has been on his best behavior since coming back, he thought if he started showing signs of maturity, Professor Snape – even Dumbledore, would take notice, see that he isn't a bratty boy with troubling tantrums. They will be impressed and then, with a burning desire, teach him occlumency.
Or so he thought – Instead he's been ignored, side-tracked, he would even say shunned. He doesn't understand why, neither Dumbledore or Snape had bothered to check up on him. Anytime he tried getting a private word in, mortimer was disregarded as a nuisance. He was losing patience day after the day and what kept him going was creating diversion, one's that occupied him into a bust work schedule.
These day he distracts himself with Tobey. The squiggly reptile was very keen and joyful to be accompanying his master. Technically, bringing a pet that wasn't listed in the school's regulations, weren't allowed. But Mortimer didn't think Tobey would hurt anybody and so far, he's done a good job in keeping the reptile from doing any harm. His slytherin house were aware of the snake he got over the holidays, others heard, yet all have decided to keep quiet.
Tobey was chewing on his finger, his sensing told Mortimer that someone was approaching him from behind. He had an idea so he didn't really react.
"This is so stupid! I don't even know why I should be punished. I'm not the one hiding a dragon on school grounds." Draco made a sharp face.
"Well, who told you it was a good idea to follow Potter and his gang way pass curfew?" Mortimer remarked. Draco seemed irritated by this.
"Who refused to come with me?" Clenching his hands, Draco immediately replies.
"Like I'd risk getting caught. And if it's Potter we're talking about I'd be even more surprised if they didn't reward him for it."
Draco agreed with him. Mortimer gave him a smirk, Theo rolled his eyes. "Who knew Draco was capable of such behaviors."
"Shut it Nott."
Mortimer turns his eyes down on the floor. Both Nott and Malfoy were going side to side.
"What troubles you." Tobey asked in a trice.
Mortimer scouts the room. Draco and Theo were still yelling at each other. Everyone might have known about the pet snake, but they certainly didn't know about being a parseltongue.
There was no need for them to know. "Quiet. No one is suppose to find out."
"Why?" He whips his tail, Tobey slithers on Mortimer's thigh. "There is no shame."
Additional scoping, he makes sure no one is listening. He turns to face the reptile "It's not shame. It's being smart."
"I don't understand humans..."
Mortimer watches as Theo starts laughing when Draco turns red over something be said. "You're not suppose to."
Tobey trails again, this time around Mortimer's arm. "Someone comes."
Their remarks went through his ears that he was unable to hear a different voice. Taking into account what tobey said, the other voice was more girly.
"Hey Mortimer." Moving the direction of the voice, he saw that it was Tracey and Daphne. Both standing in front of him as he coolly sat there, his companion gives a small hiss before stirring.
Mortimer nearly forgot he agreed to Tracey's 'study group.' They would be meeting at the library before dinner. Why he agreed? Mortimer doesn't remember. They asked at a time where his mind was occupied with other things.
He recalls the time, the day he was set to leave.
Watching from afar, a mother hold her son close. Telling him how much he will be missed, wishing he didn't have to go.
"Write me every day." Narcissa caresses Draco's delicate face. "Best behaviors."
"Yes Mother." He huffs.
A quick peck, she releases her son. From where Mortimer was standing he could see his aunt trying to get a glimpse of him. He refuses to share a look. His feelings haven't changed, the stinging two-timing sensation of betrayal hurts more than words could describe.
She could pretend that nothing was wrong, but then she would be lying. Both knew it ran deeper. He was hurt, and scared. Scared that they'll announce to the whole world what an abomination he is. Scared that he'll never be accepted, not among with his own. Scared that he'll never truly experience what it feels like to be happy.
He wants to hate her – hurt her like she did to him. Just when things were seeming to get a little better, there's always something getting in the way.
No point in thinking it any further. It was done, and he wasn't going to be able to see them, least not until the summer.
"You ready?" Draco asked, his finely dressed robes were covered by a dark cloak.
Mortimer has been quiet since the morning. He only nods, not feeling up to respond.
"Mother sends her best wishes." Draco says, he was hesitant, not sure if it would upset him.
Again, Mortimer says nothing but boards the train instead, Draco walking not far from behind. Each passing cart was already pact. Everyone had their own little spot for their groups. Draco's happen to be all the way in front, where all the posh and wealthy brats hanged.
It was overall full by the time they arrived. So they took the only seats that were available.
They plopped and let out a heavy breathe, they were finally able to drop their haughty personas. "Are you finally going to tell me what yesterday was all about?"
Closely Mortimer scanned the room. The filling noise of arbitrary racket created a small field for the two to have their private conversation.
"Well? What's going on?" He talks in a hush tone, not wagering any ongoing prying ears.
A short pause, Mortimer thinks of a plain way to explain his nosy cousin about that blasted book. It was plain and simple. "I'm trying to learn occlumency. I need the book but it was taken from me, so, I had to get it back."
"Where'd you get?"
Mortimer shook his head, the calm composer he kept made him invisible from the rest. "You wouldn't believe me."
Draco was starring down at him. "Try me."
His gaze flickered towards his cousin before answering. "Professor Snape."
The blond practically squawked, but then his lips curled into a humorous smile. "Ha – Very funny. Thought you said Professor Snape willingly gave you a book on occulmency. As if…"
"Hey! Mortimer!" Moving his eyes, he saw that it was Tracey, her pigtails bounced when she exclaimed.
Straightening his back, he answered with kindness. "Hey Tracey. Enjoyed your holidays?"
"It was wonderful." Happily, she perks up before asking. "I wanted to know if you'd be interested in our study group! Remember?"
Mortimer turns his attention towards Draco for a short time, his cousin making kissy faces, he quickly goes back to Davis who stood there patiently waiting. "I – Sure."
"Great – That's great!"
Giving her a warm smile which he wanted to desperately wipe off. Tracey giggled at his numb response before hopping off to meet Daphne.
They never did finish their conversation. Often interrupted, made worse when Draco decided to stalk Potter and the other two – Said they were acting rather suspicious. He wanted to catch them. But whatever he was hoping to accomplish, ending in backfire.
Now, Draco finds detention waiting for him. While Mortimer will go on to dip his toe into the socials sites of Hogwarts. Both were reluctant to go.
There was no use in sitting here listening to his two dorks as they argue back and forth. Getting up from the floor, he dusts off vest before approaching Davis.
"Are you ready?" Asked Tracey. Daphne seemed less enthusiastic but kept her thoughts to herself.
"I will come as well."
"Let me tie my shoe." Mortimer excused himself before bending down. His lace was perfectly fine, but he couldn't let the girls see him chatting with the snake.
"No. You will stay here." He forces tobey of his arm. "For now, wait for me to return. Until then, do not let anyone see you."
Tobey says nothing but worms away, letting him go.
The girls don't question him. Mortimer gathers his quills and parchments. "All set." Once he feels set Mortimer and the two girls leave. A quick gander, Draco and Theo were still arguing, he roll his eyes.
Arriving at the library, the children had an hour before dinner would be serving. With tracey doing most of the talking, Daphne contributed ever so often while Mortimer worked in silence.
Tracey was beginning to fret, unable to hold her wand firmly, her spell had broken causing a sort of gun fiery sound. "Oh - Shoot!"
Draphne and Mortimer covered their ears at the loud bang that had echoed throughout the library.
It didn't take long for everyone to take notice.
Hearing the noises Madam Pince arrives to scold the children. "This is a library! One more sound out of you lot and you are all banned."
"As for you boy." She points at Mortimer. "I expected more from you. It would be a shame to deny you, but I will if this happens again."
Without looking up, Mortimer's eyes remained on his written work. He didn't need to see how upset the woman was, she practically shouts it out. He didn't risk upsetting her further. "Understood Madam Pince."
The librarian huffs away, Mortimer and the other children nod their heads seemingly unaware Tracey's face was smeared in dusty ash.
"Do you want to get us thrown out?" Daphne whispers, rather callously. Tracey lowers her head in a sadden state.
Unsure what to do at the moment, mortimer decideds to help. "What were you doing?"
"I-I was trying to brush upon the wand movements of this spell." Frantically Tracey brings over her book, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one." She points.
Grabbing her transfigurations book, he studies the spell that nearly got him kicked out.
The Avifors Spell. The spell that could turn objects into birds. Many of which, had difficulty preforming. Including Mortimer, not many were able to succeed the first time. It took him close to a week to finally learn the blasted spell. Victory, obtained, it was the same amount of time that Granger had landed.
"We learned this weeks ago." A questionable look. Mortimer wondered why she was practicing now when this was something they had already went over in class.
If anything, Tracey should be learning the Flintifors spell, the incantation that turns objects into a matchbox, close to the Matches to needles.
"I know!" Tracey's teed off tone provokes her into banging her hands on the table. "And it's annoying me. I've tried weeks and still... nothing!"
Her agitated behavior was visible. Both Daphne and Mortimer watch as she slowly rests her head on the table before letting out a sigh, she felt beaten.
Daphne, like a good friend, starts rubbing her back, supporting Tracey. "It's only a matter of practicising. I'm sure you'll get it in a few more tries."
"Ugggh..." An abnormal, almost animalistic, cry, Davis crumples in her chair. "What's the point? I'll just fail now and get it over with."
Glaring at Mortimer, Daphne motion's her eyes towards Davis. Wanting him to chime in, Mortimer had to roll his eyes.
Very much clueless to having 'friends'. Quote unquote, Theo seemed to be the closets thing to actually being one. But then, Theo knew nothing about him outside from being Bella's kid. Draco didn't count, he might've known more than anyone else, the kind of life without witches and wizards that Mortimer had grown from. It wasn't through his choice, had he been more careful, mortimer would still have kept the ongoing secret.
Asking him to cheer Davis up was like handing her a button with no buttonhole. There was no way Mortiner would be able to cheer her up without making things any worse. It just didn't work.
"Right. . . Why don't show me what you did Davis. Maybe I can help." Mortimer said, rubbing his chin, this is probably the only way he'll be able to help.
Several seconds of burbling Tracey, she lifts her head to face Mortimer. Dry tears, he backs away when wet mucus starts leaking from her nose.
Gawking, he retrives a napkin from his left pocket, handing it to her. "Thank you." She says, blowing her nose, rather loudly, Mortimer wondered if all girls were this dramatic.
Composing herself, Tracey fixes her hair. After which, she takes her wand out and repeats the wand movement.
Almost immediately, Mortimer notices the wave motion. "I see." He quietly says.
"What?" Tracey's eyes become big.
"You're straightening after the circular motion -" He shakes his head, still holdind his chin. "When you're suppose to curve it. Remember what McGonagall said, every movement is critical."
"Try again. Only this time, bent it after the first hoop." Mortimer advises her.
Using the tissue he gave her, she takes a deep breath. As she points her wand, she gives mortimer one last look before she says. "Avifors!"
A near instant, a flock of birds rose towards the upwards ceiling. The children, cover themselves with their arms. Amazement, Tracey wowed at the sight, a wide grin spreading across her face.
Students nearby jumped, while some were confused at the sudden development of random flying birds.
"That's enough out of you three. Out! All of you." Madam Pince demanded with her authoritive finger; she points towards the exit.
They didn't want to upset the librarian any further. Mortimer and the other girls complied and went out their merry way.
Now standing out the library's doors. Mortimer felt rather upset. Upset that he didn't get to finish his work, for getting kick out because Davis couldn't hold a spell.
Mortimer was about to vent until Tracey spoke, her face still holding onto that broad grin. "I did it!" She jumps, far too many times. "I did it!" She repeats over and over, in a very sing-song tone.
"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" And so on, Tracey repeats this phrase.
Not noticing, Tracey practically glues herself around Mortimer. He can feel himself suffocating through Davis' tight grip around him. Daphne only watches from the side, he had hoped she would come to his rescue, she didn't. Instead, mortimer was stuck like this until he lets out a sound that appeared to be like choking.
"Sorry!" Finally, she loosens her arms and covers her mouth with her hands. "I got carried away."
A small groan, Mortimer rubs his arms. "Please don't do that again." Collectedly, his head hung down, he was put off by the physical contact.
He doesn't like being touched. Wether the intentions were good or bad, he couldn't stand it. It gave him goosebumps. It was unknown to him where this behavior began. It could have been earlier in his childhood, maybe even recent. Regardless, Mortimer did his best to brush it off.
"I'm so sorry." Tracey repeats. "I got real excited that's all. You know, you're the only one who's actually tried to teach me. No one else would do it."
Perking up, he dwells on the thought. "Why?"
Playing with her fingers, Tracey didn't want to openly admit to him. So Daphne replies in her stead. "Because she's a halfblood." To an extent, it sounded rude. Her blunt nature, what Daphne said had been true.
While halfbloods weren't treated as bad, they were still ranked low among the veiws of purebloods. Near to muggleborns, Tracey will still have to face harsh obstacles, no matter where she goes.
Tracey was aware of this fact when her grin turns upside down. "It's true. . ." Stilly, she continues to toy with her hands. "I-I know they only tolerate me because of my dad. But when my back is turned, they start saying things. Rotten things. It's why I wasn't invited to the yule celebration. I'm not good enough."
The unwillingness to talk about blood status, took him a few moments to realise she was having a hard time making friends. Mulling over a question, he turns his attention towards Greengrass. "What about you? You're a pureblood aren't you? Why weren't you there?"
There was a sharp glare in the girl's eyes.
Triggered by the question itself, or some other unknown reason, Daphne spoke clearly and unafraid. "My family has kept themselves neutral over the years. They care not for war. My father's only concern is his family. And should either side win, my family will prepare for the worst. That alone, is offensive to anyone who supports either group."
"Then why are you two talking to me?" Dubious, he straightens his back. Staring inbetween the two girls standing in front of him, he unsure what made them want to come near. "No offense but I thought you two wouldn't be so inclined to the idea of asking a Black - a family known to be dark - to join a study group with a halfblood and pureblood, who might as well be labeled as a blood traitor. It doesn't make sense."
At this, Daphne gave a short snort, cutting of a laugh, causing him a look in surprise. But Davis had quickly amended it by saying. "It was Theo who told us." Watching him warily for a long time, then, "Theo suggested we ask you since you're top of the class - An-And at first I was scared - you know, cause you're a related to Malfoy and all, but theo said you're nothing like him. That you're really really nice!" She squeaked out, figuring there was nothing wrong with telling him.
Purposefully not looking at either girl, he felt crowded but could not stop himself from frowning. So Theo was the mastermind behind this little ploy. Why Nott decided to sic 'em, Mortimer didn't find anything wrong them asking help.
Thinking back an hour ago, Tracey was nice to talk to. She didn't annoy him like Pansy, or asked stupid questions like Granger. Tracey was Tracey and she seemed all right, at least to him. And Mortimer seemed decent to them. Maybe because they thought him a gentlemen. One that didn't act snobbish, like Draco. Or conceited as Blaise, Dimwitted akin to Crabbe, a slob near Goyle.
Truth be told, it didn't feel as bad as he thought it would, not at first. The girls seemed friendly enough, Davis was too friendly, Greengrass – barely a noise, her face conveyed the words she was thinking.
Her fingers twitch, forgetting her face was covered in soot, "Theo was right." to then smile. "You are nice."
A wry response, Mortimer drops his head slowly. "Thanks, I guess – " His voice quiet but appreciative.
"Thanks again for helping me, really I'd going mental if it were for you." She turns to her friend. "Come Daphne – We don't want to be late." She turns to mortimer again. "We'll see at dinner."
Daphne and Tracey practically rushed out there and into the halls. Without another word, they left Mortimer behind. He's not sure as to why, to be honest, half of the things girls do are really quite confusing.
He scratches his head as he begins to leave. Food may have been served but Mortimer wasn't in the mood to eat. Hardly eaten since his return, Mortimer's mind wanders outside the realm of his reality.
Many were oblivious but Mortimer feels like he's getting worse each day. Despite the friendly conversations and interactions among his peers, a mind like his, there was a sense of decline. He had hoped Dumbledore, or at least Professor Snape, could help him since they knew more.
As said previously, they have all but avoided him for whatever reason. Unfortunately, Mortimer never got a chance to finish the book. The minute he stepped inside the school grounds, Severus had retrieved his possession. It was possible that he had been confronted by the elder Malfoy about his lessons. If that were the case, than Mortimer was doomed. He's attempted to plea with the Potion's master about teaching him further. This only accomplished in annoying the Professor, neglecting the boy at every corner.
Dumbledore, at this point, was useless. Rumors spiraled around the school, favoring the-boy-who-lived, his sights focusing on the gryffindor boy. Mortimer felt side-stepped by the course of actions. He doesn't understand… What made Potter so special? The boy could hardly keep up with the rest of the wizards but was still praised for some made up story.
Standing in the middle of the hall way he takes out his handkerchief. Mortimer clenches his eyes shut. He's gotten good at predicting his nosebleeds by now. Placing it in his nose, Mortimer coolly waits until the flow stops, ignoring the strange looks he was receiving.
"Hey Mortimer."
It was Hermione, standing in front of him. She was holding a couple of book in her arms. His eyes landed on the texts, upper class ranked books that were advanced for someone her age. It clear that her bright mind would be attracted towards more intellectual literature however, didn't explain why she was talking to him in the first place.
Not that he minded, it was unusual to say the least considering these days she spends them with Potter and Weasley.
"Hermione." He mumbles her name, acknowledging her, she looked rather concerned when she spots the piece of cloth hanging from his nose.
"Oh no - Are you ok?" She grips the books tightly, a distracted look casts.
Mortimer nodded, slightly disoriented, he was starting to feel weird again. The same feeling he had when Professor Quirrell got near him…He looks around but is unable to find him the twitchy teacher.
"You get those a lot don't you?" Hermione puzzles as to why. Was it a medical condition? It couldn't be. She's read about the strong resistance that witches and wizards had. They were less likely to get sick or have medical problems like muggleborns were known for.
"Sometimes." Mortimer muttered, bring his hand to his nose again.
Shifting for a few seconds, she asked. "What are you doing in the middle of the hallway?" Her head tilts lightly.
Concentrating, Mortimer attempts to find his voice. "I got kicked out of the library." While he said this, Hermione let out a gasp in shock. "I was helping Davis with transfigurations – Thought I'd be a good tutor."
Granger criticizes his behvior, her brows become low. "You shouldn't be casting spells around. You could have seriously hurt someone you know."
Mortimer was unaffected by her expression, alternatively shrugs. "It was a harmless spell, and she was struggling." There was change in subject. "Where's your friends?" He puzzled.
"I'm guessing the great hall. Harry wants to fill up his belly before detention." Hermione shrugs and stares to her right.
"I heard you got detention as well."
She was surprised he had heard about that. "So does Malfoy." Sounding near defensive.
But mortimer quickly shows his hands in surrender to let her know he wasn't opposing her. "I know, he told me. I tried talking him out of it."
"Well you didn't really do a good job then." Mortimer couldn't disagree, even if he did, she was still right. He didn't bother to try, merely let him walk out the door without debate.
Minutes had gone by that Mortimer was certain the bleeding has stopped. He hears her talking again. "Why didn't you follow him?"
Mortimer doesn't think about it because the answer was easy. "I'm not one of his goons that follow him everywhere. I actually do have a mind of my own you know…"
Hermione only stares at him, her eyes expand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just odd, for someone who's related to Malfoy, you're awfully patient – Like you don't care about what people think."
"That's because I don't." He replied. Narrowing in annoyance before he was caught off guard.
"I wish Neville could see that." Somberly she says, studying him as if he were alien.
He was surprised to hear his name come up. They never really encountered one another. Since the start of the year, Mortimer avoided being in the same room as him. It would appear that Neville had agreed as well. Barely sharing looks, they pretended none have existed.
He thought it best, making allowence for what his mother did to his parents. It felt akward, and Mortimer feeling guilty over something he didn't do, he opted to stay away. "He's right to feel this way." Mortimer calmy says.
"I'm sure once you get to know each other, you'll realise you have a lot more in common." Hermione's failed attempt at inspriring him caused him to stand rigid, he prepares to leave.
No one could understand – or simply didn't want to – but it only worked in proving his point further. That no matter how hard he tried, he'll never change the minds of those who were blinded by the rage, the fear of that was planted by the parents who were gravely effected by murderous wizards.
There was no point in keeping the conversation going, his mood poured in acid. "I'm not here to impress anyone. If Longbottom thinks I'm anything like her…" He seethes at the word, knowing who she was referring to. "Then maybe it's best he keeps his distance – I still haven't forgotten what he did to Draco."
Thinking back at the quidditch match, Mortimer recalls the fight that broke out between neville and draco. Weasley had jumped right at the opportunity, which including crabbe and goyle, Mortimer tried breaking it apart. Aside from hitting Draco, the longbottom kid managed to strike mortimer straight into his gut that he had lost his balance.
No one won the fight as they were all sent to the hospital wing for their injuries. Regardless, Mortimer had nothing against Neville, he was angry and Draco provoking him only made matters worse.
Hermione shakes her head at the discussion. "Malfoy deserved it and you know it."
"True – But Longbottom should have known better than to take the bait." There was no use in sticking around. Sliding his chair in, Mortimer was rather put off by her words. Mainly because he couldn't prove her wrong.
Draco deserved whatever he got, his cousin was too entitled. It was different with Mortimer. When they were alone he acted normal, there weren't any signs on the spoiled snob he met over the summer. But in the public eye, it was a different story. Something about Potter brought the worse in Draco, acting rotten and becoming reckless, Mortimer can't find the proper reasons, other than jealously.
Grabbing his book, along with parchments, he starts to walk away only to find Granger following. He doesn't say anything to her but continues to walk when he passes a few students. The girl was quickly turning troublesome for him that it was really starting to test his patience.
Mortimer moves his legs, waiting for Granger to say something. It was obvious she wanted to say more to him by the way her face was scrunched up, her fingers fidgeting in nervousness. She was mumbling to herself, whether she notices or not, it made him uncomfortable.
Her bushy hair bounces with every step she took when drawing near him. "I'm curious – "
"When aren't you?" Mortimer said sarcastically, avoiding bumping into a ravenclaw.
"You weren't raised around Malfoy – But outside – "
Rolling his eyes, he could see where this is going. "And let me guess, you want to know whether I was raised by a muggle or a death eater?"
Was there truth in Mortimer's answer? She wonders. "Were you?"
"I don't think it's any of your business." He snapped at her intrusive question. It wasn't anyone's business but his own. If he were to respond, it's not like anyone would believe him either way.
Hermione fidgeted, her buck teeth exposed as she chewed her lower lip. "It's not just me that's curious. Ron thinks you're father might have been muggle and the Malfoy's are covering it up."
"Here's the thing Granger, I don't care." Mortimer starts shooing her away. "Weasley can think of whatever he wants and the rest of you can shove off."
This time, she doesn't follow him.
Pacing out of into the halls, he checks his face for any remnants of his once bloody nose. He roams around the corridors for a bit before deciding to head towards the slytherin common room. On his way, he was greeted by a couple of his house mates near the dungeons.
Most of the area was empty by the time he reached the hall that led to the doors of his dorm. His feet drawing close, mortimer was about to read out the password before a voice from behind spoke.
"Black." The displeasure tone made it obvious that it wasn't willingly.
Mortimer had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. After these long weeks the person had finally decided to talk to him. "Professor Snape." He says, moving his head around his eyes met with the stare of dark orbs.
"The headmaster would like a word." Bored and annoyed, he treats Mortimer as a chore.
"Does he deem me important enough?" Crossing his arms, there was bile forming. Watching Snape as he stands, mortimer's imposing demeanor had no effect on him.
"Watch the tone. I'd rid of you if it were up to me. Sadly, the headmaster believes you're worth keeping…"
"Exactly when did I become his pet?"
"When you accepted his help. Now, if you'll follow me, there are things to discuss." Severus doesn't wait for a respond, only leaves to start walking in the other direction.
Mortimer's cracks his neck, ready to receive whatever came his way, wayfaring doom as he approaches the gargoyles that guarded the stairway.
A simple password, it uncovers the protected office where the headmaster rested. His towering rooted posture as he sat behind the cram-full, cluttered desk.
"Mr. Black. Good to see you."
He clenches his hands rather hard, fixing the headmaster with a severe look of irritation. "What – Remember I finally exist?"
Dumbledore's soft face quickly turns into a frown. "I ask you to mind the insolence you are displaying. I'm trying to help you –"
"Are you? Because it seems to me whenever you're trying to help, you end up doing the opposite. You treat me as if I don't exist. When you do, I get nothing out of it." Mortimer waves his hands to express his frustration.
"There are things you don't understand." His face grim with unfortunate events that has yet to come. "Things that could easily put you in danger."
There was denial in his voice, Mortimer was starting to believe that the old man was simply being paranoid. "You say that. But how do I know anything you're telling me is true? You think he's still alive, but if that were true, don't you think he'd show himself? Or give any signs? Why wait?"
Dumbledore sensed the boy's skepticism. No matter, whether he believed him or not was not important – Not yet at least. "I did not bring you here to discuss this topic. But as to why you felt the need to insidiously ask Professor Snape for occlumency lessons when I specifically gave you the explaination that it would be unwise to do so."
Shifting his gaze to the potion master, Mortimer didn't need to guess that he had told the old man. "You told him." He whispered.
Residing near a glass cased bookshelf, Severus didn't even try to hide it. "I did. Why do you think I gave it to you in the first place?"
His hands coming together, they rested on top of the desk as Dumbledore explained further. "Under my orders, I gave him permission to do so. I was curious. But it seems that you have been caught, by your uncle, no less."
His breath caught, a hard pit in his stomach and the base of Mortimer's throat made it difficult to speak. "He's coming here isn't he? He knows I took the book."
The headmaster sighed at him and only nodded in return. "He's ask to speak to you. He's expected to arrive in just a few moments but I thought I'd give you a courtesy call beforehand."
"What am I suppose to tell him?" There was anger in voice. Mortimer had no idea how to tell Lucius about wanting to learn occlumency. The elder Malfoy can't know, he wouldn't allow it. Lucius would never understand. If he were to tell him, it would further prove his point on uselessness of muggles. The savage nature that they held, whereas, the purebloods reigned supreme.
His hands tightened into fists as he thought about Lucius' smug face. Mortimer could hear it now as Lucius spoke.
"I told you dear nephew. These filthy animals have no place here. They fear us, which is why we are hated. It is why they need to be rid of – wiped from existence entirely. With my help, you can drive away these disgusting creatures… just like your father would have wanted…"
It's not true, Mortimer refused to think that humans deserved to be condemned over something as trivial as blood. He also refused to be controlled. Already been done once, mortimer wants to be left alone. He was tired of being bullied, tired of being feared, suspiciously looked at.
Hated for simply existing, there was no end of cruelty. There was questioning as the 'why' to being born had led him towards this path. Around the aristocratic crowd. The relationship had no significance against the other Black, the one rotting away in prison, everyone would gladly put Mortimer at the Black throne if it meant benefiting from him.
Lucius was no help, he wanted the boy to be a Slytherin as much as he wanted a Malfoy to hold on to the power, an equivalence of being royalty. But being the descended of a once powerful wizard could only carry Mortimer so far.
"Are you not a Slytherin?" Dumbledore smiled sadly. "What happened to being cunning? Self-preservation? Resourcefulness? There's a reason why you were placed there in the first place – Don't you think?"
Mortimer thought he was mocking him for a second before realising he was giving him an outing, a way to get out of this situation without revealing too much.
Green firelight caught on the attention of everyone. Containing what appeared to be a figure, exposing it to be non other than Lucius Malfoy.
Polishing himself, Lucius firmly paces towards the boy. "Ah - Mr. Malfoy, it's wonderful to have –"
"I didn't come here to exchange pleasantries Dumbledore. I came to speak with my nephew." Interrupting the headmaster, his silver eyes never left Mortimer as he quietly stood there.
Severus made no movement, as well as Dumbledore. It was up to Mortimer to decide what he wanted to do, to say.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Lucius raised a dark brow, before his become slightly vexed when his nephew denies him a reaction.
Dumbledore decided now was the time to give the family a little privacy. He sprung from his chair, climbing down the small steps. "Should you need anything, I will be waiting outside. Severus?"
Snape was about to move when Mortimer disagreed. Shaking his head, sounding strict, as a command, not a suggestion. "No, I want Professor Snape here."
Had this been Mortimer, the shy inward-looking boy, Snape wouldn't have let him get away with this. But right now, covers need to be preserved. A servant of the Dark Lord, by extension, his offspring, The boy was a force not to be denied. "Very well." Snape replies, staying at his current position.
The only person to leave was Dumbledore. No one paid him mind as he leaves. They were more invested in the boys rebellious actions.
Mortimer gives a quick glance at the two other men in the room. If was time he put on the mask, to give Lucius what he wanted. To be like his father.
"What do you mean?" He asks innocently.
"Don't be dense with me. I know you took it from my office. Now where is it?" A snarl, very far from friendly, made the corners of his thin lips to go down.
There was a feline appearance when Mortimer answered, he was confident. "I gave it back to its owner."
"Who?" He prodded deeper, infusing his voice with just the right amount of sternness.
Pointing behind Lucius, there rested Severus standing a few feet away from the two. Snape's face was empty and guilt-free while dishonesty spread on Lucius'. "How dare you –" Malfoy began to speak.
"I told him to." Mortimer cuts him off. "Ordered him to actually." Answering for the professor, Severus didn't seem bothered by the boy's explain. "You probably already guessed uncle. About my passion to learn occlumency, it's true. I'm very much interested in gaining the skill of the mind."
Lucius' austere nose wrinkled up in one corner as he draw near him, getting upset at the lack of remorse for his disobedience. "For what reason? What are you hiding?"
Mortimer held his ground, with gracefulness and civility. Endeavoring to sound convincing, anteriorly enlightening his uncle. "Me? Nothing?It's about power." A minuscule halt. "You said it yourself uncle. I'm the heir of Salazar Slytherin. I should be allowed to learn far more than any wizard. I deserve it. If I am to continue his work. . . I am to be given every source that is available to me. It's my right as heir of both Slytherin and Black houses. Nothing you say will stop me uncle."
"Why you little sh–"
"Careful Lucius." Severus began, walking away from his previous spot and instead came to stand besides Mortimer, "The Dark Lord will not be pleased to know his heir has been mistreated."
Lucius could not believe what he was hearing – A man he's known for years, dared to side against him. "Listen to yourself Severus! You sound almost as mad as Bellatrix – You're talking about a day that will never come."
A small brow was raised, his hands resting behind his back. "You doubt my father's ability? His power?" Mortimer was learning from recent past studying, mostly from Draco – How a despotic tyrant was expected to respond when questioned. "When he returns, I intend to show him my true worth. Anyone who doubts his return will be punished. You are with me or against me Uncle - Choose."
The potion master gave a shudder of revulsion, the boy's resemblance at the memory of the dark wizard. Pausing to catch his breath, there was nothing else to add. Mortimer's self-proclaimed acting staggered Severus. The idea that a child could think this way, it caused such grim effects.
The room got quiet. Around him, Mortimer felt the two men shift uncomfortably at the manner he was speaking. Going as far as giving his uncle a stern look. It was scary how mortimer himself was starting to believe his own words. A great actor, he appeared to have persuaded malfoy into backing off. By his now silent response, there was nothing lucius could say that would convince mortimer otherwise.
Severus played his part well. Only giving creditability to his story. Their conversation ended when no further response was attempted.
Made haste to the fireplace, Mortimer watched his uncle, Seething through his teeth. Lucius gave the boy a disgruntled look before finagling his way towards the floo.
Mortimer sighed, sinking down his head entirely. Eyes sheepish, there was relief. But then also shame because of how easy it was. Verifying the world's view on him. He could really use a hug right about now.
It was quiet. Somber, the environment was undersireable. Mortimer was bound to be upset enough as pretending to be a brat made him recoiled.
There was something curious about the Professor that Mortimer had to ask. "Whose side are you really on?"
Snape, unwilling to talk, moves away. A few short seconds later, Dumbledore emerges from a corner, never had left the room, he heard everything. "Congratulations. You sounded rather convincing my boy."
"This is what you wanted right? You want everyone to think I am to become him, to follow him… Why?"
The headmaster's bright eyes held firmly on his face, he hasn't moved any closer beyond a giant globe that rested near his desk. "Answering will mean it's true. And it is not. As sad as the reality may be, you need only to convince those who will harm you. Survival is what has kept you alive. If portraying the villain helps you achieve your goals, then I suggest you take it."
Dumbledore sees the coldness reflecting in his face. "Aren't you worried I might go rogue? That I might change my mind and actually want to rule the world? Terrorize people into doing what I want."
"No." Dumbledore replies. Tone of confidence, to think that mortimer was capable of hurting any further, it was not worth considering. It was also important that Mortimer knew it. "Undeterred by the fact of your previous actions, I witness the good in you. My dear boy, you need to be more confident in your own abilities. You can not let the uncertainty of others control you."
He finds it difficult to talk to Dumbledore, close to being cheered up, Mortimer was reminded of the choices accessible to him. It was all about survival. A tactic he will have to continue to use.
The idea of his father being alive modified him. The lack of evidence puts him on edge, especially when Dumbledore says that there is chance of his return. He hoped the old man was wrong.
Out of the blue, Dumbledore speaks again. "There is another thing I wish to discuss."
"Like?" Mortimer asks, taking a curious step towards Dumbledore.
"Occlumency. After some thought, I have decided to allow you to train." Declaring Dumbledore, he watches as Mortimer's expression twisted into a wide smile that was filled with animation.
"Really?" He exclaimed with a bright smile as his posture relaxed in great weight. "Do you really mean it?"
"Yes. But given the predicament surrounding your relatives, I have asked Severus to teach you. Now, you won't start immediately, but in the summer. Is that acceptable?"
Still, giddy, Mortimer stammered trying to show his appreciation. He nods instead. "Yes! It's more than acceptable, It's perfect."
A collective wizard, dumbledore head to desk, to then rest comfortably on top of the cushion. "Good. Professor Snape will take you to the great hall –"
"Actually Headmaster, I rather just go to bed…"
The irresolute appearance in his face did not falter when he questions Mortimer. "This not the first time you have skipped meals. Is everything alright my boy?"
It was hard to describe. It was near comical if one were to think about it. Though, the subject matter was far from funny that it made Mortimer uncomfortable to say, especially in front of the adults. "Ye-Yeah. I'm just trying to avoid someone that's all."
"Who in particular? If I may ask." Adjusting his spectacles, he eyes the boy in a fit of curiosity.
Mortimer cracked his neck, playing with his hand anxiously underneath his robes. "Pansy Parkinson…"
The scrutiny in Snape's dramatic eye roll, along with Dumbledore's entertained guise furthered Mortimer into a corner of his own fluster.
"Ever since that stupid dance, she thinks i'm in love with her!" Mortimer couldn't resist flaring his arms around. "And, she's going around telling everyone that I saved her from that stupid snake!"
"Ah – young love…" Still completely composed, although a mischievous taunting broadcasted his wrinkled face. "I remember my first love, I was –"
"What! No!" Furiously, he shakes his head. "I don't like her! I want her to leave me alone that's all."
The headmaster laughs. The luxuries of child problems was rarely given to the young boy so it made the old man chipper to know the innocence that played in his day to day. "Worry not my dear boy, I'm sure Miss Parkinson will come to terms. Who knows maybe you might feel the same."
His face turns into a dark velvet when his small tense body crunches together. He was ready to die from own embarrassment. "Ugh!" Lowering his head, Mortimer turns to leave. "Goodnight…"
Sounding defeated, Dumbledore only chuckles as the boy's loss pride follows from behind. "Pleasant evenings."
Back in the common room, Tobey rested on Mortimer's stomach. Waiting for Draco's return, he lays near the slytherin fireplace. There was a well placed fuzzy carpet on the cold floor. The others were asleep, including Theo. The area empty, he was left alone to ruminate.
Wearing his jammies, his head planted on the rug, Mortimer was overjoyed to be taught. A long time waiting, he'll finally get the help he's wanted. Maybe this way, mortimer will finally get rid of those nasty memories that hounded him at night. A mind to be given a sense of peace brought in the hope he's been craving.
More than ready, eager to begin. He couldn't wait for the school year to end. Part him didn't even care how his aunt would react. Serves her right, He thought. To have deny him the ability to learn was a crime for those who only wanted what's best. And Mortimer believes that this is the best course of action. For the upcoming years, the security he has for his emotions will be tightly sealed.
Should he share this with his cousin? He's thought about it for a while, it was why he waiting for him in the first place. To tell him the good news. And who knows, if he were to master occlumency, Mortimer could pass it along Draco and teach him.
But how long would it be before his return? Mortimer wonders. Normally detention never stretched this far into the night. Unless Draco got himself in deeper trouble he'd be surprised if he were to return until morning. His cousin can be unpredictable at times, he was reckless around others. It became worrisome when Draco would later go on a rant about a dragon Potter was hiding.
A rustling of sorts, the small but accelerated steps showed Draco entering the common room. It barked panic, as if he had ran all the way here, Mortimer sat up.
Draco's face was covered in sweat, he was out of breath. Silver eyes wide in a state as one would describe as being scared to their wits. There was an untidiness that span over the tousled uniform he wore.
Mortimer frowns and stares at his frantic cousin. Draco realising he made it back, began fiddling with the blond strands of hair. "You alright?"
He was starting to get concerned when Draco stares at the fire, not responding, barely breathing. Mortimer gets up from his rug and reaches Draco. Shaking his shoulders gently, it took a while for his cousin to react.
Draco pauses a moment, considering the question, his mouth opens to talk before closing again. "I-I saw something… something terrible."
"Ok. . ." Strange. What did he see that caused this effect? "What is it."
Draco sighed, running an exasperated hand through his jumbled hair. "I was with Potter…" He told him, frustrated. "We were in the forbidden forest with that dolt of giant. I don't know what happened, there was a noise. And Potter foolishly went to go investigate…" Draco trails off, shaking his head, letting another breath. "That's when we saw it. It – It was drinking the blood of a unicorn! It killed and began eating the creature like it was nothing! I ran away when it started chasing us."
Going up to Draco, Mortimer gently takes a hold of his wrists, causing him to look up at him, he seemed too frightened to even move. "Shh…" Trying to comfort his cousin, he tell him "It's alright. It's over What ever you saw I'm sure the Professors will do something about it."
"Yo-You think?" Frowning a bit, Draco stares back, wanting reassurance.
"Yeah. They have to." Half smiling, Mortimer would go on and say. "Or you'll father will hear about this."
They both start laugh.
Uplifting Draco, Mortimer led him to their rooms where everyone else had taken their slumber. They don't say a word other than goodnight. Different events took place today. However, draco seemed to be effected the most.
It was the first time he's seen him this way. For all his talk about being superior, being the better wizard, Draco was nothing but a small weakling. A scared child trying to play grown-up. Mortimer muses over the idea of what exactly Draco saw in the forest. It has to made up, there was no way a teacher would let their students roam around dangerous grounds without any supervision.
Except, stranger things have happened these days, so maybe Draco wasn't far off. For now he will just have to wait and see what next day brings to him.
"We never finished our talk..." Draco spoke quietly as to not wake the others.
Mortimer notices he couldn't and frankly, neither could he. "We didn't."
"So, Professor Snape gave the book?" A small tone of doubt and intrigue came when he asks. "Why?"
Made reflective for a few seconds, he replied in a low voice. "Remember that thing I told you we would never talk about again?"
Draco gets a little nervy, his cousin practically in jitters. "Yes."
"That's why." A hush whisper.
White noise congests the room.
They both laid on their own respective beds. Draco chews his lower lips in thought while Mortimer's eyes close at the indignity. It was hard to admit it, especially towards people, he despises the lengths he's had to go through just to forget the old hag.
He waits for Draco to say something. But the words never came. Instead, mortimer lapsed into a contemplative state, his hands curling pensively around Tobey, who was laying across his torso.
"Rest." Tobey says, giving his master a comfort lick before settling down.
Assenting to his word, the young Black lapses into unpleasant sleep.