Dead Pond

by Hawzey

Son of Voldemort and Bellatrix. Mortimer was content in his own little world. That is until an old man with the shiniest eyes appears. Now he has to adapt into this new and strange world. With no one to really 'guide' him, Mortimer must now navigate his way and find his own footing. Hopefully the year goes smooth. . . Going on year 4.

43. Chapter 43

AN: There will be a small call back to Ch. 15. Yeah. . . Follow/Fav/Review.

He was going, done for if he didn't get away from the crossfires quickly. The wand in his hand was the only thing keeping him from being fully charred and burnt by the terrible spells that were being flanged at him.

"Bombarda Maxima!" A shout rings from the left side of his ear.

Listening to his instincts, he made a sharp left and slid down on the ground. It grew quiet for a couple of seconds until a loud exploding sound flashed against his very ear drums. To get way, he scampers to his and proceeds to move in a form of a zigzag. It was hard avoiding each and every attack, cover was not possible as he was in an open field, free from any structure or anything that could provide him any protection. Strategy at the moment was limited as he could barely think with the commotion in the background.

"Come on!" Mortimer panted raggedly, shoving the weight of his body into full speed. "Don't hold back!"

Another spell is tossed his way, this one nearly hits the side of his abdomen. He's able to avoid it time but had not perceived the next one that came his way. Forcefully, Mortimer found himself being thrown down on the field. He lands in his face, letting out a groan.

Before he could open his eyes, his hearing told him to get out of the way as lightning strikes towards in the direction where he laid.

Fumbling up to his feet, Mortimer sprints further up towards a rather steep hill. His ears catching the exploding charm, he quickly summons. "Protego!"

It was a close call because as soon as he casted the shield charm, various jets of fire clashed against his own spell. He was almost knocked back a few inches but managed to hold his ground, sliding his body back a few inches.

The rush of blood going through him was willing to risk it as he lowers his shields and follows it by tossing a knockback jinx.

"Expulso!" From a distance, was casted.

The charm that protected him was shattered; the weight of the spell was too heavy to hold that Mortimer was once again thrusted back. Throwing his arm high in the air, he shouts. "Incendio!" With such brutal force, Mortimer watches the fire as it blows up like a bonfire.

"Aguamenti!"

Attack after another, Mortimer was having diffuculty countering each move. Taking several deep breaths, his muscles getting tense and tired. At the same time the adrenaline pulsing in his veins sent an exciting thrill, he didn't want to stop.

A bright blue light shooting near his shoulder, he veers to his right and instantly raises his wand, answering with an ice jinx.

A sequence of hexes was soon followed, aiming to pelt him down aggressively. A long breath, he attempts to dodge them, those he couldn't, casted a quick shield. Swaying his arms in different directions, he wards off the incoming attacks.

Suddenly, before Mortimer could realize it, someone had come from behind, yelling. "Flipendo!"

Losing his balance, he topples down, nearly dropping his wand. In an effort to stay in control he darts to his attacker. Rather than run away, he rushes the adversary. Jumping, Mortimer was about yell out the exploding charm. But too soon, another voice was fast to perform the levitation charm. Whoever said it, used it to pick up a near dog size boulder.

Smashing against Mortimer's own body, the rock was reduced into powder in seconds. There was a loud cracking sound from the attack and for moment, nobody could see as the field had been submerged into a dusty smug.

The atmosphere was quiet. For only the small swishing noises of dowsed sand as it snowed down, scattering in different locations.

Coughing, Mortimer squinted his eyes, padding his body and rubbing the debris on his face. As he starts to shift around, he lets out a painful groan.

"Don't you think that was a little bit excessive?"

"What? He said, don't hold back. . ."

"He said don't hold back, not kill him!"

There was a pause and then a sigh. "Are you ok? Mortimer?"

Getting use to his blurry vision, he rubs his eyes to get a better look. He was still on the ground when his vision gets clearer. Peering up, he was almost blinded by the sun's glare. Theo and Draco standing above him, their shadow's providing Mortimer with a clear view, they were covered in sweat. "Mortimer?" Draco calls.

Clearing his throat, his exhales deeply. "I''m fine -" Coughing to clear his throat. "Nice toss by the way."

Stretching his arm, Theo offers to help him off the ground. "I might've gotten a little carried away. . ." He said once he realizes there were small cuts over his hands.

"No." Polishing his pants, he then blows on his sleeves. "It was perfect." Mortimer responds in a cheery tone.

Mortimer trying to clean himself, Draco decides to intervene. "Hold still." After which had cast the Scouring Charm, instantly washing away the remaining dust that once covered his body.

Making a face that resembled irritation, Draco asks. "Where's the damage?"

To answer his question, Mortimer decides to lift up his shirt. A razzing sound coming from both Theo and Draco when they saw a large bruise forming on his lower rib cage, "Yeah, that's pretty bad looking." Said Theo.

Just as he showed it, Mortimer was quick to cover it. "It's to be expected - Remember what I told you guys from the beginning, no holding back. The other guys certainly won't."

Scratching his head, Draco wasn't entirely too sure about it. "Isn't this is supposed to be practice - Don't you think we should be a little more careful? We wouldn't want to appear suspicious."

"He's right." Theo nods, adding it by saying. "Kind of hard to hide it when you're covered in bruises."

"That's why we have potions." Retorts Mortimer, pointing a finger on the side of his head. "Think guys, are we wizards or not?"

"Ditzy!" Theo calls out. As Draco observed the extent of Mortimer's injuries, an elf wearing a very long bright colored dress, comes near.

"Young Master calls for Ditzy?" The little elf's squeaky voice inquires the request.

"Bring a salve and any healing potion's we have laying around."

Nodding vigorously, the elf, Ditzy, disappears in just mere seconds.

"It doesn't look too bad." Mortimer defended, poking his own flesh.

"You're not fooling anyone..." Slapping his hand away, Draco wasn't convinced nor amused. "Stop touching it, will you?"

"It isn't a big deal." He persists, eyeballing the two in an irritated manner. "The real thing is going to be a lot worse. Bruises won't matter if were killed."

"About that," Theo, rubbing his chin, asks. "What exactly are we preparing for? All this work... for what? Do you plan on starting a war? Early recruitment? You haven't said much since I agreed to help."

"Survival Nott." Mortimer answers, there was no indication of a jest in his tone. "You may not believe me, but Volde -" Theo screws his face, taking several steps back. "Fine - The Dark Lord..." He corrects for the sake of Theo. "He's coming... and when he does, I want to make sure I'm fully prepared. I'm not going out there defenseless, I need to at least know how to hold my ground."

Theo was not easily swayed and instead, had more unanswered questions. "But why would you need to prepare? It's not like he's going to look for you personally. If anyone has more to be worried about it's me and Draco." Eyeing his friend, who seemed to grow quiet. "Our fathers were in his inner circle, they're more likely to push us into joining than you."

Raising a brow, Mortimer challenges that thought by saying. "Uh, excuse me? Have you forgotten who my mother is?"

His eyes suddenly widening, Theo's face goes slightly red. "Oh. . . right... I forgot."

It was well known amongst wizards just how deeply devoted Bellatrix was to the cause. Even after his defeat, she had stood by side, remaining loyal and praising him all the way to her cell. While everyone else hid away and burned any association with his father, Bella had stayed true her beliefs.

It only made sense for everyone else to know her son wouldn't be any different, if not crazier. "My point is the day he comes will be the day everyone starts losing their heads. We're going to be targets for the entire school to start picking on. There will be those who will fear us and then there are those who come after us."

It was only half of the truth. When really it was only a way for Mortimer to improve his skills for the near future. Part of him did fear the inevitable, the arrival of his father and what it meant for Mortimer, he believed he'd be thrust out into the world and sent away to do his bidding. Which would mean going e against certain wizards who wouldn't hesitate to put him down. He refuses to stay defenseless. He only needs enough time to get his family to safety and there wasn't in doubt in his mind, things would get uglier with Voldemort coming.

"But how do you know..." Theo's tone was filled with worry. "that he's... coming?"

Impassive towards his question, he tries replies without revealing much. "I have gut feeling, ok?" Feeling slightly annoyed. "I know I'm not making much sense and I know you're dying to know more but I can't say much at the moment."

"Why not?"

He knows he should probably tell Theo it wasn't Bellatrix he was worried about, more so his father. Yet, the timing never seemed right. Granted that was an excuse he kept telling himself, the reality of it was simply him being afraid. It was a struggle to even talk about it with Draco, considering just how much of an affect one person can make. Mortimer pretends not to notice, but he can sometimes see Draco flinch whenever they talk about the relation he has with his father. It's almost as though he was afraid of Mortimer just because his parents happen to be the worse of the worse.

Thinking further, his forehead crinkled until he's made his decision; it was probably best to keep it hidden. "Because, Nott, if I tell you everything there's a chance you might not like what you hear... Things are going get bad and I'll do what needs to be done." In a low tone, he warns them of his intentions. And while it probably wasn't the best of ideas to get himself into trouble, Mortimer needed to show everyone he was done being a punching bag. Brushing off their expression's he stretches his neck. "Let's not waste any more time." He says while trying not to let Theo's weary expression get to him.

Draco gives him a quick look before turning away, choosing not to meddle. Mortimer knew it was because he believed it wasn't his place to answer questions that might reveal certain things about him, that which he didn't want anyone to know. He plans to keep it hidden for as long as he can, Mortimer only hopes they don't hate him for it.

After the elf had shown up and his wounds healed, they would spend another hour practicing. Mostly focusing on strengthening their shields while the other threw stinging hexes.

The location they had picked out had been that of Theo's very own home. There was an open field not far from the property, with not an adult in sight, it provided great opportunity for them to train. They didn't need to worry, it wasn't like Theo's father would come to check up on the boys, the man was hardly ever home and when he was, he could be seen out cold from the excessive drinking he had done the previous night.

He noticed it after only a month of coming to Nott manor. The place was just as big as Malfoy Manor, the only difference being the interior and design of it. While Malfoy had chosen white marble, Nott opted for a darker color, somehow making it feel a lot colder than it is. It doesn't help Theo's case as for the lack of residents, there didn't seem to be a hint of life in the mansion. It was practically empty, with only Theo and the elves, it was a shame to have to live this way.

By the time they called quits, the sun had slowly begun to descend. Covered in nothing but their own sweat, Draco appeared quite happy to finally relax. Going back inside Nott manner they went through the back doors of the yard where they were greeted by another elf who held a tray of refreshments.

"Same time tomorrow?" Theo asks, grabbing one of the offered drinks.

Nodding, Mortimer starts making his way down the kitchen and towards the doors that would lead them to the living room. Tossing his tired body on one of the leathery sofa's, he sighs. "I need to work on my defense."

Draco takes a sit right across from Mortimer, propping his legs on the table. "You're spell work is great, aggressive, but very effective - You're right though, your shields could use more work."

"Don't you think you guys are taking it a little too serious? I thought this was supposed to be fun for all of us."

"Who said anything about fun? I, on the other hand, plan to evolve far beyond - By the way... where did you learn how to fight? Some of the spells you used, I've never heard of them."

Playing with his glass, Theo takes a long sip. "Father. Said I was too weak and needed to learn how to fend for myself. My mother didn't agree, but after she passed... he got to work, turning me into a true pureblood wizard."

"I guess we should count ourselves lucky, then. I wouldn't know where to start when it comes to dueling." Said Mortimer, trying to see the light of things, he didn't want Theo to think the work they were doing was a fruitless venture. "You're a very good teacher."

Tilting his head, he seemed puzzled by his assessment. "Am I?"

"Very." He confirms, leaning his head back, he stares at the ceiling.

Leaning down, "I can barely feel my legs anymore..." Draco says dully. "I haven't done this much moving since... ever! Flint never made us train this hard, not for a quidditch match at least..."

"Suck it up." Putting his hands on the back of his head, he closes his eyes for a bit, trying to relax his muscles. "Where's all this whining coming from anyways? Isn't this what we wanted?"

"It was fun the first couple of weeks." Draco admitted yet, his pupils grew darker, making the bags underneath his eyes pop. "But then you had to make it unbearable for the both of us. It's more of a task now then it was before." He grumbles out.

In response, Mortimer's expression turns in dark scowl, ready to through his words at him.

"What Draco is trying to say..." Theo comes in, putting himself between the two. "We've been going at it since the beginning of the summer and yeah, it's been great. Certainly, our wand work has improved over the weeks. But - and don't get mad for saying so - I think we could use a break, don't you think?"

A sigh, Theo was right... They've been going at it since the start of the summer. Breaks weren't a known thing and often times the boys had to make excuses as to why they couldn't attend social outings and banquets. They took the lessons serious and were just as determined as Mortimer, and he came to value them as such. They were the one's Mortimer has come to trust and hearing Theo speak to him freely and less fidgety, Mortimer couldn't fault him for it.

"Alright..." Exhaling a deep breathe, he sat up, staring at Theo and Draco. "I guess we could use a break..." Noting their idiot smiles, Mortimer cracks his neck. "Did you have something in mind Theo?"

Seeing as Mortimer didn't have much of clue as to what teenage boys his age tends do in their spare time, especially the magical kind, he thought he'd let Theo take this one. "Actually, me and Draco were thinking of heading out to Diagon Alley. Daphne's family went out of the country for a bit... Tracey thought it'd be nice to hangout; said I could invite you." Studying Draco's displeased stare, he quickly says. "Well, both of you, I think..." Scratching his head.

Theo didn't need to say it as it was already known Draco's lack of popularity amongst the other girls. While they never said anything directly to him, Mortimer would often hear them down talk his cousin, a well-known prat and snobbish git, they tolerated each other for the sake of the house they shared. They could avoid Draco, vice versa since Mortimer always seemed to be dragging his cousin along.

It has been a while since he's last spoken to Tracey, Mortimer saw no harm in it. "Sure. I'll tag along..." Looking at Draco as he crosses his arms, veers his head to the side. "How bout' it Draco? Coming?"

The mere suggestion made Draco roll his eyes. "Pfft - We share the same house. Nowhere in the rules did it say I have to associate myself with a half-blood."

Mortimer couldn't help but notice Theo's clenched up fist. "Like or not, she's our friend and by extension, your friend. As her friends, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to have the both of us - No brooding, Draco, it's unattractive."

Warding off Mortimer's playful grin, he grumbles underneath his breath. "I'd rather do something else..."

"Like?" Both Theo and Mortimer asked.

"Flying." Draco's eyes sparkled in delight; you'd think he'd start bouncing. "It's been a while since I've picked up a broom... I'd like to go over to fields and fly around, practice catching the good ol' snitch."

A small hum, Mortimer nods at the idea. However, Mortimer wasn't exactly jumping for joy at riding a broom. He wasn't bad at flying, but he wasn't good at it either, amateur at best. "I'm sure we can squeeze that in our busy schedule." Clapping his hands together, Mortimer stood up. "Glad that's settled."

Deciding it was best to leave now, Mortimer gathers himself, collecting Draco in the process.

Heading towards the fireplace, "Let's head back before your mother starts sending in the howlers." grabbing a handful of floo powder. "We'll meet back here tomorrow..." At which, Draco follows suit, powder at hand and tossing it before disappearing. With Draco gone, Mortimer turns back towards Theo who remained quiet. "You know you don't have to stay here alone, your welcome to stay with us for as long as you'd like."

A splash of pink flusters on the side of Theo's face, catching him off guard. "Thanks... but I don't think that's such a good idea. Missing for a day will be bad enough, he'd automatically assume I've run away and who knows what he might do." Smiling, he tries to convince his friend. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. Besides, you'll be here tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, definitely." Leaving no room for doubt, he swiftly replies and throws in the floo powder, "We'll keep working on shields, and maybe after experiment for a bit."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Everything we're doing is considered dangerous, and probably illegal considering we're still minors." Saying it out loud was quite thrilling as he's never done anything like this. Theo's worried expression was almost laughable when Mortimer smirked. "Don't worry about it, we just have to be careful... that's all."

"If you say so." Theo dulled, folding his arms he was not easily swayed.

Saying goodbye, Mortimer vanishes into the fire. By the time he'd take a few slow steps out of the chimney, Mortimer felt on his feet go out from under him. An aching sensation, he lifts his pants to find the cause, surprised to find small bruises all over his calf muscle, it must've slipped his mind as he wasn't sure how he got them in the first place.

"Are you alright, Mortimer?" Soft as her voice was, there was a hint of alarm as Aunt Cissy approaches him. "What happened to your leg?"

Given seconds to think, Mortimer didn't want to blurt out the first excuse he came up with, that of falling. Rather, attempted to excuse himself by saying, "I fell off a broom trying to dive down the field."

A sound of hurt emitting from her mouth and Narcissa paces quickly in his direction. "You ought to be more careful, you could've seriously injured yourself - Will you stop poking it, you'll make it worse!" Frustrated and displeased with her nephew's carelessness, she yells out. "Niffy!"

At her call, the short shy little elf appears from the air. "Mistress calls for Niffy?"

Narcissa, still focusing on Mortimer's ghastly appearance. She notes the amount soot that was over his body, his face glistening from overbearing amount of sweat and his disheveled hair going in different directions. She made it no secret just how grossed out she was. "Ugh! Yes, Niffy, take my nephew..." Scrunching up her face and turning back to the elf. "and have a bath ready for him, make sure he is scrubbed down. I want no remnants of dirt. Then, I want that leg of his taken care off, I'll stop by with a potion once he's done with."

"I'm fine! Really, I don't need a bath -"

"Hush now." Narcissa waving her hand, silenced his protests. "I don't want to hear it - Oh and see..." She takes hold of his shirt, stretching the fabric to show him. "Look what you've done to your brand-new shirt! What is this? Is that blood? Have you been fighting? Honestly, you boys. . ."

Is this what having a mother felt like? Being scolded; Mortimer listened to her lecture while parts of him died slowly. Staying silent, he didn't interrupt out fear it is becoming another lesson. Instead, he plays it safe by nodding and agreeing, making humming noises to let her know he was listening.

The little elf that stood behind them was even making squeaking sounds. Pulling her ears, making it appear as though it was her being yelled at, her eyes widening as she pitied the boy.

After who knows how long, Narcissa finally dismisses him. "Go on. I want you sharp and pristine by dinner - Don't think I haven't forgotten about your injury." Muttering to herself, he could hear say. "I'll need to speak to Draco as well. . ."

Mortimer didn't have the energy to fight against her will. Regardless of his wounded pride, he complies with her demands. Exhaustedly following the little elf leading him up the stairs and into overly sized bathroom. It was there he'd be stripped and held down, scrubbed until his skin turns red, his hair tugged and pulled he thought he'd go bald from it. No one could hear his pleads as he begged for the tiny elf to cease the deep sterilization of his body.

For someone so tiny, Niffy had proved to be quite strong. Capable of dealing with the unwilling boy who fought against her when she squeals out. "Still! Be still young Mortimer!"

Doors sealed shut, the hallways were filled with unremitting sounds of gurgles and splashing water.

---

Strolling the pavement streets of Diagon Alley, Mortimer, Draco and Theo headed down towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Paying no mind to the other shops, they accepted Davis' invitation beforehand, sending her letter that they'd be joining her in the afternoon.

As soon as they arrived, Tracey instantly got up from where she was sitting and rushed to go greet them. "You made it!" Taking the time hug Theo. "and you came too!" She switches from Nott to Mortimer. "I'm glad you could come. It's been awfully lonely without Daphne. . ." Her near somber gaze, she quickly shakes it off. "She writes often though, said she'll be back at the end of the month, just before your birthday, Mortimer!"

Moving his head to the side, he was flabbergasted to hear this. "My birthday? You remember my birthday?"

Her face going red, "No! Yes? Wait -" she shakes her head harshly, yelling to recover from the limitless amount of mortification running down her body. "I-I meant to say... You're my friend, that's all."

Her lame attempt, Mortimer didn't push a further response. "Right. . ." However, she did bring up an interesting idea. How well does Draco know him? Did he know when his birthday was too? Or perhaps his favorite hobbies? Looking at Draco with narrowed eyes, he asks. "Draco, what's my favorite color?"

Taking a step back, his expression turned in puzzlement as he was unprepared. Nevertheless, it didn't stop him from saying. "How the hell should I know?"

Hmm... that answers one question. "Why don't we take our seats?" Trying to sway the exchange, Thep uad suggested they move.

Unknowingly Mortimer and Draco followed, whilst he continued to throw personal questions at the glaring blond.

"What's my favorite food?"

". . ."

"Am I left-handed? Or right-handed?"

". . ."

"What about my shoes? What material do you suppose they used?" Lifting on his legs, he formerly shoves his shoe in Draco's face.

Unamused, Draco promptly pushes it away, shouting out. "Who cares about your bloody shoe?"

For the next hour the two would bicker while Nott and Davis sat back, watching in amusement. Draco's face would change into different shades of red, during which time Mortimer was starting to open up to the idea of going out more.

Things had eventually cooled down and everyone was able to enjoy their frosted desserts. Well mostly everyone, all except for Mortimer, staring off into space, they didn't notice it immediately, nor did they react. At this point, they were simply so use to it, they saw nothing wrong with him immediately.

Reflecting the last few weeks, he realizes he's spent nearly half the summer training at Theo's. Yet he feels as though little progress was made. He thought by now he'd at least be in range with some of the adults. It was a dumb dream, but it was one he thought he could accomplish with enough practice. The result of yesterday's training showed him that he was far from improving. Aware of this, part of him was frustrated. The pace they were going didn't seem to be enough for him, he wanted more. He wanted a challenge, the real deal. To go against someone who won't hold back, someone who truly wanted to hurt him and isn't afraid to do so.

He needed...

"Black!"

Jerking his head up, the three of them were staring at him. "Yes?" He responds, trying to appear as normal.

Theo, gestures his hand at him, "Your ice-cream is melting..."

Lowering his eyes, Nott wasn't lying when he said it. Mortimer didn't even think much time had passed, it felt like only seconds that they arrived. But from the looks of it, it's been several minutes since sitting down. Staring down at his plate and notices his treat was losing its solid form. Quickly turning into soup, Mortimer was undisturbed by it and instead grabbed it with both hands, sipping it while making the slushiest of sounds with his throat.

His actions clearly made them want to scratch their heads, "Are you ok, Mortimer?" hearing Tracey ask.

Clearing his throat and wiping his mouth using his sleeve, Mortimer nods. "Sorry, I was over thinking again."

"Oh!" Davis chirps up in curiosity. "Nothing too serious, I hope?"

"No." Picking his spoon up, he flashes her a quick smile.

"Are you sure?" Nott adds, lifting one of his brows. "We can head out, if you want."

"And leave Davis alone?" Mortimer teased, pointing at Theo's blushed face. "How about Draco and I leave, the two of you can catch up. I'm sure Theo can tell you all about the boring gatherings us high-class nitwits are up too these days."

Not giving either one the chance to say anything in return, Mortimer gets up from the table, "Coming, Draco?"

Signaling his dear cousin, Draco was in the process of cleaning his mouth using a napkin. "Gladly." he says before tossing the linen onto the empty bowl.

"Wait!" Tracey nearly cries out. "I-I..." She chews her bottom lip. "I hope you're not leaving because of my presence. . ."

Her confession was surprising to hear. "No." Trying to ease her worries, Mortimer would say. "Of course not, you're my friend - Don't think otherwise."

"Then why are you leaving?" By the sound of voice, he could tell she was getting upset. "Why can't we go with you?"

"What's it to you Davis?" Draco throws out into the open. "What we do is our business. Stay out of it if you know what's good for you."

Elbowing Draco, the last thing Mortimer wanted was a fight to break out between the two. "Don't listen to him, he's a bit cranky, forgot to take his nap -"

"And will you stop speaking for me!" Draco shouts, slamming his hands against the table, the owner of the shop had to lift his head to see the commotion that was going on in his store. Noting the attention, he's brought on himself, Draco let's out a sigh, leaving the shop, he doesn't wait for Mortimer to follow.

The bell ringing and the door slams shut; he didn't know what was happening with Draco.

"Is Draco going to be alright?" Theo asked, concerned for Draco, he was usually collective. The only time the blond would lose his cool was when Potter was in the room and seeing the absence of said boy, there wasn't a particular reason as why Draco would be upset.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry..." Tracey's saddening expression had him apologizing.

"It's fine." Shuffling to feet, Mortimer begins to walk out of the shop. "And don't listen to what he says... You're still my friend." Moving his attention to Theo, he too appeared speechless. "I'll catch up with you later."

Pressing his lips shut, Theo nods in response, shifting his attention towards Tracey. "Let's go visit the joke shop, I'm sure we can find Daphne something she might enjoy -"

Without hearing the rest, Mortimer heads out into the busy street. Traffic of bystanders, he could hardly see out into the distance. The only reason he was able to spot Draco in the first place was because of the iconic Malfoy hair which stood out from the crowd.

Going after him, Mortimer was careful not to bump into too many people, keeping his eyes forward, he didn't want to lose Draco among the swarm of pedestrians walking left and right, some of them holding the largest of bags and towers of wooded crates carrying vast amount of strange creatures.

"Draco! Wait up!" Mortimer manages to yell across. Still, it wasn't enough as his call was muffled by the loud rumbling of mutters coming from both sides of the streets.

Calling his name a few more times, he nearly stumbles when his eyes caught something unusual. Looking earnestly at Draco, he thought he could see him being taken from the side and into a nearby alleyway.

What in the world?

Strange as it was, Mortimer doesn't ask any questions. He then swiftly moves ahead, skimming over a few wizards. Drawing near he cpuld almost hear a faint voice, it wasn't very welcoming.

"... your father isn't going to save you this time, Malfoy."

"Let me go -" A faint grousing voice that could only belong to Draco.

The closer Mortimer got, the more presence he felt as he caught three figures looming above the blond. The fear in Draco's face was quick to let him know the other people weren't friendly. Their intentions were made clear when one of them grabs Draco by the collar of his shirt, shoving him harshly against the grubby brick wall. He tries to push back but was unsuccessful as for when he does, he is immediately rammed right back.

The sight of Draco being grabbed by the nameless targets, Mortimer's blood starts to boil.

"What's your father doing with the minster, huh? Trying to buy his way into politics now? School governor not enough?"

"I don't have to answer to to you! I don't have to answer to any of you!" He huffs out, his face becoming red. "Wait until my father hears about this!"

However threatening as he tried to appear, the small group were not intimidated. Instead, they burst out laughter.

It angers Mortimer further when they started to accuse Draco of associating himself with death eaters. Mocking him and puahing him around, the panic in his cousin's eyes, he looked helpless.

Mortimer didn't like it one bit.

The one holding Draco suddenly takes out his own wand, sharply aiming it underneath his chin. The cold fear in Draco's eyes, he couldn't stand back and take it anymore.

Gripping his wand tightly, Mortimer has heard enough. A reckless decision, he acts on an impulse that couldn't be restraint. "Stupefy!"

The spell hitting the two lackies, they went down without a hitch. Leaving their ring leader - Mortimer assumes to be - let's go of Draco, prompting him to quickly look back.

There was something familiar about him. . .

And then it hits him.

In those very short moments, his eyes seemingly turn dark. Rage overcoming his emotions, he doesn't give the man a chance to say anything. "Flipendo!"

A single blow, the man in the uniform was tossed across the pavement floor, slamming against a few empty barrels.

"Holy shit!" Draco shouts, breathing heavily he looks at the three unconcious figures. "I-I can't believe you did that! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Pacing down where they laid, Mortimer bends down to pull their robes off, exposing their sorry faces. Grimacing at each one, he goes for the head leader.

"Mortimer! We have to go!"

Hearing Draco call, Mortimer ignores him. His feet slowly making their way further to the unmoving body laying flat on the dirt cobble stone. His feet clicking together when he stops. Within hands reach, he pulls the hood that covered his face.

A short gasp.

He hasn't seen him in such a while, he nearly forgot how he looked like. All this time he wondered what became of him after their little scuffle.

"Mortimer are you listening? We have to get out of here before anyone sees!"

The memories suddenly coming back to him, hitting him in a series of flashbacks. Recalling every punch, every kick, every insult that was ever thrown at him.

"Mortimer?"

A smile slowly creeping down, Mortimer leans to his level, calling his name in an almost savory tone. "Anthony Hinton. . ."

"Wh-What?" Draco said from above. His back turned from him, Mortimer could feel his confusion. "Do you know him?"

Does he know him? Mortimer thinks about it for a while. Of course he does! The once Gryffindor student who made his first year a living hell. How could he not remember? Parents would say he was the sweetest boy, teachers often called him studious, while friends will say he was loyal to his lot.

But they didn't know him, not like Mortimer.

His true self showed by the times where young Mortimer was chased throughout the school's corridors. Tripped so hard, his books would fly several feet away. And who could forget the countless beatings he took while everyone else watched.

Yes, he knew him better than anyone else.

Studying the sleepy wizard, he lifts up the head, gazing in awe.

"Mortimer?" Draco's nervous voice repeats again. "Who is he?"

Dropping his head, Mortimer cleared his throat, composing the excitement in his tone. He was many things, most consisted of bad words and insults to one's entire being. No longer a boy, but a man, a fully grown, adult sized man... Mortimer couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Answering him would probably take too long and frankly, he doesn't expect Draco to remember. In the most basic of words, Mortimer says. "A bully."

His eyes never seem to leave the unconscious gryffindor, Mortimer didn't want to leave. He wanted to enjoy this small moment. "You mean. . . the one's from first year?" Draco said, progressively he starts to remember.

"Yes." Coolly, he readjusts his shirt, fiddling with his hair, he never takes his eyes away from the still gryffindor.

"Mortimer." Draco's grim announcement, he stands behind him. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You attacked an Auror! Not just one, three. . . Aurors! They'll arrest you if they find out you've been doing magic outside the school!"

His panicked, shaken up body, Mortimer turns his head. Still passive, he didn't seem worried at the news. "They're not going to do anything..." Rolling his eyes, Mortimer darts his eyes back at laying body. "What are they going say? Tell their superiors they got bested by an underage wizard? But if you're so worried... I say we get rid of them, put them where no one will ever find them."

"That's not funny." Draco whispered; his breathing was getting heavier. Pleading with him, he extends his arm out, gripping it on top of Mortimer's shoulder. "Let's just go before anyone sees us."

Scowling, Mortimer didn't want to leave. There are certain things brewing inside his mind, opening a box of uncharted ideas he hasn't thought of. Things he didn't think were possible. Revenge and payback pulled at him, to make the older man regret his past decisions. Mortimer wants the now Auror to wake up, to see Anthony's face when he realizes it was him who attacked. What would he say? Would he cower away? Or fight back? Nah, he was the stubborn sort. Hinton was more likely to bark out for his wounded ego than ever apologize.

Draco was now shaking him for his attention, his voice was getting increasingly loud. "Mortimer! We're leaving, now!"

Without saying a word, he lets Draco pull him away from the scene. Nearly pushing themselves against the crowd, Draco refused to stop until they were a few blocks away. Ending at the edge of Knockturn Alley, Draco exhales deeply, trying to get a grip.

Mortimer on the other hand stood a few inches away, seeming rather content and unbothered by what just transpired.

A hard grimacing look, Draco breathes out. "Your eyes."

Frowning, he quickly searches his pockets. Taking the small mirror - Draco was right. The deep ruby eyes have taken over, making him unappealing. However, he doesn't let it stay there for long as he grabs his wand. Pointing it at himself, he's to perform the charm that vanishes the unattractiveness from him. Returning it back to its original color.

"Why did you attack them?" Raking through his hair, Draco appeared confused.

As if the answer hadn't been obvious Mortimer replies. "They were going to hurt you."

Shaking his head, the answer wasn't enough for him. "You don't know that! They asked about father, they wanted to know why they've become chummy with one another - That's it!"

"I know him." Taking a step forward, he was easily agitated by Draco's defense. Why defend the bully when he so rightfully deserved it. "He would've hurt you if I hadn't come in. His type never changes, it's probably why he became an auror, didn't want to lose the power he had."

But he didn't seem to be listening, denying everything to what he was saying. "You shouldn't have touched them."

"I wasn't going to give them the chance." Walking closer, he ignores the various of scruffy looking wizards gazing at them. "Doesn't matter now... They got away unscathed. The punk deserved more than what he got; he needs to be punished."

"For whom?" Raising a brow, Draco challenges him. "It's sounds to me your still sore about what he did to you in first year. Maybe you did it for yourself rather than 'save' me. Which is it? You sound selfish."

Clenching his jaw, he didn't want to appear as though his words had affect. Yet, his anger arose at the notion, the blond dared to question his motives.

Maybe he should be the one to be punished.

No. He shouldn't be saying such things. However, repressing the smirk tugging his lips, he couldn't shake off t visual of them still laying there. He wonders if they've awoken. Would they start searching for him? He didn't think they would. Perhaps the hit was enough to make them forget.

It was no longer important; Draco was safe, and they got away. "What's wrong? Why did you storm off like that? I thought we were having a nice time."

Now it was Draco's turn to show the uneasiness casting on his pale face. "Forget it, it doesn't matter." Ruffling through his hair. "Mother is going to kill us. . ." He tells himself.

After standing there for a few minutes and meeting the silence that soon follows between them, Mortimer begins to walk back towards the busy streets. Aunt Cissy should be the least of their worries. Then again... having to deal with the wrath of an anger mother, Mortimer had to reconsider his response.

---

They were quiet for the rest of the trip. Both unsettled and preoccupied with their own thoughts, the evening had set once they arrived back to Manor. Coming right out of the living room's fireplace, they dust away the remaining residue.

It appeared well enough, quiet and free from commotion, Mortimer was about to head upstairs. Having attacked the group of Aurors, Mortimer deemed it unimportant. Dropping the issue, he thought about writing a letter to one of his friends considering the time they've been away; he almost never sees them during this time.

Walking right out of the living room, he went to pass the kitchen's and then towards the dining area until going through a few doors that led him to the main hall of the manor. He thought little of where the others would be. Draco, trailing from behind, follows. Very surprising, he thought maybe he'd want his space after what had occurred. He was still rather annoyed at the blond for having sided with the enemy. It wasn't like he was going around looking for trouble. Contrary, trouble just always seemed to follow.

Taking the first few steps up, it wasn't until his foot made contact on the fourth tread that he hears his name being called. "Boys! Come down here this instant!"

It was from Narcissa, no less, and she sounded quite upset. A huff, his shoulder slumped downwards while Draco becomes tense. "What are we going to do?" Asking worriedly, he wait for him to make the first move.

Snapping his head back and forth, Mortimer adjusts himself. "Let me do all the talking..."

Advancing back down, he can faintly see Narcissa, Lucius and two other males standing in front the entrance doors.

Reading their expressions Mortimer could safely say this wasn't a friendly visit. Aunt Cissy looked vivid while Lucius appeared cold, no more than usual. One of the men stood tall, his hands resting behind his back, he had slight yellowish hair with eyes to match. The other man wore a pointed hat, but underneath Mortimer could spot dark bangs of hair. Both wearing what could only be Auror uniforms, their badges resting on the side of their upper chests gave away what Mortimer dreaded to hear.

As they reach the adults, Draco's nerves increases rapidly that Mortimer could see small glints of sweat forming on the side of his temples. Yet for some odd reason, he wasn't as worried. Should he be? He didn't intentionally mean to hurt anyone... A little lie he knows, but they didn't need to know. He just needed to stay calm and explain the situation properly.

When the boys were close enough, Narcissa didn't waste time to speak. "Mortimer these men are here because of an incident. . . Would you like to explain it to them?"

Their presence here was odd. He didn't see why they needed to be here. "I thought I'd be receiving a letter, not a visit." Was the crime really that bad?

The man that stood firmly begins to clear his throat, approaching the young boy. "Why yes, normally a warning is sent to the user's family to notify them about the dangers of underage magic. However, when we were signaled, I was surprised to have found your name floating in my office - Another Black? I thought the name had dried out - Couldn't really believe it, I had to see for myself."

Titling his head, Mortimer was skeptical. Noting the man's grin, it made him feel a tad bit uneasy. "And who exactly are you?"

"Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror office." A slight bow of the head, he introduces himself and raises a small hand, gesturing the man behind him. "And this my partner Gawain Robards." His partner nods in acknowledgement. "We were notified that two spells were thrown. . . A Flipendo and Stupefy. Both jinx spells - I might add - were casted this afternoon. A boy as young as you shouldn't be throwing spells out in the open. It is a concern."

"Are you here to warn me?"

"To warn, yes." Adjusting one of his legs, he had a slight limp when he took a step forward. "and perhaps, get your side of the story."

The other man, Gawain, asks, leaving no opportunity to think. "We found three Aurors injured in the back streets of Diagon Alley, near Slug and Jiggers Apothecary."

Narcissa eyes widen, covering her mouth using the tips of her fingers. Lucius remained quiet watching it play out.

Mortimer wasn't sure what they were expecting. How should he react? Do they want him panicking and blubbering out excuses, there wasn't. And he was tired of pretending. "I did it." He spoke softly and without remorse. "I was the one the who threw the stunning spells."

"Mortimer, how could you?" Narcissa gasps. "That was very foolish of you."

"Young man, do you know the crimes against an authoritative figure are?" Setting out to straighten Mortimer he continues. "What you did can land you in a very dark -lonely - place."

However, threatening they tried to be, Mortimer was unmoved from his position. Why should he feel guilt for his actions? They deserved it. "They were going to hurt Draco." He said darkly, shoulders sharpening he didn't step away.

The announcement had everyone reacting. With aunt Cissy showing her dismay, managing to get a twitch out of Lucius.

"That is absurd." The Auror exclaimed, unwilling to consider the idea. "What reason would they have to pick on children?"

"They pulled Draco into the alley, they wanted to know why his father was all buddy-buddy with the minister." Mortimer's brows lower further at his refusal. "and when he refused, Hinton took out his wand and pointed it right at Draco. So, excuse me if I overreacted." Sneering, he said sarcastically, the adults seemingly getting dumber with ever response.

Wrapping an arm over his shoulders, she protectively kept him close. "Draco is this true?"

The adults eyeing the heir, they wait for Draco to answer. Sharing a quick glance, he was reluctant for some reason, to the point that Mortimer was sure he wouldn't answer.

"Ye-Yeah..." And finally, he hushly replies, though he appeared as though he was defeated. "Mortimer was only trying to help." Trying to brush off his mother's caresses, he is unsuccessful. "Mother..."

"A Very interesting thought, I have noticed this as well." Darting his eyes to the elder Malfoy, the slight grumpy man narrows them in curiosity. "Have anything to add, Malfoy?"

A developing suspicion against the man, the family's patience was getting thinner. "I had hoped to keep it a surprise. But, if you must know, Scrimgeour - Weeks of cuddling up to the minister, I've been invited to attend the world cup, front row."

A loud gasp, Draco's eyes sparkled in excitement, anticipating the prospects of going. Seemingly he forgets about the depths of their predicament.

"Be that as it may." Robards narrowing his eyes at Mortimer, he brings back their reason. "You used magic outside of the school. Worst of all, you've publicly attacked a group of Aurors. Actions need to be made to ensure the safety of the public."

"Are you going to arrest me then?" Mortimer challenges. Was he scared? Sure - anyone in his position would be. Intimidating they may be, but he was still child, what's the worst that could happen?

A silly notion, he doesn't want to find out. "Might I be so bold as to inquire about your birth mother?" Hearing the head Auror question. "Are you aware of her existence."

"Mortimer you don't have to answer." Narcissa said out loud. She's had enough of their pestering and their questions were becoming more and more intrusive. "You've out stayed your welcome. Rest assure, gentlemen, Mortimer will see repercussions for his actions." Having released her son, she puts a hand on her nephew's shoulder. "We thank you for the warning. Now, if you'll excuse us, I want to make sure no further harm was done to them."

"But - " The other Auror, in a fit of panic, spoke rapidly. "There is still the matter of the attack! The boy has yet to answer for his -"

"You heard my wife." Lucius paces towards the doors. "Frankly, this has been nothing but a waste of time. If the issue is so dire, as you two seem to believe, I will discuss it further with the minister. Your presence is no longer needed. Good evening."

Scrimgeour pursed his lips, a thousand thoughts floating the auror's mind, gives a brief nod. "Of course, forgive the intrusion then."

"You can't be serious! Rufus!" His partner argues, almost jumping on the spot. "What about the boy?"

"Enough, Gawain, we've bothered them enough. It is getting rather late..." Turning over, Rufus decides to see his way out. "And Lucius... I'd watch myself if I were you. If your nephew belongs to, who I think he does, it does not bode well for others, should word spread."

"Spare me the threat, Scrimgeour." Lucius scoffs out, rolling his eyes. "You and your partner have violated protocol by showing yourselves here without authorization. Be glad I'm not taking it up to Fudge and the rest of the board about of this. Such a disgrace."

"I am head of the Auror office, I don't need permission. It doesn't take research to know when a Black is up to no good, especially one that is related to a Malfoy." Rufus glares at Lucius while simultaneously opening the door. His partner, Robards, follows as well. Yet, unlike Scrimgeour, he didn't hide the vexation from overcoming his face.

In Mortimer's eyes, he could see how this could be a bad thing. By now, he thought he'd shaking in his breeches if the men were threatening to expose him right out into the public. Strangely enough, he wasn't.

Once the Aurors had left the Manor entirely, he thought he take a moment to prepare for whatever punishment aunt Cissy had in store for him. "Draco, I want to go clean up, dinner will be ready soon."

"Mother - Let me explain..." Listening to them, he lowered his eyes, choosing to stare right at the floor. "It wasn't Mortimer's fault. I went ahead without him, I didn't think anything would happen, he really was trying to help -"

"Draco enough, go upstairs." Narcissa orders, her tone sharp, Draco knew his attempts were useless.

Apologizing with just his eyes, Mortimer smiled softly and gave the blond a quick nod, letting the boy know it was ok. When Draco did finally leave the room, Mortimer was left to face Lucius and Narcissa alone. What would they say to him? What was there to say? Should he apologize? He didn't believe he should, doing so would mean he held some sort of remorse. Which he didn't, he wasn't sorry, he didn't regret what he had done. If he could, Mortimer would've probably done it again, if given the chance. So why say sorry for something he didn't mean.

As he waits, he rotates his neck for a few seconds, getting rid of some of the tightness around his muscles. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" Narcissa asks quietly.

"You worry too much." Minding Lucius, he stood only a few feet away. "The boy is clearly fine and from what the Robards has said, it's them that should be looked at."

A jagged glance to her husband, she pays him no mind and goes to Mortimer, inspecting his face for any injuries. "I disapprove with how you handled the situation. But I will not deny it, you did the right thing in protecting Draco." Taking hold of him, she brushes back his hair. "Using magic outside of the school was very dangerous of you. It not only puts us in a difficult situation but can easily place you in danger. I cannot stress enough about your safety, should anything happen to you, I'd never forgive myself. I plead, nephew..." Her soft eyes tearing away the rough edges on Mortimer face. "Next time, you feel the need to cast away that wand of yours, refrain from doing so."

Faint brooding, he agrees to do better. "I will and I'm sorry for causing you any trouble," Eyeing Lucius and Narcissa. "to both of you. I wasn't thinking."

He didn't know what came over him. Even before realizing it was the gryffindor that pushed him around, the sight of them touching Draco caused his eyes to darken. Maybe he was being overprotective, and maybe, he did cross the line with that display. But was he really at fault? Instincts were simply kicked; he was instantly blinded from any sort of rational thought.

"I know. You'll do better." Narcissa smiled, rubbing small circles on his back. "Any moral adult will say what you did was uncalled for. But as your aunt - I have to say - good boy."

Chuckling, Mortimer nods again before asking. "And what about my punishment?"

For a second, Narcissa twisted her lips while her eyebrows crossed. Seeming as though she was having a hard a time coming up with a solid answer. And then, she answers. "No pudding for you."

Certainly not the response he was expecting. "Excuse me?"

"That's right." Narcissa bobs her head firmly. "For your punishment, you shan't receive pudding. . ." Her voice dwindles, not sounding too confident. "and will simply head straight to bed..." Trying to reiterate tightly. "Are we clear?"

Who was he to fight with her? "Crystal."

"Good." Patting him away, she starts moving up towards the kitchens. "I'm going to check up on Draco." Gazing over to her husband, who has yet to move. "Lucius? Aren't you coming?"

"In minute dear," The elder Malfoy says distantly, there was intrigue dilating in his pupils as they were trained to his nephew. "There is something I wish to discuss with Mortimer."

Knowing him all too well, she wants to put an end to it before it can possibly begin. "Lucius, leave him be. It's been delt with."

"Calm, wife, I nearly wish to express my gratitude for protecting our boy."

Having said that, she didn't believe him and merely gave him one of those warning looks. "Fine - But be quick, I want no more lingering from anyone and no more talking about what happened. It's over."

"Of course..." A nod, Lucius calmly states. "Whatever you say."

Somehow, Mortimer didn't believe that was all the man had planned to say. So, when Lucius began to talk, he was not surprised to hear his uncle telling him. "While I do want to thank you for caring after Draco - What I want to know is where do you and my son run of to, practicing magic outside the school, throwing spells at one another... fighting."

"Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb. You think I haven't noticed Draco limping around the manor or you coming home with scorch marks on arms?" Motioning with just his head, he made a quick glance to Mortimer's left arm. "You've been doing it for quite a while too... How were you able to get pass the trace?"

Chewing the inside of his cheek, there were two ways he can go on about this. One was to lie and simply play the fool. Lucius may be dumb, but he somehow didn't think he'd fall for the excuses. Or two, come out with the plain truth. Both would easily put him in trouble.

Rubbing his neck, he goes on. "We've been going to Nott's house. His father had placed several runes around the manor to avoid certain detections."

"And the training?"

"Theo." Clicking his feet together, he straightened his back. "He's been teaching us since the beginning of the summer." It was better to simply pass the blame onto someone else, thought, Mortimer didn't think it'd be wise. "I ordered him to. He told me his father had trained him at a young age, I thought that maybe he could teach me a few spells."

Mortimer could practically see the man sneering at him. "And what reason could you possibly have for wanting to endanger the lives of those around you."

"Defense, mostly." Shrugging, he tries to come off as nonchalant. "If you haven't noticed uncle... I'm not particularly well liked around the school. No one seems to bat an eye when Bella's kid gets his just desserts. I can't go to anyone. Who am I to confide in, Dumbledore?" Hearing Lucius scoff, it seemed to be working. "I just thought, if I could at least defend myself, the others would be less inclined to attack. As you said before, I am Black, it's time I start acting like one. I am fixing my own problems."

"And Draco? What does he have to do with it?"

"Nothing at all. He only wanted to be a part of it. It's not every day the opportunity to learn defensive spells comes around. He insisted he join. I knew neither of you would approve, so I merely chose not tell you." After telling him the small details of his plan, he expected many things from Lucius. A warning, maybe even a threat.

"You will stop this immediately." Lucius, extends a finger at him, ruling out what Mortimer knew would happen eventually. "You've gone behind my wife's back, broken the wizarding law, endangered the life of my only son. Worst of all, you've brought Aurors into my home. They're going to start watching us from now on. One more mistake and we won't be able to save you." Shaking his head, he swayed his arm forcefully. "You will cease this foolish quest of yours. Understood?"

Without blinking, Mortimer would have argued forward. However, seeing the extent of the damages he's brought into the Malfoy home, he nods. "Fine."

His answer seems to have satisfied him enough to say no more. Other than to tell him that dinner will be served soon, he gives the automatic responses.

After Lucius left, he stayed where he was at. Pondering about his next move. The beauty of being a child, some might see him as naive and subservient to any adult figure. Little did they know, Mortimer had no intention of listening to Lucius. All that work for him to stop now? Just because Lucius said so. Mortimer wasn't too keen on getting caught either. Only now he was going to have to be extra careful, maybe take a few days off until things cool down. Relaying it to Draco later on, they'll pick up where they left off once Lucius is convinced to back off.

---

Struggling to settle down, his legs fidgeted against the air. Instinctually his feet were looking for something to stand on. But of course, the attempt was fruitless as he was above floor level, floating above a few feet.

He didn't think he could ever get use to this whole flying-on-broomsticks thing. He's flown a couple of times throughout the years and heck went for midnight drive in Draco's own broom. Still, none of it seemed to be enough as he becomes tense when looking down.

"Let's go Mortimer!" Draco muffled voice ranged right above him. "You've barely moved at all!"

Gazing up, he watches Draco halting his broom as he rotates his Nimbus, moving around the air like nothing. "I'm working on it!" Mortimer shouts back.

Rolling his silver eyes, he flies away to join Nott in the air.

Just a mile away he could see Theo spinning up in the air and going through the obstacle hoops that were placed around the field. It'd be easier if this thing had a steering wheel and maybe some tires on each side, preferably on the ground too...

Taking only deep breaths, he pulls the googles down, letting them rest between his face, bracing himself. What might've been an eternity, Mortimer had finally managed to get off the ground. Hovering up in the air, he grips the handle of the broomstick, he didn't dare to look down. The thought of it caused him to go through vertigo.

"Glad you could finally join us." Theo jeered, his legs hoisted up, stopping right next to his. "Thought maybe Draco had glued your feet right down to the ground."

Grumbling underneath his breath, he glides right in middle of the field. Feeling the soft air brushing his hair back, it felt nice, he felt free. Simply floating in the air and pretending for just a few seconds that the word around him was absent. "Mortimer, catch!"

Turning his head to the side, he sees the Quaffle coming straight at him. Whether the gods had taken pity on him this one time, he was stunned when he immediately caught it with his right arm. "Great catch!" Yelled Draco, the expression on his face resembled joy and one could even say, proud. "Toss it right back!"

Studying the leather-covered ball, he takes a few a seconds before hurling it back to the blond. At his signal, Draco motions for Mortimer to fly further back to get a good distance and when he does, throws the quaffle right back at him. The force of it causes him to be pushed back, but not too hard that Mortimer wasn't able to handle it.

It was a neat little activity and Draco was certainly having a good time. Theo aviates right at the duo, teasing them with the beater's bat. It where Nott had begun to chase Mortimer, threatening to kick him right off the broom. Getting away, Mortimer flew straight through the hoops, twisting his body left and right until he drives down. Theo of course sees where Mortimer was going for and instead toddles, slowing his speed.

Draco observes from the side, yelling instructions and rooting for his cousin.

Nearing the ground, Mortimer was surprised to find Nott's absence. He was able to breathe again. A short second of relief that was soon shattered when out of the air, he was abruptly tossed to the ground, falling of the broom.

A thumping pain on his side, he takes off and tosses the goggles on the grass. The sun blinding him shortly, he looks up to find Theo waving the bat in a playful manner. "Nice try, Black."

Rolling his eyes, Mortimer takes Theo's hand, helping him of the ground. Draco soon flies down at their direction. "That was so good - and on the first try too! You should consider trying out this year."

He runs the back of his neck. "Thanks, but I like my feet on the ground... How bout' you Theo? Fancy binning out Draco for the seeker role?"

Draco's less than amused look had sent the two of them laughing. "No one is better than me." He said in a flat tone.

"And there you have it." Theo excused, the smile bever seeming to leave. "Draco is the best there is and you can never change his mind." Snidely, Theo giggles to himself while Mortimer merely makes light of Draco's slight pink face.

And after all that teasing, Mortimer was confident enough to hop right back on the broom. The three boys would spend the entire morning tossing the quaffle back and forth. Eventually trying to capture the snitch Draco had released. After spending some time in the air, Mortimer would get use to the idea of not having to use one's legs. Freely, swooping up and down and stretching his arm to catch the blasted snitch, who had a mind of its own.

Overall, flying seemed to have the boys in good moods. It was the first time Mortimer has seen Draco express himself so freely. Gone was the pompous spoiled heir and here was a regular boy, having a great time with his friends. There were no talks about training, fathers, reputation, and more importantly, school. They were all simply living in the moment, laughing and joking around. They weren't heir's, they were being boys. Displaying what they truly felt through the expressions of their faces, it was sometimes good to forget.

While Theo and Draco raced, Mortimer merely stood back and watched, growing a bit tired of the flying. A small glint of saddness when realizing it would soon end.

---

Splitting the flat dish into halves, Mortimer exhales before saying. "Again."

At his word, a single plate is thrown, this one aiming at his arm. "Aeris Flagello!"

A rash flurry of air springs right out, shattering it in seconds. Tightening his wand, he was left feeling unsatisfied. "You're not throwing it hard enough."

"Listen here you little shit, Whether I throw it fast or far wouldn't doesn't matter. It's the consistency and being aware of your surroundings. You have to use it to your advantage."

His advice was less than comforting, all it did was frustrate him. "I'd probably wouldn't be struggling so much of you'd simply volunteer yourself."

Jerking his head up, his sneering came to no surprise. "Ha! That's rich. As if I would ever agree to be a live target for you shoot."

"You wouldn't be a target if you fought back."

"You'd like that Spawn, wouldn't you?"

Glaring at the Sirius Black, Mortimer silently had to remind himself why he hasn't killed him yet. Sirius was becoming increasingly annoying now that he was living in Grimmauled Place.

Ever since smuggling the dog in here, the man had called just to bother him. Entrusting him to do the dumbest of tasks for him, like sending letters to Potter or making him pick up strange packages. When the weeks would drag on and didn't receive word from him. Mortimer would go out to check up on the old man to make sure he wasn't dead. Sadly enough, he was very much alive.

On the bright side, he know longer smells like a rotten dumpster. Frankly the man washed up pretty good. He no longer had that ghastly grotesque, pale skin of his and the once dark tangled, greasy hair was now well combed with slight silky streaks that added more volume. To Mortimer's surprise, the man actually owned clothes that weren't two sizes too big.

"Anything would be better than having to share a room with you." He explains. At the same time, takes in a cool breath to calm his nerves. "But there aren't any at the moment, so I'm stuck as it is."

Folding his arms, Sirius nearly laughs as he tells the annoyed boy. "What? Don't tell me your lackies have grown tired of you. Did it finally sink in that empty skull of theirs?"

"Not exactly." By that he meant, they knew not of him being here or Sirius. "Thought I'd give them a break."

"I'd need a break too if I had to deal with Bella's rotten little brat."

"And I'd like nothing more than to hold up a sign that says, 'Sirius Black lives here' But you don't see me whining; you big baby."

What Potter sees in this fool; he might never know. He was worth more trouble here than out there and Mortimer didn't think he'd last long.

Tolerating his hurls of snide and insulting remarks, Mortimer had remained passive.

Every sentence Sirius spewed out was meant to get a reaction out of him. He'd be dumb for to take the bait. Despite wanting to hex this guy into oblivion, he remains passive "The least you can do is toss the bloody plate - and toss it harder next time, what are you frail?"

"I'll show you who the frail one is. . ."

Lifting his wand, he gestures at the transfigured plates, putting himself in a dueling stance. Sirius was less than impressed and gave him a droll stare.

Perhaps, Sirius could see the determination and effort he was putting through, or maybe he simply felt sorry for him. But as he stood there silently, he made a small gesture with his head before taking out his own very wand.

Using the levitation charm, Sirius would ultimately comply. Flinging and trying to hit Mortimer, he used the plate as target practice. From then on, they'd continue to do so for another half hour before Black grew bored and Mortimer getting annoyed at his performance.

"Maybe you should take a break." Sirius suggests, scratching the back of his scalp.

Sharing the same ponderous expression, he agrees. Putting his wand away, he paces around the room for a couple seconds. For a moment or two, he seems to forget that Black was in his presence and removes himself from the room. He decides to go downstairs, on the other side of home, it didn't take long to reach the living room.

The place was already a mess when he first showed up. It wasn't warm or welcoming when he stepped foot. It almost reminded him of Nana's house. Both were equally trashy and unlivable by any human standards. It's like the homeowners never heard of a maid, or the word clean for that matter.

Choosing to plump himself down in one of the dusty old couches, he involuntarily frowns when he leans back.

A small clang of a dish shook him out of his thoughtful gaze. Peering his eyes over to the coffee table, there was a flat plate covered with small biscuits. Lifting a brow, he spots the short - very wrinkled - old elf.

It was fiddling with its small sharp hands. Nervous like, he grouses and avoids looking at him for too long. "Please eat, young Master."

"I'm not hungry." He mutters and blinks away.

Droning out his answer, the elf didn't appear to get the massage. "Mistress would not want you to starve. She wants her heir to be better than all the rest; strong. . ."

Folding his arms, he rests them on top of his belly as he listens to his chatter. "I said, I'm not hungry." Mortimer says in low voice. "Now go away."

The elf didn't say anything. A sole side glance and it starts mumbling to itself, leaving partially defeated.

"What's gotten you so glum?"

The only other person in the house, Mortimer thought nothing of it. He also didn't feel like talking. So many things wracking his head, he drifts in and out of his head. Seemingly finding detachment as he sits there wondering if he was doing right by keeping silent about his intentions.

Aunt Cissy believes he was at Theo's and Draco assumed he'd stay back at the Manor while he goes over to Crabbe's. They were both clueless, and he wants to keep it that way.

"You make a terrible host. . ." Not even offering him a drink and leaving it up to the elf to do the work - Not that he cared, just an observation. He's noted the home's size, then to realize he hasn't explored it all that much since coming here.

If he didn't know better, he thought he could hear Sirius chuckling from the other side of the room. "You have to pardon me. It's been a while since I've had company over. Being locked in Azkaban, they don't usual teach prisoners proper etiquettes."

"Do you think Voldemort is alive?" Mortimer asks bluntly while still looking out into the far distance.

"Dumbledore seems to think so." Replying in a rather quiet tone, it was still loud enough for Mortimer to hear.

"And you believe him?" Maybe Sirius wasn't the best person to be questioning. But one thing he needed was an outside opinion. "You were there, weren't you? What was it like? When he was alive?"

Pressing his mouth shut, the brows on his forehead creased. There was hesitation, maybe doubt. It made Mortimer think it was simply because he was untrustworthy. Speaking to the dark lord's son... it'd be near blasphemous, at least to those who knew. Was there any hope? Black has yet to murder him... He'd like to say it was progress.

"It was a frightening time for everyone." Is what Sirius would say. Similar to Mortimer, his head was in the clouds. "Neither group was safe, not even those who followed him."

As he listened, Black slowly told him about the first war. It was vague and wasn't much to go by, nonetheless it was interesting to hear considering he, along with Potter's father, did their best to suppress any incoming attacks around muggle neighborhoods. At points, Sirius unknowingly smiles, recalling their escapades, a time where things were simple, he missed those days terribly; Mortimer could tell.

Aside from the war, there was something Mortimer was curious to know. "How'd you get kicked out? Aunt Cissy showed me the family tree. You're not in it."

He had a good idea as to why, I mean just look at him - He doesn't show the standard pureblood wizardry image, let alone someone who once belonged to the Black family. He wants to hear from the man himself.

"It was a combination of everything. It first started when I was sorted in Gryffindor. Hanging around James, the pranking, failing to make the right connections, avoiding my Black duties..." He with a mouthful of acid. "After that, it all came crashing together, quite beautifully, I would say. I hated living here. Hated what Mother had planned for me. Not to mention. . . she never knew when to shut up, I thought i'd go deaf from it." Covering his ears, he can almost hear her loud, irritating shrieks through the halls.

It was a small blessing he supposed, now that there was no one left to bite his ear off, Mortimer was relieved. "But I didn't care." Sirius proceeds. "It was all rubbish to begin with - Nothing but flaunting wealth and showing off titles that meant nothing. I've never been any happier."

Hearing Black's detachment for his family's beliefs, Mortimer wasn't sure what to make it. "You were willing to walk away from your family. . ." Mortimer asks as he lays back.

"I said I didn't care about the wealth -"

"Forget the money - and the stupid names..." He interjects as he sits upright, his eyes flashing. "You were just going to forget your mother? Father? What about your brother? Did none of them mean anything to you?"

The questions, along with tone, did very little to affect him. "Be glad you don't have to deal with them, spawn. They were terrible. Cared nothing but their precious blood." He scrunches his face together before letting out a disgusted sound. "All the more reason to bask in the joy in knowing they're no longer here."

Part of Mortimer couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What about your brother? You're just going to pretend he never existed?"

"Serves him right..." He bobs his head in good riddance. "For joining those slimy death eaters. If he was so different, why didn't he turn? Could've left if really wanted to."

"You don't know that..." Mortimer puts into thought. It was strange, the relationship between brothers appeared to be awfully strained. "Had you been a better brother, he'd probably be alive."

"Shut your mouth!"

"Is that guilt I'm sensing?" Scratching the bottom of his chin.

Firing his arms at the fireplace, he barks. "Get out."

"Technically, I don't have to listen to you. Considering you don't own it anymore - But - Out of the goodness of my heart. . ." Rolling his, he placed a weak hand on his chest. "I'll leave you be."

Surrendering, he saw no point in upsetting him further. Watching as the veins in his temple pop, Mortimer resists laughing. As he decides to get up from his seat, he gives him a quick glance before heading home.

Wondering whether his words actually did have bearing on the older Black. What else could he say to get him riled up? It certainly gave him a good laugh. He sometimes did wonder what happened to Regulus. Not much was known from him, far less than what could've happen to him. Sirius telling him he had joined the dark lord's crusade of supremacist, might've gotten himself killed; from his very own.

It was just an idea, who knows what really happened to him. Tossing himself right into the floo, he coughs for a second, swaying his hands to get rid of the smoke suffocating him.

An entire room, devoid of any movement, or noise, the house appeared to be unoccupied for the moment. Which meant, Draco has yet to arrive, and his uncle was probably still at the ministry, leaving aunt Cissy. Well, wherever she was, Mortimer didn't wish to be a bother.

Instead of going to his room like he first intemded to, he heads towards the other direction. Going straight and making right, he passed several portraits, most of which consisted of relatives that were dead long before his time.

Once he inevitably came face with the entrance doors of the library, he pauses at a certain noise.

He sighs, "I thought I told you not to wander." Mortimer said, glaring down.

Aunt Cissy would have a fit if she found out Tobey was wriggling all over her fine carpet. When the lengthy reptile offered very little in response, Mortimer brushes it off. Bending on one knee, he offers Tobey his arm - Which the pet happily climbed, settling right around his neck.

He enters the library without much delay, his footsteps clicking as he maneuvers further down the several bookshelves. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, only that he believed there was something here that could potentially give him an upper hand.

Frankly, he thinks he hasn't done enough. The training was fine and dandy - Sure beats sitting around. But there has to be more to it. It couldn't be as simple as waving a wand around and BOOM! Problem gone.

He was racking his brain trying to come up with a proper plan that would bring them out alive. The time spent thinking, his forehead creases deeper.

Maybe if he understood his father better, he could find a weakness of sorts. But that plan alone wouldn't be as easy. Barely anyone knows about the man on a personal level. Mortimer doubts that Lucius, or even Professor Snape, could provide any useful insight. To understand Voldemort, he needed to go back. Waaaay Back.

To where it all started. To the wizard whose belief of superiority stemmed from his very own magical abilities to do what no other could. Starting with Salazar Slytherin. It was his blood that coursed through his veins and the veins of his ancestors.

Inspecting his left wrist, Mortimer saw nothing magical about it. They called him special because of his father, a direct descended of Slytherin. Whether or not, Mortimer cares little for it.

Shaking the thoughts away, he looks around the library before heading to the right side of the room. He stops on the eighth column, a pause to raise his head up. With his wand, he summons Accio to bring the book to him. He remembers most of the categories and titles of the library, making it easier to find what he needed. It was innocent enough as he held it tightly.

A small history of the four founders. It was a good read, stating their contributions to wizarding society and impact their presence made throughout the years. Though, this wasn't what he was particularly looking for. Interest for the contents grew once the pages were turned to reveal possible descendants of each member.

Surprisingly, out of the four members, no recordings of Godric Gryffindor's line were ever showed. There didn't seem to be anyone in this world that continue to carry the name. The same could be said about Rowena Ravenclaw, the name had sadly died with her daughter. He recalls Luna mentioning her a while back, mentioning a ghost, something along those lines, he didn't seem to find it all that important. Helga Hufflepuff miraculously still had family lingering around, not sure if they were around, he didn't think he'd ever run into them. Lastly, Salazar Slytherin. Funny how the foulest of people always seemed to survive the longest. Their line of family, Mortimer was practically related to them all.

He brushes it aside, what he caught his eyes was the house of Gaunt. They were the ones to look at. If he remembers correctly, Draco had told him they weren't entirely gone, not yet at least. Morfin Gaunt, from what he was told, was still alive and breathing. He'd probably know something, right? Tell him about his family, his father, perhaps. It may seem like a fruitless cause, but it was as close as he was going get. An actual parseltongue speaker, other than himself, the conversations they'd have, Mortimer was curious.

Darting his eyes, his nose remains glued to the book. He stayed there for about an hour; he didn't notice the night had approached. It wasn't until one of the elves had called him for supper that he snapped out of it. Putting each book back to its proper place.

Soon as he arrived at the dining room, everyone else had already settled in.

Throughout dinner he'd stay quiet, with the Malfoy's talking amongst themselves, it was all background noise for him as he chewed on his food. He made very little contact with either of them. Wondering further about the Gaunts and the rest of its members. Playing with the thought of having to actually meet one. While they didn't directly call him out, their curious glances were enough to let him know they were aware of his own self-absorption.

After a quiet, but delicious meal, Mortimer was swift to leave the presence of the Malfoy's. The hours went by, and the night had lodged itself above the sky, taking him out of his thoughtful state.

They probably thought he had gone to bed that they didn't notice Mortimer entering Lucius' study. His aunt was sipping tea and Lucius was looking out pf the windows. Their faint discussion, he slowly creeps right in.

"...we could invite Bagman, but that would mean inviting his brother - You and I both know those two can't share a room. Augh. . . and don't get me started on his wife..." Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looks to her side to spot her nephew. "Oh! Mortimer, your uncle and I were just discussing the guest list."

"Guest list?"

"Mmhmm - For the celebration of your birth. This year I thought I'd extend the list." Firmly she holds onto her teacup before taking a sip. "They've been pestering your uncle nonstop about it. We've kept your existence hidden for a sometime. But as you grow older, the right connections will need to make in order thrive in our society." Motioning with her arm, she smiled. "Now, we won't go around and start telling everybody - Merely a few, those who can offer you far better positions once you start gradually revealing yourself."

Lucius didn't say anything but became a spectator of sorts. He was never one to intervene when it came to her decisions on how Mortimer would be raised. Part of him thought it was because Lucius had entrusted his wife to make the right choices, it wasn't his place to say seeing as how he came from Narcissa's own sister.

Clearing his throat and snapping his neck, he wasn't sure how to break it to them. "About that. . ." He starts rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding their eyes. "I don't want a party this year..."

As if she had already expected this, Narcissa had sighed. "Mortimer, we've discussed it already. I know don't enjoy these gatherings - To be honest, I too get tired from time to time - But it is important we show our friends that our name still holds weight around these parts. We are not to be trifled with. Compared to the rest, they are insignificant. No matter how hard they try, we will overshadow them."

Mortimer found himself scratching his head, confused once Narcissa's eyes darkened. "I thought birthday parties are supposed to be fun..."

A shift in her expression, her face brightens suddenly. She starts to giggle and soon, her own husband couldn't help but chuckle as well, the first time showing true expression, other than stern rather irritated look he carried.

Mortimer was almost embarrassed for having said that. Through his persistence only, he shakes off the nerves tickling his back and continues. "I don't want a party. I don't want anyone coming and I don't want to see anyone." Ignoring their stunned expressions, he pushes further. "What I want for my birthday is something a little more meaningful..." A small pause, he presses his lips together. "Something you alone have the power to give me. . ."

His voice soft, nearing a sort of his, Mortimer could see both adults tensing at his unfinished request. Surprised when Lucius had spoken up, asking him. "What would that be?"

Straing straight at them, clear and rain, he leans forward. "I want to visit Morfin Gaunt in Azkaban."