/ One week Later /
I was able to get the one on one time with Professor Snape, and with his help that he begrudgingly offered I was able to narrow down my personal research.
A rather difficult potion to brew, but not impossible. It's name: Puer Perierat.
Latin origin meaning Lost Child. Going back to a time where war ravished the world, it wasn't uncommon for grieving parents or siblings to be searching for one another.
The ingredients are simple:
1 cup of pure water
1 inch of silk thread
2 drops of lilac essence
3 drops of mercy
2 butterfly wings crushed into fine dust.
It had to simmer on a low heat for sixteen days, then has to be moved off the heat, and it must be stirred every two days for the eight days, five times counted clockwise. Only then will it be ready for the final ingredient.
Two strands of hair: one from each sibling.
Should the potion bubble and turn black, there is no relation. But if the potion should turn from a silver liquid to a royal purple-they are a direct relation.
It will take about a month to brew once the ingredients are collected and it will be effective for three days. And for this to be a success, I will have to relinquish my control.
As this week progressed, the more that realization has sunken in. I am an unknown person to this guy, he has zero reason to trust me, or to at least have that much faith in a stranger.
Luckily I am very organized with everything academic, and can keep a level head about this. I know Theo is the third ranked in Potions: only behind myself and Draco Malfoy. So he is not incometent like Seamus or Goyle.
Back in my little alcove in the library I take out my quill to write back finally to Theo.
Theo Nott,
I hope this letter finds you well. I must apologize for the delay in returning your letter.It was not because of anything regarding your precious person. It is because I needed to find a way for you to trust me, and to believe me when you have no reason to.We are not friends. We have no reason to talk. And yet, I am putting my faith into you.This past summer I received a letter that was left for me when I came of age: and that is a little hard to explain.We are the same age on paper, but a couple years back I messed with the power of time and as a result my magical signature has aged a full additional year. Like I said, its complicated to explain. And maybe in time I will trust you enough to share the whole truth about it. But right now, I cannot risk you knowing too much about me.Back to the letter, I am sending you the original. I have already made a copy for myself to keep-but if you are as distrustful as you seem-I would expect you would want nothing but the original.Once you read the contents, write to me again.I have a solution to verify your findings.
H.J.G
Sitting for dinner, I laughed with my friends over silly things that happened throughout the day.
We ate and made plans for the weekend, and for a moment that foreboding feeling was gone. We were just students, enjoying a meal and talking with our friends.
But when those doors creaked open, and the sound of a dozen or more wings flapping together filled the laughter filled air. Mail time.
I tried not to look. I tried to ignore it, truly. But the moment the Great Grey owl entered the room, my eyes were transfixed to its every movement. It was like time slowed down when I saw the envelope drop into Theo's lap.
I saw the colour drop from his face, and how quickly he moved to had the letter in his robes pocket. I watched as he excused himself from the table, and I watched as his hurried exit was mirrored by two others.
Seems he has involved two of his friends in this exchange: how nice that would be to be able to share in this.
I turn from the Slytherin's that made their escape and look at my friends. Harry getting his first letter from what I assume is Sirius judging by the smile on his face, along with the small pile of sweets that came with the letter.
Ron had a letter from his mother that made his face match his lovely red hair; she must have written something rather sweet to get that reaction from him.
No, if she shared her news, there moments of peace would be shattered. They do not know how to separate people from a house: it's sad but it's true.
If I were to tell them the truth about my heritage, I suspect they will just see me as a Nott. They won't be able to see past the last name of a family with ties to Death Eaters and Voldermort. Harry might come around-but Ron? Our friendship is dicey on a good day-I don't want to see what this will do to it.
Besides, this is all out of my control. As hard as it is, Theo has to make the choice, that is the only way he will ever see me.
*POV switch*
I have waited for this letter longer than I anticipated. Anxious to see that black ink again, so much so, that I nearly jumped from my seat when I saw that same writing floating down to my lap after dinner.
I couldn't wait to open it. But I couldn't do it in public. Thankfully, my two trusted friends saw, and quickly followed suit when I excused myself.
Taking stairs two or three at a time, I made my way to the dungeons: my ears were ringing as my adrenaline increased.
A week this person took their time to respond; what could possibly take that long?
Brushing past the upperclassmen that was lounging in the common room, I made straight for my room, and my two friends were hot on my heels.
Locking and silencing the room after the came in, I turned and faced them for the first time since I got the second letter in my hands.
The perfect Pureblood shields I had in place were threatening to crack. This letter was thicker in my hand. And I was terrified.
"Some one has to read this." My voice shook, but I could bring myself to care. Not in front of these two.
Without debate, Draco took the envelope, and broke the seal. Blaise moved to my side and pushed me down so I was sitting on the bed before he sat with me. Both of our attention was on Draco as he read.
Blaise was the first to break the silence.
"So, if we assume this letter holds any truth...do you think your sister is going to be hot or…."
Sister.
I can hide a daughter but never an heir.
We were all lying on the bed, staring at the celine. The words of that letter still lingered in the room. All this time, if I were to believe this, I had family out there. Family who might be completely different from my father.
I hold my mothers letter up again, my eyes following every loop in her handwriting as if I were a child again, sitting on her lap and she wrote letters to strangers. I can almost hear her as she hums to the stroke of her quill. Forgotten songs alive again on this piece of paper.
A paper that has not been altered, fabricated or forged. A paper that was without a doubt written by my mother.
"How am I supposed to respond to this? How can I just accept this as the truth...I don't know what to do."
"Well, I suppose we have to trust that whoever this is, has already figured out a way to prove it if they are sending this letter out."
Sitting up, I rub the back of my neck before I roll forward to a standing position. I stumble over my feet to the desk and grab a fresh sheet of paper.
"I suppose I should write back and hope you are right about that."
H.J.G,
You have my attention.
Theo Nott
End: Chapter Three.