JANUARY 

2001

“Hermione you remember Nott from-”

She held up a hand before Malfoy could continue talking, "Please don’t act as though I’ve never met Nott before.” Hermione glowered at him rather impressively. 

“You mean that you’ve not met Nott?” Ron piped up from his place in a rather uncomfortable looking wooden chair. 

“Weasley, do try harder next time.” Draco shot him only a brief glance, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione that he’d at least bothered to use his full name.

“Yeah alright, I’ll take that. Wasn’t my best joke.” Ron pulled himself to his feat and looked on as if to wait for Hermione to tell him to leave but instead she made no move at all, “What brings you to the Ministry?”

“Theo here holds a seat on the Wizengamot.” Draco turned his attention towards the redhead fully now. 

Hermione looked up from the stack of papers that she’d returned to, “Prestigious, impressive.”

“Pretentious,” Theo countered, “Highly useless without intentions for actual change.”

Hermione was quick in response, “And you have those?” 

“That is why I brought him by your office,” Draco nudged his way back into the conversation, his shoulder leaning rather bored against the doorframe,  “You’re working on some sort of… bill for sad underprivileged-”

“Underserved Magical Beings Initiative.” Theo beat Hermione to the correction leaving her mouth slightly agape as she instead opted for agreement.

“Yes, I am.” 

“Well great. Take him off my plate.” Draco nudged the tall brunette further into the room while he sighed rather dramatically, “I’m the one who needs to do some real work.”

Theo whirled around towards the wizard, “You volunteer your time in the International Games department don’t act high and mighty.”

“So out of touch Theo you know nothing of the working man.” Draco called back as he took one step into the hall, he shot a wink into the room and Hermione hoped that it was intended for Theo as she wasn’t keen on filing a report for casting a curse on a volunteer today. 

“Of all of the things that I may call you, a working man is not one of them.” Theo grumbled and offered a rather annoyed glare towards the blond. 

“My hand has already got a callous.” Draco held up his palm as if to prove a point but snatched it away before Theo could grab it and likely prove him wrong. Draco disappeared further into the hallway.

“You’re doing it to get free World Cup tickets!” Theo raised his voice just enough to call after him, but the blonde was gone now. 

The room stilled and Ron hefted out an impressive sigh, “I’m going to go make sure all of my paperwork is done before the weekend.”

The witch’s hand was already pointing at him, “Don’t even think about-”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do it. I’ll have Ginny look over it instead.” He smiled rakishly and Hermione’s eye roll lost all of it’s malice. The red head disappeared through the doorway and Hermione returned to the only wizard left standing. 

“How did you hear about my initiative?”

He took a moment to survey her office, books stacked everywhere but yet still in neat piles, there were three moving photos and two muggle ones dancing happily along the shelf above her head, “I pay attention- it’s been everywhere.”

“I’ve been everywhere.” Her eyes darted quickly, though not quick enough to escape the notice of Theodore Nott, towards a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet in the bin. She’d been on the front page this morning with Luna Lovegood, “It, on the other hand, has been nearly nowhere.”

“I wanted to do something meaningful. I mean- I want to. I want to do something meaningful.” He paused but when Hermione did no more than quirk her eyebrow up he found himself continuing on with a slight ramble, “The Nott seat has been rather underhandedly managed since the passing of my father. When I came of age I figured that it was time, and well I couldn’t take it up until after we graduated. I figured if anyone was doing anything worthwhile in the Ministry it would be you.”

 Hermione’s eyebrows both shot up at that, bristling slightly as she snorted, “Why, because I’m the Golden Girl, Brightest Witch of Her Age?”

“No.” At his voice her eyes narrowed,  “Because you’re Hermione Granger.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her eyes scanning over him as if searching for a crack, Theo was sure she’d already found every chink in his already rough and ready armor. “You’re right I am working on something.”

“The initiative.”

“Yes which Draco knew about despite his laissez faire attitude.”

“I’d like to help in any way I can.” It sounded rather pathetic when he put it like that, “A good vote towards a good bill is a sure fire way to ensure good press for some of these people. I’d love to show them that this is just that, a good bill.”

Hermione mulled the thought over in her mind, “Vote support. That’s one way. Thank you- really.”

“Any other ways?” He watched as something exhausted and jovial cracked behind her eyes as she set herself down in the chair behind her desk once more. 

“Are you any good at finding money that doesn’t exist, or better yet how are you at spell checking?” Hermione laughed and returned to the paper at her desk just as Theo sat down opposite her. 

She glanced up in surprise, mostly expecting he’d have left after hearing it was a desperate state the initiative was actually in. 

“My grammar is quite alright too, not that I think you’ll need it.” He pulled out a blue muggle pen from the inside of his robes and clicked it. He didn’t know which one of them was more surprised when she handed over a stack of parchment a moment later. 

2004

Theo heard the voices before he turned the corer, Hermione’s office door was opening and the yelling was echoing down the hall.

“-this is worth something it’s not just about making sure that individuals are better served it’s about making the country better as a whole.”

“Is your bright idea to change, in one swoop, the entire foundation upon which many groups think their lives depend on?”

“Their lives depend on prejudice?”

“No but their lives depend on going to work and knowing exactly what is going to happen while they are there. It depends on exchanging favors which are continually exchanged in favor of bettering their families and those that they align themselves with. I’m saying that I think this bill getting passed is great but enacting tactical change -”

“Is going to be difficult, yes Malfoy I know.”

Draco crossed his arm over his chest and leaned back as if unsurprised by her gall, “Not difficult Granger, tedious and exhausting.”

“What exactly are the pair of you arguing about?” Theo had spent enough time around the pair to know that neither would concede this argument to loop him in if he didn’t push for an explanation. 

Hermione turned to face him in the doorway so fast that a loose curl wiped across her nose, causing her to huff as she tucked it behind her ear, “I told Malfoy about my idea for a ‘Hogwarts Tolerance in Education Program’ and he seems to think that it won’t be acceptable to the parents of the institution.”

“I said nothing about the parents. I said that I don’t imagine it being well received.” Draco held one finger up as if clarifying his statement, but Hermione didn’t seem to think that it needed clarification. 

The witch wheeled back to throw her hands up in anger, turning away from Theo once more, “Who else would be receiving it poorly? The students who will not have any gage for whether or not ti is a good or bad program? Considering the state of the world it seems like a good idea-”

“He means the board.” At his voice Hermione lowered her hands and shot him a rather confused look. 

“What?”

Theo took a step further into the office and sighed, looking over her shoulder towards where Draco stood smugly, “He means the school board. The directory. Right?”

“Yes. I do. Didn’t I say that?” He furrowed his brows and glared at Hermione, though most of the malice was lost and instead he just looked genuinely confused. 

“No. No you did not. What directory?” She was glancing between the wizards now, her steam not curtailed by this new information. 

“What directory?” Draco scoffed,  “The one that governs Hogwarts curricula.”

“There is a board that governs Hogwarts curricula.” Hermione only managed to repeat back lamely, her voice dripping with disbelief. 

“Yes- is this not?” Draco took the moment to run his hand across his face rather dramatically,  “I thought this was common knowledge.”

“It’s not because not everyone has historically been allowed to participate on that governing counsel.” Theo offered sheepishly.

“Why not?” Hermione leaned back against her desk, brow furrowed as she clearly let the wheels of her mind run rampant. 

“It was originally mandated by the founders of the school.” Theo clasped his hands together and looked onward at her, despite the fact that telling her of such an outdated custom made him want to find a whole and crawl into it. 

“What does that even- oh.” Hermione took a long, deep, slow breath and shook her head, “Purebloods.”

“Yes, originally heirs though I do believe those waters have been clouded.” Draco called over as he pulled his cloak off the back of one of Hermione’s overstuffed reading chairs. 

“So the programs would need to go through them to be deemed acceptable.” The clarification in her voice did nothing for the fact that she was reeling in bitter resentment. 

“Yes and- can I tell you something morose?” He hated to have to bear the bad news but it seemed he was the one driving that proverbial train at the moment. 

Hermione chuckled cynically, “Oh please do.” 

“Much like the Wizengamot until recently there have been very few leadership changes. The number of seats and their occupants are governed by the Ministry but in such a remote way I find it difficult to imagine that they would ever admit to bias.” Theo informed her rather disheartedly. 

There was a silence that only lasted for a beat of a moment. Then Hermione was rubbing her hand’s together and letting out a hard breath. 

“Well. Fuck that.” She turned towards a stack of papers on her desk and moved a few of them around. 

“Woah Granger, language.” Draco was fastening his cloak over his oxford shirt and making his way towards the door now. 

“No I’m serious- I do believe that it is time for them to start admitting to quite a few things. Don’t you?”

Theo couldn’t agree more, “Long overdue is more like it.”

“You know until recently the Wizengamot was essentially done the same way but there is new blood and all of that. Some hot shots that think they can change things.” Draco let a rather pointed lingering gaze hold onto his friend for just a moment. 

“You do realize that you are one of those hot shots in question.” Theo leveled back at him just as the wizard began to step out of the office. 

“I hope so.” Draco shot a wink towards Theo and with an understanding nod, ducked out the door. By the time that Hermione looked up from her stack of papers, a pen in her hand, and some parchment in the other, the blond wizard had disappeared down the hallway. 

“I thought you said that you had lunch plans with Draco?” She offered upon realizing that they were alone. 

“Oh, it’s alright. I’m sure we can grab it another time. This is more important.” Theo pulled a chair closer to her desk and began jotting down a few things onto a notebook he’d pulled from his pocket. 

“This is what exactly?” 

“We’re going to write a few carefully targeted letters.” He smiled at her with vicious intent, “Starting with a few Wizengamot seat holders who owe me a favor.”

2003

“I’m in love with you.” He swallowed rather thickly and found himself torn between staring at her deeply and blinking so that he didn’t fall over from focusing on her eyes too hard, “I thought it was quite obvious really, at least Harry thinks so and he’s as oblivious as a brick wall.”

The rain was pounding down onto the awning outside of the cafe where they were planning, up until a few moment ago, have a nice tea, “Harry knew before me-”

“You’re latching onto-, yeah okay.” Theo ran another hand through his wet curls and tried to find something interesting in the ceiling of the vinyl for one moment before giving up and continuing, “I suppose he sorted it out before you yeah.”

A crack of thunder echoed somewhere in the distance, Theo wondered if you could will getting struck by lightning into existence. 

“I’m never going to live this down.” Her eyes were wide as she shook her head slightly, “He’s going to lord this over me forever.”

“Did I ruin-” He stopped short and attempted to gather himself despite being soaking wet and mortified, “Anyways. Sorry I should probably…” He rushed out as he tapped his robes looking for his wand, “I’ll see you tomorrow, or around. Or-”

“What?” Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she reached out and stopped him from his search for his wand and subsequently his means of quick egress,  “Where are you going?”

He stilled, wiping the rain off of his forehead with the back of his hand,“Away? Before the ground swallows me up? I figured that was what you wanted -”

“Why would I want that?” Hermione laughed a little and pulled him closer to her away from the edge of the awning he’d been about to escape into the rain,  “My boyfriend just told me that he loved me, I’d like for you to stay put actually.”

“Oh?” His heart was threatening to leave his chest either through his ribs or his throat at this point. 

“Yes- Oh! My god, I love you too- I didn't say that yet did I?” She held his hands in hers and stared up at him, rain dripping off the end of her nose. 

“No, I think you skipped over that right to being annoyed with Potter.”

“Well I love you, deeply profoundly love you.” She shrugged a little and let a smirk slip onto her lips, “Very happy that you’ve finally caught up.”

“Caught up?” He scoffed at the idea. There was another crack of thunder echoing out over the streets, a car horn went off but Theo couldn’t tear his eyes off of her.

“Indeed, you were a bit slow on the uptake but I won’t hold it against you.” Her drenched curls stuck to her forehead and he felt the streams of rain make their way down his face.

He took a step closer towards the witch who had a rather smug look on her face as he countered roguishly,“Its a competition?”

“Yes and I’ve been in love with you for months.” A coy smile played at her lips and she reached out to grab his hand. 

“Still behind me then.” Theo’s hand tucked a curl behind her ears, the rain pouring heavier now.

“Impossible.”

He only smiled as he brought his lips closer to her, nearly closing the distance when he whispered, “I’m sorry dear but I’ve been in love with you for years.”

2005

It was his fault really. The embarrassment of realizing his own teenage angst. He hadn't meant to but the moment his father had died- the man had been clear that the Nott line was as good as over with Theo being all that was left. Theo decided that he wanted to Nott line to end with him. It was strange for them to nearly agree on anything, but even in this half agreement Theo was resigned. He’d never carry on such a wretched family, where his very name would bring out ideas and whispers of murder, death, torture, intrigue and dark magics. It hung over him like a dark cloud, he’d never give that to a child. He’d never burden them with it. So who cared if the old man thought he was a disappointment- Theo could say the same thing about him. 

The last time he’d spoken to his father the man had been sitting on the stone floor of his cell and hadn’t even bothered to stand to meet his son. Instead he’d taken one look into the eyes of his only living family and scowled,

“It will all end with you. Generations, Centuries. Down the drain. The Nott line ends with you.” Theo had knelt to his eye level, his father spat through the cell bars on his face. He nearly snorted at the action- reduced to that after years of actual abuse seemed a far way to fall for the man. Theo drank in the shower when he got home. Then he drank in the study.  Then he’d drank and fallen asleep in the garden. When he woke up with the rising son he’d decided he didn’t particularly care about the man so the last interaction had been all his moral duty or conscious could ask of him. He’d died shortly afterwards.

He had been 16 and full of rage and ready to live out his bachelor days and he'd nearly forgotten he'd thought the old man was crazy. 

Then he was 19 and in love with a girl who didn't know he was there. 

And then he was 20 and asking her to grab coffee.

And he was 21 and asking if perhaps she'd like to go on a proper date. He was 21 bribing her with books so spend a few extra hours of comfortable silence just reading around her. He was 21 thinking that maybe he’d be okay, maybe he wasn’t his father and he didn’t need to be him.

And he was 22 learning why she hated peony but loved magnolia, why she was obsessed with the silence that would come with snow, and why she never left home without a book (just in case she had a spare moment).

He was 23 and she was moving in- kissing his scars and telling him that he was just as beautiful inside and out and he was telling her over and over that she would never be able to get rid of him no matter how hard she tried to push him away to fight it all alone. That was why he was 23 and engaged. It was why he spent crowded Christmasses and loud New Years in the homes of people who loved him more than he ever thought people could love anything. 

And truly it was all his fault because back then he’d agreed, or something like that, with the man. But now, he was beginning to think that he’d be quite alright if Hermione decided that she’d like a child. He felt the sharp edges of his raising dulled, the fear of destroying something beautiful now covered with concern for loving them enough. It was his fault that the Nott line had been going to end but he was certain that it could be his now to grow. He’d learned that there are nearly infinite ways to grow when you have the right e=person with you. 

He had grown a lot but there are some things that you keep from your childhood even if they are true to their name, childish. Theo hated the healer. He always had. Perhaps it had something to do with the family healer that used to come by and stare through him as his father said for the fourth time that year that he was really such a clumsy boy. Or perhaps it was when the Head Auror Healer had looked between the pair and ruled his mother’s death a suicide:  he hadn’t ever really managed to believe him. 

Sometimes you love people enough that you change, and even more sometimes they remind you that you can hate things that are good for you. Theo hated the healer, but he loved Hermione Granger. And she was tired of pretending not to notice that his ribs still hurt. 

“You fell off a broom Theo you need to go to the doctor.” She’d complained as she prodded him again. A careful jab to his chest and though it was light he did sputter a dramatic cough. But he righted himself at the notice of her unamused face.

“It’s just some chest pain. I'll be fine.” he waved her off and began clearing the dishes from breakfast. 

“What if they are broken, huh? What then!” She swiped her mug from his hand before he could toss it into the sink and instead poured herself another cup of coffee. He wasn’t getting out of this, she was refueling for a fight. 

“I’m a wizard, they’ll grow back.” He offered with a raised eyebrow but still managed to drop the plates into the sink without her trying to beat him to it. 

“That’s what muggles say, you are a wizard.” She took a rather pointed sip out of her cup, not breaking eye contact as she said,  “Go get some Skele-grow.”

He stopped and turned around, fully facing her now. She had her leg tucked under her body and was sitting staring at him in their kitchen. Their kitchen, their house, their life. He never thought he’d be sharing breakfast with anyone let alone a witch so utterly fierce inher beliefs that she was willing to risk jittery hands on her paper’s if it meant winning a fight this morning. 

“If I go, can we get Thai for Top Gear night?” 

They had been watching the show ever since Hermione had introduced him properly to a tele, and though it was her week to choose the takeaway she nodded and shrugged her shoulders in response. She won out in the end, she nearly always did. Which is why he was sat in a cold office waiting on a healer to finish waving his wand about over his body while lights flashed. 

He paused, his eyes darting back and forth before putting his wand back in a holster. 

“When was the last time you had any blood work done Mr. Nott?” His voice was distant and neutral, it was one of the reasons he hated healers. The distant indifference that came with knowing the inner workings of someone’s anatomy seemed eerie to him. 

“Probably, never. So… 24 years ago.” Theo chirped, ready to leave the sterile lighting as soon as possible. 

“We’re going to run some labs then, if you are alright with that. You’re down for a general physical so those are included.” They were already making some markings onto their clipboard before Theo could agree. Which he really didn’t.

“Yeah - it’s really just my chest, I don’t know that blood work is necessary.” He felt his hands get clammy for a moment at the thought of being stuck in this room for two hours waiting on lab results to tell him that (shocking) he was 23 years old and some of his aunts had definitely married their cousins. 

“It won’t take more than an hour and the results are good in your chart for a few years. Honestly it’s a great day to get them done, no appointments for them so you should be in and out.” They tucked their clipboard to their chest and gave, for the first time in a  few minutes, their full attention to the patient in the room.

Theo paused for a moment, “If I do them now I won’t have to do them for....”

“The labs are certifiable for four years.” The healer clarified.

Four years before he’d have to do it again, and four years of being able to tell Hermione that he’d gone out of his way to do extra work at the healer and that his blood was totally normal. That seemed like a lot of winning arguments to be had. 

“Fantastic-”  He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and began rolling it,  “Take as much blood as you need.”

“Only a few drops.” The healer reassured and began tracing a complicated looking symbol into the air with the tip of their wand. Within a few moments the doctor had carefully used his wand and was holding four clear glass sliders filled with crimson. 

“About my chest pain-” Theo said as he rolled back down the sleeve, hoping to maybe get the answer early. Early answer and perhaps the lab results could be mailed. The harsh white lights were beginning to feel suffocating. 

“The head healer is going to review the scans and then will pop in to discuss them.” The healer scanned Theo from head to toe once again, face blank and eyes sharp. Must be a resident, tired and overworked. Poor bastards. As the door clicked closed Theo realized he hadn’t asked if results could be mailed. With no blood work results and no answers to his scans, heading out earlier was not a good move. He was stuck, even if just for a little while longer. The smell of cleaning potions and the soft sound of voices outside lulled time away. If it had been twenty minutes or two hours didn’t matter as it felt strongly like the latter. He sat in the cold office so long he began to think that they had forgotten about him. Finally there was a knock on the door followed by the click of the door opening. 

Another healer entered, still flipping through a clipboard as he closed the door behind him. When he finally did turn, Theo found Dean Thomas staring back at him. 

“Nott.” He gave a pleasant smile, thankfully not surprised to see him there. A healer should know who is in the exam room before they enter hopefully. 

“Thomas.” Theo felt his shoulder’s relax. He remembered Dean from school and they’d always been friendly. They’d been in similar athletic and managed to never throw a curse at each other which was enough to say they were cordial. He was friends with Hermione, and he and Seamus had been guests at more than one celebration over the years. All of that was below the point that Theo knew one thing above all else: Dean was a nice lad, with a pension for casual direct honesty. He’d be in and out of here in minutes from now likely. Theo stood up and watched as Dean tucked the clipboard under his arm.

“You came in alone today?’ He stopped by the sink nearest the door and washed his hands, not breaking Healer's habit and looked over his shoulder as he dried his hands and tossed the paper away. 

“Yeah,” Theo shrugged and motioned towards his chest, “ took a tumble off a broom about six weeks ago and Hermione insists I get it seen.”

“She’s a smart one. It’s been giving you some trouble then, chest pain?” He took another look at the chart though Theo knew he’d already read it twice likely.

Theo ran a hand over the back of his neck, “Some here and there.”

“It’s always good to come in. She didn’t come with you?” He looked around the room as if she’d been hiding in plain sight within the small quarters. 

“Nope…” Theo shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched Dean flipped through two more pages and then set the clipboard down on the counter near a sink. Turning his back on the stack of papers entirely, “It’s just me. All alone.”

Dean’s face was serious, despite Theo’s pale attempt at a joke Dean didn’t shift or smile at all. He sat down in a one of two chairs in the cramped quarters. 

“Are my ribs broken? My sternum? She thought it must be one of those things.” Theo felt a stab of pain in the center of his chest as if by mentioning it, it had been called into action. He swallowed and used his palm to gently rub over the spot through his shirt as if that would stop the stabbing feeling. Dean looked over at the empty chair next to him and then up towards where Theo still stood. 

“No, sorry Theo. No broken bones.” He leaned back and reassured the wizard. 

Theo let out a sigh of relief, he could go home and tell Hermione this had all been for nothing, “This is great news then.”

“Would you take a seat with me?” Dean cut off his celebration prematurely and motioned towards the seat next to him. 

“Why- what…” Theo laughed to himself, realizing that he was looming over the Healer. He caught the expressions on Dean’s face, who gave no further explanation but motioned once again to the empty chair.

There was a high pitch ringing that Theo was certain came from the lights which was driving him up the wall even as he tried to sit casually near Dean.

“Your bones are fine Theo.” Dean’s voice was soft and level, an old friend talking to you after a long time. Theo thought that maybe this was why Thomas made such a good Healer. He didn’t have a sterile distant voice; he sounded concerned for those he helped. That had to be far better than sounding like a wall with a degree. 

“My bones are fine?” Theo let the words form into a question as he looked at the wizard opposite him. He didn’t know why they were sitting her instead of parting ways in the hallway marking Theo’s clean bill of health.

Dean nodded in agreement before speaking calmly once again,  “It’s your blood.”

The world turned 90 degrees to the left, and suddenly the ringing in the room filled Theo’s ears. His words rushed out before he could stop them, “What- what, am I poisoned or something?”

He didn’t give Dean time to answer as he continued onward with a newfound rush, he hated Healers he knew there was a reason he always hated Healers, “Have I got dragon pox?”

“Theo.” The sound of his first name coming out of the wizard’s mouth put a stop to his rambling. It was that tone again, that one that said “we are old friends and we always have been”, the one that he could have sworn just moments ago made him sound concerned for anyone. 

“Theo,” Dean began slowly, “Do you know what a blood curse is?” 

“A blood curse?” Theo balked at the idea, it was laughable really. Of course he knew what it was and he knew one thing in particular about them, “What- why, no. What those are illegal. So super illegal.” 

Theo didn’t need to elaborate on the fact that plenty of wizards, including many he was related to (and some he’d been friends with) do illegal things everyday. But blood curses were outlawed and eradicated from texts in the 17th century. For over 200 years they’d been only myths and stories that pureblood parents told their children about. To make them eat their vegetables and go to bed at a reasonable hour. 

“Yes-”

Theo jumped to his feet, “And because they’ve been eradicated no one even knows how to do them in the UK anymore.” Theo tossed his hands about as if motioning to the general area. 

“I know you think I could have travelled but I wouldn’t even know where to look to get information on how to perform a blood curse!” Theo’s eyes were blown wide and his heart beat in his chest, he was not about to get accused of performing a blood curse on someone. Not after all of these years. Not after everything he’d done to atone for his sins, and the sins of his father who he’d actually have preferred to let rot in hell. 

“Hey!” Thomas stood up and put his hands out as if feigning surrender, “Theo I am not accusing you of setting a blood curse on someone.”

The wizard swallowed hard, his throat suddenly far to dry, something that showed when he tried to speak and failed miserably only coming up with a raspy sounding, “You’re not?

“No. You’re right, blood curses are illegal. Eradicated in the UK except for in specialized situations of dark magic occurring in black markets. That is because blood curses are traceable, requiring the caster and the victim's blood.” Thomas gave a careful nod, lowering his hands and motioning back towards the chairs, “Let's take a seat, yeah?” 

Theo looked nervously at the chair, as if it would bite him should he get too close. But Thomas sat first, a show of trust and faith in the conversation that had escalated far too quickly. Theo followed that wavering branch of faith.

“Causa Morta blood curses are the only untraceable blood curses still operational within the United Kingdom. That is because the perpetrator most often dies before the curse can cause any effect. They are given on a deathbed, and enacted afterwards, it is impossible to find and punish.” 

“And…” He felt it before he understood, deep in his chest something fell over and died. It sank and sank and his blood pumped faster and faster,  he didn’t understand he couldn’t think fast enough to get to where his heart already was, “What are you telling me…”

Thomas didn’t speak fast enough, only giving a nod and opening his mouth before Theo cut him off.

“Are you,” He couldn’t speak again the rasping taking over, “Are you telling me that- that I have…” The words got stuck somewhere between his throat and his lips and the unspoken phrase hung heavy in his mind. 

Dean gracefully reached out and touched Theo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Theo, do you know anyone who could have done this?”

The question hung itself on a thousand points in his life. Thomas knew that much, he’d just asked a man who’d lived through a war if he’d been the person to hear anyone’s last words. If he’d been the one to hear any particular person’s last dying breath. Flashes of faces and screams before his eyes, of fire and smoke and dust and debris all settling on one point. 

All of those years, the words had nearly faded from memory now. 

He was 23 and just beginning to think that he didn’t need to end the Nott line. That there was something in it worth saving. 

Yet...he was 24 nearly to the day when he discovered that his heart was going to give out before he saw 25. 

It was January when he found out. He likely won't see the next year. And he didn't want to tell her. No he couldn't possibly tell her. They'd been engaged for less than a month and they were planning a wedding, a wedding of all things. No she'd give it all up the moment that she found out. She'd tell him that he couldn't spend a dime on her, not when there was certainly a cure out there. The only problem was there wasn't a cure for this. Not this curse.

So no- he couldn't tell her. What was the point? She'd be sad, and it was selfish of him but he hated when she was sad. It broke his chest in half really. Right down the center, near the gnarliest of all his scars. When she was broken up and hurt it was like he could feel the wound resurfacing, it would burn and itch and ach, right there near his heart. And besides she'd treat him all fragile and fret and say that they shouldn't freak out and they should spend money researching, not on something so ridiculous as extra roses for the venue. Which she would of course, love to have but not now- not when there was something bigger at hand. The money should go to finding a cure, one that he knew wouldn't come because this wasn't a curse on him it was a curse from his very own blood to stuff in his veins. The ties were too strong. You can't separate a person from themselves. 

She'd treat him the way you treat a dog before you put it down. 

He couldn't stand that. 

From every moment forward he was on borrowed time, he would decidedly be making the best of it. A dying man with a blank check.

The Nott line ends with you. It hadn’t been a request, or an expression of disappointment. It had been a promise. Causa Morta.