Minister Weasley
Theodore Nott did not have much in the way of friends. When he left wizarding London behind, he expected this to remain the same.
He refused to allow himself to get close to anyone – not in any real way that mattered. They would only disappoint you, in the end.
He was surprised by Ginevra’s willingness and ability to be so warm with him – he wondered if it was because he didn’t see her as Littlest Weasley Ginny Weasley, rather, the forever elegant Ginevra Zabini.
Visiting the Nott vaults was the first on his errands list. Slowly and not noticeably draining the vault and transferring it into Muggle currency was tedious, but necessary.
He was going to have to be more creative.
Selling his mother’s jewelry wasn’t ideal, but he would do it.
The appointment at the Minister’s office wasn’t until later that afternoon. Theo was nervous. The truth revealing itself could end everything for him. He was lucky to have an Unbreakable Vow from the Minister.
Theo chose a Victorian-style choker that his mother did not favor, the rubies inlaid in the deep set silver looked almost like blood being spilled from the neck. He picked out another one of his father’s solid gold pocket watches, and a few diamond hairpins.
He thought HJ would look beautiful with the pins in her hair. The diamonds would sparkle. He imagined the way her hair would crackle with magic when she was angry, how the diamond pins would look against the dark curls.
She had only grown more beautiful in motherhood. Her skin was warm with time spent in the sun at the park with Willa, chocolate freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes, though oftentimes filled with worry, were still full of love and admiration. Watching her grow alongside Willa had been rewarding for them both.
It hadn’t been part of his plan – falling in love with her. He had hoped that they would make an advantageous match, love aside.
As he made his way out of the Muggle pawnbrokers, he was lost in thought. It took him a moment to notice Malfoy was following him again. Not in the mood for a confrontation, he made his way back to the Manor before apparating back to Muggle London. He appeared in an alleyway near the bank where he had opened a new account.
Theo deposited the money with enough time to spare for a cup of tea before his meeting with Minister Weasley.
The lobby of the Ministry of Magic was bustling. Witches and wizards from all over the world rushed towards their meetings, briefcases and bags in hand.
Theo saw Potter pass by a couple of times, running back and forth between his office and the Ministry floo.
He discarded his empty tea cup and no matter how many times he had ridden one of the all-ways elevators, the feeling of unease as he was jostled around never subsided.
Minister Weasley had been an interesting choice, Theo thought. He had been chosen by the Wizengamot, despite not claiming his ancestral seat.
Theo supposed that after the war it would be good press to make a Muggle-lover the Minister for Magic.
It was a shame that it was the Minister for Magic who had received the letter from his mother upon her death, though.
Arthur Weasley was a man of honor – and that wasn't even the hardest part about keeping all of this quiet.
Theo greeted the Minister’s secretary before sitting in one of the black leather chairs in the waiting area. The black and white tile on the floor was hard to look at, the contrast striking. He found himself watching the grandfather clock in the corner – Minister Weasley was running late.
Theo found his eyes meeting a striking pair of blue ones – the youngest boy Weasley. Ronald. Ron. Hermione's Ron.
Theo watched as Minister Weasley clapped his son on the back and walked him to the floo, “--like I said, Ron. There is nothing that can be done about it now, so do not bother her.”
“Dad, it’s bloody mental. She had a baby with him!”
Arthur Weasley grimaced, “Why don’t you go stay with your mum for a while? Or take a visit out to Shell Cottage – Bill and the girls would love to see you.”
Ron looked apprehensive. He chucked the floo powder into the fireplace before calling, “The Burrow.”
“Mr. Nott.” Minister Weasley said, rubbing the skin at his temple, “Pardon, Lord Nott. Apologies for my tardiness, let’s take this meeting into my office, shall we?”
Minister Weasley silenced the door as he shut it behind Theo. “Any luck?” Theo asked, easing with grace into the chair. Arthur had significantly changed the decor when he took office. The black and white theme was gone, rather, cozy reds and golds and creams filled the space. There were Muggle lamps all over the room, flickering with the swells of magic that attempted to power them.
“I don’t know where the other letters were sent,” Minister Weasley replied, removing the hat from his head. “I tried to ask as delicately as I could. Harry has remained mum on the subject, though I imagine if he did receive one, Malfoy would know already.”
“Are they really that close?” Theo scoffed, “No one was ever that close with Malfoy in school.” Not even me.
“The end of the war changed things – Harry’s intervention in Malfoy’s Azkaban stay is what started their friendship. Those two are like brothers now. Even closer than my own son and Harry.”
“Well, let us thank Merlin for that small mercy.” Theo’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
The Minister looked far away, though his gaze was on the family portrait on the wall. “I think you would be better off getting in front of it – before anyone else finds the truth.”
“And then what?” Theo spat, “Lose everything I have? The title, the estate – Hermione?”
“Hermione Granger does not care about any of that, Theodore.” Arthur sighed, as if he was consoling a second son. “All Hermione cares about, I imagine, is her daughter having a happy life. Far be it from me to say that she would care less if you were a Lord or not.”
“If she finds out the truth about my… parentage , it will change things.”
“What does it change?”
“Everything,” Theo sighed, standing up. “Inform me if you come across any of these other recipients of that blasted letter, Minister.”
Arthur Weasely nodded, “Son, I don’t want to see you lose anything. Wouldn’t it help you in the long term for the world to know who your father was – your real father? He was a good man – a brave man.”
“Perhaps if I was the eldest born,” Theo paused, “--regardless, it changes nothing. Draco is entitled to everything. My witch and daughter included.”