Sedlit qui timuit ne non succederet
He who feared he would not succeed sat still.
LOST GAUNT HEIR EMERGES FROM HIDING!
By Rita Skeeter, November 1, 1995
Many people know that the Gaunt seats, the last of Salazar Slytherin’s direct descendents ( see page 2) , has been empty for many years. Since the previous Lord of the House was expelled from his Wizengamot seats after landing himself in Azkaban for a long period of time. . .
. . . Marvolo Gaunt has emerged from hiding after. . . Exclusive interview with the new Lord of Slytherins ( see page 4) reveals that due to his own relative having besmirched the great name of Slytherin, his family went into hiding. . .
CLASSES OF OLDE HOGWARTS REMOVED? TRADITION AND CULTURE RETURNED AT LAST!
By Rita Skeeter, December 20, 1995
Since the removal of Etiquette and Traditions lessons, a core class taken by all and every kind of student, was removed in the early 1930s, there has been a drastic decline in proper mannerism amongst witches and wizards.
Now, it is not to say that many of us are uneducated in terms of etiquette and that we display barbaric behaviour, however, it must be said that these lessons are essential to our world as we preserve our traditions. . .
THERE IS NO EVIL IN DARK MAGIC!!
By E. Fenetre, March 18, 1996
After a rather public meeting of the Wizengamot, it has been announced that dark magic has finally been legalised once more.
The law that made dark magic illegal was made in March 1937 (turn to page 3 for more). Initially, the main cause of this law's creation was to prevent the use of dangerous dark magic by the followers of the previous Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald.
However, on March 1 1996, young Lord Gaunt appealed to the court that there is no evil in Dark Magic, rather, there is evil in the people who wield it. It has been proven that even the lightest of spells like a simple Wingardium Leviosa can cause fatal wounds…
DARK STUDIES: FREEDOM OF EDUCATION IN HOGWARTS!
By E. Fenetre, July 8 1996
It is well known that the Hogwarts curriculum has been revised upon the discovery that our beloved school is lacking compared to other magical schools. Thankfully, individuals like Lord Gaunt, Lady Malfoy, Amelia Bones, Lord and Lady Greengrass, and Julius Abbott—Head of the department of Education.
Since the reform of the curriculum, beginning with the addition of Etiquette and Culture classes as core lessons, Hogwarts has been able to catch up with the standards of other wizarding schools. However, the curriculum lacked diversity as the main focus of these classes were light and grey magic.
However, as of June 31, 1996, a new class named Dark Studies has been integrated in order to educate students on the Dark Arts that have been stigmatised for decades. . .
The most recent paper had been quite a delight to half of Britain's wizarding society. The revision of Hogwarts curriculum had been an action heavily advocated by members of the Wizengamot—be it members of the dark, grey, and light. However, it must be said that families who have declared for the Dark have never been happier in decades.
Old Adrik Nott had been rather smug that Dark Arts— Dark Studies —was finally returned to the Hogwarts curriculum. Though he hadn't managed to enter Hogwarts before the removal of such classes, he had still suffered from the agitation of his seniors of how such an important class was removed because of the actions of others.
He hadn't been too surprised when his own grandson went and demanded to be transferred the Durmstrang. But it was peculiar of Theo…
“Dedushka,” a voice says and Adrik merely hums from his seat by the fire. Turning his gaze towards his grandson, the man could not help but smile as he stood up, patting away nonexistent dust from his robes.
“Theodore, мой внук. Добро пожаловать домой.” Adrik chuckles, opening his arms as he grins softly at his only heir. —my grandson. Welcome home.
Theo shakes his head, swiftly crossing the room to give his grandfather a hug. There is a smile on his face, something that the public does not often see. He had grown to be a fine young man, especially after transferring schools. Though Adrik was quite displeased to know that his grandchild would be so far from him, he had never failed to be proud of the man his grandson became. He was old and lonely—not that he would admit it—man. His wife died from illness and taken too soon, his son was stuck in Azkaban. And good riddance for that.
“You've grown since Ostara.” Adrik observes, nodding in satisfaction as he pats Theo's shoulder. “Durmstrang has done well for you. If you were to graduate there, I just know that you will have many opportunities.”
Theo's expression turns sullen, sighing as he bitterly smiles at Adrik. “Dedushka, I've already decided to return to Britain.”
“Bah! Hogwarts may be improving but it is nowhere near the greatness of Durmstrang. What would be the benefit of returning to this wretched place?” Adrik scoffs, returning to his seat as he glares at Theo. “The new generation might be working to repeal the laws but that will take time. Go back to Russia if you must.” Adrik does not hide his scowl, his displeasure of knowing that Theo's potential must be squashed because of the lack of education in their country. If he must, he would move to Russia—their family's origin country—himself just for Theo to be saved from the depravity of Britain's system.
Theo sighs, unceremoniously grabbing the bottle of whiskey Adrik had drank from. The young man pours himself a glass, taking a sip as he stares at the fire. “I need to return to fix the connections we've made. If we move now, all our efforts will be for naught. Perhaps, when I am to marry, I will move us to Russia, but not now.”
“What are connections when we already have them in Russia?”
“They are fickle relationships, dedushka. The ones we've made here are born from years of exchange and communication. Would you really be willing to toss out the good relationship we've made with the Malfoys, Greengrasses, and Rosiers for something so simple?” Theo sighs, sitting opposite to his grandfather.
Adrik, begrudgingly, admits that he would be bitter if he had to do such a thing. Generations of good will—thrown down the drain just because he wanted to move—absurd.
“If we move to Russia, it's not like we'll be the same there. Generations of connections? Please. We're not as well acquainted with the Zolotovs and Medvedevs as we are to the Malfoys.” Theo explains, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. “Besides, I heard from our Dark Studies professor that it is her teaching apprentice who will be going to Hogwarts.”
“Oh?”
“Hmm… Roksana Solovyova.” He drawls, tilting his head. “She was a good teacher. That, I can attest.”
Adrik shook his head again, sighing in exasperation as he rubbed his throbbing temple. He glares at Theo, returning with a charming smile—and oh did that boy look so much like his grandmother when he smiled like that. Admittedly, Adrik was quite weak to it.
“Very well,” Adrik sighs, “But don't regret your decisions.”
“I won't.”
“We'll see…” Adrik grunts, glancing at Theo again. He sees the dazed look on his grandson's eyes, making him frown. “What of that Peverell boy you are friends with? Was he not angry that you would leave?”
Theo perks up when the name Peverell is brought up. To be fair, even Adrik was surprised when Theo had written of a strange boy named Peverell in his fifth year. The name Peverell was supposedly extinct, but apparently, this one was a legitimate heir with the ring and everything.
“Well… he told me to write to him.” Theo cleared his throat, avoiding Adrik’s eyes. “And well… yes, he was quite annoyed when I had to leave but he was understanding. Last I knew, he was deep into his research paper for final requirements. Obsessive he is. I could never get him away from his Principles of Magic and Dark Studies research.”
“Good on him. Why couldn't you be like that?”
Theo scowls, “Peverell is an unhinged academic. Dedushka, I would hope you are to never meet him at all with his mania. I did not lie when I said he almost blew up half the castle when working on a spell.”
“If you say so…” Adrik grumbles, taking a sip of his whiskey. He flicks his wand, making the Daily Prophet zoom into Theo's hands. “Read it. Best you catch up on society's latest agendas. Be wary of Gaunt,” Adrik falters, gritting his teeth as the picture of a familiar man flashes before him. “He's trouble, regardless of how good his work is.”
Theo's brow raised, a question bubbling in his throat before he shoved it back down. Shrugging, he begins to read the prophet, amused with the latest gossip. Perhaps he'll convene with his old circle of friends. Hopefully they would be welcoming, but knowing the group of pureblood Slytherins, they would be anything but.
On the fifteenth of July, Theo and Adrik found themselves in Malfoy Manor.
“Tsk… such formalities. I often regret befriending Abraxas.” Adrik sighs, shaking his head as his grandson soon follows out of the fireplace. “Twenty years of marriage. Narcissa and Lucius must be happy.”
Theo hums, crossing his arms over his chest. The 20th anniversary Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Having lasted that long should be applauded in his opinion. Then again, it was a small secret that Draco was the reward of three years of hard work on their part. Theo often snorted when Draco regales the fact that he was an only child, parading that he was the only child his parents had wanted. It had been an accident when Theo heard his grandfather drunkenly speak of how Draco was the only child they could have. He's known this for long but never was cruel enough to spit it on Draco's face.
“Look alive, son.” Adrik laughs, loud and arrogant that it makes some heads turn in their direction. “Go mingle, boy. You say connections are valuable? Rekindle the ones you left behind. If you wish to look for me, I will be in the bar, mourning with the other folk of my generation.”
Adrik grins, before pressing on Theo's shoulder. “Do not shame our house, Theodore.”
Theo, finally used to the pressure his grandfather occasionally pressed on him, nodded in understanding. “I won't. I swear on it.”
Theo sighs as his grandfather departs, slinking off to the open bar where other elderly wixens have gathered. Some were already sombre, trying to be polite about the celebration. He supposed that his grandfather was displeased that he only had his wife four little over 20 years before she succumbed to illness.
As he turns away, he's met with a dark gaze that he knows far too well. A grin stretches across his face, sauntering towards the clearly fuming girl with confidence that should not be weighted upon his shoulders.
“Theodore Nott.”
“Pansy Parkinson.”
He expected to be slapped but Pansy was cordial, a pinched smile on her face as she hooked their arms together. The air around them turned prickly, reacting to Pansy's magic as she guided him towards a particularly sceptical group.
“How have you been?” He nonchalantly asks, tilting his head towards her.
Pansy wryly smiles, “Very well, if you must know. I must say, you come as a surprise. Why didn't you write to us about your return, hm? Ashamed?”
“Me? Ashamed?” He scoffs, “Please, Pansy. If anything, I'm quite delighted with myself. Durmstrang was wonderful, if you must know.” He sarcastically repeats her words.
Pansy tightened her grip on him, nails digging into his sleeve as they were welcomed by the usual circle of Slytherin heirs.
“Nott,” Draco coldly greets, narrowing his eyes at the other boy as if to see if there was a hint of treachery in him. Of course, Theo has expected this. They were sensitive heirs who deemed his sudden transfer a betrayal to their friendship, something akin to abandonment.
“Don't be too prickly.” Theo sighs, taking Daphne's hand and gently pressing a kiss to it. “I'm back for seventh year, alright? Even though I wanted to graduate in Durmstrang, circumstances decided the opposite. So, why don't we make up and be nice?”
Draco scowls, while Blaise shakes his head in amusement.
Daphne hums softly, “Why have you returned to Britain? I distinctly remember you leaving in a blade of glory, claiming that you'll finally be educated in our heritage that we were deprived of. Your letters weren't as descriptive as I expected.”
Theo shrugs, “Running from my heir duties no longer matters as I've already come of age. It's only natural that I return now. At the very least, Hogwarts is decent now.” he chuckles, still amused by the displeasure in Draco's eyes. Two years of being away and he's already casted as an outsider. “Your Dark Studies professor is an alumnus of Durmstrang. I'm sure it'll be fine.”
The mention of Dark Studies has them relaxing a bit.
“Really? Do you know her?”
“She was the assistant teacher when I had transferred. She's wonderful, mind you, but I suppose you must restrain your judgement until you've been in a class with her.” Theo chuckles, “Though I am concerned with the students who've been thoroughly brainwashed into believing that Dark Magic is evil.”
“A shame indeed.” Draco sighs, taking a sip of his champagne and watches as his parents parade around the room, happily celebrating their 20th anniversary. “At least the Weasleys have been cleansed of generational brainwashing.”
“Ah, so it's true then?” Theo blinks in surprise, “Ron Weasley has been active in restoring Dark Magic. Same with his older brothers.”
“And the sister.” Pansy grudgingly adds.
Draco simply shrugs again, “Since Potter and Granger up and vanished, he's been more tame but he gets aggressive when you press on too much. He knows where they went, I'm sure of it.”
“Draco.” Daphne implores with a warning tone. “What have we said about this… fascination with the missing members of the golden trio, hm?”
Again, Draco scowls and turns away, giving his attention to an eager young witch who practically stumbled her way towards him. As per usual, he awards the girl with a charming smile, tilting his head as he supposedly listens to her ramble about how wonderful he was.
“What's happened to Weasley? I heard that Granger disappeared after Potter went missing, but nothing much on the last Gryffindor.” Theo nurses the glass of champagne close to his chest, taking a quiet sip before looking between Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne.
Blaise scoots closer, “All sorts of shit went down when people realised that only Weasley was coming back for fifth year.”
“Blaise!”
“What? It's true. The Gryffindors rioted when they found out that Granger apparently transferred. Some called her a traitor and Weasley cursed them to the next week for it.” Blaise rolled his eyes, but there's a soft and fond look in his eyes in the way he speaks of Weasley. “He's been pretty decent ever since. ‘pparently, with his house cussing out his friends, he's gone and went mad.”
Pansy shakes her head, “Suppose’ it's true. If you encounter him when term starts, try not to start a fight, okay? I'm quite sure the devil twins have taught him a lot of dark curses since the repeal of the Dark Magic ban.”
Theo nods, understanding and intrigued. The events that occured since his transfer seemed quite interesting. He's almost mournful that he hadn't been in Hogwarts during that time—till he remembers how great Durmstrang had been. The classes, the teachers, the students.
Topics shift and change and it once again lands on Durmstrang. The Hogwarts students listened with wrapped attention when Theo vividly described how wonderful it was to perform rituals in the castle when the holidays arrived. The Samhain ritual where students are given ritual rooms to commune with the dead, the early Yule feast that bids students farewell for those who returned home for the holidays, the early Ostara, Mabon. They were awed, impressed that Durmstrang openly celebrated such holidays, while their school could barely hold a proper Yule feast at this point.
Theo can describe his first Samhain ritual in the castle. He had been invited by his fellow fifth years and some older students to perform the ritual outside rather than in a room, where some beginners were told to perform. It had been amazing, basking in the presence of those they lost. He described—feigning teary eyes—that he had heard his mother's voice when performing the ritual. That easily garnered him some sympathy and grand curiosity from his peers who have never experienced a proper Samhain night.
Conversations trailed off after that. It was fairly pleasant, even as he was pulled aside by Ministry officials, trying to curry favour from House Nott. Course, the entire thing was an annoying affair but he plastered a smile across his face and endured. Even when he's on the verge of fleeing from the frivolities and taking back his decision to return, he stays and smiles.
“Oh… Gaunt has arrived.” Daphne mutters, setting her champagne down and diligently straightening the wrinkles on her dress.
Theo falters, glancing at the people who have immediately flocked around the man. Aristocratic and sharp features with an inevitable presence of magic —Marvolo Gaunt was difficult and easy to describe as he observed the man. He wore his House’s colours, the deep green robes he wore were fitted to his figure perfectly and he caught the attention of everyone ever so easily.
“And why are you prettying up?”
Pansy glares at him, “Watch your tongue, Theodore. Who wouldn't want to look presentable for Britain's most famous wizard?”
Theo rolls his eyes, “Of course, of course. Anything on Gaunt?” He leans closer to Blaise, raising a brow at the other boy.
Like the lover of gossip he was, Blaise grins. “Marvolo Gaunt… Some say he's a bastard of the house and had enough magic to stake a claim on the Gaunts' empty vaults. Others say he's the Dark Lord's son. No one truly knows, but it's clear that the man means what he says. He's been changing the ministry to his design since he arrived two years ago.”
“Are we meant to be approving of him or…”
“Oh, we definitely like him. He's decent enough.” Blaise hides a laugh behind his wine glass, eyes narrowed as Draco is ushered by his mother to greet the young Lord. “Make your own judgement, Theo. I'm sure it'll be good.”
There's a dark tone in the way he speaks. Theo can't help but grin.
His eyes narrowed as Gaunt flattered the elder ladies of different houses, appealing to him. The man was good but did he mean trouble?
He turns towards his grandfather. Adrik glances at him, lazily grins as he tips his glass towards Theo. He had to make his own judgments then.
BOY-WHO-VANISHED: HARRY POTTER STILL M.I.A.
By Rita Skeeter, July 31 1997
It has been two years since the disappearance of our dear boy-who-lived. Harry Potter's locations had yet to be perceived and the reasons for his disappearance have not been discovered as of late. To this day, Lord Sirius Black and Lady Narcissa Malfoy continue to search for the missing boy.
Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter, has refused any comment on the disappearance of his closest friend. Meanwhile, Miss Hermione Granger remains unknown after leaving the country right before the start of term…
…Wherever you are, Harry Potter, we wish you a Happy Birthday and safe return.
Theo stares at the article. It managed to place itself on the front page of the prophet, for Morgana's sake. He couldn't help but laugh.
“Theodore!”
He sighs, setting the prophet down and getting up from the comfortable seat he had been in. Adrik's voice had come from the study, leading him to the second floor and knocking until his grandfather muttered a ‘come in’.
“Dedushka, do you need anything?” Theo asks, trying to be polite as he closes the door behind him.
The expression on his grandfather’s face implied that nothing good was going to come out of his mouth. He slammed a letter down on his desk, making Theo flinch at the sudden aggression. Quietly, he shifted closer to take a good look at the letter. It was a ministry letter, from what he's seen on the sigil at the top.
“They're requesting to give Thaddeus a re-trial.”
Theo flinched, gritting his teeth as he glanced at his grandfather.
“And why, pray tell, do they wish to do that? He was found guilty of abusing and murdering my mother. I don't understand how they doubt his sentence now, after all these years.”
“The re-trial of Sirius Black has them questioning everything. Bones has been taking out every single Death Eater file to check if they ended up in Azkaban like Black, without a trial.” Adrik grumbles, rubbing the side of his head. “Thaddeus had his trial, but not on his transgressions as a Death Eater. If he is found guilty, his sentence is shortened for the appropriate charges.”
Adrik takes a cigarette from his drawer, lighting it soon after and sighing in annoyance. His gaze softened as he glances at Theo. “He'll have his trial in the next month… You are not required to join, of course. It's my burden to shoulder.”
“No… I'll be alright. If the trial pulls through then I want to see him be dragged back to Azkaban.” Theo sighs, clasping his hands behind his back. He smiles thoughtlessly at his grandfather, “May I be excused? I have a letter to write.”
Adrik grumbles, “Of course… You are excused.”
Theo smiles again, briskly leaving the room and shutting the door quietly. A deep breath later and he's dashing to his room to send his owl to Germany.
There was the scent of ink, parchment, and a bit of smoke. The clattering noise of things falling and the sounds of small explosions echoed through the hall.
Theo's owl warily enters through the window, perched on a table. It is found by a young lady, curious and intrigued as she approaches him. “Well hello, darling. It seems Theo isn't too up to the task.” She chuckles, caressing the owl's feathers. It croons into her touch as she gently removes the letter tied to its leg. “Poor thing. You must be tired. Here, have some food before you go.”
The owl hoots softly as the girl retreats out of the hall.
There was no proper sigil on the wax seal. A simple flick of her wand reveals the letters ‘T.V.N.’ Theo's initials. It almost tempts her to take a ceremonial knife and cut open the letter. But she resists, clicking her tongue as she marches down the basement, not even sparing the door a knock as she barges in.
“Theo's sent a letter.”
Another book carckles through the basement room, forcing her to erect a shield in front of her. A scowl sets in her face as the boy dispells the smoke. His boyish smile etched across his face as sparks of orange and purple burn from the tip of his wand. The remnants of what seemed to be a cauldron are shattered to tiny pieces on the floor.
“What have you done this time?”
“New spell, of course.” he grins, outstretching his hand to receive the letter. “Now, Mione, let's see what little Theo has for us.”