Chapter 1
Theodore Nott stepped gracefully out of the dusty fireplace into the small kitchen, overflowing with nerves. His heart hammered in his chest as he examined his surroundings, finding it more charming than he’d expected.
The kitchen of the Weasley homestead was colourful and warm, and surprisingly homely as dishes washed themselves in the open sink rather than hidden in a faraway room in a labyrinth of servant’s quarters away from the prying eyes of visitors.
He found he liked the mismatched chairs and chipped ornaments, items that proudly wore the signs of a family home, a place where people lived, not just existed.
It was a stupid plan.
And quite frankly dangerous, though Theodore was currently the only one at risk.
A wand was at his throat before he could consider the interesting clock.
He glanced to his right, stupidly relaxing.
“Granger,” Theo purred, “fancy seeing you here,”
Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, eyes flitting over him as she tried to solve the puzzle of his appearance. She wore a large wooly jumper over Gryffindor red plaid pajamas, was barefoot, and her hair had been bundled on top of her head. All things considered, she looked rather sweet.
“Don’t jinx me now Granger,” he warned, then regretted his next words before he’d even spoken them, “I’ll give you my wand,”
The pressure against his jugular eased momentarily, and Theo reached down with his left hand to shove up his right sleeve, revealing his leather holster and after taking a deep breath, he sacrificed the arm to Granger.
She snatched the wand quickly and darted back three steps.
Theo took a half-relieved breath and re-adjusted his sleeve, holding his hands up in surrender at the now two wands pointed at his chest.
He observed his own wand with narrowed eyes, not able to suppress the betrayal at being held at wandpoint by his own damn wand, as though he didn’t hand it over and the wretched thing should’ve acted of its own accord and returned loyally to his side.
“What are you doing here?” Granger asked sharply, speaking to him for the first time with a voice bleary from sleep.
Theo raised his hands further, and lowered his head, regarding his double-weaponed foe like one might a testy dragon, “shout for mummy and daddy Weasley, I need to speak with them,” he spoke slowly and carefully.
He really hoped she wouldn’t jinx him.
Those quick eyes catalogued him again, “no,” she scoffed, “I’ve seen you, you don’t need this wand,” she enunciated her point by waving his dragon heartstring wand, then took another cautious step back.
Theo hoped she returned it; he was rather fond.
“Move that glass,” she pointed to a half-filled glass of milk amongst the mess on the worn wooden table, she’d probably been enjoying it peacefully before his intrusion.
He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not a circus act Granger,” he refuted, but with enough concentration, the milk in the glass swirled around itself, forming a small tornado before his attention returned to her, “I became head of my house a little bit early,” he explained, then added, “as you might recall,”
The influx of power from taking on the helm was nearly overwhelming at seventeen. He’d decided to get it under control quickly after splitting his pants down the centre when attempting to lazily unzip them with magic.
It’d been the first time he’d heard Malfoy laugh in months.
“And where’s the rest of your house?” Granger demanded, cutting off Theo’s rendezvous to better times, better meaning when his father still rotted in Azkaban, and she glanced through the window worriedly.
Theo clenched his jaw, “I’m not in cahoots with my father, Hermione, the man’s a nutcase, and I’d be dead if any of them found me here, hence my need to chat to your little boyfriend’s parents, if you could please be a doll and shout them,” he instructed, firmer this time.
Granger flinched at him speaking her first name but her shoulders relaxing minutely, “you never looked too upset about him being imprisoned,” she said, instead of doing as she was told.
Theo snorted, “upset? I inherited a few billion and spent the summer in Tuscany, do you like wine Granger? I do, and I also like not being ruled over by a megalomaniac,”
She didn’t react to any of his words, “no one knows you’re here, I don’t wish to threaten you, but you’ll tell me more than that,” she warned.
He smirked mysteriously, “I have information that your little club might benefit from,” he wished he had something to do with his hands, like menacingly twirling his wand. He wouldn’t beg for their audience.
“For a price,” she sneered, with enough venom to rival most of his house.
Theo’s eyebrows rose, “I have things too, resources but I can’t risk returning home, nor going anywhere I might be found,”
Granger stomped towards him and gripped his hand firmly, she pushed up his left sleeve, finding a pale forearm dotted with freckles and the watch he’d bought himself for his coming of age.
Her grip on his hand tightened to near painful as she stared down at the forearm, then back up to his face, “you’re defecting,” she whispered to herself, then cleared her throat, “you’re defecting,” she repeated, this time as more of a statement.
“I wasn’t on any side, Granger,” he told her truthfully, hoping to convey whatever she needed that would get him an audience with the Order of the Phoenix.
She nodded to herself, releasing his hand, then pulled out a chair.
He glanced at it, then at her, before he sank onto it with a sigh; it’d been a long day.
Theo briefly worried she would stick him to it before she gave him one last cautious glance and jogged up the stairs, taking his wand with her.
Theo looked around again, finally getting a chance to study the curious clock. It had many hands, and seemingly no purpose other than to show the location of each of the family members. All but two members were at home, it was too far for him to discern which hand belonged to who, but concerningly, one member was ‘lost’.
The rest of the room was homely. Two seats down, the twins, Fred and George had carved their names into the table along with two rudimentary stick men. Childish drawings had been hung up alongside photographs and boxes of what looked to be party decorations were piled up in the corner. He was hit with such a deep sense of longing that it nearly knocked him sideways.
No wonder Potter liked them so much.
The whispering he’d been ignoring upstairs ceased and feet thundered down the rickety steps.
Theo’s thighs involuntarily tensed, heart-racing at the inbound assault.
The patriarch appeared first, his arm out holding his wife behind him.
A real man.
Arthur Weasley wore striped pajamas, he was barefoot and his glasses sat askew, but the vehemently defensive expression on his face warned Theo not to try anything as his family poured down the stairs behind him; four sons, a daughter, Granger, and the eldest’s fiancée Fleur Delacour.
He’d done his research.
Theo looked over them, ruffled from sleep, and felt briefly apologetic.
“Why are you here, Nott?” Arthur Weasley asked firmly, he stepped closer, “how did you get through the wards?”
Theo dipped his head respectfully, and looked up to him, “you’re members of the order, I heard stories about your brothers,” he explained, looking to Molly Weasley, who lifted her chin defiantly.
“I won’t repeat myself, son,” Mr Weasley scolded, his voice stern but gentle; fatherly.
Theo looked away, “I apologise for the intrusion,” he started, “but I thought approaching the wards might feel like an attack, I needed to speak with you,” Theo spoke carefully, then he met Mr Weasley’s eye briefly, “I thought the wards on your fireplace might be less rigid than the property line so I entered that way, I have no sinister intentions,”
Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Granger, who nodded briefly.
It was fascinating, a pureblooded head of house deferring to a muggleborn woman, a brilliant one, but Theo had never seen it happen before.
Arthur sighed heavily, “couldn’t you have come in the morning?”
Theo snorted in amusement at such a bizarre question, “tomorrow you’re rescuing Potter,” Theo recalled.
Hackles went up around the room, “how do you know that?” Mrs Weasley demanded.
“He’s not marked,” Granger spoke quickly.
Theo kept his eyes on Mr Weasley, as in his periphery multiple wands pointed ominously in his direction, “I can explain,”
Mr Weasley turned to his wife and they exchanged wordlessly.
After a moment, Mrs Weasley sighed, “I’ll put the kettle on then,” she declared as her husband nodded at her, “sit down children, or I’ll be tripping over the lot of you,”
Theo was then surrounded by glaring red heads as they settled into their seats, Granger offered him a sympathetic half-smile but was elbowed by the youngest Weasley who then shot him a vicious glare.
He’d sat at worse tables and come out the other end.
There was silence whilst Mrs Weasley brewed the tea, everyone got a cup, including Theo. He added a splash of milk and one sugar then waited for questioning.
Mr Weasley glanced at his wife.
She sighed, “alright, out with it,”
Theo spilled out every secret he’d been hiding for the last two years.
Once he started, there was no stopping him.
He began with how he’d disowned his father, burnt every item in his office, then told Marcus Flint to tell every young ambitious wealthy man to get the hell out of Britain. Then went onto how he’d tried to help Draco escape, tried to sabotage Draco, locked down his Castle, sent his house elves to spy on his father, then freed said house elves, up until now where he had months of information and wanted out too.
Nine sets of eyes stared at him for a long moment.
Mrs Weasley made an odd noise in the back of her throat, “well, you’ve been busy,”
Theo grinned wryly, and reached for his brew.
“You freed your elves?” Granger asked, astonished.
Theo looked towards her, not missing the rolling of eyes down the table, “I can give you a retrospective donation to S.P.E.W, if you have the time to still run it,”
Her eyebrows shot up, then she scowled incredulously, “it’s not funny they’re-“
Theo cut her off, “I know, Granger, I know how they’re treated, I freed them and gave them a little cottage on my grounds, they’re going to maintain the property whilst I’m gone and will protect it from my father, I wasn’t joking, I’m very fond of them,”
She examined him for a moment then nodded, “are they being paid?”
A laugh burst out before he could stop it. She blushed, embarrassed, but Theo smiled softly.
“Yes, Granger, they’re being paid, their rates were extortionate,”
She smiled happily at that.
Mr Weasley chuckled, “we’ve some friends coming in the morning, you can tell us what you know then,”
Theo nodded, “I’ve written it all down,”
Mr Weasley’s eyebrows rose, “all of it?”
“Yes, every time I got new information, I wrote it down, some might be out of date but it’s all there,”
“May I see it?” He asked, gently, holding out a hand, his worn wedding band catching the light.
Many magical men refused to wear them, not wanting to be bound by their wives, Theo wasn’t sure why the little gold band gave him the last shred of courage he needed but it did.
Despite that, he hesitated once more and glanced at the band again before he reached to his expanded breast pocket and pulled out the dragonhide book. It was a bit much, but he’d had it written in a leather one and had been kept awake at night worrying about water damage and coffee stains, amongst other things.
He hesitated again and handed it over, struggling to pry his stiff fingers from the cover.
Mr Weasley’s eyes softened, and he stood, riffling through a draw before producing a regular notebook.
He placed it beside Theo’s on the tabletop and unholstered his wand, duplicating Theo’s information, before passing it back.
Theo gingerly put it back in his pocket and nodded at him.
“What is that, Hebridean Black?” The eldest Weasley son William asked. The fresh scars from his attack by Greyback marred his face, though he wore them handsomely.
Theo blushed involuntarily, “I- yeah, I’ve re-written it twice, Draco nicked the first one and I had to shove his face a pair of Crabbe’s pants to get it back, so I switched it, but then I worried about something happening to it, so I found that book in vault,” he explained, patting over the pocket, “I don’t think it’s ethically sourced,” he added, cringing.
A couple of them snorted, likely at Theo trouncing Draco in a fight. It wasn’t difficult, Theo was scrappy.
“Did he read it?” Mr Weasley asked, brows furrowed in concern as he looked at Theo over his glasses, “he may either voluntarily, or involuntarily hand over the contents,”
Theo shook his head firmly, “he thought it was a diary, I made him swear an oath not to tell anyone, Zabini especially,”
Weasley looked amused for a moment before he nodded, “we can set you up on the couch,”
Theo waved him off, “I appreciate the thought, but I took a wide-eye potion about forty-five minutes ago, I won’t sleep for a while,”
One twin murmured something to the other, producing a particularly concerning look for Theo.
“We could sedate him,” the second mused aloud.
“We could knock him right out,” the first added.
Theo cringed.
“Boys,” Mrs Weasley scolded.
Upon brief reflection Theo could honestly do with some sleep, and he didn’t want to cause undue anxiety to the house’s occupants when they had such a big day tomorrow, “fine, but I want something non-experimental,” he told them firmly, “I’m not a first year, I will sue you,” he warned.
There were many surprised expressions, but the twins regarded him curiously.
“I’ve been bloody busy for the last two days, hiding things and arguing with the bank, I could do with a non-traumatising nap,” he elaborated.
The twins looked at each other, “we can offer you doxy venom or a bludger to the head,”
Theo cringed again, visibly this time. He played beater in his spare time, which was usually only at Draco’s house in summer. Theo was half the reason Draco was so good at dodging the nasty things. On the other hand, doxy venom was a vile substance, it knocked you out right and good for a while, but you had a banging headache in the morning, “do you have the antidote?”
They looked at each other again, then nodded.
“The moment I wake up,” he pointed at them.
They nodded again.
Theo reached for the offered vial, sparing a moment of thought for them having it available on hand, poured it in his tea, and downed the dreadful concoction in one.