Chapter 5
“Theo!”
He startled, the arm covering his eyes jerking to his side and hitting the mattress.
“Theodore,” Carmen called from downstairs.
His body immediately relaxed. Theo placed a hand to his slowing heart and took a deep breath.
Carmen called once again, more insistently. Unwilling to keep her waiting, Theo pushed himself up, grabbing a jumper and pulling it over his head as he jogged out of his room and across the landing.
“He’s coming,” Carmen informed someone tiredly.
Theo reached the kitchen quickly, bare feet protesting against the cold flags, he caught sight of Carmen sat at the kitchen table with a frown on her face, telephone in her hand.
When she spotted Theo, she spoke quietly into the phone and then held it out for him to take.
“Andromeda,” she explained, standing up from her seat and slipping past him, patting his chest fondly.
Theo’s stomach turned with nerves, but he was also, thankfully, observant so managed to lift the phone to the side of his face without fumbling around.
“Hello,” he spoke lowly, watching Carmen move to the sink out of the corner of his eye.
“Theodore,” Andromeda greeted plainly.
“Are you well?” He asked, tone grave as he waited for news.
“The ministry has fallen,” she stated without any preamble.
All of the air left his lungs and he braced himself with a hand on the sideboard and sunk down onto the chair.
“I see,” he swallowed harshly, glancing at Carmen, “the minister?”
“Dead.”
“The court?” He followed up hesitantly.
“Scattered, my Nymphadora is still going into work, they can’t find Selwyn, I imagine they will illegally appoint people in his stead,”
“They can’t find him?” Theo asked, concern lacing his tone.
Lord Selwyn’s estate rivalled the Malfoy’s, larger than his own. And he was pretty moderate considering their family history.
“They, Theodore,”
“Ah,”
“Potter escaped, we were successful, not without casualties though,”
“Who?” He asked quickly, his stomach tight.
“Moody, and George Weasley’s ear,”
Theo struggled for a little too long to find the appropriate answer.
“I have not heard of any mention of you,” Andromeda changed the subject tactfully.
Theo nodded to himself, “good, I’d imagine no one will be looking until I’m needed for something,”
Andromeda made an agreeable noise, “I received a visit from my sister,”
“Your sister?”
“Bella, and her husband,” she answered casually.
She was… “I see, and you are alright?”
“I am, Ted has decided to travel,”
“Travel?”
“It’s not safe here,” she explained, voice noticeably tighter, “where they are acutely aware of his presence,”
“Will he come here?” Theo asked, concerned. He wouldn’t want to take up a safe haven that could be used for someone more deserving.
“No, it’s not safe,”
“But-“
“You’re a misguided coward at worst if you’re found, he-“ her voice broke. “Well, you know what they think,”
Theo clenched his jaw, “and your other sister?” He asked quietly.
“In poor graces, though not as poor as mine,”
Theo nodded, though she couldn’t see, “it’s bad,”
“It’s all bad child, you’ll stay put?”
“I will,” he confirmed.
“Good boy, no wand?”
“It’s in my bag,”
“Leave it there.”
“I will,”
“Put Carmen back on the phone, please,”
He nodded, looking over to Carmen who was already watching him.
He held out the phone out to her.
She wiped her hands on her trousers and nodded, walking back over.
Theo brought the phone back to his ear, “thank you,” he spoke quietly, “goodbye,”
“Goodbye, Nott.”
No ministry, no court.
There’d be nothing he could do.
Taking himself out of the equation meant he could do no harm.
He’d have no choice in the matter if he returned.
That ring needed to stay buried.
Theo stared out to the moors.
The dry-stone wall he sat on was profoundly uncomfortable, digging into his bum at odd angles and causing a sideways curve to his spine that he’d regret later.
But he couldn’t make himself go back inside.
The shadows danced in the distance, every so often they would form almost a dark figure and his stomach would lurch.
It was a warm night, close, on the precipice of a storm.
No ministry, no court.
His head dropped, and his hands rose to press the heels of his hands to his eyes.
Hogwarts…
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about the forthcoming school year.
He should’ve asked more.
A reflection caught his eye and his heart almost stopped.
Silver.
It was moonlight.
It was moonlight.
The silver almost looked like a mask.
He’d found it once.
It was raining in the distance, the moonlight catching on the raindrops.
Sleep evaded in fiercely.
His thoughts ran rampant, turning over the information he’d been given.
Carmen had hinted that Andromeda’s child Nymphadora was in “law enforcement,” which sounded like a lawyer or an auror. But it made absolutely no sense that the aurors would be maintaining business as usual.
Aurors like Moody, the Longbottoms and the Prewetts had been the vanguard of the light in the previous war.
The resistance this time around was hopeless at best.
At least Potter was safe.
What an awful thought.
Objectively speaking, from six years of classes together, the guy was a nuisance. Adding on Draco’s endless barking about his nemesis and Theo’s opinion on Potter was similar to that on his opinion on a bat bogey hex.
Theo dared not to put his hope into the reckless knob.
Staring out at the moonlight moors, Theodore Nott felt one hundred years old, weighed down by the uncertainty of the future.
His eyes darted once again to a flash of silver, his muscles tensing, ready for flight.
Theo had only been in exile for a week. A week.
And the government has collapsed in on itself.
There was nothing he could do except not be a part of it.
He talked himself around in circles, damp from the fast-approaching storm and aching from his unforgiving seat.
“Are you stuck up there?”
Theo flinched harshly, then looked over his shoulder, finding Mary huddled in her pink dressing gown, hood pulled up. Her arms were crossed, and she scowled at him tiredly.
He signed deeply, “I will admit to going a bit numb,”
She pulled a face, “you’ve been sat there for ages, I was watching you from my window,” she pointed behind her to her bedroom window above the kitchen.
Theo forced a smirk, “if you wanted to watch me, you could’ve just asked,”
Mary completely ignored him, “I did a first aid course so I could put in on my uni application,” she explained unprompted, “I’m pretty sure I have a duty of care to prevent you from getting struck by lightning, or hypothermia,”
“It’s August,” he retorted quickly.
She narrowed her eyes at him, “fine,” she muttered to herself, and turned on her heel, wellies splashing in puddles along the overgrown path.
“Wait,” Theo choked out, “sorry, I got some news from home,”
Mary turned around, frown returning. Then she walked through the squeaky garden gate to stand in front of him. Her demeanor was patient and unjudging.
Theo clenched his jaw then looked down at her, “it’s pretty bleak at the moment,”
She hummed, head titling to the side.
“It,” he started, then cleared his throat, “it feels pretty cowardly hiding from it all, but if I went back, I’d be doing more harm than good,”
She nodded slowly, “seems pretty simple then,”
He looked over her and hesitant to keep her outside in the increasingly heavier rain. Theo glanced out at the moors once more, pushing down the dread, and jumped from the wall.
Mary smiled gently once they stood at a more similar height, “want a brew? We’ve got chamomile,”
With one final glance at the distance, he nodded, opening the gate for her to walk through. Theo followed Mary back into her house, locking the door behind them.
She didn’t know what a feeble defence that was.
Unable to do anything else, he pulled the small curtain in the centre of the door closed, covering the little window.
Mary was oblivious to his concern, wandering into the dimly lit kitchen and turning on the stove. She set about preparing their cups, one yellow, one blue.
Theo followed; footsteps quiet. They both took their respective seats on opposite ends of the kitchen island, waiting for the kettle to boil.
She didn’t press him for more information, instead looked across to the window sleepily, eyes drooping as she appeared to nod off.
Theo watched her almost fondly. Mary’s chin rested on her palm as her blinking slowed.
He was certain she was completely asleep after a minute or two. Breaths heavier and eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.
Careful not to disturb her, he slid off the bar stool to catch the kettle before it started to whistle, then poured them both a cup.
Wasting time, he stirred each cup idly while they brewed, using the menial task to occupy his mind.
They weren’t looking for him.
They weren’t.
Not yet anyway.
Behind him, Mary made the telltale grunt of a person startling themselves awake with their head slipping from their palm. She coughed to hide the noise, but Theo smirked to himself with his back to her.
He’d sat through enough of Umbridge’s Defence Against the Dark Arts ‘lessons’ to recognise it. Blaise would certainly never do something so inelegant but the same couldn’t be said for Draco, who’d flush a bold pink each time.
Theo picked up the mugs and turned towards the island, placing the blue cup in front of Mary and pausing, stood beside her.
She looked up with tired eyes, her hood falling off to reveal her hair plaited behind her. She lifted a single eyebrow.
He looked over her, “you snore.”
Mary scoffed, affronted, “I do not,”
Theo gave her a disbelieving expression and retreated back to his seat, “someone had to tell you…”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but the scorn only lasted a brief moment until she broke eye contact to stifle a yawn.
His lip twitched.
“What would you usually be doing on summer’s evening?” Mary asked, warming her hands around the cup.
Theo came up short.
Mary frowned at his lack of answer.
He’d spent every day since the return from Hogwarts plotting, putting plans in place. His typical summer was spent avoiding the first two floors of his castle and retreating to Malfoy Manor at every available opportunity, something he’d not been able to do the previous year.
With a final glance at the moonlit hillside through the window Theo smirked at her, “have you ever been to Italy?”
Mary looked away from him, shaking her head, “I’ve never been abroad,” then she frowned, “well I’ve been to Wales, I suppose that counts,”
His smirk softened, “they’d say it certainly counts,” he offered.
She nodded firmly, “it was lovely, we saw Snowdon,”
“You did?” he prompted, “what was it like?”
Mary shrugged one shoulder, “cloudy,”
He made an agreeable noise, not really surprised, “walk up it?”
She shook her head, “didn’t have time, we were visiting my great aunt,” she looked over him carefully, “so, Italy?”
“Italy,” Theo smiled, “Blaise grew up there, he, erm- well his mum inherited a vineyard there, and we tried our hardest to drink it,”
Mary rolled her eyes, a little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, “inherited,” she teased, “do butlers follow five paces behind you ready to top you up,”
He sneered at her playfully, hands wrapping around his cup as he looked at her, eyes swimming with mirth. He was thankful he’d never have to tell her about house elves.
“They do,” she gasped.
Theo shook his head, pressing his lips together to stop a grin, “no,” he levelled.
Mary gave him a dubious look.
“His mother doesn’t trust the help,”
More witnesses, he presumed.
She scoffed, “of course not,” she dismissed haughtily, then a frown spread over her amused eyes, “but who cut your vegetables for you?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.
Theo fought a laugh valiantly, looking fiercely into his steaming tea.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke then, “I shouldn’t be teasing you, considering your brooding,” she waved in the direction of the front door.
His thumb tapped the mug a few times before he looked up at her, “your interrogation techniques are admirable,” he praised dryly, “did you snore to lower my guard?”
The answering look from Mary was the opposite of amused.
“Your back must’ve hurt…”
“Do you want to massage it?”
“I-“ she scowled at him, the faintest pink spreading over her cheeks.
“My father,” he started, “was imprisoned,”
She nodded like she knew that. Perhaps it’d been essential for her mother to tell her.
Her eyes asked the question she was too polite to speak.
But how do you explain breaking into the ministry of magic with half a dozen serial killers, conspiring to steal a one-of-a-kind prophesy, attacking school children, all whilst being in lifelong servitude to a genocidal bogeyman, to a seventeen-year-old muggle?
He narrowed his eyes and gave her a self-deprecating shrug, “organised crime,”
Mary opened her mouth, then closed it again, staring at him for a long moment before she finally spoke, “my mother is hiding you from the mafia,” she clarified quietly.
Don’t laugh.
Theo nodded seriously.
They lapsed into silence for a moment before she pulled her eyes away from her mug and gave him a curious look, “and what if you go back?”
He considered that, not sure how to vocalise the horror that awaited him, “there would be,” he scrambled for the right word, “expectations,”
She looked over at him with a strangely knowing gaze, “like curb stomping people? Shooting kneecaps?”
Theo’s eyebrows pulled together involuntarily.
Mary’s expression turned incredulous, “was your father the accountant?”
That was highly unlikely.
Theo’s hands tightened around his mug.
Mary lifted her cup to her lips, “mum says you’ve been overfeeding the ducks,” she announced offhandedly, then added, rather fiercely, “you’d make a shit accountant.”
Theo had to avert his eyes.