Chapter 6
“I’m going doing a big shop, are you coming Mary?” Carmen asked from in front of the ‘fridge’, notepad in hand.
Mary huffed from her seat at the dining table. There were three open textbooks in front of her, two notebooks, various scraps of paper and a mug filled with colourful ‘pens’.
“Is that a no, missus?”
She blinked a few times then looked over at her mother, “I think I need to stay here, sorry, I know I shouldn’t have left it,”
Theo was all too familiar with leaving summer homework till the last possible moment. Now the last day in august, Mary was frantically working through six weeks of assignments.
Carmen smiled tight lipped at her daughter for a long moment, then she looked past Mary to Theo, who had settled with a history book on the window seat, “you’re coming then,” she announced, shutting the fridge door.
Theo stared blankly at her in return.
He hadn’t actually left the safety of Carmen’s property yet. Nor had he wanted to.
Sometime around the two-week mark Theo had begun to draw comfort from the rolling hills surrounding the small valley.
He couldn’t convince himself that he would ever be safe, not when he lack of appearance the following day would reveal his allegiances.
Despite that, he’d begun to feel comfortable.
Not safe, but almost peaceful.
Mary dragged her attention from the messy dining table to him. She seemed too visibly frustrated to offer proper encouragement, instead managing something close to a grimace.
He mimicked her expression, lips twitching into a smirk.
She huffed again, redirecting her attention to the textbooks.
Theo shoved a borrowed bookmark between the pages and left the book behind him on the seat as he stood to help Carmen.
“I’m sure the mafia shop at Waitrose, not Tesco,” Mary called after him softly. When Theo looked back at her, there was a teasing note to her expression that disappeared the moment Carmen tutted disapprovingly.
He looked over his shoulder at Carmen finishing up the shopping lists and walked back towards Mary. Standing behind her and leaning over to reach for the closest textbook.
Her breath caught, but Theo ignored it, flipping to the last few pages.
Mary’s protestations about him losing her page were caught in her throat as he pointed to the glossary.
“You’re wasting your time reading the whole bloody book,”
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed a sweet pink and mumbled a “thanks”.
Theo nodded, standing to his full height, and wandering over to the kitchen island, “need me to do anything?”
Carmen shook her head, “go put your shoes on, meet me in the car,”
Ah.
The car.
Swallowing a response, Theo quietly walked to the coat room and swapped his slippers for shoes. On his way out, he grabbed a light jacket for the unpredictable weather and left silently out of the front door. Carmen followed, gathering her handbag, and shouting back to remind Mary to check on the casserole simmering on the stove top.
Theo had actually been in a car.
Once.
The Ministry had a small fleet of sleek, black cars. Theo had been transported from Malfoy Manor to Kings Cross station at the start of their third year.
He had white knuckled the whole experience. Despite the fact he liked Lucius Malfoy a hell of a lot more than his own father, appearing uncomfortable from the movement of the car, the speed or the proximately to others on the road was a sign of weakness. And Theo couldn’t afford to appear weak in front of a friend of his father.
Draco didn’t like it either, judging by his uncharacteristic quietness through the whole trip.
Those cars were luxury, and once they’d left the manicured grounds of Malfoy Manor, the roads were flat.
He eyed Carmen’s boxy blue vehicle. It was higher up, with a white roof and brown leather seats. It was well used, but perfectly solid. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to the winding road over the valley and the mystery that lay ahead.
Behind Carmen’s vehicle, the burgundy one owned by Mary seemed a little more inviting. They were the same shape, but the surface of Mary’s was polished and shiny. The metal in the centre of the wheels barely splattered with mud. Though he had noticed how she set time aside at least once a week to wash it, using a small ladder to shine from top to bottom.
Theo walked to the side of Carmen’s car and fumbled with the odd door handle.
“Other side mister, unless they give out driving lessons at your fancy school,” Carmen walked behind him, patting his waist to encourage him to move out of the way.
He looked between the driver’s seat and Carmen, politely stepping out of the way and holding the door open for her.
Her expression softened into a fond smile, and she patted him again before climbing into the driver’s seat.
Once she was situated, Theo shut the door and walked slowly around the back of the vehicle taking in the valley like he’d never return.
His left hand went to his right wrist, wishing for the comfort of his wand holster.
Stomach churning with nerves, he opened the door on the opposite side and climbed in.
Carmen turned on the engine, the seat rumbling beneath him, and switched the radio to a low volume.
“Seat belt,” she prompted. Reaching to her right and pulling the belt across herself, buckling it next to her hip. Theo watched her, then mimicked her actions slowly. Unsettled at being strapped in.
Then, without any preamble, Carmen started moving the car. Though instead of forward, it moved backwards.
His hand furthest from Carmen went straight to the edge of the seat, gripping it tightly.
The tenseness lasted till they hit the summit of the hill.
Theo’s month at the farm had narrowed his focus. The outside world a distant source of anxiety.
But when they reached the edge of his bubble, Theo had to clench his jaw to prevent an inelegant noise slipping out.
They were high up, as he’d presumed. Rolling hills spread out as far as the eye could see, a sea of green, and in the distance, tracking the road, he could see grey rooftops poking from between lush treetops.
“I love living here,” Carmen spoke quietly, looking over at him.
Theo dragged his attention from the view to her. Gratitude welled deeply in his chest, so much that he struggled to vocalise a response.
He wasn’t deserving of this woman giving him a second change, a home.
“I’m glad you’re here, we’re going to stop for coal and usually the bloke at the merchants asks for my phone number in return for him lifting it into the boot,”
Theo took great pride in heaving all ten bags of coal into the back of Carmen’s car. The sour look on the gruff coal man’s face as Carmen chatted beside him was unbeatable.
He’d never be able to pay her back for all her hospitality, but he could certainly try.
“Never knew you and Thompson had a son,” the bloke grunted as Theo lifted the last bag.
A similar sort of yearning to what he’d experienced in the Weasley kitchen roared at those words.
Carmen chuckled warmly, “I’d be proud of raising such a gentleman,” she spoke softly, “Theo’s a friend of Mary’s, helping us out with some heavy lifting on the farm,”
The man looked over him critically.
Theo wouldn’t admit to flexing his biceps, even upon the threat of life.
“Here you go,” Carmen handed over the cash, “thanks Ste, we can cross this off the list,”
The man huffed dismissively, pocketing the money.
Theo nodded a brief goodbye and returned to his seat, remembering to belt himself in.
Four stops later, the ‘supermarket’ was a different kettle of fish.
He’d followed hesitantly behind Carmen, holding the shopping bags, then taking control of the metal ‘trolley’ when prompted by her.
First of all, the doors opened by themselves, as did the second set. Then his eyes were assaulted with violently bright lights. Theo squinted at the strips of uncomfortably glowing light. His eyes straining to focus on the weird buzz surrounding each strip. Plus, it was loud. A chorus of repetitive beeps, raucous children, and the regular hum of busy life.
Carmen was watching him with barely concealed concern as he gripped the trolley handle tightly. She pressed her lips together and passed over her notepad, swapping it for the trolley, “fruit and veg is first, tell me what I’ve put, if you see anything you can grab it,”
He focused on her instructions, glancing across the wide selection.
The whole ordeal lasted less than an hour.
Theo reading off items using the signs above each aisle for guidance.
Carmen paused on the final aisle, dozens of different types of wine spread a whole wall, “you’re seventeen?”
He nodded cautiously.
“When’s your birthday?”
He smiled at her almost shyly, “seventeenth of September,”
Just over two weeks away.
An unreadable expression crossed Carmen’s face before she covered it up, “what’s your poison?”
He glanced across the shelves, then shrugged, “I’m not fussy,”
Carmen perused the shelves for a while, adding multicoloured bottles to the full trolley, after dropping the last one she glanced up at Theo, “we’re stocking up, these will last till after Christmas,” she explained, “just good to have in the cupboard, you know, just in case,” she smiled softly.
“My ancestors would probably say you’re underutilising your cellar,” he half-joked, wanting to reassure her. The wine cellar at Nott Castle was more of a hoard if he was being completely honest.
She gave him an amused glance, “I think that’s everything,” she looked over the trolley, “have we missed something?”
Theo read through the list once more, “no.”
Carmen hummed pleasantly, “off we go then,” she prompted, “we’ll pack the car and get a brew from downstairs,”
Theo re-took control of the trolley directing them to the tills.
Deep set relief settled into his muscles as they summited the road into Carmen’s valley. He looked over the small farmhouse with a strange fondness.
He was stuck there, certainly. But the whole experience had been life changing. And, of course, much better than the alternatives.
Once he’d carried to bags into the kitchen and moved the coal into a wheelbarrow which he then relocated to the shed, Carmen dismissed him from his duties.
With a single glance at Mary, who now sat with two closed textbooks, Theo nodded at Carmen and retreated to his bedroom.
The soft light in his room was a welcome relief. Tired from ticking off a handful of new experiences, Theo shrugged off his clothes and climbed into the cool covers.
The tension from the day bled out of his muscles slowly, starting in his limbs and spreading finally into his back.
He readjusted is position slowly, letting himself relax further.
Carmen and Mary’s voices were muffled, but a welcome armour from the silence.
They had been no further news from Andromeda, no calls, certainly no visits.
So, for three weeks, in the quiet moments, Theo’s imagination had run wild.
Were they rounding up blood traitors yet? Had his female friends been lined up for traditional marriages?
Ted had run away, were all the muggleborns on the run? Hiding from persecution.
And Draco, had he been marked yet? Was he retreating to the backs of his own mind whilst his body committed unthinkable atrocities?
Theo had always had an overactive imagination. A side effect of being a lonely child in a very big house.
But he’d began making himself sick with worry.
He found himself noticing his heartbeat running rampant even whilst he leisurely played with the dog or grew lightheaded with anxiety whilst completing menial chores.
It wasn’t helping anyone.
He focused on the low voices, imagining Carmen teasing Mary, or reading through her homework with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
His stomach stirred and Theo tossed onto his side, burying a hand under his pillow.
He was exhausted enough that finding sleep wasn’t too difficult, but it felt like no time hand passed before he startled awake.
Theo lay flat on his back taking stock of his body, then listened out carefully.
Downstairs Mary and Carmen still chatted, joined by the low hum of the television. Outside the chickens and ducks made odd noises, but nothing that would’ve woken him.
The stared at the textured attempting to decipher whether he’d already forgotten a bad dream, choked on his own spit, or something as equally inelegant.
Then his head snapped to the window as Theo heard a quiet hoot.
His eyes narrowed.
It was another minute or two until he heard a second, louder hoot.
He pushed the covers off immediately, lightly stomping across the soft carpet.
There was nothing amiss when he looked out of the window, eyes darting across every inch of the view, but Theo wasn’t fooled.
He flicked the window latch and pushed the glass as far out as it’d go, then returned to sitting on his bed.
Another ten minutes passed before the wretched owl announced her appearance, wings tucked to her sides as she landed on the windowsill and walked, talons tapping, across the windowsill and jumped to his drawers, puffing her chest proudly, likely because she’d found him.
“Robin,” he chastised, “you’re not supposed to be here,”
Unimpressed at his cold greeting, she wiggled her ear tufts in response.
Struggling to reign in a smile, Theo stood and walked over to his owl, reaching out stroke her feathers with his knuckle.
She was a long-earned owl, mostly brown but tawny with grey and black streaks, smaller than many of his classmates’. But fast, reliable, and quite the personality.
She reached over to nibble him gently.
“Muggles don’t have owl treats,” he murmured quietly to her, still stroking her feathers, “go nick some of the chicken feed,”
Theo was given a dismissive whistle at that. It was his fault really; she’d been fed high quality treats and varying rodents often procured by Theo.
She was spoiled and likely unhappy about fending for herself.
He shushed her quietly, “I’m very happy to see you, but you can't stay with me,”
Her large orange eyes regarded him cooly.
He was certain she understood him, just as she’d understood every other command he’d given her.
“Muggles don’t have pet owls,”
She nipped his finger for that.
Theo clenched his jaw and continued stroking her feathers even if his knuckle was now bleeding, “unless you can transfigure yourself into a chicken, you’re going to need to go home,”
The owl made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cluck.
Theo’s lip twitched involuntarily.
“Tea’s ready,” Carmen called from downstairs.
Theo looked over at the door then back to his little friend, “you’ll be safe at home, please don’t go to Hogwarts and certainly don’t visit Draco,”
She huffed.
Robin has taken quite the liking to Draco’s Eagle Owl.
“You’ll have the run of the place,” he encouraged softly, “bet you can catch more mice than those lazy cats,” he murmured to her, tears suspiciously threatening in the corners of his eyes, “you can have a gap year, find a boyfriend-“
She let out a noise loud enough that Theo’s heart stopped, and he stalled, listening out for footsteps, when none came, he begun stroking her feathers again, “girlfriend, got it,” he mumbled to himself, “off you go,” he instructed more firmly, voice nearly cracking.
She nibbled gently at his finger again, and Theo had an uncomfortable tightness in his throat as he watched her funny little walk across to the windowsill.
He averted his eyes when she took off, closing the window after a moment had passed and took a second to collect himself.
Friend was an apt moniker for his owl.
She’d only really ‘worked’ in the last two years.
Theodore Nott didn’t receive letters, certainly not at school. That was something she’d picked up on.
He didn’t receive long rolls of parchment for a loving parent, nothing from more distant family and the idea of him being sent a sweet basket was outrageous.
His owl though, twigged onto her lack of owly duties quite quickly, and perhaps in her boredom, began fetching him things.
Feathers, rocks, odd coins, and over time, maybe due to the treats she received with each delivery, started bringing more elaborate gifts.
Quills, galleons, lost jewellery.
Like a raven.
It wasn’t until his third year that she’d been nicknamed Robin.
His estate wasn’t too far from Sherwood Forest and whilst Theo was exceedingly rich, he wasn’t rich in affection.
Her little gestures meant a lot, sending her away was a lot harder than he’d imagined.
Theo rubbed his face harshly, glancing once more out at the window and pulled back on his clothes from earlier, retreating downstairs for some company.