Regency in Diagon Alley [Theodore Nott | Harry Potter AU]

Chapter Sixteen

"I believe congratulations are in order," Roman said as he came in the study with stacks of papers for Theodore to sign, where the young duke was cradling a glass of whiskey while not bothering to wear a shirt after his bath.

Slouched on his seat, Theodore pressed the glass on his forehead as he tried to aid the headache that has been bothering him since he was put at the center of the Wizengamot meeting. It took everything for him to defend himself in the trial, the intense focus he needed to put so he would not show the feeling of his eyes about to bulge out of its sockets, or the throbbing pain of his brain. The pain only worsens when he met Carina's gaze. His headache was the reason of his quick departure from the Ministry, why he only managed to give a barely nod when Lords and Ladies congratulated him for his success. Why he was not able to meet Carina's way.

Thankfully, Roman was there to wait for him at the Atrium, and as soon they were out of sight, Theodore collapsed in Roman's arms. The latter had to swing the duke's arm over his shoulder and drag him to the barriers where they could apparate home, even when the act of doing so would worsen Theodore's headache. Upon reaching Nott Manor, Roman had Minty draw a bath for Theodore. A cold one, since the duke was burning up for some reason.

Fatigue was reason, Minty said to him. It was obvious why, Theodore has not stopped working until the Wizengamot meeting, and now that he has finally finished his task, his body finally lets go.

After the Duke's long, cold bath, Theodore burst into the study wearing only his trousers and shoes while holding a glass of whiskey and ignored Alcander who has been trying to push his master to the bedroom and rest. Even Roman's warning of him to rest fell deaf ear as Theodore settled on his seat, drinking a glass whiskey – even magically calling forth the entire bottle from the cellar – and began his work.

"Not yet," Theodore grumbled and then sighed when he saw the stack of papers he needed to attend to. "But thank you. I couldn't have done this without you, Roman."

Roman circled the table and sat at the leather seat across from him. His leg perched on the armrest, and with a wave of a wand, summoned a glass of whiskey for himself. "I was just the messenger."

"You're more than that," Theodore leaned forward and clinked his glass with Roman's.

Roman chuckled and took a sip of his whiskey. His eyes trailed to Theodore's toned body that were covered in scars and burns from the dragons and other magical creatures he faced in the Norwegian Reserve, and the tattoo on his left pec where a tattoo Nordic Dragon was found. Curtesy of the Kholers, it was a sign of loyalty between the two families. It was a tattoo that was shared between the main family, and Theodore was considered as one of them when he stayed in Norway when he left to travel.

"If this is your way of thanking me, I am eternally grateful," Roman teased. "I have to say, for a duke, you have a body of a Greek athlete."

Theodore snorted. "You're welcome, then."

"Still not as good as mine."

"You could have stopped there, Alston." Theodore drowned his drink. "Now that the grueling part is over... it is time for the next step. Who are the lords and ladies whose debts we paid?"

"There's a list of them." Roman shrugged.

"Was Avery one of them? Macmillan, Carrow?"

"Avery, yes."

"Start withdrawing those payments from the den, but subtly – with interests. We can't let them think that we have done so, or else Avery would accuse me of bribery in the next meeting."

"Which you did."

"It's business, Roman. See it as... the estate making its own money. I'm sure you could talk the dealers at the gambling dens about it."