Duplicitous | T.N.

XXV • Selfish Hatred

When Theo was born she quietened for his sake, though there were still situations she found herself harmed before Theo's youthful gaze.

"You shall be ready." She corrected, eyes failing to leave from her plate before her. She swallowed thickly at her spouses gaze, despite her mouth being absent of any food.

"We." The man spat. Grasping his wife's wrist in a deadly grip. Theodore, who sat across his mother, gasped when he saw her fingers go limp at the pressure. "That includes you Theodore." He turned his gaze to his son with a sickly grin.

His mother panicked. "He is a child." She attempted to steal the spotlight from her son and take any punishments instead.

"He is my son." He yelled. "My blood. Nott blood." He turned back to his five year old. "You, my boy, will make the dark lord proud by time of his return, and you shall have the honour to wear his symbol also." He released his wife to show off his dark mark.

The skin which was marked with ink moved in a circle like motion as though the tattoo was alive. He nearly vomited right there.

"Shouldn't I have a say in that also?" The woman tried.

"You have no say." He spat back. Gripping her by her curled locks. Forcing her head towards his. Raising her delicate chin he placed a chastised kiss on her lips. Her face shrivelled into a look of disgust.

He let go of her hair and she leaned back immediately. Eyes trained on the table before her.

Theo's eyes swelled with tears, he knew better than to allow for any to release. It didn't stop the chocked sob that broke through, even if his lips were clamped shut.

He was unlucky. His father heard the cry.

Slowly, jaw clenched, face red with rage, the man turned his head to face the look of horror Theodore portrayed.

"What was that?" He sneered.

Theodore couldn't respond.

"Answer me boy!" He yelled a fiery roar. Slamming his palm on the surface of the table, cutlery tapped against each other and fruit rolled.

He was about to shake his head, he was stopped when he felt a foot entangle with his own beneath the table. Turning to look at his mother she offered him a comforting glance. Nodding once, he spoke.

"I coughed father." His voice was monotone, he knew not to express emotion in front of his father. Even at five he never did.

The wizard took a large sip of his scotch, swallowing the remaining beverage in the cup. He sighed loudly before rising from the table.

He walked behind Theo and grasped the boy by his shoulders. Theodore sat still, he held his breath and didn't dare make it obvious he was shaking with fear.

He nearly sobbed again when he felt his father squeeze. "I don't appreciate fibbers in my household Theodore." He pressed harder. "A trait you get from your mother. Meet me in my office tonight Alessia." His voice was no longer dark but somewhat amused.

He let go of Theo and turned to make his way through the dining hall, to were Theodore assumed was his bedroom.

He watched as his mothers eyes clamped shut in a pained expression.