Miracles don't exist || Theodore Nott

Chapter 11: Home not so sweet home

When you enter your bedroom, Draco is already sitting on your bed, an anxious look on his face. "Is it really him?", he asks in a whisper and you nod.

You go sit down next to your cousin. The two of you sit in silence for a while, until Draco opens his mouth. "How is he?"

"Terrifying", you admit. "You feel his power when you are in the room with him."

"Mother says he can read minds."

You look at him with wide eyes. That can't be true... right? It means that even our thoughts aren't safe.

"Well... Then we have to watch out for what we think."

Draco nods and you sit in silence once again. You lean over and lay your head on his shoulder. Draco has never been a big fan of being touched — it may come from being barely touched as a child by his parents — but for you, he makes an exception.

"Everything is going to change from now on, isn't it?"

He hums sadly. "I'm afraid so."

You spend the rest of the day cooped up in your room, unpacking your school trunk and dusting your room. Even though Aunt Cissy makes the house elves clean your room regularly, it's always nice to do a once-over.

Around dinner time is a knock on your door and you're being called to dinner. Nervously, you make your way towards the formal dining room. It's tradition to eat there when you and Draco have returned from your year at Hogwarts.

Entering the room, you see your aunt and uncle — both looking rather unwell — and your cousin sitting at one end of the table and Voldemort sitting at the head on the other side.

"My Lord", you greet your father with a polite nod. Unsure of where to sit, you move to sit next to Draco. But the chair next to Voldemort gets pushed back by magic and you get the hint.

With uncertain steps, you go and sit to him. Draco and you make eye contact but remain silent.

The majority of dinner is spent in silence. You do not dare to speak out loud and it seems like the Dark Lord likes the tense silence his presence brings. It's only when the desert is brought that he speaks.

"It seems you are very popular at school, my Heir. Not a full day at home and you already received a letter." Voldemort holds up a wax-sealed envelope.

He watches how you take it and break the seal. Unfolding the envelope, you start to read. It's a rather short letter really.

Do you want to hang out sometime? It's what friends do, you know. We could meet up in two weeks. That's just enough time to miss me.

— Theo

You close your eyes. Stupid stupid boy Theodore Nott. You've hoped to keep him safe from your father a while longer, at least until the end of the summer break or Christmas or whatever. But as Voldemort snatches the letter out of your hands and reads it over, one of his non-existent eyebrows arches up.

"Theo? Who is this Theo?"

You look down at the pie in front of you. "Theodore Nott, my Lord. We've ehrm... We've-" You look for help from your aunt, but her gaze is trained on the table. "We've been introduced last summer and started hanging out this year."

Voldemort looks over at your uncle. "Is this true, Lucius?" The name of your uncle is almost a hiss.

Uncle Lucius gulps before shakily raising his gaze. "Ye-yes, my Lord. We thought the you-young Nott boy would be an excellent match... f-for your daughter... my Lord."

Voldemort hums, dropping the letter next to your plate. "Very well." And nothing more is said about Theodore or the rest of the dinner.

Once you are excused, you rush towards your bedroom to write Theo back. But when you swing open your door, you almost shriek.

A three-metre snake lays on your bed, eyes trained on you. You've heard whisper all day long, but you just chalked it up to Voldemort residing in the manor.

Carefully stepping into the room, you know exactly who this is. Clearing your throat, you open your mouth. "Hello, Nagini", you say in the strange whispers and hisses of Parsletongue.

"Hello, my Heir", the snake hisses softly, sliding off your bed. She slithers out of your room. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of her smooth scales gliding against your ankle.

Sitting down at your desk, you pull out a piece of paper and start to write to Theo.

Sure, we can do that. Do you have something in mind or do you just want to walk around and see what happens? I'm down for whatever.

I suggest we meet up on Tuesday in two weeks. If that's alright with you.

— (Y/n)