Closer | A Theo Nott Enemies to Lovers Story

MY EYES

I have not the slightest understanding of why Theo's family would want to go after me. Well there was that one dinner but his dad seemed fine when I came to the manor! Whenever I think about it too hard my head starts to hurt so I try not to, it's so hard to not.

Every time I try to bring it up to Theo he either shuts me down, changes the subject, or tries to do other things. Also because of our little rendezvous we are not allowed to be at the same table in potions. Theo got sat with a bunch of Hufflepuff's. His face whenever they talk to him or he has to pair up with one of them never fails to get a laugh from me and the other boys.

Today I decided I wanted to ask Dumbledore if he knew who my grandfather was or is. All I know from what my mother briefly told me in a letter she sent a few weeks ago was that he went to Hogwarts and Dumbledore will sure be able to find out who he is.

Thankfully I caught Dumbledore just before the door closed to his office.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

I called out for him.

"Amalia, how are we?"

Terrible.

"Just peachy sir."

Mustering up a forced smile.

"What can I do for you?"

He asked, gesturing me into his office with his arm.

"Thank you sir, I have a few questions if you don't mind answering them."

Sitting across from me, he tilted his head at me curiously, nodding with anticipation. Drawing a breath I realized I don't even know what to say. I know absolutely nothing about my grandfather, not even his age or if he is alive, just that he went to Hogwarts at some time. Hell, maybe if I knew my birth parents last names I could pull something out of that but, no.

"Amalia?"

Dumbledore lowly spoke, peering at my eyes with a sense of worry riddled within his.

"Yes, right, sorry. I just don't really know how to say this, erm, well, do you know who my grandfather is?"

His eyes widened for just a moment, if I wasn't paying attention, I wouldn't have noticed.

"Your grandfather,"

He twirled a piece of his beard between his fingers, staring off beyond me, when his hand dropped. Pushing his chair from beneath him, he marched towards a cabinet beside his desk. Frantically, he picked up small bottles that appeared to be memories, checking them quickly then muttering something under his breath before repeating that process until he found whatever he was looking for.

A small bowl floated to the middle of the room, where he added the memory into it. The silver string swirled around the bowl, he insisted I go first, falling into a memory I was not sure of.

There I was, somewhere, it was not Hogwarts, but it was a school. I was in the it was a dark classroom, there were students jotting down notes with a professor instructing them. I have never seen him before, how old is this memory? Was my grandfather this old?

So cold, why was it so cold. The walls seemed to radiate a compelling feeling, it felt good, it felt powerful, it felt right. I approached the wall, brushing my hand across the cold brick, that's when I realized that the energy was everywhere, not just the walls, in the students too.

That's when it hit me, they are all wearing red cloaks, this is Durmstrang. Why would Dumbledore show me a memory of a completely different school, my grandfather went to Hogwarts.

A boy with a golden comb over raised his hand. I couldn't see his face since I was at the back of the classroom. There was another boy beside him, smacking his arm, apologizing profusely, begging the other boy to not tell.