It was by six am that the London sun began to rise, prying apart the greyed clouds and Auroras clenched eyelids. Disturbed from her deep slumber, she was greeted by her blissful moment. Quickly replaced was the tranquility of a lazy morning by the realisation of where she was.
The covers were quickly thrown off her shivery figure. Dressed in her pyjamas, the girl had no care in the world as she raced down the windy stairs of her eldest brothers rented home.
The gentle slaps of her bare feet followed her as she ran, and with a swing she flung around the railing and toward the kitchen. Her direction navigated through the tasty scent of pancakes.
She skipped through the doorway and into the small room, her brother facing away from her, pan held tightly in his grasp. "Mornin." She plucked an apple from the fruit bowl.
"Hmm." Sebastian grunted in acknowledgment, the particular morning air not working well with his hair or his attitude. He was fairly moody during the early mornings. Aurora had to obtain her laughter at the sight of his usually well kept sandy hair in the mornings.
He flipped the flat cake, a melodise sizzle sounding as he did so. She yawned loudly, her arms stretching outward. Taking a chomp of the apple she held, her chewing ceased to quieten. "Hey!" Her brother turned around. "What're you doing? I'm literally making breakfast." The movement of her jaw came to a slow as her mouth opened in realisation. "Ew." He turned his head around. "Don't let me see what you're eating."
The second brother walked in, a line of caramel chocolate between his teeth. "Huh?" Malachai spoke a string of brown seeping down his bottom lip.
"You're both disgusting." The eldest refused to look at them any longer, their nasty food habits apparently too disgusting to tolerate. "And stop earing, I'm making breakfast."
Lost amongst the honeymoon period of a newly reunited family, all remained blissfully happy. Eloped within their siblings presence, rivalry had been kept to a fair minimum, far too keen on spending time with one another.
Kai sat beside his sister, by the kitchen island. The counter a dark smooth surface where their elbows rested comfortably upon. Comfortable in their little suburban paradise, the house, quaint, and made of grey brick offered minimal natural lighting, Rory felt close to sleeping again as the sun was unable to reach her where she sat next to Malachi.
"Nuh uh." The dark haired brother pushed her side. She bolted upward, simply to catch herself from falling sideward off her chair. "Don't even think about going back to sleep." She ignored him, resting her head back down upon the table. He shoved her again.
"Knock it off." She whined; her head in her hands.
"Don't sleep." Sebastian flipped the final pancake, adding it to the pile next to him, noticeably out of his younger siblings grimy reach. "We have things to do."
The middle child pushed his sister again. She pushed him back just as hard. "Stop."
"Stop." Sebastian was hardly bothered to break up his siblings silly banter, hardly serious anyway. "Now eat." Came his morning drawl.
Rory remained still, awaiting either of her siblings to steal the first pancake. Everyone knew the first one was always the worst. Her brothers seemingly uninterested in snatching the first one, too did not bother to grab the pancake first. Aurora slid the one underneath it out and flopped it on her plate gleefully. "Cheat." She began smiling faintly as she heard the accusative murmur from whichever brother.
They ate to the sound of clattered cutlery and occasional comments, not much said as they divulged in their breakfast treat. Seb was an exceptional cook, her eyes found her other brothers menacingly, he was not so much of a kitchen worker. "Why can't you cook?"
"I just don't." He didn't bother to glance at her, his fingers digging in the almost empty jam jar and scraping off whatever he could, apparently deciding to abandon his knife for his scavenge for food. She watched flinchingly as he placed a jam coated finger in his mouth.
"You really shouldn't, I mean look at how filthy you are." The youngest complained, her hands spotless as she easily placed a piece of solidified batter in her mouth; relieving her fork of the weight. The boy flicked a glob of butter, it slapped her shoulder. "What was that for?" She offered an unimpressed glance.
"Look at how filthy you are." He mimicked. Both her brothers laughed. Their smiles dimming as they watched their baby sister collect the smeared butter off herself with an unused serviette, there was a time she'd have thrown a pancake slap bang for his face. They'd missed a tremendous amount of her growth, regretful that they had, they were quick to initiate conversation.
"So, Rora." Sebastian began. "How're your friends?" His eyes shut as he processed what he'd just asked. The topic of Harry Potter was sure to come up from there. And as much as Rory's brothers appreciated any and all of her friends, they hadn't yet exactly spoken of the upcoming Wizarding war.
"Yeah." She nodded somewhat shyly. "They're good." Her fork fiddled with the food before her. "Uhm. You remember Ron, yeah?"
"The red head kid?" Malachai questioned. She nodded. "The younger one, not a twin?"
"Yeah." She swallowed a bite. "He and Hermione, the really intelligent witch, the both of them who're real close with Harry, had a fallout." She stole another bite. "It's really sad to witness actually." She poked her inner cheek with the top of her tongue unsure if she should direct the conversation to such a grim topic that was Harry Potter. "Harry's not doing too great." Her words rung through the dimmed air, enough for them each to taste unceremoniously.
"About that." Sebastian paused. "The upcoming war has everyone on edge. You know who's back, and there's a disappearance a day." The eldest brother cleared his throat. "We think it'd be best if you left Europe."
She froze, the circulation of her pumping blood running ice cold with her stance. "And what of you?" She spoke, calmly.
Her brothers now halted, having not expected the tranquility of her tone and lack of immediate denial of their request. "Uh, Dumbledore wrote us a letter, he'd like if we'd join the 'order of the phoenix', I think that's what it's called." The brothers shared a glance. "We weren't exactly enthralled when we heard that you were apart of it."
"And why not?"
"Because you're seventeen." Malachi spoke quietly.
"I'm of age."
"You're our baby sister." The middle child's peaceful tone abandoned as he spoke in a hiss.
"It's your choice Rora." Sebastian rubbed his hands together uncomfortably. "We can't make that decision for you but we can ask that you find a safe haven." They awaited eagerly for her reply.
And despite how desperately she didn't wish to, she considered it, the possibility of sanctuary. The guaranteed safety, the lack of responsibility, the peace. She would not take it. With such safety would come the constant worry and hopelessness, fearing the mere safety of her brothers, her friends, Theodore. She wouldn't be able to handle the ache.
From the very moment she agreed to join the DA last year she knew she had directly involved herself within the battle. She could not step back, despite how the fear of death swayed her to do so. She shook her head no. "No. No, I couldn't."
"Why not?" The middle child's fists slammed the table. "Aurora we are helping you!" He used her first name as he stood straight up, his plate and food long neglected.
"And I don't want your help!" She too stood, chest heaving. There again, they saw it, the undeniable burn of her eye, the gleam that seemed if given the appropriate reason would birth a ferocious flame. "I've done just fine this past year." Low blow, she knew this.
Of all she had predicted of this conversation, the outcomes she had considered, she did not expect her middle brother to round the table and hug her tightly. Stunned silent, he did not offer a peep of noise, instead, a single stray tear fell down his tensed cheek.
Sebastian too seemed as if a bead of salt was close from escaping through his barred bottom lashes. He did not allow this to occur, so, he clenched his eyes and fist shut. "Rory." He exhaled heavily. "It's okay." He nodded. "It's uhm... It's okay."
And they left it at that.
• • •
The sudden twist of their casual Sunday morning was quickly neglected, and despite their choice to abandon the topic and forget it had happened, a sharp tinge invaded their sibling dynamic. The atmosphere that clouded them had formed a dull colour and an uncomfortable hue.
Christmas neared and they continued to feign a completely comfortable environment, even if it wasn't necessarily such. That was the thing with siblings they guessed, it was easy. All three of them were fearful, and unsure how they could help each other but there was the simple understanding that they had one another and that was enough for them.
"Oh Merlin." Malachi groaned his head flung backward. "More shopping?"
"I need to get my friends a Christmas present." She huffed roaming through the once lively streets of Diagon Alley. It was a ghost town then, the stores empty the streets vacant, Fred and George's joke shop the one last store blazing with character.
"How. many. friends. need. a. present?" Malachai spoke between heaves of struggled breath. He was being dramatic.
"Just a few more." She stopped walking, her eyes caught inside a familiar Quidditch shop and the alley way beside it. She smiled fondly, that place held special memories... from a year ago? Her eyes widened, so long she pondered.
The three siblings approached Weasley Wizard Weezes, the once howl of soft wind replaced by the bustling chatter of a full store. She recognised the fair majority of people in there, most having attended Hogwarts.
The girl laughed at the sight of her all stoic brothers stood amongst all that colour and creativity. They looked almost uncomfortable, she found it increasingly amusing. "Wow." She shook her head and walked along, her brothers behind her.
Having found the perfect present for Ginny, the last name on her list, she was glad to draw a satisfying cross through, the girl wondered toward the counter, her brothers stood an aisle away, their attention stolen by the Pygmy Puffs.
"Theodore's been ignoring my letters." Aurora heard the faint murmur of Felicity Bullstrode. The Gryffindor witch falling to an abrupt falter, her stomach quenching uncomfortably.
"Why bother." The Slytherin girls friend, who Aurora did not know, spoke reassuringly. "You know what he's like."
"Not with me." The girl sighed. "We always had some sort of mutual agreement you know." Rory couldn't help but flinch. "You know what." The Bullstrode girl broke the silence between herself and her friend. "I'll see him at the upcoming Christmas Party the Malfoy's are hosting."
"Didn't he say no last Christmas?" Her friend placed a hand upon her hip.
"He did." She smiled. "But the train ride back to Hogwarts was lots of fun." The two giggled their hands interlocked as they divulged in their gossip. It was not Auroras place to be jealous. She couldn't help it. "You know if I'm being honest, I've developed a bit of a crush on him."
"You think?" Her blonde peer sighed. "I wouldn't even bother if I were you, what about Andy?"
"What about him?" Felicity tilted her head. "I love Andy, just not that way. Theo, however..." Aurora called him Theo. "He's staying with the Malfoy's you know, I bet I could sneak up into his room and... perhaps await him a little... clothe-less." She laughed at her own idea. Her friend too chuckling, slightly unimpressed.
"I don't mean to eavesdrop." Aurora spoke before she thought, her own stupidity occurring moments later. "But I think Theodore Nott." She spoke his name as if she hadn't tasted it on her tongue a million times over. "Is an ass."
"Oh he so is." Felicity laughed. "Flores, right?" Rory nodded shyly. "Yeah, I don't know, he's just fun, I guess." Aurora pretended to laugh, smiling as she bid herself goodbye, all sorts of uncomfortable slushing within her.
Her brothers met their sister by the counter, having eavesdropped a particular conversation themselves. Without much of a word they let her pass and purchase Ginny Weasleys gist, placing it comfortable in her bag, right next to Theo's.
• • •
"Theodore Nott." Sebastian Flores humphed to his brother. "I don't like it." Their heads nodded. "I don't like it one bit."
They'd just arrived home from Auroras insisted Christmas shopping and in hand, the conversation they had overheard, her silence a clear indicator it had put her off somehow. They recognised the boy as the one who she had waved to during the end of the summer holidays; the obvious blush that spread along her cheeks an obvious give away.
"Rora does... apparently." The middle child huffed clearly bothered. "Why must she choose him?"
"Why must I choose who?" She traveled down the staircase, a mug in her hand.
"Say, Rora." Sebastian shook his head. "Who's Theodore Nott?"
How did they know? Was her first thought. Soon followed by; How can I lie? "Uhm, he's a friend from school, we were a bit iffy at first but we get along now." A strand of her hair twirled between her thumb and middle finger. She considered herself an exceptional liar, and with a simple goodnight, she traveled off to bed.
"Well." Malachai sighed. "She was obvious."
"Mhm." The eldest nodded. "Looks like Rory has a little crush." The young man exhaled in defeat.
• • •
"Hey Theo." A sultry purr sounded from behind the irate wizard. Dressed in his finest dress robes, the Slytherin boy stood bored on Christmas Eve awaiting for the Pureblood celebration to end. It was more of a social brag than a celebration to be clear. An excuse to strut around and flash pretty jewels and expensive robes all whilst boating on and on about finance and wealth.
A party with music but no dancing.
He turned around, offering Felicity Bullstrode an unimpressed glance, only then realising the depth of his idiocy. "Felicity." He nodded in greeting careful not to initiate any physical contact, he did not need the girl developing any new ideas.
"We haven't spoken in a while." She touched his shoulder.
So much for not initiating physical contact.
"No." The boy sighed. "No we haven't."
"Oh, don't make me ask." The pretty girl smiled, slapping his arm. He did not reply, simply feigned confusion. "Why?" The girl blinked. "We haven't spoken. Like at all. In almost five months."
He pretended to realise. "Ah." He and Aurora had been seeing each other for that long. "My owl." He sought for a lie. "My owl has fallen ill."
"Oh." The girl frowned in sympathy. "Is she okay?"
"Oh! She's... she's fine." He coughed. "Now that is". The boy fiddled with his own fingers. "I just... I just have been really worried, you know."
"Of course." Felicity rubbed his bicep. His lie, he saw, was pathetic. Apparently, too distracted by her own sexual desire did not seem to notice. "Do you need help cheering up by any chance?" He was mot surprised when she offered, it had, at one point been a ritual of theirs. Felicity Bullstrode was one of the only girls he hung out with after a shag. Never friends, but certainly benefited from the others presence.
"I'm really not in the mood." She laughed, loudly too.
"Remember the last time you said that?" Her cheeks had tinted a heavy pink, so did his.
"Vaguely." He dismissed. "I'm taking a break, actually, from all that."
"What from shagging?" The girl placed the hand that had been on his arm upon her hip. "Trust me, I know, everyone does." She watched as he cringed. "Well not everyone, but people notice things." Her nail raised to between her teeth. "I don't know. I was just wondering if you'd be interested in one more night of fun?" The girl turned pink.
"Felicity." The boy sighed preparing the distant goodbye.
"Ah, Theodore!" His saviour arrived. Draco Malfoy not being an absolute prat, signal the press! Theodore snickered in his own head. "I need you mate. Ah, Felicity." Malfoy failed to grin.
"Draco." The girl too failed to smile properly. "D'you mind?" The girl gestured.
"Not at all." The blonde gripped Theo's arm. "I doubt I'll have him back to you by the end of the night... so don't stay around waiting." They left absent of a proper farewell.
"What was that for?" The elder wizard portrayed a sceptical approach.
"Don't think for a moment I was helping you and Flores, you're needed." Malfoy scoffed.
"I'm needed." Theo lazily drawled and easy grin spread along his face.
"Meeting." Was all he said, and just like that, Theodore was no longer smiling.
• • •
As a boy, Theodore Nott Senior, Theo's father had persistently ensured Theodore junior would not fall a young victim to the feeble mistake of fearing the disproportionate, peculiar and monstrous.
Having taken the greatest precautions within his young education that Theodore's mind should not be impressed by any and all supernatural horrors, the father proved successful. Pitch darkness had no effect upon his fancy and by the age of eight, Theodore scoffed before the faces of his fellow peers as they expressed the their quaking nightmares of vampires or clowns.
He could never recall any memories of having trembled in response to a tale of superstition, or to have feared the apparition of the undead. The young boy, cynical by seven, pessimistic by nine, preferred to arrange his perception and to perceive the world as a naturally dark place, and if any horrors should bother him, it be his father.
By seventeen, any childlike negativity he felt seemed rather dull, alike how he once viewed the youthful fears of any child.
By seventeen, he shared a table with one of the evilest reoccurring historic figures to ever grace the yet to be written novels and text books. By seventeen, he shared a table with Voldemort.
Sat, in order of rank and respect, Death eaters had an assigned seating arrangement. The lower, often disregarded sat furthest form Lord Voldemort, as the Dark lords closest associated were placed by his side. Theodore, through the courtesy of his respected father, had received a safe place in the middle, closer to the infamous wizard than he wished to be but far from the often targeted bunch.
He had noticed how far down the Malfoy family were sat those days. The disaster of the Ministry of Magic had taken its ugly toll upon many that evening, Theodore's father pardoned for whatever discontent Voldemort had initially expressed, Lucius Malfoy, however, did not revive such mercy. Instead, the man sat, his complexion paler than ever as rings of navy sorrow highlighted the already accentuated bags of his under eye. His family beside him; no better.
Theodore felt compelled to offer them a gentle smile. He would not dare.
As if having sensed his momentary collapse of a stoic facade, the Dark Lords gaze skimmed directly over him. Theodore barely had to look up, the blood red hues served as precise knives that penetrated through his flesh and up his spine. His posture fell slack as the evil wizards gaze continued down the table and away from Theodore.
Voldemort had greeted the crowded room with an eery silence. Having not yet bothered to speak, he did this every meeting. Theo often quietly questioned why and figured the intensity of the situation was amplified by his silent arrival. Not even the birds perched along the windowsill offered a peep.
"I understand I have interrupted your Christmas celebration." Voldemorts lip curled upward, his eyes toward Lucius as if the he had spoken of a shared inside joke. All knew his lighthearted gaze was simply a mockery of sort. "Yaxley, I'd appreciate a finished report regarding the current whereabouts of Cornelius by the end of the week, loose ends must be severed as soon as possible."
The elder wizard addressed momentarily by the Dark Lord nodded twice, his lips sealed, forming the stiffened line of what seemed close to a grimace; Theodore wouldn't be surprised if it were a smile.
Following such, Voldemort and the far more prestigious wizards, including Nott Snr, discussed the current events of the ministry and the repercussions of Voldemorts reign, bringing forth statistics and predictions. Such politics did not interest Theo in the slightest.
Tempted, but not swayed, by the urge to rest his cheek upon his closed fist, elbow on the table, plagued his uninterested thoughts. Simply wishing he were not present, the initial fear that came before every meeting exchanged for a heavy case of boredom.
"Theodore." The wizard captivated the vast attention of the father. The older man, straightening as his name was brought forth. The junior, remained silent, his gaze stiff upon the empty place directly before his view. "The other one." Voldemort sighed.
The senior Theodore's wrinkles, within a second, grew more prominent. And the junior Theodore felt as if, in that moment, he developed a matching pair of creases in his skin. He'd be sure to race for a mirror the very second the meeting be announced 'adjourned', hopeful he had not really gained any wrinkles.
"Yes, my Lord." Theo grunted, strained vocals forming an awkward jumble of words, he had to clear his swollen throat, once again fear stricken.
"Progress?" The chalk coloured complexion of Voldemort appeared yellow beneath the eerie lighting of Malfoy Manor.
"Progress?" He copied in question. "My lord." The boy hastily added.
"I see you've raised a parrot for a son, Theodore... senior." The dark wizard chuckled for a moment. Theodore, the youthful son, was taken aback, unaware Voldemort could joke even if it were at Theo's expense. "I'm referring to your assigned task, boy."
He cleared his throat again. "Yes." His eyes found Draco's, a hint of relief peaked through his grey hues, they had done well. Theodore, having expected Draco would deliver this report, was not prepared for his question, and although it was only one, he felt bombarded. It seemed the Dark Lord was interested in what Theodore had to say.
He stiffened his posture and swallowed once before engaging within the conversation as if he had any choice at all. "For the past six months Draco Malfoy and myself have dedicated our efforts to the upcoming infiltration of Hogwarts and the assassination of Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore, as you know, still lives. A fellow peer of mine, Katie Bell, fallen a casualty of our attempts on the headmasters life, she is currently residing within Saint Mungos as we speak, unaware of our involvement."
Stealing a silent, shaky gasp of air, he continued. "As we approached the end of our first semester, Malfoy and I were successful within developing a tactic capable of sneaking in the death eaters of your high ranks and choosing." Voldemort did not reply and so he warily continued. "Through portable wardrobes, the twin resides within Boris and Borkes, Knocktown alley... My lord."
The dark wizard remained spectacle, his eyes simply watching Theodore who was by that point flustered under the pressure. Having delivered his unprepared report, he was unable to contain his stable tone an flow of words, occasionally stammering or hesitating. His words, unprofessional and messy certainly needed improvement, however as a result offered a fairly descent effort.
"Hmm." Voldemort nodded dismissively.
And with a drop of the stomach, a dizzy spell of his mind, and a discolouration of his complexion; Theodore came to realise his own lack of satisfaction for the Dark Lords reaction. He felt himself pry for a simple smile, a nod, anything, anything to suggest Voldemort were happy with him.
And within half a moment, a moment that terrified him, he saw his father through his own reflection. A Death Eater.
Theodore barely noticed how the Dark Lords lip curled upward, having portrayed a seemingly more positive persona by that very half a moment.
Hardly ever phased, he was, by the figments of gothic creation. The summoning of ghouls and spirits not once achieved a shiver, the classic horrors of Frankenstein not once evoking a sharp chill. He received his childhood torment through the harsh realities of his domestic life. He feared the very man that raised him, and now, there he was, shameful to admit, he too feared you know who.
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AN,
OooOoOoo, Idk bout you all but I really liked the beginning of the last bit with the whole not fearing figments and such... cannot relate... Pennywise continues to fucking terrify me at night. Idk if anyone gonna reply but what scares / scared you? I'm interested.
Hope you all enjoyed, luv ya. MWUAH, Sofia xx