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Chapter Text

“We have to do something for Neville’s birthday, too. It’s just one day before mine.”

Theo sighs and turns his head. Harry is standing in the doorway of Theo’s bedroom and interrupting the lounging time Theo has been attempting to have on his bed. “You are free to put a party together. Get Cassie to help you, if you want. I am not putting a party together.”

Harry frowns at him and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t know you hated Neville that much.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Then why—”

“I have no time or effort to expend on him right now,” Theo says, and gestures at the piles of parchment sitting on his bedroom table. There’s summer homework, correspondence from people like Lucius Malfoy who Theo has to play word games with, paperwork pertaining to the Nott estate that he more or less inherited from his father, and letters from many, many people who want to know if Harry’s Prophet story about what happened in the graveyard is really true. “I’m busy.”

“You’re not too busy to have a birthday party for me.”

“I started planning that three months ago, so I’m only in the stages of wrapping up the planning now.”

“Three mo—” Harry’s voice trails off, and he stares at Theo hard. Theo blinks innocently back. “Three months ago, we didn’t know that I would be coming here for the summer to live.”

“Three months ago, I didn’t know I would be coming back here to live. But I knew you weren’t staying with the Muggles, and I knew that we would do something special to celebrate your birthday. I had no idea about Longbottom. So.”

Harry visibly wrestles with this. Theo sprawls on the bed and watches him, admiring the way that Harry frowns at him and nibbles at his lip with sharp white teeth that, yesterday, bit—

“Neville will be upset if we have a birthday party for me and not him,” Harry says at last.

“I don’t think that’s true at all, based on what I know of him.”

Harry’s hands gather into a knot on his knees, and then the real, true words burst out of him. “I’ll be upset if we don’t have a birthday party for him, too.”

And that’s that. Theo sighs. Why did I bring Harry here for this summer, if not to make him happy? “All right,” he mutters, desperately resigned. “We’ll make it a joint birthday party and we can have some plants for Longbottom’s sake, how’s that?”

Harry lets out a joyous laugh and flings himself at Theo. They roll around on the bed for a moment, and they end up with Harry straddling Theo’s hips and smiling down at him. It’s an expression that has more than a bit of manipulation to it, Theo notices, intrigued.

“And Sirius said that I would never persuade you to give a party for Neville.”

“That’s it, I’ve got to prove Black wrong.”

Harry laughs again, a deeper version this time, and leans over to kiss Theo breathless. Theo winds his arms around Harry’s shoulders and kisses him until his own lips feel numb, until there’s a rush of heat through him that means he rolls over and pins Harry’s shoulders to the bed. Harry is staring at him with dark eyes, the laughter gone, or moved deeper into him.

“Now that I’ve captured you,” Theo whispers, sliding a hand down Harry’s shoulder and towards his trousers, “what am I going to do with you?”

“Make me happy,” Harry says.

Theo never knew that a breathy voice like that could make him so hard. He crushes Harry to him, one arm around his lower back, and Harry gasps and rocks up and then down. Their groins are perfectly aligned. The world bursts into wheeling fireworks inside Theo’s head.

Someone knocks on the door.

Theo turns his head to the side and snarls something wordless. The wards in the house, responding to his intent far more than a verbal command, seal across the door, locking it so that Black (or whoever) can’t come in.

Harry laughs beneath him, breathless, and arches up into Theo, whispering against his cheek, “Make me come.”

This is a marked change from what they’ve done with each other before, but it doesn’t matter. Theo bends his head and kisses Harry and moves his hips sharply, one way and then the other. Harry rides along with him, gasping, his mouth opening. His tongue is slippery and warm beneath Theo’s, his hands are grasping, his hips are sharp and angular and—

Harry comes.

So does Theo.

*

It’s only after long moments of languorous panting on the bed that Theo remembers, right, someone was knocking on the door and trying to get in. He still doesn’t intend to let them in, but he can read the wards to see who it was.

He snorts a little when the wards report back to him that it was indeed Black. The man always seems to require Harry’s attention when he’s with Theo, lately.

Well, he can’t have it right now.

“Hmmm,” Harry says, and rests his head against the side of Theo’s neck. Theo shudders a little from the warmth of his breath, the smell of it. “You realize that we didn’t even take our clothes off?”

Theo laughs softly and rolls over to face him. Harry is looking at him with shining eyes. “Do you mind that?”

“No. I just thought you might.”

“Because I’m so prissy?”

“I never thought of you as someone who would willingly have sex with someone else while still dressed,” Harry says, which doesn’t really answer the question. He reaches out and trails his fingers through Theo’s hair, his eyes half-shut. “Mmmm. I really liked that, Theo.”

“Good. Then that means we can do it more often.”

“Yes. And I’ll tell Sirius to bugger off.”

Theo laughs before he can help himself. Harry cuddles closer still, his eyes bright and fascinated.

“He’s worried about me, you know,” Harry murmurs, and Theo just nods indulgently, because he understands that and it’s one of Black’s few redeeming features. “But he doesn’t need to be.”

Theo blinks, not understanding. “You think you have some way to take care of Voldemort?”

“No.” Harry lifts his head to look Theo in the eye, and Theo is captivated by the deep shine in his face. “I mean that he worries about me with you. Thinks that you’re going to break my heart or something like that. He mutters about it all the time. How you just don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re wrong about things, and I should find a nice boy to settle down with.”

Theo shakes his head slowly. He didn’t know Black was saying those specific things to Harry, but it’s not really a surprise. “And what are you going to say to him?”

“What do you think I say?” Harry lowers his head until his nose nearly rests on Theo’s cheek and it’s overwhelming trying to look him in the eye. “I say no. Obviously.”

“I mean, I know, but…”

“I’ll tell it to him even more firmly in the future.” Harry’s fingers make their way into Theo’s hair and tug, and Theo closes his eyes despite himself, tilting his head further back to feel the way Harry’s touching him, despite all the lessons that his father tried to teach him about never being so vulnerable with another human being. “He doesn’t see how special you are to me.”

Theo lies there and feels as though Harry has grown wings and spread them to cradle Theo in the warmth. His heart is beating steadily, but it still feels like he might be about to die.

He would be all right with dying, like this.

*

“If we might have a strategy discussion?”

That was the only thing Mrs. Zabini said before when she came through the Floo. Theo half-inclined his head to her and went to fetch Harry. He did ask Blaise, but Blaise gave him an ancient look and said, “My mother wouldn’t want to discuss strategy with me,” then turned and walked out of the room.

Theo does worry about that, a little, but he worries more about the way that Isabelle Zabini smiles and turns to them when she sees Harry in the doorway of the sitting room, beckoning them inside with gentle motions of her fingers.

“You are so fascinating, Mr. Potter,” she says, with a wide smile that makes Theo want to grip his wand. He doesn’t have to, though, because they’re inside his house and she did swear an oath. She did. “Who knew that you would spread word like that of the Dark Lord’s return?” She laughs a little. “I can see why he wanted to kill you so badly.”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know why he wanted to kill me when I was a baby. But yeah, I’ve made myself a bit annoying to him since I came to Hogwarts.” He tugs on Theo’s shoulder and seats them both on the couch facing Mrs. Zabini, instead of further away and separately, the way Theo planned on.

Theo half-frowns, but then he feels the weight of Harry’s hand on his shoulder and sees the frown that he’s sending at Mrs. Zabini in turn, and has to control himself so that he doesn’t laugh aloud.

Harry seems to have made the same assumption that Black did when Harry met Blaise’s mother for the first time. As though she would have any interest in romancing or bedding Theo. Theo doesn’t understand all the reasons behind her murdering her husbands, but he does know they were all more powerful, wealthier, and older than he is. A lot of his importance rests on Harry.

Harry’s hand tightens, and he pulls Theo abruptly into his side and turns so that he’s half-shielding him from Mrs. Zabini’s gaze.

Oh.

Theo draws in the warmth and scent of Harry’s body through his nostrils and thinks that he might have made a mistake, just the way Black did. Harry doesn’t think Theo will become Mrs. Zabini’s next husband. He just wants to shield him from becoming a victim, making him safe and secure.

Harry senses danger from Mrs. Zabini, and might think she’s able to skirt her oath. He’ll protect Theo as best he can.

It’s incredibly flattering, even if it’s also unnecessary. Theo gently touches Harry’s shoulder and holds the touch until Harry looks reluctantly into his eyes, then shakes his head a little. Harry tilts his own head and raises his eyebrows.

It amuses Theo, but they do seem to have got much better at non-verbal communication since they started sleeping together.

Harry finally sighs noisily through his nose after long moments of Theo holding his gaze and conveying as much confidence and trust as he can, and he leans back and loops an arm around Theo’s shoulders instead. Mrs. Zabini looks even more intensely amused. Harry meets her eyes and says with less graciousness than Theo would have hoped for, “What did you want to talk to us about?”

“Strategy discussion.” Mrs. Zabini arranges her robes around her. “As I said.”

“Strategy in what sense? To fight Voldemort?”

Theo holds back and lets Harry take the lead. It’ll be good for his confidence and his standing in Mrs. Zabini’s eyes. Besides, Theo is curious himself.

Mrs. Zabini jerks and then looks as if she would have liked to stop herself. She taps her fingers on her knee for a moment. “My son told me that you say the Dark Lord’s name. I confess I was not prepared for the impact.”

“Strategy in what sense?”

Mrs. Zabini stays silent for almost a full minute, studying Harry out of dark eyes. Harry stares back. Theo lets his hand squeeze the middle of Harry’s back, both because it’s out of sight of Mrs. Zabini and because he could use the reassurance. He’s doing well so far.

“In shaping the political future of Britain,” Mrs. Zabini says at last, and sits back, relaxing a little, the pleats of her robe falling into new patterns. Theo thinks it’s a signal of a sort of surrender. “For years, I have not been able to trust my allies in this country or have much influence because the Dark Lord would corrupt them and take what I did have. Then, in an era of peace, Britain turned inwards and forgot to look for help from outside its borders. Now I have the chance to regain what I lost.”

“Would this involve torturing people?”

Mrs. Zabini pauses for a moment. “No.”

“What about killing people?”

“In general, I find killing people worth less than keeping them alive. I kill only those who have outworn their usefulness and who have become dangerous to me.”

“So every one of your husbands, then?”

Theo gasps. It sounds as though all the air has been sucked out of the room other than that. Mrs. Zabini’s eyes have gone wide again, wide enough that Theo thinks he can see through them to the bottom of her heart.

Harry leans a little forwards. “I’m trying to decide if you’re someone I should ally with,” he says, almost apologetically. “If you kill people because they’re going to be useless to you, then I don’t know if our alliance would do any good. What happens when you decide that I’m the one who’s become useless to you?”

Mrs. Zabini sits so still for a moment that Theo reaches out to the wards, ready to capture her if she tries to get up and do something. And then she throws back her head and laughs the most open laughter Theo has ever heard from someone.

Harry gives her what seems to be a puzzled smile, leaning a little back into Theo to keep hold of his hand. Theo grips it back and squeezes. He’s still not entirely sure what Harry thought he was doing, if he didn’t expect this reaction.

No, wait, maybe Harry did. Or he hoped for something like it. For Mrs. Zabini to act openly, so he could understand her better.

“I would swear reciprocal oaths with you, if that would help,” Mrs. Zabini says, when her laughter has shaken into nothing more than a slight tremble of her robes. But Theo thinks he can still see the brightness of the laughter in her eyes, the way her hands twitch. “You would swear not to touch my own allies or hinder them in their activities.”

“What kind of ‘activities’ do you foresee your allies performing?” Theo asks, because he’s caught that even if Harry hasn’t.

Mrs. Zabini gives him a smile that’s sharper than the ones she’s bestowed on Harry. “Some of them would be aimed at taking control of your Ministry.”

Harry opens his mouth, but it’s Theo’s turn to pull him a little back so that Harry is more behind him. He squeezes Harry’s shoulder and back and hopes he can convey what he needs to without being too open about it. Let me handle this.

Harry seems to struggle with that for a moment. Then he ends up nodding and leaning back so that Theo can speak.

Theo smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder again. “To run it from Italy?” he asks. “That seems like it would be a long Apparition or Floo journey each morning.”

“I have no desire to do it myself, sweet boy,” Mrs. Zabini says. “I would simply ensure that magical Britain would have a climate more favorable to certain…imports that I want to make. Not to mention becoming a more pleasant place for my son, if he decides to stay in or visit Britain after he finishes at Hogwarts.”

Theo nods. That’s about what he expected. “What do you think of the current Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge?”

“He is a fool.”

Harry stiffens a little at Theo’s side and then relaxes. Theo squeezes him again. That was what he was trying to get across to Harry: they hate the Minister anyway, and if it’s not Death Eaters taking over the Ministry, it will probably be someone who can be reasoned with. Or at least run the Ministry more efficiently.

“Why should we trust that whoever takes over on your instructions will be better?”

“You should trust that because it is true,” Mrs. Zabini says, and for a moment, her voice thickens. “You have no idea how the outside world views magical Britain. Such a collection of fools, they say, trusting to their isolation from the Continent to shield them against consequences. The day is rapidly approaching when British wizards and witches may not be able to be accepted at schools abroad, did you know? So great is the disgust with blood purity in your country, your failure to contain or bargain with the Dark Lord, and the insular mindset.”

“So you are saying that Beauxbatons or Durmstrang wouldn’t send an acceptance owl to an eleven-year-old in our country?”

“They might still do that. That would be before much of the bollocks was taught in your country and some blood purity ideas quite so entrenched.” Mrs. Zabini makes a little move with her hand. “But if you wanted to pursue certain studies, enter certain areas, visit certain magical creatures when you are older? No.”

“And you think you can change things?” Harry blurts.

“I think I will change things. For the sake of my son, who loves this country for reasons that I do not understand.”

Harry gives an uncomfortable little wriggle. Theo holds back a laugh. Harry probably doesn’t think this is the greatest motivation in the world, and that changing the whole country for one person is—not evil, perhaps, but simply not something he should be sympathetic to.

But Theo is. Both because Blaise is his friend, and because it would provide Harry and him with what they need most, political allies against Voldemort. If the Ministry becomes better, that’s a bonus. If not, then that’s no different from its already long history of corruption.

“We could study the wording of such oaths as we would need,” Theo says. “We would need to take some time to come up with them.”

Mrs. Zabini nods, and then slants a glance at Harry. “And you, Mr. Potter? Do you intend to let Mr. Nott do all your talking for you?”

“I trust Theo.”

Theo’s heart gives a single hard thump at the adoration in Harry’s eyes. He leans back towards him, and their hands brush. Harry gives him a small, contented smile.

“I see,” Mrs. Zabini murmurs.

Theo knows he should be wary. Mrs. Zabini will probably find a way to exploit their affection for each other. That’s the kind of thing that she knows all too well how to do.

But he finds it hard to care, or look away from Harry.

We’ll survive what she tries to do. We’re too strong together not to.

Chapter Text

“You made an alliance with Mrs. Zabini?”

Theo rolls his eyes and concentrates on his breakfast. Black sounds extremely shocked. Then again, he was shocked about his Mind-Healing options, and shocked about Theo standing up to Mrs. Longbottom, and shocked about Harry having a Slytherin boyfriend. The other day, they came to the table and Black was shocked that they’d had sex. He left the table with a literal growl when Harry refused to deny it.

“Yes, of course we did, Sirius,” Harry says patiently. “We made it weeks ago. I told you about it before.”

“That’s not…there’s a difference between her making a promise not to hurt you, and your making an alliance with her!”

Theo raises his eyebrows a little. He’s not surprised that Black makes that distinction, but he’s a little surprised that he accepted the earlier promise as being sincere.

“Well, now we have both.” Harry reaches for his scrambled eggs.

“You want an outsider influencing British politics?”

“How exactly is my mother an outsider?” Blaise asks as he saunters into the room.

Theo sits up. Blaise catches his eye and shakes his head minutely, so Theo backs down. If Blaise wants to handle Black…well, frankly, the man could use someone who doesn’t grant his opinion the weight Harry does.

“She’s from Italy!”

“And my father was from Britain. I do love this country. I don’t always enjoy having that connection to it, but my mother and I both do. She’s trying to make Britain civilized so that I can also enjoy spending time here.”

“We have our own Ministry! We don’t need advice from Italy!”

“Wait,” Harry says, speaking up before Blaise can say something. “Is that what you’re annoyed about, Sirius? That Mrs. Zabini is from Italy, not that she has the reputation for having killed all those people!”

“What? I mean…of course I’m annoyed about both, she might hurt you since she’s killed all her husbands…”

“Rumors only,” Blaise interjects smoothly.

“But you just keep mentioning that she’s from Italy, not her reputation. Why are you so hung up on that?”

Black frowns, half-ducking his head. Theo sits back in his chair, finishing with the remains of a peach. This is interesting. He doesn’t think he’s seen Black this forced to fish for words since his trial.

“I—don’t think anyone outside Britain should be interfering in our problems when they didn’t help us with You-Know-Who,” Black says at last.

“And did you help with Grindelwald?” Blaise asks at once. “He was the greatest Dark Lord to terrorize Europe in the last three generations. He had more of a following and conquered more than your Dark Lord did.”

“Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald!”

“After months, after years, of terror—”

“It wasn’t our problem!”

“Then your Dark Lord wasn’t ours,” Blaise says, and sits back looking pleased with himself.

Theo releases his hold on Harry’s hand. He was holding him back because Harry obviously wanted to say something to Black, but Theo thought Blaise could handle himself on his own, and his belief turned out to be justified.

“And now she wants to interfere,” Black says, scowling at Blaise.

“I think it’s a perfectly valid reason,” Harry says, and Black’s attention swings back to him. “She said that Britain was seen as insular and obsessed with blood purity, and we actually have less chance of being invited to schools like Durmstrang and Beauxbatons even if we want to attend them. That’s something worth thinking about, isn’t it? If people here want to go those schools but they can’t?”

“It’s not our fault those schools are snobby,” Black mumbles.

“Is the blood purity not your fault?”

“Not my fault!”

And now Black is glaring at Blaise again. Theo sighs and intervenes. “You’re taking this more personally than you need to, Black. Just like Mrs. Zabini isn’t responsible for all the faults of the international response to Voldemort, you of course aren’t responsible for the island’s fixation on blood purity. But you’re being used as convenient scapegoats to stand in for the masses of people whose fault it is. One thing Mrs. Zabini is doing is offering better ideas for changing those masses’ response.”

“What does she want to do?”

Theo opens his mouth, but this time, Harry is the one who squeezes his hand. Theo nods and sits back. Harry has to have some experience in dealing with and standing up to his godfather, or their relationship will turn into one-sided coddling.

“She’s thinking about making sure that various people who are competent get to higher ranks in the Ministry,” Harry says smoothly. “And that there’s a better Minister. More coordinated response to Voldemort, less of the hiding and blaming that the Ministry is currently doing.” The Ministry might not have managed a cover-up for the pictures of Voldemort in the Prophet, but they’re currently doing their best.

“That—doesn’t sound too bad.”

Theo hastily scoops up a spoonful of porridge so that he can hide his snorting laughter. Harry has managed to make Black agree that a takeover of the Ministry wouldn’t be too bad. He can see Blaise’s eyes gleaming with amusement from across the table, and smiles at his friend as Black starts talking about things he’d like to see the Ministry do and Harry leads him skillfully down the path into approval of Mrs. Zabini’s ideas.

It gives Theo inappropriate ideas of his own, which makes him glad he and Harry can disappear to Harry’s room immediately afterwards.

*

“Honestly thought the invitation was a trap at first.”

Theo just smiles at Weasley as he and Granger step through the front door of the house. They responded within the same day to the invitations to Harry’s birthday party. Theo can’t fault them for their devotion to Harry.

Just the way they express it.

“Harry is through here,” he says, opening the door that gives access to the dining room. Harry, who’s still eating through some of the rich breakfast Cassie made for him, glances up and then jumps to his feet.

“Ron! Hermione!”

“Mate!”

They practically fling themselves at each other, grabbing each other in a fierce embrace and spinning around laughing. Theo watches with a faint smile, glad that Harry is happy. He thinks that during the school year, he would have been jealous, but he has shared things with Harry that neither of them have.

And they wouldn’t succeed in driving Theo out of Harry’s life any more than Theo would succeed in driving them out of Harry’s.

“Harry, we have to ask you—”

Granger hits Weasley on the arm, and Weasley starts. Then he turns around and glares at Theo. “Private business to talk to Harry about,” he says loudly. “So you won’t mind leaving, will you, Nott?”

“No,” Theo says. “I should go and make sure the table to receive gifts is set up, anyway. Some are coming by owl, and there’s always the chance that something malicious or cursed might manage to slip through.”

Weasley stares at him. Granger just narrows her eyes and asks, “Wouldn’t the wards prevent things like that from coming in?”

“If it’s subtle enough or won’t be triggered until the gift is touched, not always.” Theo nods to Harry. “You still want those little Cauldron Cake imitations that Cassie makes with lunch, right?”

“How dare you, Theo, they are much better than the real thing, not mere imitations.”

Theo laughs and nods, stepping out of the room and closing the door firmly behind him. Weasley and Granger can have whatever private conversation with Harry they want. Harry will still tell Theo afterwards, or hint at it, if it’s anything important or anything he should know, and Theo can wait until then.

*

Harry is quiet for a large part of the afternoon.

Not that most people would probably notice. After all, Harry chatters with everyone at the table about what he’s been doing for the past few weeks and how great it felt to anger the Ministry and get the truth about Voldemort out there. He listens to Luna go on about her magical creatures with nods and smiles and frequent questions, and manages to coax Neville onto a practice broom that Theo found in a dusty corner of the manor that almost guarantees it’s not cursed. He argues with Blaise about political reform, and then Blaise and Granger and Harry get into a three-sided argument about it that just barely doesn’t end with jinxes.

But for all that, he’s still quieter than normal, and the smiles he gives Theo are strained.

Theo ignores that for the moment. Harry will confess what’s going on to him later, or he won’t and Theo will confront him. Either way, he’ll eventually hear about it.

The most surprising thing is that the first hint comes from Weasley, not Harry himself. Theo is over at the ward boundary examining a spell that should have sounded an alarm when Neville dived on the broom too fast and didn’t. Weasley comes up and taps him on the shoulder.

“Have to talk to you for a minute, Nott.”

“All right,” Theo says. Weasley has stayed distant from him during the party until now and just offered a few glares, but this feels like it might be a true conversation starter and not an ambush. Theo still keeps his hand low enough to brush against the wand holster fastened to his side as he follows Weasley over to a large hydrangea bush.

Weasley steps behind the bush and turns around with an expression halfway between a scowl and a frown of confusion. “You know Harry has to fight V-Voldemort.”

“Yes,” Theo agrees. “I doubt that Voldemort will leave him alone now that Harry helped muck up his resurrection.”

Weasley pauses. Then he says, “What happens if he has to fight him and he doesn’t have enough time for your relationship anymore?”

“Is that why you were staying away?” Theo asks in interest. “You thought he was so busy fighting Voldemort that he didn’t have time for your friendship anymore?”

Weasley’s cheeks turn red. “That’s not why!”

“Okay. Why?”

“We don’t need to explain that to you!”

Theo rolls his eyes a little. “All right, all right. The answer is that it won’t happen, because any amount of training Harry has to do will be better done with my support. And I certainly wouldn’t hold it against him if Voldemort interrupted a date we were having.”

“It’s just that,” Weasley begins, and stops again. He rubs his forehead with one hand, staring into the distance. Theo resists the urge to turn and squint and see if anything interesting is happening over there. He keeps his eyes patiently on Weasley’s face.

“It’s just that Harry is going to have less time for everyone,” Weasley whispers finally, without looking at Theo. “And I want to make sure you won’t resent that and abandon him. He would be so upset if you abandoned him now.”

Theo blinks, then smiles a little. It’s concern expressed in Weasley’s way, graceless and loud, but it’s true concern, and Theo is relieved that the boy has got over his pride and will properly support Harry this year.

“I would wait for him as long as needed,” Theo says, making Weasley jump. He seems to have sunk into his own thoughts, perhaps worrying that Harry will have less time for him and Granger, and forgotten Theo is there. “But it would have to be Harry deciding that he needed to spend time apart from me to practice spells. Not Dumbledore or someone else making the decision.”

Weasley pauses again. Then he nods. “That’s fair,” he says, sounding surprised, then scowls at Theo.

“Surprised I’m being fair?”

“Surprised that a Slytherin cares about a Gryffindor’s opinion.”

Theo snorts. “I never put as much stock in the House rivalry as Malfoy or some Gryffindors did.” His eyes linger on Weasley, who scowls at him harder. “Do you think I would have dated Harry if I did?”

“For the prestige,” Weasley says baldly, “yeah, I do.”

Theo rolls his eyes again. “We might never be friends, but I do think that you need to accept I’m dating Harry because of him, Weasley. Not for prestige, not because I think I’ll somehow be protected when Voldemort comes back. If anything, this makes me more of a target.”

“But it could get you applause from our side. So you could still be doing this to get some kind of protection from Professor Dumbledore or the Or—” Weasley clams up abruptly.

“The Order of the Phoenix?”

“You know about that?”

“My father was a Death Eater, and he didn’t keep secrets he thought he could use to scare me into compliance. Of course I know about it, Weasley.”

“Harry didn’t,” Weasley blurts, and then goes bright red.

“Is this part of what you told him about in that private conversation?”

“If Harry hasn’t told you, maybe he doesn’t want you to know,” Weasley snaps, and turns even redder.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk privately since then. But I hope that you didn’t tell him the name of the Order and then that you couldn’t tell him anything else. Or did you talk to him about the Order against Dumbledore’s wishes and then implore him to keep it secret since you didn’t want the Headmaster to find out you’re more loyal to Harry than to him?”

“Just—shut up,” Weasley snaps, and shoves away from Theo, towards Granger. He tells her something in a low voice, and Granger turns a scowl on Theo, a scowl that becomes harder when Cassie turns up to remove some of the dishes.

Theo shrugs to himself. He doesn’t really care if Granger disapproves of him having house-elves. Theo has more important things to do than cook and clean.

He does his best to enjoy the rest of the birthday party until he has time to talk to Harry. In the end, it’s Neville’s wide eyes and beaming smile that make it worth it. For whatever reason, he hasn’t had friends to celebrate with like this before.

*

“Ron said he talked to you.”

Theo looks up from the book on wards that he’s been lounging on his bed with. Lucius Malfoy has sent him another cryptic letter hinting that Theo doesn’t have full control of the Nott wards, and Theo is determined to figure out what the fuck he means. “Yes, he did. Are you worried about it?”

“He seemed angry.”

“I’m pretty sure I guessed the content of your conversation. He didn’t like the way I phrased it.”

Harry gives Theo a faint half-smile and shuts the door behind him, walking over to sit on Theo’s bed. Theo tosses the book aside at once—it’s covered in Preservation Charms, it’s not like he’ll bend the cover or pages—and makes space for Harry. Harry leans into him, practically plastering himself to Theo’s side.

“It’s bad,” Harry whispers.

“I’m here for you.”

Theo’s voice is as gentle and steady as he knows how to make it without turning into a threat. At least Harry is reassured. He cuddles closer still, and takes a deep breath, and says, “They told me about the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Yes, I knew about them already.”

Harry rolls abruptly towards him, staring. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought you did know and it was just Weasley and Granger who thought you didn’t,” Theo points out. “You heard Mrs. Zabini mention them.”

“I mean—I didn’t know that they were active right now and that Dumbledore won’t let me fucking join!”

“I didn’t know that last part, either,” Theo says, rubbing soothing circles on Harry’s back. “And I didn’t know for certain they were active right now. Just that it was likely Dumbledore would call them back together since he believes us about Voldemort trying to resurrect himself. Why doesn’t he want you joining?”

Harry goes quiet again. Theo waits. He has Harry’s warmth beside him, and even in Harry’s silence, he can offer warmth and understanding himself.

“Dumbledore believes I have some sort of connection to Voldemort,” Harry whispers finally. “I did have dreams about him this last year, a few times. It was hard to remember them when I woke up, and it was nothing I could have used to let me predict what happened in the graveyard. But Dumbledore thinks…he didn’t want Ron and Hermione to write to me because they might tell me things that I could pass on to Voldemort without even meaning to. And the same about the Order. He doesn’t want me to know anything they’re doing in case Voldemort picks it up from my mind.”

Theo slowly nods. He can see why Harry was so quiet for most of the day. He knows that his friends trust him enough to tell him, but that the Headmaster doesn’t trust him, and it’s even for a semi-good reason. Harry won’t want to be a spy for Voldemort no matter how accidentally it might happen.

“I wonder…”

“Yes?”

Harry rolls over and stares at Theo with huge miserable eyes. Theo skims a hand down his cheek.

“Should I not be talking to you?” Harry whispers. “Should I not be here? What if I somehow betray you to Voldemort?”

Theo rolls on top of Harry at once, his lips pulling back from his lips as he tries not to snarl. “You’re not going back to the Muggles.”

“I didn’t say I was. Apparently the Order has a headquarters or a safehouse somewhere. I could go there—”

“You aren’t going there, either.” Theo becomes aware that he’s leaning down so that his nose is less than an inch away from Harry’s, and he eases back, but he can’t make himself move his arms so that he’s not caging Harry against the bed, despite knowing what this looks like. “Unless you want to. Unless you insist. Then of course I would let you go. But I wouldn’t stop writing owls to you to get you to come back.”

“You wouldn’t visit?”

“Do you think Dumbledore would allow me in an Order safehouse?”

Harry blinks. Perhaps he hasn’t considered that. There’s no better sign of how distressed he is, Theo thinks. “Oh. But, Theo…I don’t want to leave, but if I somehow betrayed a secret of the Nott wards to Voldemort—”

“How much more thoroughly could I possibly be on your side?” Theo counters. “There’s no secret of the Nott wards that you could give him. He must have been here loads of times when he was alive, and he either knows all about them already, or he doesn’t. But you don’t know how they work, so you couldn’t tell him.”

Harry looks slightly more cheerful. “That’s true.”

“And your godfather and Luna and Neville and Lupin and Blaise are not going to fight on his side. You can’t betray anyone by staying here, Harry. I promise.”

It takes a few more arguments, but Harry wants to be persuaded, and Theo knows that. It ends up with Harry kissing him and then falling asleep in Theo’s embrace. Theo lies with his arm across Harry’s shoulders and scowls into the twilight outside his window.

Dumbledore might cut Harry off from information the way he did when he told Weasley and Granger not to write, and his reasons are even understandable. But that doesn’t mean Harry simply has to suffer in ignorance.

Theo will work on getting Harry to learn Occlumency. And if Weasley and Granger stay quiet after this, or are kept in ignorance themselves by Dumbledore for fear they’ll tell Harry…

Then Theo will just have to play spy in a way Dumbledore never anticipated, sneaking about the Order’s members and the Headmaster’s office and finding the information for Harry.

The Order is loyal to Dumbledore. Weasley and Granger are loyal to Harry, but divided because they’re also uneasy about betraying the Headmaster. Black is loyal to the version of Harry in his head, Lupin probably at least partially to Dumbledore, Blaise to Theo and his mother, Luna to her father, Neville to his grandmother or his family along with Harry.

If Theo is the only one who can be wholly on Harry’s side and the only one who will fight for him without concern for divided loyalties and pure morals, then that’s a role he’ll gladly take on.

Chapter Text

“Can you see the pool of clear water I told you about in your mind?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s voice is soft, lulling and lulled. Theo smiles at him. Harry is sitting cross-legged in the quietest part of the grounds, surrounded by huge banks of roses that help to muffle sound. There’s a real pool, kept artificially still with magic, a few meters away, and a ward shimmering across the entrance to this small garden so that Black can’t come dancing in with his Animagus form and interrupt.

“Good.” Theo takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “Now, can you feel it?”

A long pause. Theo waits. He had patience drummed into him by his father as a child, for bad reasons but good results. He can certainly wait for Harry to begin reaching out to his meditation pool with all his senses.

“Yes,” Harry whispers finally. “It feels—cool on my fingers, as if I’m touching a wet cloth.”

Theo nods. “And can you hear it?”

A longer pause, and then Harry sighs and opens his eyes. “No,” he mutters. “I know you said I should be able to hear sounds from it even though I have to picture it being absolutely still, but I don’t know how.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Theo scooted towards him across the grass, and Harry leans his head on Theo’s shoulder with a sigh. “I used to imagine frogs hidden in the grass along the surface making croaking noises. That might work for you, or it might not, but you could try it.”

“I’m so stupid. Why did I think it had to be the water making the sound?”

Theo digs his hands into Harry’s shoulders. Harry relaxes against him with a little moan. It seems that clearing his mind and doing his best to meditate tenses up his body.

“You’re not stupid,” Theo whispers, leaning down near Harry’s ear. He wants to say how furious hearing Harry say that makes him, and how he wants to do something to the Muggles who made Harry believe it, and the people at school (like Snape) who reinforced it. But that won’t have the desired results. Harry will just claim that those things don’t affect him or he doesn’t want to talk about them. So Theo pursues a different path instead. “Unless you think I’m stupid for not getting it immediately as a child.”

“What? No, of course not! Your bastard of a father—”

Theo conceals a smile as he listens to Harry speak passionately for a bit. That’s the best way to get him to understand: mention a situation that happened to someone else and let him get ready to protect them.

“You were a child,” Harry says, and Theo steps back into the conversation.

“Yes. The way you were a child when you had to start fighting Voldemort. The way that you were an infant when he first confronted you.” Theo reaches out and lets his finger trail across Harry’s lips for a moment. “If fighting him were easy, Lockhart would have claimed that he’d done it.”

Harry laughs a little, and the tension finally drops from his shoulders. He leans in as if to kiss Theo, but halts with his mouth a short distance away, murmuring, “How is it that you always know what to say to make me feel better?”

“Because I’m the best boyfriend in the world?”

“Yeah, there’s a chance that’s it,” Harry says, and then he’s kissing Theo, more confident than he usually is, pressing closer, and he’s making Theo’s head spin.

They end up on the grass near one of the rose hedges. Theo’s brain is spinning, now, too, part of it saying that they should be careful of the thorns sticking out, but he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t care, Harry is pressing him down into the dirt and parts of Theo are going, gone, and his brain is quiet—

“Harry!”

There’s a shimmering flare of sparks right after the shout, followed by a lot of swearing. Theo, fully present again, lets his head fall back into the grass and stares at the sky.

“Sirius?”

“I put up a ward so that he couldn’t run in and interrupt you in the middle of your meditation,” Theo murmurs, sitting up and shaking his head a little when Harry glances at him in concern. He didn’t sprain anything when Harry pressed him down, unless you count the way his dick deflated.

“No, you put up the ward so you could have sex with my godson!”

“Sirius,” Harry moans, and drags a hand through his hair. Theo admires it, even with the skewed view he has of it right now. “You realize that I’m a participant here, right? That I’m making an informed decision?”

“You could find a nice boy to settle down with,” Black says desperately.

“I don’t want a nice boy! I want Theo!”

Theo has to hold back a snicker at the moan Black gives at that. The only thing that would be better was if he had found Harry and Theo having sex—no, as entertaining as the expression on his face would have been, Theo doesn’t really want to share such a private moment with anyone but Harry.

He stands up and walks over to Harry, draping an arm over his shoulder. Black is standing beyond the ward, and even in human form, he looks like a dog desperately trying to fight his way past a closed door. “Don’t you think you should leave off tormenting him, love?”

“Why?” Harry asks, not looking away from Black. He’s frowning. “He just keeps ignoring what I’m saying, and he would have interrupted my Occlumency lesson if he’d come in earlier.”

“You’re learning Occlumency?” Black asks, looking alarmed, despite having been there the other day when Harry told him about it. Theo was there, too, and remembers Black waving Harry’s words away before plunging into complaints about his Mind-Healer. “That’s dangerous, Harry! The effects it could have on an undeveloped mind—”

“That’s infants, Black,” Theo says.

“No! It’s any children!”

Theo shakes his head slowly. That’s just a superstition, not true. If it was true, Theo’s father would have known about it, and as disappointed in Theo as he turned out to be, he still wouldn’t have taken the chance of destroying his son’s mind before that son was old enough to sire a more manipulable child.

“That’s unfounded,” Theo says, as kindly as he can. “I’m just helping Harry practice meditation right now, anyway, Black. I put up the ward because any interruption can break the meditative state and make it harder to—”

“You could also influence Harry! You could reach into his mind with Legilimency and make him think—”

“Enough.”

Theo blinks and glances around, surprised at the sudden invasion of winter magic. Several of the roses are drooping off their branches, coated with ice. And the source is Harry, who’s staring at Black and practically vibrating in place.

More cold magic glitters around Harry as he snarls, “I trust Theo. I know why you don’t trust him, Sirius. But he’s helped free you, and given you shelter in his house, and suggested Mind-Healing, and saved your life. I want you to stop suggesting that he’s taking advantage of me and whining about everything he’s doing for me.

“I know why you’re doing this, even more than just not trusting him,” Harry continues, while Black starts to protest. “You couldn’t be there for me when I was a kid, and you want to help me. You’re worried that Theo is going to push you out of my life somehow. But he’s not, all right? I only have one godfather. And I only want one boyfriend. Okay?”

Black opens and closes his mouth a few times. Theo watches, interested. This is the quietest he’s ever seen Black, even after Harry confronted him that one time a few weeks ago.

Black finally sighs and says, “He doesn’t like me.”

“Then I’d say you’re bloody even!” This time, the gust of icy wind from Harry freezes the pool they’ve been using as an example for Harry to work with meditation on. “You don’t like him, either! Hate Theo as much as you want, but keep your mouth shut about it, okay?” Harry rushes a hand through his hair and closes his eyes. He looks tired. Theo doesn’t think it’s just from the expenditure of magic. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“He…doesn’t bad-mouth me to you?”

“No.”

Theo just nods when Black catches his eye. Black scowls, but to accuse Theo of lying, he would have to accuse Harry of it, and he must know that in this mood, Harry might just tell Theo to kick Black out of the house already.

“Fine,” Black says reluctantly. “I’ll try.”

“You can do more than try, Sirius. Yeah, I know you were in Azkaban for twelve years, but that doesn’t somehow result in an inability to keep your mouth shut around people who have helped you.”

Theo watches Black’s jaw clench and flex. He’s probably battling the temptation to point out yet again that Theo is a Slytherin and the son of a Death Eater.

Theo almost wishes he would. It would be entertaining to see Harry lose his temper again.

And the thing is, Harry doesn’t seem to be in pain because of Black’s doubt, just exasperated. He’s finally lost his patience with Black, which is fine, actually, because most people would have lost theirs long since.

(Harry might be better than Theo deserves, but Theo is keeping him).

“Fine,” Black says at last. “I’ll do that.”

“Good. Now, please, go away, Sirius. I want to spend some quality time with my boyfriend.”

Black stands there for a second longer, glaring at Theo as if he can make him change Harry’s mind. Theo tilts his head a little and raises his eyebrows. Black huffs and spins away, trudging back towards the house.

Harry breathes out slowly. His eyes come to rest on Theo, and he shakes his head. “I owe you an apology.”

“He can’t help what was done to him,” Theo murmurs, reaching up to clasp Harry’s hand, “or who he is. And you’ve finally spoken to him in the way that I hoped you would speak to him long since. He can accept it or keep fighting. I think he’ll accept it.”

“You realize that I wouldn’t give you up if he didn’t?”

“You wouldn’t give either of us up.”

Harry takes a long breath and kneels beside Theo, his fingers scraping gently down his shoulder. Theo smiles and rests his head against Harry’s leg.

“I feel almost as if I should,” Harry says softly. “Give him up because he was awful to you. But I want you both, and I’m selfish. You’ve taught me I can have what I want, so I’m going to take it.”

Theo grins at him, as thrilled as though he’s watched a spell fly from Harry’s hand. “The only thing I’m going to say is that I hope you don’t want Black the way you want me.”

“Gross, Theo.”

Theo laughs, and pulls Harry down on top of him.

*

“An interesting coincidence.”

Blaise’s voice is light, but Theo only shrugs. He doesn’t think it’s a coincidence any more than Blaise does, although Theo isn’t actually sure that Lucius Malfoy would coordinate with Dumbledore. One of them keeping an eye on the other and sending an owl when they saw the other send post isn’t impossible, however.

The letter from Dumbledore is simple and short, just a request for a private meeting with Harry at a location that Harry could pick and that wasn’t the house. The request from Lucius is for a private meeting with Theo, at a warded location in Knockturn Alley where no one will be able to use magic.

“Please tell me that the two of you aren’t thinking of going,” Blaise adds, leaning forwards around Theo to frown at Harry. They’re in one of the small sitting rooms on the house’s first floor, one with just three chairs, a fireplace, and a tiny inlaid table, and the door warded against everyone else.

As much as Theo has learned to like Neville, he doesn’t think the other boy would offer a useful perspective right now. The other Gryffindors in the house certainly wouldn’t. And they don’t need Luna wandering in to add her own flavor of sweet nonsense to the proceedings.

“I think we should,” Harry says, with a quick glance at Theo. “But I was going to suggest a change that I think you’ll approve of.”

“Theo will, or we both will?” Blaise asks.

Harry grins at him. Theo is a little startled at how easy they are around each other, but he attributes a lot of that to Harry deciding that Mrs. Zabini really isn’t trying to control him. “I think you both will. It’ll allow Theo to keep me safer, and it’ll allow you to do something other than just staying in the house to keep Theo company.”

Blaise straightens, his eyebrows flying up. “Do tell.”

“I think Theo and I should both go to the meeting with Malfoy.” Harry spins his wand absently over and over in his hand. Blaise’s eyes go to it, but, a sign of his own comfort around Harry, he doesn’t react negatively. “I’ll go under my Invisibility Cloak. There are some people who can see through it, but I have no reason to think Malfoy is one of them.”

“And me?”

“Go disguised as me, with Polyjuice, to meet Dumbledore.”

There’s a long silence, and then Blaise laughs, sounding amused and pleased and disbelieving all at once. Theo grins at him, leaning his chin for a moment on Harry’s shoulder. Harry accepts the affection easily, the way he always does, without looking away from Blaise. He doesn’t seem to pick up on the silent messages between Theo and Blaise.

Then again, maybe he doesn’t need to. He trusts both of them.

“Do you know how we’re going to get hold of Polyjuice, exactly?” Blaise asks dryly. “It does take a month to brew.”

“The Weasley twins will have some on hand.”

Theo raises his own eyebrows. “You’ve been in communication with the Weasley twins?”

“They’ve been in communication with me,” Harry says. “They learned how to cast Patronuses, and both of them showed up in my bedroom yesterday evening to talk about how they’re on my side and they’ll supply any potions or ingredients I need. And they can Apparate now, so their parents can’t stop them from coming to see me.”

Harry looks deeply self-satisfied. Blaise is considering him with the kind of look that Theo knows can lead to either laughter or respect. He tries to talk so that it doesn’t change into either. “Are they living somewhere separate from their parents? I’ve heard enough incidentally about Mrs. Weasley that I think she would notice.”

“They are. They have a flat.”

Theo nods. “Explain to me why you think this plan would work.”

“I want to be with you when you meet Mr. Malfoy. I know you don’t agree, but I don’t think Dumbledore is as dangerous as he is.” Harry folds his arms. “And I know that you know Occlumency, Zabini, so that removes a danger Dumbledore could pose to you that I would still be vulnerable to.”

“Why aren’t you calling me Blaise?”

“You said the other day that you didn’t want me to.”

“I was joking, Potter.”

“Couldn’t tell, Blaise.”

Blaise laughs. Theo blinks, a little surprised. He didn’t know that Blaise and Harry were spending time together apart from him, enough to have conversations and arguments and jokes of their own. But he likes the warmth that thought produces in his stomach.

“I do think Malfoy is more dangerous than Dumbledore,” Theo says, because he has to have a chance to fight for his own perspective. “That’s exactly why I don’t want you near him.”

“Can he see through Invisibility Cloaks?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then I should be there.” Harry lifts a hand when Theo starts to argue, and Theo falls obediently silent to listen. “You’ve spent so much time saving and defending me, Theo, and the only thing I’ve really done for you is stand up to Sirius.”

“And put that story about Voldemort in the papers.”

“Yes, but that benefited me, too.”

Theo opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again when Blaise gives him a glance like a subtle kick. Yes, Blaise is probably right. Theo doesn’t want to coddle Harry, or make him uncomfortable, or turn him into someone he isn’t. He has to let Harry help.

“Well, if Blaise is willing to go under the Polyjuice, then we can do it.”

Blaise grins at once. “It sounds exciting.”

“And something your mother would want you to do?” Theo can picture many ways that Mrs. Zabini would hurt them for hurting her son.

“If I was going to talk to Malfoy? Probably not. But Albus Dumbledore?” Blaise turns and looks at Harry. “You don’t have the feeling that he really wants to hurt you, do you?”

“No,” Harry says quietly, his head tilted a little. “I have the feeling that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did that. He—I don’t know how to explain it, exactly. He wants me to do things he wants, like stopping my relationship with Theo, but he wants to persuade me to do them, not force me.”

Theo privately holds his opinion of the likelihood of that to himself. Maybe Dumbledore doesn’t want to use force right now. Maybe he would be open to using it in the future.

But that has little to do with Blaise undertaking the meeting with Dumbledore in Harry disguise right now, so he holds his peace and watches Harry and Blaise make excited plans with their heads bent close together.

If nothing else, this will allow Harry to make some Slytherin friends other than me.

Chapter Text

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Four—A Meeting With Malfoy

“Are you sure that carrying all these things will prevent Malfoy from harming us?”

Theo rolls his eyes and places another crystal-bladed knife in his robe pocket. Harry stands off to the side, watching with intense skepticism. “No, or I wouldn’t be taking all of them. But it’s better to be—”

“Prepared than caught. Yes, I understand. You’ve said it enough.”

Theo studies Harry’s reflection in the mirror as he tucks an amulet around his wrist and then covers it with a Disillusionment Charm. Malfoy will probably note the charm, but he won’t be able to probe through it since no one will be able to cast any active spells in the area they’re meeting. “Are you irritated with me?”

Harry starts and looks up, locking eyes with Theo in the mirror. “What? Of course I’m not.”

“You’ve been really quiet today, and you’ve interrupted me seven times, and you look as though you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”

Harry halts with embarrassment, probably because he’s in the middle of pacing again. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I just—I can’t be sure that you’re going to be safe.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I’m more used to fighting for my life than you.”

“Only barely.” Theo loops a non-magical locket around his neck, one that his father inherited from a great-grandmother. Malfoy will waste time looking at it, and that will hopefully distract him from the other weapons Theo is carrying. With his wand not working in the warded area where he and Malfoy will meet, the kind of protection they’ll need is one that can be triggered at a touch. “And you’re upset. Why?”

Harry swallows, his eyes dating away from Theo’s. “When we were plotting with Blaise yesterday, all I could think was how good it felt to be doing something other than just sitting around your house and trying to learn Occlumency,” he whispers. “And now—now I think of all the ways it could go wrong.”

“I’ll prevent Malfoy from harming you.”

“What about you?”

“You’re more concerned for my life than yours. Think about yours, Harry.”

“I could say the exact same thing to you. Without the ‘Harry’ at the end.”

Theo turns around and reaches out to catch Harry’s wrists, pulling him closer. Harry lets him, but his face is pinched in an unhappy expression, one that doesn’t go away even when Theo bends down a little to kiss him.

“We’re going to be all right,” Theo says softly. “We’re going to be fine. Malfoy is less dangerous than Voldemort, and we survived a fight with him.”

“While he was a baby and a wraith!”

“We still survived. Do you really think that Malfoy will be able to attack and kill us in an area where he can’t even draw his wand?” Theo knows that he should probably say “me,” but they’ll both be in possible danger, and he won’t let Harry forget that.

Harry takes a rattling breath and lays his head on Theo’s shoulder. “No.”

“Trust me, Harry. Think rationally. I’m not going to leave you.”

Harry steps back and looks up at him for a long moment. He’s still frowning, but now he looks intensely thoughtful, and Theo stands still and lets Harry drink him in all he needs to.

Harry finally says softly, “You’ll use any Dark Arts you have to use and murder anyone you have to to come back safe to me, won’t you?”

Theo nods. He would do worse than that to keep Harry safe, but he knows Harry will be intensely unhappy if Theo gets injured, or even if he doesn’t but puts himself in danger to spare Harry danger. So Theo will keep both of them safe. It’s good to know that, to walk into the situation knowing where his lines are drawn with clear eyes. “I promise.”

Harry sighs and leans against him. Theo wraps an arm around his shoulder, and they stand there, swaying a little, until at last Harry draws back and Theo continues putting on his collection of amulets and other defenses.

He’s already outfitted Harry with what Harry will accept and can use. There are a lot of Nott items, though, that will only allow a blood member of the family to wear or use them. Theo will just have to carry them and hope that he can act to save both of them if it comes to that.

If. Malfoy might not attack. Theo doesn’t know exactly what he wants.

At last, half an hour before the meeting time, Theo’s finished. He casts one more spell to still the click of some of the larger amulets that might shift against each other and leads Harry to the fireplace against the far wall of his bedroom.

Harry leans up and kisses him, a soft, lingering kiss.

Theo smiles and gathers up the Floo powder in his hand. He’ll go through the fire first just in case there’s an ambush waiting on the other side. “The Leaky Cauldron!”

*

The Leaky Cauldron lacked anyone who took much of an interest in them—or rather, in Theo, since Harry is wrapped in his Invisibility Cloak and the flames that spat him out probably just looked like ordinary guttering Floo flames to most people. Now Theo walks briskly through Knockturn Alley, shaking his head at a few hags who offer him trays of dubious Potions ingredients, a quarter of his attention focused on Harry walking on Silenced feet at his side.

The rest of his attention is on the wizards and witches around them. Theo hasn’t bothered disguising his face. If someone tries to approach them, better they should know exactly how Theo is smiling.

No one does. They arrive at a bookshop called Amelia’s Ancient Knowledge. The warded area is in the back, and Theo thinks it’s probably the source of most of the bookshop’s income, rather than the books. The front of the shop is dusty and the books on display in the window haven’t changed, to Theo’s recollection, since the last time he was here.

He reaches to the side, as if scratching an itch on his thigh, and brushes his elbow against Harry’s cloaked flank. Harry leans against him for a second, his breath in Theo’s ear.

Reassured that Harry is still there, Theo walks around the side of the shop.

The area in back looks like it was once an alley, but someone has cleaned it up, widened the walls, replaced the stone with dirt that has flowers growing in it, and anchored anti-magic wards to it strong enough to make Theo’s teeth buzz. A thin black gate that looks as if it might be made of Acromantula silk wound around iron blocks off the entrance to the patch, between the walls. As Theo watches, a tall witch steps out of the shop and walks towards him.

Theo raises his eyebrows. The Hogwarts gamekeeper is the only person he’s seen taller than this woman. She has thick black hair, thicker black robes, and a gliding, balanced walk that he’s only seen before on master duelists.

She comes to a halt in front of him and says, “I am Shanara Yewtree, and I am the manager of this garden. What is your name, and why are you here?”

“I was invited here for a meeting by Lucius Malfoy,” Theo says. He speaks slowly and keeps his hands away from his body. He wonders whether it was a mistake to have Harry come under the Cloak, if Yewtree might sense him. But Harry told Theo that his Cloak was a special one and would keep him hidden unless someone had a magical eye like the one Crouch stole from Moody. Theo will just have to trust him. “He specified that it was to be in this garden and to start ten minutes from now.”

“Do you know the rules of this garden?”

“I know that no one can cast a spell once inside it. I know that Lucius Malfoy reserved it for thirty minutes’ time. Other than that, no.”

“You are bound to keep the peace while you are here. When you pass inside the wards, not only does it keep someone from drawing their wand or casting a spell, but it means that they are bound as if with a vow not to hurt the other person or break the peace of the garden.”

“Magically?”

“I do not understand your question. Of course the wards are magic.”

“Sorry, Madam Yewtree. I meant, are we prevented from doing any kind of harm to one another? Or can we still lie and attack each other verbally?”

Yewtree’s eyes widen a little. She studies Theo as if he’s more interesting than she thought, then nods slowly. “Yes, you may attack each other verbally. That is none of my concern, or the garden’s concern. Pain inflicted by wounds and spells is the only kind prevented by the wards.”

“Thank you, Madam.”

After long moments of more consideration, Yewtree steps aside. The gate opens as if swung by a spell Theo can’t sense, and Theo moves forwards and ducks his head a little as he enters it. He can feel Harry practically treading on his heels to follow him inside.

He feels the difference between being inside and outside the wards right away. Crackling lines of magic settle around his body, binding him, tugging him back and forth in subtle ways that have nothing to do with make him sway or wobble. Theo swallows and glances around for a sign of the table that he assumed would be here.

“Here.”

Yewtree gestures him to a black table that seems to be made of ebony, with a set of three chairs around it. It stands near the center of the garden and is surrounded by four clumps of tall blue flowers Theo doesn’t recognize. Theo nods and sits down. “Thank you, Madam,” he repeats.

Yewtree snorts and turns away. “I will have the tea delivered. I hope that you know what you are doing.”

Theo doesn’t offer a reply. After all, he wasn’t the one who chose to meet here. He folds his hands in front of him, and after a moment, a silver tray with a gleaming porcelain tea service on it floats out from the back of the shop.

Harry picks up a slice of lemon from the tray, seeming to make it vanish. Theo smiles a little and settles back in the chair.

Then there is only the waiting.

*

Mr. Malfoy is punctual to his time, striding through the gate of the garden ten seconds, by Theo’s watch, before the meeting is set to begin. Madam Yewtree doesn’t come out to meet Malfoy. Maybe she knows that he’s been here before and assumes he knows the rules.

Theo stands up and bows a little. He can feel Harry shifting behind him, but he says nothing.

“Mr. Nott. I appreciate your willingness to meet me.”

“Of course, sir. I have to admit that you worried me a little with some of your letters, and I’m glad that we’ll get the chance to clear it up in person.”

Malfoy lets his silver-topped cane tap against the earth of the garden as he comes closer. He seems to be leaning on it more heavily than he usually does, but Theo discounts that. After all, that’s probably just a trap.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“No, sir, only ten minutes.”

“Punctual, even early. One might take that as a virtue.”

“One might, sir. But I also think that I have more important virtues.”

Malfoy sighs a little as he settles into the chair across from Theo and reaches immediately for one of the teacups and the milk. Theo half-wishes that he’d thought to ask Madam Yewtree whether the garden would permit its guests to poison each other. “I hope that you won’t take this the wrong way, young Theo, but when I hear you speak, it’s as though your father will come again.”

“Oh, I don’t take that the wrong way, sir.”

Malfoy pauses for the barest moment in the process of pouring his tea. Theo sits back down and turns so that his shoulder brushes against Harry’s. Harry brushes back without even a ripple of light from the Cloak. It really is a remarkable thing.

“To the point, then,” Malfoy says, after sipping from his tea and setting his cup down with a gentle clink. “How many holes are you aware of in your wards?”

“Seven, sir.”

Malfoy sits up, his eyes narrowing. Harry tenses next to him, or so Theo is certain from the way that cloth brushes his elbow. Theo just sits where he is, and smiles placidly when Malfoy hisses like a cat.

“You would do well not to joke, young man.”

“I don’t see how what you asked can possibly be a serious question, sir. Therefore, I think it appropriate to respond with a joke.”

“You know that I said you weren’t in full control of your wards. That is because you are not. If I wanted to, I could storm through the hole and destroy the boy that you’re so proud of twisting around your finger.”

Oh. Threats, then.

Theo sits up a little and smiles. Malfoy’s eyes widen. Theo is giving the smile that he almost never uses, but which has made Draco back down and which Mrs. Longbottom glimpsed before Theo drove her away from the Nott property.

“If you tried,” Theo says softly, “you would die.”

“Threats are not permitted in this garden.”

“I asked Madam Yewtree, and she said they were. It’s magic against someone else that’s not permitted.”

“You are vulnerable. I am trying to help you. I was hoping for an alliance of the kind that I maintained with your late father—”

“I will never enslave myself to Voldemort,” Theo says precisely, and enjoys the way that Malfoy flinches, his hand for a moment hovering over his left arm. “So you’re wasting your time.”

“You young, insolent idiot. Do you think the Dark Lord is to be defied?”

“Of course. I’ve done it. Harry’s done it. Even Black and some of the other people living with me have done it.”

“All of them are the Dark Lord’s enemies or related to his enemies. The insult is different, and greater, when we are talking about the child of one of his Death Eaters. He will come for you, Mr. Nott. I am the only one I know of willing to intercede and become your ally despite that. I only need a few concessions, and I will offer my valuable services as a go-between to make sure the Dark Lord will forgive you.”

“I don’t give a damn what Voldemort wants. I might have given a damn what you want, which is the reason I came to this meeting, but I see that you’re not going to be less cryptic in person. This was a waste of time.”

Theo doesn’t think he’s imagining the trembling sigh of relief from beside him. He stands up and walks towards the entrance of the garden. He knows that Harry is faithfully keeping pace with him, and he’s not worried about an attack from Malfoy at his back, but he’s curious to see what the man will do.

He’s opening the gate before Malfoy calls in a strangled voice, “Wait!”

Got you.

Theo keeps a perfectly bored expression on his face as he turns around. Malfoy is on his feet, his hands clenched and his teeth bared. Theo has seen far worse from his own father, though, and even Pettigrew in the graveyard. He raises his eyebrows.

“I have—memories of the Dark Lord pointing out the holes in the Nott wards,” Malfoy finally mutters. “I am willing to share them with you for a price.”

“What is that price?”

“Harry Potter.”

Theo shakes his head. He regrets it, because Malfoy does sound like he’s telling the truth now and Theo will have to go over the wards even more carefully to make sure that he can find the holes, but there’s no way that he would even pretend to give Harry up. “I don’t think so.”

“Wait.”

Harry is the one who’s speaking. Harry is the one who’s standing next to Theo and taking the bloody Cloak off. Theo spins to face him, his hand clawing, but Harry steps back and shakes his head a little.

And Theo remembers that Harry didn’t make the same kind of promise Theo did, not to put his own life in bloody danger.

“Would you be willing to share those memories if I made the deal with you?” Harry asks, searching Malfoy’s face with his eyes. “If I acted in a way that would benefit your family and place you in higher standing with Voldemort if he ever comes back?”

“Harry.”

Harry kicks Theo’s ankle without taking his gaze from Malfoy. Theo restrains the temptation to kick back. They probably already look childish enough in front of Malfoy.

But for the love of Merlin, this was not the plan.

Malfoy, of course, is smiling now. He inclines his head and taps with his cane as if he’s a harmless old grandfather. “Of course, of course! I understand that I may not be able to get everything I want. Some cooperation on your part would be better than the none I understand now that I’ll get from Mr. Nott.”

Harry nods. “Then let’s do it.”

Theo seizes Harry’s hand where it’s dangling down by his side, out of Malfoy’s sight, and squeezes viciously. Harry flinches a little, but doesn’t turn to look at Theo. He just squeezes back and starts bargaining with Malfoy.

Who’s lying, Theo knows he is, and who will be working as hard as he can to both get the benefits that Harry is haggling over and to hand Harry to Voldemort the instant that he returns.

There’s a reason that this wasn’t in the bloody plan!

But Theo and Harry can’t afford disunity in public, so Theo stands there and smiles and interjects a word now and then to make sure that the bargaining won’t go too badly for Harry, dreaming all the while of the talk he and Harry will have when they get home.

It’s time that Harry understood some things about how he protects Theo.

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry with me.”

“Because it was a stupid thing to do.”

Harry folds his arms. Theo glares at him. They at least didn’t discuss this in front of Malfoy. And Harry managed to play coy and not really promise Malfoy anything except vague “future considerations,” which Theo supposes is as good as he could have hoped for.

But still. He didn’t need to reveal himself at all. He didn’t need to endanger himself.

“I wanted to help.”

Theo stands up from where he’s been sitting on the couch in front of the fire and stares blindly through a window that looks out on the meditation garden. The dark green walls and furnishings around him make him already feel as if he’s standing in the middle of a garden. But Harry’s silent, stubborn presence behind him is like having a fire lit in another hearth.

“I know,” Theo says at last. “But we didn’t discuss that you would do that beforehand, and you put yourself in danger for no good reason.”

“How was I in danger?”

“You told me that Malfoy already tried to curse you once before,” Theo snaps, spinning around. “And that was in Hogwarts, with Dumbledore right there! Why do you think he would have hesitated to do it in another public space? Especially if he could step out of the garden and Apparate immediately afterwards?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “But the rules of the garden meant he couldn’t use magic on me—”

“He could have waited until the end of the time we’d agreed on. He could have asked you to walk with him outside the garden and discuss something sensitive. He could have gambled on the fact that you followed me in under an Invisibility Cloak and we don’t know for sure if the rules would have covered you.” Theo takes a deep, frustrated breath. “I know you wanted to help, Harry. But this is why you should discuss that kind of thing with me in advance.”

Harry stands still, searching Theo’s eyes. Then he turns his head. Theo feels the pressure on the wards at the same moment.

He blinks at Harry. It seems that Harry might have become a little more sensitive to the operations of the Nott wards, which would be an interesting thing to contemplate if it’s true.

“Think that’s Blaise?”

“I don’t see who else it would be.” Theo takes a step towards the door from the green sitting room, and then spins around. “I’m still angry at you.”

“I didn’t give anything away.”

“You didn’t win anything, either. There was no reason to reveal yourself in front of Malfoy, and lots of reasons to stay hidden.”

Harry swallows, but says nothing. Theo waits one more moment, then sighs and leaves the sitting room to greet Blaise and learn how his meeting went.

*

“I think the old man believed I was you.”

Blaise is speaking to Harry, and discreetly ignoring the way that Theo can’t help sitting on the edge of his seat. Or the way he can’t help folding his arms. Theo takes a deep breath and uncrosses his arms.

Blaise turns his head to eye Theo, but continues speaking to Harry. “The first thing he did was ask me if my scar hurt. Then he kept looking at it even when I said it didn’t. And when I asked him why he asked, he just shook his head and smiled at me and said that all would be revealed in time.”

Harry snorts. Blaise grins back at him, a fierce expression that makes Theo realize with a jolt that Blaise enjoyed pretending to be Harry.

“He mostly hinted vaguely, though. That dark times are coming. That I should learn Occlumency, but when I asked why, he shook his head. And I noticed that he didn’t meet my eyes directly at any time.”

“That means he didn’t use Legilimency on you!”

“Well, no, he probably didn’t. But either that means he suspected I wasn’t you, or he has some other reason for not doing it.”

“Did he say anything solid?” Theo asks. He’s starting to feel that both of these conversations were failures, even though Blaise didn’t get caught and Theo and Harry got away cleanly. Vague hints mean nothing.

“One thing, near the end.” Blaise sits up, his face abruptly solemn. “He said that we wouldn’t be able to choose our sides for much longer. I asked what that meant, and he sighed and said, ‘My dear boy, it means that you will not be able to stand at a Slytherin’s side unless you want to fight Gryffindors.’”

Theo laughs. He hasn’t been around Dumbledore often, but it does sound like Blaise has captured the old man’s intonation almost perfectly.

Harry doesn’t laugh. “Do you think he means to force me away from Theo?”

“And me, maybe, if he knows that I’m visiting you.” Blaise leans back and shakes his head. “I said what I thought you’d want me to say, about how Theo was your boyfriend and you trust him, but Dumbledore said, ‘Sometimes the deepest friendships give way to the deepest wounds,’ and left.”

Harry lowers his head. Theo watches him, and so does Blaise. After a moment, though, Blaise shoots a concerned look at Theo and cocks his own head.

Theo shrugs. He doesn’t know exactly what Harry’s thinking, but right now, he doesn’t see any cause for concern.

“I think he does have some plan,” Harry whispers, and sits back up. “He didn’t scold you at all for the pictures of Voldemort in the Prophet?”

Blaise flinches for a moment, then gets himself under control. “He said that they were unnecessary and I should have known better. I told him I did it to help Theo. He just sighed and repeated that it was unnecessary.”

Theo knows what that sounds like to him. Dumbledore was unsuccessful in detaching Theo from Harry’s side last year. Now he appears to have come up with some means to do so. If he thinks it’s “unnecessary” for Theo to be released from prosecution by the Ministry…

Theo doesn’t like to think what that means.

Harry glances at him and reaches out to put his hand on Theo’s arm. “Thank you for helping, Blaise,” he says, not looking away from Theo. “I know you took a risk and it couldn’t have been fun.”

“I thought it was fun, or I wouldn’t have agreed to do it.” Blaise stands up with a small smile. “Now, the really fun thing would be to Polyjuice as you in front of Black and see how long it takes him to realize something is wrong.”

Harry gives a small smile, but it fades almost at once. Blaise seems to realize that the moment isn’t one for joking. He nods to both of them, catches Theo’s eye one moment in a silent stare, and leaves.

Theo snorts. Blaise isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is. Take care of him. Do something.

Yes, Theo knows that he needs to do those things. He doesn’t need Blaise to tell him.

“What?”

Harry has noticed that communication of some kind passed between Theo and Blaise, it seems, although probably not what it meant. Theo turns to Harry and puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “I think Dumbledore is going to try and drive me away from you somehow. Blaise either thinks the same thing or thinks that you’re upset.”

“I am upset. When Dumbledore sent that message that he wanted to see me, I thought…”

“That he really wanted to work with us? That he’d managed to accept your dating a Slytherin?”

Harry sighs unhappily. Theo draws him close and holds him, although he knows that a gesture that simple won’t bring the spark back to Harry’s eyes. “Yes,” Harry mumbles into his shoulder. “I don’t know why that hurts when I’d already accepted that he didn’t want Ron and Hermione writing to me or telling me the truth, but.”

Harry doesn’t finish the sentence. Theo strokes Harry’s shoulder and says nothing. He thinks that Dumbledore means more to Harry than Harry thinks, a hero and symbol of indomitable power. Even if he didn’t get Harry out of the Tournament or rescue Harry from the Chamber of Secrets, he listened to Harry, believed him, and rescued him at the end of his first year. And he provided the hints that let Harry and Granger rescue Black at the end of their third year.

Harry takes betrayal hard.

“I’m sorry for revealing myself to Mr. Malfoy,” Harry whispers. “I thought that there would be a way to manipulate him and make him give up more than he wanted. I thought I was protecting you.”

“It’s all right,” Theo says, and takes a deep breath, and lets his anger go. Holding onto it would be useless when Harry’s apologized. “Just…please don’t do something like that again without warning me.”

“I won’t.”

Well, he can promise that now. Theo isn’t blind to Harry’s impulsiveness. Something like this probably will arise again, and then Harry will apologize and they’ll have to deal with the consequences of it.

But Theo is in love with the person Harry is, not the idealized version it seems the press wants. He will deal with it, and he’ll accept the whole of Harry, the way that Harry is accepting the whole of him.

*

“What do you see?”

“A door.”

Theo flicks his eyes open. He and Harry are sitting in the meditation garden, and Harry is once again concentrating on his Occlumency, breathing slow and deep, his face slack. He hasn’t looked at Theo even though he’s speaking. It’s Theo who’s been startled out of his deep, calm Occlumency, something that hasn’t happened in ages.

Theo closes his eyes promptly and speaks in his same low, droning voice that he’s been using so far. “You see a door. Where is it? What is the material made of?”

“It’s at the end of a long corridor. The corridor is dark, and I can’t see it well. What’s behind the door is important.” A hint of strain enters Harry’s voice that indicates he’s probably losing his hold on his Occlumency. “I don’t know why. I don’t know—what it is.”

Harry opens his eyes with a gasp. “Seeing a vision that way means he’s probably got a body back, doesn’t it?”

Theo nods, because he has to accept that. “It could just be a homunculus body like the one he had before,” he reassures Harry. “If he were back in a real body, I think the connection would be stronger and you’d be seeing more than this.”

“I wish I knew where the bloody door is. Whatever’s behind it, Voldemort really wants it.”

Theo reaches out and gently gathers Harry into his arms. Harry slumps over Theo, but he’s tense and tightly vibrating with frustration. Theo sighs. “We’ll find out eventually. Voldemort can’t conquer us.”

“He’ll keep trying.”

“Let him. He’s an idiot, and he relies on Death Eaters who will either be cowards like Pettigrew or fanatics. We can take both of them.”

“Why are you so certain of that?”

Theo smiles, and he knows it’s his coldest smile, the one he wears whenever memories of dear Father rear their heads. Harry just looks back at him. He isn’t frightened of Theo in any mood. It’s one of the many reasons Theo treasures him. “I listened to Father’s stories all through my childhood. There were no other kinds of Death Eaters.”

Harry nods, his eyes half-closed. Then he sighs, sits back, and starts to say something else, but there’s a hard crash against the wards of the meditation garden. Harry whips around, his wand falling into his hand.

“Harry!”

Theo grimaces. It’s Black, and he sounds unhinged again. Wonderful. But he steps back and shakes his head. Their meditation has been interrupted anyway. Harry still shoots Theo a narrow glance before he walks up to the wards and Theo relaxes them so that Harry can get through.

Black is dancing up and down in human form outside the wards, although he looks only a moment away from transforming into a dog. “Harry! There you are!” He snaps his head around and narrows his eyes as he fixes them on Theo. His upper lip trembles in a snarl. “Stay away from my godson, you monster.”

“Sirius, we’ve been over this—”

“Harry, no! You need to see this!”

Theo expects Black to be waving a letter over his head, but instead, he’s waving what looks like a Potions vial. There’s something sparkling and clear in it. Theo takes a step forwards. If Black has somehow got hold of Veritaserum and intends to force it down Harry’s throat, then Theo will do everything he can to keep Harry free. Including hurting Black.

If he intends to force it down Theo’s throat, he won’t have the opportunity.

“I don’t want to take Veritaserum, Sirius.”

“It isn’t a potion! It’s memories!”

Theo blinks. Technically, one of the safest ways to send memories through the post is in a Potions vial. He just didn’t think that anyone would bother when it came to any memories that could be important to Black. Surely they would have sent them before his trial.

“Sirius—”

“I have a Pensieve!”

Black must have bought it, is all Theo can think, as Black whips it out of his robe pocket and resizes it. He thumps it down in the middle of the grass and dumps the memories from the vial into it. The Pensieve sloshes back and forth for a moment, then stills, and Black begins tugging on Harry’s hand. “Come on, we have to watch—”

“Whose memories are those?” Theo asks.

“Dumbledore’s!”

“The man who thought it would be better for Harry to go back to the Muggles than live with you? That one?”

Black visibly wavers for a moment, but then he bares his teeth, and Theo knows he’s torn out the throat of any common sense he has. “You’re only trying to keep Harry from seeing what you did,” he snaps.

Theo lifts his head. He thinks he may know what this is, but that doesn’t mean that he’s backing down or giving up any kind of claim to Harry. “I’ll go in and view them as well, given that you seem to think they concern me.”

Black smiles grimly. “Maybe it would be best for Harry to see your reaction, at that.”

Theo reaches out and clasps Harry’s hand. It’s waiting for him, and Harry squeezes Theo’s fingers once. Then they’re both moving forwards and plunging head-deep in the Pensieve, rippling colors rising around them as they duck into the basin.

*

Theo knows where he is even before he hears the hoarse cheers ringing out. At the conclusion of the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, when Harry was being bustled away from the Hungarian Horntail to the hospital tent.

“Watch,” Black says, vibrating with hatred. He’d watching Theo instead of the memories, or even Harry. “Watch what he did to your best friend, Harry, and then tell me why you would want to keep him as a boyfriend.”

Harry starts to say something, but then Weasley’s voice speaks up, and he turns around to look. Theo has the perfect perspective, Dumbledore’s perspective from higher up in the stands, to watch himself hit Weasley with the Confundus Charm.

“What?” Harry whispers.

“He wanted to keep Ron from apologizing to you,” Black says, speaking so fast that his words are tripping over each other. He tugs on Harry’s hand, even though the only place for them to go is rapidly fading. Dumbledore’s memory is ending with Theo hurrying to the hospital tent as well. “He wanted to keep you all to himself. He assaulted your best friend. Imagine how much more quickly you would have had Ron back after the Tournament if not for that!”

Harry just shakes his head and turns to face Theo. “Are these memories altered?” he asks. “I don’t know how to watch for that.”

Theo takes a deep breath. It makes a place deep inside of him warm that that would be the first conclusion Harry would come to. “No,” he admits. “I did hit Weasley with the Confundus Charm like that, on that day.”

Harry swallows. Then he says, “Why?”

“Because he was being an idiot,” Theo says. It won’t win him any points to say that he still thinks Weasley is an idiot now. Besides, Harry knows he thinks that. “And because I knew that if he just apologized, then he’d also rant about Slytherins, and he would turn you against me, and I’d lose you.”

“You—you thought I’d give up on someone who supported me during the Tournament when almost no one else did? Theo.”

There are harmonics of disappointment in Harry’s words that sting all down Theo’s spine and strike into places in his soul that he thought he didn’t have anymore. But he just meets Harry’s eyes and said, “Yes. We’d only been friends for a few weeks. Maybe not even that. You and Weasley were friends for three years. Yes, I thought I’d lose you.”

“Lose the chance to manipulate you, Harry! Lose the chance to manipulate you!” Black is once again hopping up and down, pointing straight at Theo. It seems they’re in the midst of another memory now, one where Theo is sneering at Weasley and Granger across the Great Hall, but Theo doesn’t care. He only has eyes for Harry. “You have to see that!”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Confundus Charm later on?” Harry asks.

“Because I thought the same thing would happen. You would turn against me.”

“So you were—manipulating me to try and remain close to me.”

“Yes.”

It’s strange. Theo thought that if this moment ever came, he would be spinning and spiraling into panic, sure that he would lose Harry forever. But instead, he feels calm. Not happy, but calm.

He thinks he already knows what the outcome will be.

Harry breathes out and then abruptly jerks himself backwards and out of the memories. Theo didn’t know he knew how to do it. Of course, Theo follows.

They’re in the middle of the gardens again, and Harry is watching Theo with thoughtful, darkened eyes as he says, “I need some time to think about this. At least two hours. Give me that, okay?” He’s speaking directly to Theo, who links his hands together behind his back so that no one can see his whitened knuckles and nods.

“Harry! Why do you need time to think? Let’s go!”

“I need time to think,” Harry repeats, and turns to face Black this time. “Free from everyone, Sirius. You and Theo and everyone else here.” And he turns and marches away, in the direction of his bedroom.

Left alone, Black blinks for a moment and then turns to face Theo. “Do you think he’ll choose you after everything?”

Theo smiles, and watches Black recoil from the smile. Then he turns away. Black isn’t worth answering.

He will wait. And he will do whatever Harry needs him to do, including apologizing to Weasley.

But in his heart, he thinks he knows what the decision will be.

Chapter Text

“Is there a reason that you’re sitting there and reading the Quidditch statistics when I know that you don’t care about them?”

“You never know,” Theo says with deliberate casualness, looking down at a picture of Gwenog Jones grinning at the camera. One of her teammates stands behind her, her arm wrapped around Jones’s shoulders. “Maybe a Quidditch player will be a useful connection if that’s what Harry wants to go into.”

“He’ll come back to you, Theo.”

Theo feels himself flushing, and glares at Blaise. “I never doubted it.”

“Really. So that’s why you’re looking at something you don’t care about and some of the magazines here are all shredded.” Blaise nods around the library that the Notts have used as an archive for decades, his eyebrows rising. Then he takes a seat in the blue chair across from Theo and stares at him.

“I can’t—influence his decision.”

“No, you can’t. Because you already have.”

“What?”

“Because you’ve already been the best ally and friend and boyfriend and lover he could ask for. Harry would be stupid if he deserted you because of something his dear idiot of a godfather said. And I never thought Harry was an idiot except when I was hearing second-hand stories of his death-defying exploits.”

Theo lets his head fall back against the chair behind him and closes his eyes. It’s been three hours since Harry went up to his room to contemplate things. The only pleasure Theo’s had since then has been the yelp and thump that followed Black’s attempt to get past the wards on Harry’s room.

He knows Harry will come back to him. Of course he knows that. He knows it the way he knows his last name and that his father was a bastard. He just didn’t think it would take even three hours. Half an hour, maybe.

But it’s been three.

Blaise’s hand falls on his shoulder and grips, hard, for a long second. Theo turns his head towards Blaise and lets his cheek touch the back of Blaise’s hand for a moment. It will say all they cannot say and would be advised not to say.

“He’ll come back,” Blaise says, and then his footsteps sound, quietly retreating.

Theo stares at the ceiling and breathes.

*

“Theo?”

It feels like the voice Theo has been waiting for all his life, and also like one that hasn’t come soon enough. He hurts his ankle by banging it against the side of the chair as he scrambles out of his seat and around.

Harry is standing in the doorway of the sitting room. He holds out his hands and smiles.

Theo manages not to run to Harry. He thinks. He’s not paying that much attention to what he’s doing himself. Most of his attention is trained on Harry, who smiles more widely at him and holds his hands so tight when Theo gets there that it—

Theo doesn’t know what it does. He just knows that he’s standing there and Harry is smiling and not yelling at him. So.

“I want to make it clear that this is not permission to cast the Confundus Charm on Ron or Hermione again,” Harry says, quietly and firmly. “You shouldn’t have done it, Theo. And I would ask you to apologize, except that I know you’re not actually sorry.”

“I could pretend to be sorry if it would make you feel better.”

“No. I’ve thought very carefully about how I feel, and I already talked to Sirius about it. Specifically, how it makes me feel to know that he’s accepting post-owls from Dumbledore.”

Theo nods slowly. He didn’t think about that.

“But you did what you thought was best, because at the time we didn’t have any deeper connection than your helping me with the Tournament in the library for a few weeks. And you really did think Ron would abandon me if I took him back again.”

“I would do it again.”

The diplomatic thing would be to keep quiet and agree to whatever Harry is saying and then just do it again in the future if he feels he needs to. But Theo knows that only honesty will work, especially if Black uses this to try and turn Harry against Theo again.

(Who is Theo kidding? It’s not an if.)

“I know you would.” Harry sighs, staring at him. “Because you’re the sort of person who would also fall in love with me in the course of a few months, and do anything to protect me, and let me stay in your house for the summer, and point Sirius to Mind-Healing because you know that he’s important to me, and welcome Ron and Hermione for my sake even though you dislike them. I—that’s the kind of person you are, Theo. I can’t separate the rest of you from the impulse that made you hit Ron with the Confundus Charm. I don’t want to try.”

Theo swallows down the impulse to say it wasn’t an impulse. It really was, in the sense that he hadn’t planned on it beforehand.

“But like I said, that doesn’t mean it’s permission for you to do that.”

Theo relaxes with a smile of his own. “And Black agrees?”

“I already spoke to Sirius, about this and about his tendency to blame you in general. Don’t worry. He’ll probably avoid looking you in the eye or even talking to you for quite a while.”

“And when he does?”

“I’ll be there.”

Theo hasn’t let himself trust many people in his life. According to ties of family and pureblood standards, his father should have been the one he could confide in the most, and look what kind of man he was. But for a moment, he lets himself balance on the assurance in Harry’s voice and close his eyes, full of sweet relief.

*

“What’s the spell to make a letter a Howler?”

Theo and Blaise have been discussing how to help Mrs. Zabini take over parts of the Ministry that won’t be immediately noticeable (honestly, it’s a discussion about who to bribe), and both look up and blink at Harry’s question.

Harry is holding a thick fold of parchment, and his eyes are flat. He looks politely enough back and forth between Blaise and Theo, though, which makes Theo hope that the Howler isn’t destined for anyone here.

(Not that it wouldn’t be funny to watch one explode in Black’s face).

“I can teach it to you,” Blaise says slowly. “I’ve never used it myself, but my mother has, and I’ve watched her. But why do you need to send it? The papers are swinging back and forth between vilifying you and believing you about the Dark Lord right now. Do you want to—”

“It’s going to Dumbledore.”

Theo laughs.

“It still might not be the right move politically,” Blaise says, for all that the way his eyes sparkle says he agrees with Theo about how funny it would be. “If it reaches him in public, and he joins the vilification team.”

“I don’t care where it reaches him or who witnesses it or if it’s on the front page of the Prophet tomorrow. All that matters is that he knows I won’t tolerate him trying to turn my godfather against Theo.”

“I don’t think he’ll join any public movement against Harry,” Theo says, and Blaise raises an eyebrow. “He wants to control him too badly. Isolate him and convince Harry he’s the only trustworthy person in the world. He’ll probably shake his head and cluck his tongue if anyone witnesses the Howler and say something about how Harry’s a dear boy who’s been under too much stress, and then use that as part of his campaign.”

“Well, that’s a reason not to do it, then.”

“You’re the voice of reason, Blaise, and your reason has been noted.” Harry shifts a little, and Theo wonders if he’s grown that much taller with companionship and good food or if it’s just Harry using his new seriousness. “I still need you to teach me the Howler spell.”

Blaise looks at Theo as if thinking he might have a different idea, but Theo just shakes his head. He’s willing to give Harry advice, but also follow along when it’s necessary, and it looks like it is this time.

Blaise heaves a huge sigh and stands up. “All right, let’s go into the cellars so we can practice with an ordinary letter first. We don’t want to alarm anyone when it starts shouting.”

Harry smiles. “Thanks, Blaise.”

Blaise only shakes his head as he follows Harry. He seems to think that this is going to be a huge disaster, but he’ll do it anyway.

Theo is smiling as he turns back to his book. Harry has that effect on people.

*

“You could say it, you know.”

Theo doesn’t look up, but he can feel Lupin’s stare from the other side of the table. But he still doesn’t say anything. Theo tucks a scone into his mouth and chews, then frowns and sits back in his chair. “Cassie!”

With a shimmer of air, his house-elf appears in front of him. “Master Theo is being testy.”

“These scones taste like you made them with sawdust. Why is that?”

“Cassie is thinking Master Theo should eat healthier.”

Theo massages the space between his eyes with one hand, while Lupin watches in bewilderment. Sometimes Cassie gets this idea into her head, but most of the time, she manages good food while also making what’s healthy. “Use the good ingredients, please.”

“The good flour is being more expensive.”

“We aren’t hurting for Galleons, Cassie.”

They spend a long moment in a staring contest, before Cassie sighs and pops away again. Theo shakes his head and returns to sipping his pumpkin juice, which at least Cassie hasn’t messed with. She thinks that’s healthy enough.

“No one watching you interact with your house-elf would think…”

Theo looks up at Lupin with a smile that he deliberately makes thin. “What? That I killed my father?”

Lupin flinches and nearly knocks over his teacup. Then he sits back and folds his arms. Theo sees his hands still trembling and shakes his head. No one would ever guess Lupin was a werewolf going purely on stereotypical behavior. “I was going to say ‘raised by a Death Eater,’ but yes, we can talk about how you killed your father.”

“Let’s not,” Theo says pleasantly. “I meant what I said earlier. You can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, instead of staring at me out of the corner of your eye and starting guiltily when I look at you.”

“I do not—”

“You do. It’s annoying. Come on, ask it.”

“Very well. Do you think that allowing Harry to scold Sirius was the best idea? It’s put Sirius behind in his Mind-Healing, and he didn’t proactively contact Dumbledore and ask for memories that would make Harry doubt you, after all.”

“Allowing Harry. Interesting choice of words.”

“You know that you’re in charge of him.”

Theo begins laughing much the way he did when he heard about Harry sending a Howler to Dumbledore. Except it’s stronger this time, without a Harry in the room to impress, so he ends up sliding down in his chair and howling so hard that his chest hurts. Lupin sits there and stares at him in more bewilderment.

Theo sits up and shakes his head. “If you still think that, then it explains some of Black’s misconceptions, too. If anyone is in charge here, Harry is. Or do you think that I would have adopted a bunch of random people who wanted to come shelter in my house? Do you think that I would have allowed Weasley and Granger to see him ever again?”

“They’re his friends.”

“Yes, and they’ve proven that they can apologize and be loyal. But if I was in charge of Harry, they never would have seen him again, because I think that he’s put up with enough of their histrionics and disloyalty. And you and Black wouldn’t be here.”

Lupin folds his arms. “You—you know very well that Sirius spent years in prison—”

“Yes, and part of that was because of the incompetence of the justice system, which includes Dumbledore. You think he would have learned to distrust the Headmaster by now.”

“He was very young when he went to Azkaban—”

“Harry is younger. So am I.”

Lupin stares down at the surface of the table. Theo just watches him, offering no help. Honestly, he thinks that Harry could do better for a mentor than Lupin, just as he could do better for an adult to cling to than Black.

But that’s not Theo’s decision. It’s people like Dumbledore, and presumably Lupin and Black, who want to make those choices for Harry. All Theo can do is support Harry when he makes different ones.

Lupin finally swallows and says, “I’ll talk to Sirius.”

“You do that.”

*

“Are you sure that you want me to come with you?” Theo asks Longbottom, as they stand together in front of the Floo. “Not Harry?”

“Harry would—I don’t know that he would—”

Words are getting stuck in Longbottom’s throat. Theo stands and waits with an iron patience, and Longbottom finally forces them out. “Harry might feel that I should go live with my Gran again because she’s my family, and he thinks family is really important. You killed your dad. You won’t feel that way.”

Theo doesn’t think that Harry will feel that way, not after what Mrs. Longbottom tried to do to Theo when she came to the house, but he’s also glad that Harry agreed to stay firmly behind the Nott wards today. He shakes his head. “I’ll do whatever I need to do so you feel supported.”

“You would do anything like that for one of Harry’s friends.”

“Yes.” Even for Granger and Weasley, if Theo had to. Even for Black. Then again, he’s already done plenty of things for Black, who’s just ungrateful. He hopes that Longbottom knows better than that.

“I think the world should be relieved Harry’s got you on a leash,” Neville mutters, tossing some powder into the flames.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Theo rolls his eyes and follows.

*

“I have come to retrieve my grandson. There is no reason for him to stay with Nott. There are no relatives living in that house. In fact, Neville doesn’t have any relatives except me, his parents, and his Uncle Algie.”

Theo leans back against his chair and watches Mrs. Longbottom with lazy eyes. They’re discussing what Neville’s future should be in a room spelled with Mediation Charms, which mean that no one can get too angry and no one can attack each other. Mrs. Longbottom is saying, in a flat voice, what she actually believes.

It still doesn’t mean that she should get to take Neville away just because she wants to.

“Mrs. Longbottom,” says Auror Tonks, sitting on the side of the table where Neville is shaking in his own seat, “do you remember that you cast a curse at Theodore Nott that could have severely injured him? Do you remember that your grandson fled to Nott of his own free will?”

“It doesn’t matter. He should come home. He doesn’t have a reason to stay—”

“I invited him,” Theo says, glad that his state of mind goes along with the Mediation Charms. He wouldn’t get angry about this even if everything were normal. Mrs. Longbottom is pathetic, and she’s going to lose. “That’s enough reason for him to stay.”

“It’s reason enough for him to come home, if he’s a guest in someone else’s home. Longbottoms are not guests.”

“I don’t feel s-safe going back to Gran,” Longbottom announces. His voice is trembling in a way that would sound pathetic to Theo most of the time, and maybe the other people in the room, but right now it serves the purpose. If he can feel like that even through the Mediation Charms, it shows how afraid he is of his grandmother. “I w-want to stay with Theo.”

“You do know that he was a Death Eater’s son?” asks one of the other Aurors at the table. He introduced himself as Auror Fitzwilliam at the beginning of the hour and has done nothing but glare at Theo with cold eyes ever since. Theo has his doubts about how well the Mediation Charms took with him.

“Was.”

“What?”

“His father was a Death Eater. Now he’s not. And now Theo is safe. I want to go home.”

“We can go home, Neville, just as soon as—”

“I mean, I want to go h-home to Nott House.” Neville stands up, and there’s a defiant courage in his eyes that Theo can’t help but admire. “I want to go home and not be told that I’m not a shining example like my p-parents, and not have anyone yell at me because I w-want to spend time in the greenhouses. I’m not an Auror! I’m a gardener!”

“You can be an Auror,” Mrs. Longbottom snaps, and it sounds like she’s broken past the Mediation Charms that were cast on her. Theo sighs a little. He could have told the Aurors that would happen. “As soon as you get past these silly notions of—”

“I don’t want to be!”

The room abruptly rocks, the polished panels on the walls banging together and some of the portraits crying out. Theo hears hissed complaints that the Mediation Charms should make accidental magic impossible. He turns around and shakes his head at the Aurors.

“He’s terrified of his grandmother. Yes, accidental magic is unusual at his age and with the amount of magic on this room, but it’s not unusual when you consider that he would be forced back into an abusive environment. What’s the harm in allowing him to come home with me? I’m under more scrutiny than usual because Harry Potter is also living with me. It will be fine.”

Maybe the Aurors are just relieved that there’s one person whose Mediation Charms are working the way they’re supposed to, or maybe it’s Theo’s cool, emotionless argument, but they agree quickly. Neville and Theo are bundled back through the Floo, while the Aurors move in on an increasingly upset Mrs. Longbottom.

“I’m s-sorry.”

Theo blinks and looks up, still trying to find his mental balance from the charms that ended abruptly when he stepped back through the Floo. “What are you sorry for?”

“That I said I wanted to stay here. I know I’m a burden—”

“You’re not a burden. You’re Harry’s friend.”

“And yours?”

Theo would hesitate, but he can just picture the way Neville’s face will crumple if he does that. He doesn’t want to deal with tears. He nods. “Of course.”

Neville flings his arms around Theo. Theo stands there and stares straight ahead, then resorts to patting vaguely at Neville’s back. Neville pulls away, wipes his face with one hand, and retreats.

Theo does the same, all the way up to his room. Then he stands there and stares vaguely at the walls, wondering, What in Merlin’s name just happened?

Chapter Text

“You’re ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Theo carefully looks Harry over, while Harry rolls his eyes to tell Theo how unnecessary he thinks this is. But he’s not the one who will be gripping his wand the whole way, ready to respond with violence to anyone who comes close to Harry.

Harry has a Portkey in the form of a button on his robes that should prevent people from noticing it, a protective amulet around his wrist that can deflect simple hexes, and a few cuff bracelets that can be worn by people not from the Nott family that will warn him of things like strangers approaching him with hostile intent. He won’t accept anything more, and Theo has to admit that at some point, he would start clanking when he moved.

“No one is going to try and do anything.”

“Really? We know that Voldemort has a body of some kind back, and you don’t think he’ll try anything after that story you put in the papers about him?”

Harry leans forwards and lets his forehead rest against Theo’s. Theo’s breath shortens at the intimacy of it, especially since they’re standing near the open doorway of Harry’s bedroom, where anyone could see them.

Although not without triggering the proximity wards and alarms Theo has set up, admittedly.

“I don’t think that a strike in broad daylight in Diagon Alley is his style,” Harry whispers, leaning close enough that his breath slides over Theo’s lips like a kiss. “Especially since we’ve deprived him of three of his Death Eaters.”

“That might only make him angrier.”

“If you thought there was a real risk, you would be insisting we stay home today.”

Theo grimaces, but nods. He does think that Harry’s argument that he can’t just hide in Nott House forever and needs to be seen by his “adoring” public has merit, but he would have no problem raising the war wards if he didn’t.

“So we should go and get our school supplies, and we should meet up with Ron and Hermione to show them that I’m not a prisoner in your dungeons.”

“Would you like that?”

Harry shivers, which was…not the reaction Theo expected to that taunt. Then he pulls away from Theo and clears his throat. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

“Having trouble walking?”

Harry shoots him a glare in the mirror and adjusts the cuff bracelets around his wrists again, then shakes his robe sleeves over them. Theo approves of his caution. No need to warn people that Harry is carrying extra forms of protection.

Theo wears short sleeves, though, with his wand in its holster strapped to his arm and his own bracelets—of a more proactive nature than Harry’s—on prominent display. If someone wants to fuck him with him and Harry, even seeing how Theo guards himself, then they are perfectly welcome to do so.

“I notice that you didn’t give Neville any of these—things.”

“I offered. He declined. And so did Black,” Theo adds, before Harry can ask about that. “I believe there was a certain amount of yelling about how I wanted to corrupt him by putting Dark artifacts on him involved.”

“Sirius is trying.”

“I know. I wouldn’t kick him out of the house if he wasn’t, unless he was distressing you, but I would be taking steps to ensure that he couldn’t interfere.”

Harry abruptly spins away from Theo, facing the mirror again and adjusting his sleeves and hems even though they don’t need it. Theo blinks at his back. “What?”

“You need to stop saying things like that.”

“Because they make you angry?”

“Because they make me hard, Theo.”

Harry lifts his head, and Theo is the one who catches his breath and stares at the shimmering reflection of his eyes. He’s the one who gets hard then, and Harry gives him a sweet little smile and turns around to walk out the door of the bedroom.

Theo ends up casting a charm that deflates his erection before he can follow. Harry is waiting at the top of the stairs, although he begins walking down them before Theo can even catch up. Theo is left to helplessly watch his arse move.

From the smile he catches a glimpse of on Harry’s face, Harry knows perfectly well how he’s affecting Theo.

Merlin, I love him.

Theo also wants Harry, but that will just have to wait a while. On the other hand…

He almost hopes that someone comes up to Harry in Diagon Alley to try and catch his arm or yell in his face, now. He’d love to make Harry hard again when he fights them.

*

“We should get lots of parchment! And planners! This is our OWL year!”

Theo holds back a sigh. Harry wanted to meet up with Weasley and Granger in the Alley, and what Harry wants, Harry gets, as far as Theo is concerned. But Granger appears to have lost her mind even though the OWL exams are ten months away, and she’s adding significantly more items to their shopping list than Theo originally planned on.

Well, they have the time. Theo is only concerned about how more and more stares turn their way the longer they spend in Diagon.

He might get that chance to show off in front of Harry after all.

Whispers course after them as they visit the shops, buy their books, acquire new robes, and linger outside Quality Quidditch Supplies until the force of Blasting Curse Granger drives them on. Theo sees that most of the glances are unfriendly. Even if people like Harry generally, they’re suspicious about him living with a Death Eater’s son and splashing that story of Voldemort’s return all over the papers.

And, of course, we can’t forget that they thought him a cheater just months ago.

Theo finds himself stalking alongside Harry with his mouth slightly open and his hand on his wand. He does his best to mute both signals, not because he’s worried about frightening someone else but because they might give an attacker too much warning that Theo is on high alert.

It’s as they’re entering the apothecary Theo favors, the Silver Cauldron, that the approach happens.

Harry jerks to the side, one arm rising. One of the bracelets that warns him of people with hostile intent must be trembling. Theo spins smoothly into a battle position, crouched so that he presents a smaller target, and raises a Dome Shield around all of them.

A slender witch with long blonde curls stops, her eyes growing wide, as she stares at the shimmering silver shield around Harry, Theo, Neville, Black, Lupin, Luna, Granger, and Weasley. Then she swallows. “I—what is this?”

“You were approaching Harry with hostile intent,” Theo says. She flinches at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t care. “You can leave, or you can make a fuss. But either way, you aren’t going to touch him.”

“I just—I just wanted to know if it was true that he’s taken up with a Death Eater’s son.”

“Who are you and why should I care about your opinion?”

Oh, no. It turns out that Harry drawling like he’s Draco Malfoy—but hotter than Draco could ever be—makes Theo react the way Harry did to the mention of Theo attacking people.

“I’m a Muggleborn. You’re supposed to fight for people like me! If you’re dating a Death Eater’s son, then you’ve turned against us! You’re a bigot just like he is!”

A huge murmur of agreement comes from the crowd around them. Theo can imagine Harry being intimidated by that last year, but this time, he just rolls his eyes. “And you’re probably some of the same people who thought I put my name in the Goblet of Fire and I was the Heir of Slytherin in second year. I don’t care about people like you. You’ll believe anything of me you like, anything you read in the papers. I’ll spend my time with the people who actually trust and believe in me, thanks.”

“Harry,” Granger says softly. “Maybe you should—”

“No.” Harry doesn’t say that loudly, but he says it sharply enough to make Granger pause. “No matter what I say, they’ll doubt me, so why should I say anything? Theo is the one who gave me a home and fought for me against Voldemort.” He ignores the wave of shrieks that name produces, too. “So I’ll defend him.”

“You’re a bigot!”

“You’re an idiot.”

The witch who was approaching Harry appears stumped now, but her face is violently flushed, and Theo doesn’t trust the way her hands keep straying near her wand. “You’re supposed to be a hero,” she says, her voice small and hurt. “My fellow Hufflepuffs told me all about you. How you fought for Muggleborns.”

“I was one when Voldemort came and tried to kill me! And in the times that I’ve fought him since, it just makes people hate and doubt me. So you can bugger off.”

The witch’s mouth falls open this time. She seems to try and think of words that will convince Harry, but maybe she knows that nothing will. She shakes her head and steps back into the crowd with a little flounce of her robes.

Theo doesn’t think she carries it off.

He keeps the shield up while the crowd shifts back and forth, obviously trying to decide what they should do now that Harry hasn’t bowed and scraped to them. Harry glares impassively at the lot of them, then yawns.

“I want to go get our Potions supplies,” he says, turning to Theo. “If I’m going to do well in Potions this year no matter what Snape thinks, then I’ll need good ones, and you said this shop was the best.”

“I certainly think so, Mr. Potter.”

Theo watches the figure who’s stepped out of the Silver Cauldron for a long moment, but it does appear to be the owner, Pearl Hopelight. She’s a tall witch with long white hair that moves around her like a thestral’s mane and cadaverous features. Theo would think her a vampire, except that he’s seen her too many times in the sunlight for that.

“Who are you?”

“The owner of this fine establishment.”

“Oh, Madam Hopelight?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter.” Hopelight smiles, backing towards the shop and gesturing at the entrance with a sweeping, circling hand. “I am gratified to find that Mr. Nott has spoken of me.”

“Yeah, he did.”

Granger, Weasley, and Black appear a little worried about the way that Hopelight looks, and Lupin is audibly sniffing the air, but Theo ignores them. Harry tramps towards the shop, unafraid, and Theo finally drops the shield and follows him.

His back feels as if it’s alight with sparks, waiting for a more violent attack from behind, but nothing happens. Maybe the people who are waiting now lost all their courage because of Harry’s dismissal of the Hufflepuff witch.

The inside of the Silver Cauldron smells the same as it always does, a combination of sweet dust, iron, and blood. Theo draws it in and smiles, then steps up to Harry’s side as he feels Hopelight watching him.

“It is always good to see those who have chosen each other so thoroughly.”

Hopelight’s mouth is slightly open, her nostrils moving. Theo can see the dart of a tongue inside her mouth he’s reasonably sure is forked. He inclines his head to her in respect. Maybe she’s not a vampire—probably not—but she’s still a predator of a kind. “Yes, Madam.”

“How long have you known Theo? Can you tell me any secrets about him?”

Hopelight turns and stares at Harry in what seems to be astonishment, while Theo’s face burns brightly. Then Hopelight laughs in a way that sounds like the scratching of claws down a blackboard at Hogwarts. “I can tell you that he was a little killer in waiting from the first day that he stepped in here.”

“What!” Granger, of course.

“Yes,” Hopelight says dreamily, her tongue darting out again, as if she’s feasting on memories. “I knew right away that he would kill to defend what and whom he loved, but he did not appear to love anything at the time.”

Theo manages to keep his blush from taking over his face this time as Black and Lupin and Weasley and Granger all stare at him with varying degrees of horror. They’re either capable of that kind of violence themselves, or they are weak.

Either way, Theo owes them nothing, any more than Harry owed the crowd outside.

“Harry, are you sure—”

“Yes, Hermione, I’m sure.”

“I wish that we could be as sure, mate,” Weasley says unhappily, eyes on Theo. “That’s all.”

“Theo won’t hurt anyone I like,” Harry says, and winks at them, and turns away to walk further into the Silver Cauldron. Theo follows him, noticing with some entertainment that Weasley is muttering under his breath.

“What if you stop liking us?”

Theo can’t imagine any world in which Harry would stop liking Weasley and Granger, unless they betrayed him completely. But it will provide Weasley and Granger with some interesting things to worry about.

Quickly enough, the atmosphere of the apothecary wraps around them, and Theo forgets to listen for taunting material. He’s not interested in Potions as a Hogwarts subject, the constant instructions and recipes and demands that they brew precisely to those things, but for the potential that he can glimpse in places like this. He gathers up a bronze cauldron, an array of new knives, and a handful of glistening hair that makes Granger gasp.

“That’s unicorn hair!”

“Yes, Granger? You know that people use it. Probably some people you know have a unicorn hair in their wands.”

“But it brings a curse if it’s not willingly given!”

“This was willingly given,” Hopelight says, popping up near the shelf and making Granger flinch and stumble back. “There are some unicorns who grow so old that they will die of age. They are not immortal, you know. But they like to preserve the fiction that they are, and so they go out of sight of the herd and call me. They give me the hair and other ingredients, as well, in exchange for keeping their deaths private.”

Granger stares at Hopelight as if not knowing whether to believe her. Theo smirks and uses the moment of distraction to grab a vial of unicorn blood. He can think of all kinds of uses for that, and it doesn’t matter that it’s expensive, not when he has the weight of all the Nott Galleons behind him now.

“Not really,” Granger says at last.

“Miss Granger, what do you think I am?”

“I never told you my name!”

“All who pass the threshold of my shop reveal their names to me.”

For all Theo knows, that’s true, but Granger seems to have forgotten that he called her by name just a minute ago, and Hopelight would have heard.

Theo shakes his head and slips away into the shelves, where he finds Harry hesitating before a cauldron as silver as moonlight. “Why not get it?” he asks softly.

Harry jumps, then laughs a little. “I was just thinking—it’s expensive, and I only have one more year of Potions left. Is it really worth the purchase?”

“What do you mean, one more year of Potions?”

“How likely do you think it is that I’ll get into Snape’s NEWT class, Theo, really?”

Theo frowns and leans around Harry. Harry has a dull, accepting expression on his face. It’s different from the kind of expression he wore when the school turned against him last year, which just said that’s what he expects. This time, Theo can tell Harry has no intention to struggle through and win.

“I promise that you will.”

“I don’t think even you can threaten Snape into accepting me into his NEWT Potions class with less than an Outstanding, Theo.”

“I think I can do something other than threaten,” Theo says, and smiles. And yes, this was nothing more than a fleeting idea, but they’re in an apothecary, which means he can buy all the ingredients he needs for the potion.

“What are you thinking?”

“Persuasion.”

Harry narrows his eyes, but before he can ask the obvious question, Neville calls him from further into the shop. “Hey, Harry, do you think you can help me choose a cauldron?”

This isn’t over, Harry mouths at Theo, but he walks over to help Neville. Theo shakes his head. Harry doesn’t know much about cauldrons. Neville probably asked him just because Harry is his friend and he values his friend’s opinions.

Theo is proud of himself for understanding that much.

He turns around and nearly runs into Luna, who is staring at him with bright eyes. “You have unicorn blood,” she says.

“Yes.”

“Unicorn blood is used for some very rare and expensive potions.”

“Yes, it is.”

For a moment, they stand there like that, with Luna beaming at Theo and Theo waiting for her to get to the point, and then Luna looks down at the floor of the shop and sighs a little. “Could I have some of it?”

“I’ll give you the Galleons for it, but you have to choose the vial for yourself,” Theo says. “That’s what my father taught me, and amazingly, some of his teachings are true.”

“Oh.” Luna considers that, eyes wide in a manner that makes some of the silver light shimmering around them reflect in odd ways. “Why do you have to choose a vial for yourself? And is it unicorn blood, or all ingredients?”

“It’s all ingredients that could bring a curse with them, and you have to choose them for yourself because that’s the only way to tell if they will harmoniously blend with your magic. Go and choose the best vial. It’s dangerous working with cursed ingredients, as well, so you’ll want to be absolutely sure that you’re not choosing a cracked vial.”

“Or one that doesn’t harmonize with my magic. Very well, Theo.”

Luna bounces off. Theo rolls his eyes a little and goes up to the counter to pay for his own ingredients.

Hopelight is watching him much the way Luna did, except with the focus of a predator instead of a strange person. “You have many more friends and companions than you did the last time I saw you, Mr. Nott.”

Considering that Theo has been to the Silver Cauldron exclusively alone for years, that isn’t difficult. But he nods, admitting the justice of Hopelight’s observation.

“I hope that you will not base your morality on theirs.”

Theo smiles a little. “There are things I wouldn’t do because Harry wouldn’t like them, but I would snap even that chain if it meant that I was defending his life.”

“Ah. Then you have not changed so much?”

“I have learned some things. But I have not changed in my essence.”

Hopelight doesn’t take her eyes from Theo as she takes the Galleons for his cauldron, the unicorn hair and blood, and his other ingredients. “I hope you have not. I hope you will not. It is so unusual for me to recognize my kin among humans that I am not anxious to see you change.”

Theo pauses, then inclines his head. He doesn’t think that means he will turn into whatever kind of creature Hopelight is. It’s more that she recognizes another predator, another ruthless creature who can taste blood and tastes of it.

Who will kill if need be.

“Thank you,” Theo says, and steps aside to wait for the others.

Neville, who’s found a cauldron that seems to satisfy him. Luna, who ignores the way that some of the others look wide-eyed at her vial of unicorn blood. Black and Lupin, whispering furiously. Granger, who has a single jar of beetle eyes and a frightened expression. Weasley, who is watching Theo with a strategist’s face.

Harry, who bought the silver cauldron after all, along with a handful of unicorn hair and a book that talks about spells useful in Potions.

Theo smiles. Harry matters the most out of all of them, although Theo will protect the others because it’s what Harry would want.

But if someone else betrays Harry, turns against him, tries to join Dumbledore’s side fully because they’re convinced it’s the best thing to do…

They will welcome death when I’m done with them.

Chapter Text

“Why are you burning that letter, Theo?”

Theo looks up. It’s Harry, of course, because he’s the only one who can enter Theo’s bedroom without provoking some kind of alarm. “Because it’s from Dumbledore. He wants me to meet with him.”

Harry stares at him with his mouth open.

Theo nods, and finishes burning the letter, dusting ash off his hands with a few quick motions of his fingers.

Harry abruptly bursts into laughter, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees while his shoulders shake.

Theo smiles at him. It’s good to see Harry looking calmer and more cheerful than he has for the last while. On one hand, he’s making progress on Occlumency and managing to shut out some of the dreams Voldemort is sending him. On the other hand, as the time draws nearer when they need to go back to Hogwarts, Theo knows that he’s worrying more about what Dumbledore will do, where Black will live while they aren’t at Theo’s house, how the students will react to Harry spreading the truth about that night in the graveyard, and many other things.

Theo can’t ease all those fears, as much as he’d like to try, but at least he knows that he can keep Harry amused.

“What in the world do you think he thought he’d get out of it?” Harry asks at last, straightening and wiping some moisture from his mirth-bright eyes.

“Now, my dear boy, I must implore that you give up fucking Harry Potter for the good of the world,” Theo says, in his best imitation of the Headmaster.

Harry once again bursts into laughter, so uninhibited and free and beautiful that Theo doesn’t think twice about crossing the small distance between them. He reaches out and puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

Harry at once leans up and kisses him. Theo kisses back, hands dancing down Harry’s chest to the buttons of his robes.

Harry takes a sharp gasp against him. Theo stills at once. “Are you all right?”

“We haven’t—we’ve never really taken off our robes before.”

Theo raises his eyebrows, but when he thinks about it, it’s true. He and Harry have touched each other’s cocks, but only through a thin layer of cloth or with robes pulled back and pants lowered.

“I’d like to see you less clothed than that,” Theo says steadily, his eyes on Harry’s. “But I’m also fine with waiting if you feel uncomfortable.”

Harry leans towards him and gives him a kiss so soft that it feels like wings darting across Theo’s skin. Then he pulls back and says, “I wanted to make sure that you weren’t uncomfortable. But I’d like to see you—naked.”

He’s flushing as he says it, but also smiling, and Theo can’t help smiling back as he steps away and unbuttons his own robes.

Harry matches him movement for movement, his eyes glued to Theo’s chest as he reveals it. Theo knows he has scars—how could he not, with the way he grew up?—but he turns his head a little to the side and flaunts himself.

When he turns back, Harry is flushing, and half-undressed.

And Theo can see his scars.

They’re faint, most of them, old, and littered across the skin. Theo can see what look like remnants of the edges of doors, and cuts, and what might be a bite mark, of all things. Although maybe it’s something else, some Muggle tool he doesn’t know about.

Harry turns back around and gives a sharp sigh when he sees the direction of Theo’s gaze. “Are you going to be weird about this?”

“Weird?” Theo manages to force his eyes up.

“Are you going to not want to sleep with me because of my scars?”

Harry’s eyes are wide as he speaks the words, but his voice is calm and grim. Resigned. As if he thinks that Theo would be too shallow to want a scarred lover? Is that what he’s thinking?”

Or has he been with someone else before, who turned away from him, and he assumes that Theo will do the same?

Concern and jealousy both drive Theo to prowl over to his boyfriend and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders again. “I am ready to soothe you,” Theo whispers. “To show whatever you require of me to prove that I want you. As if this doesn’t.” He thrusts forwards so that Harry can feel his erection.

Harry shivers, and his eyes darken. He says, “As long as you—don’t mind.”

“I would only mind if you thought that it was a reason not to give yourself to me. Do you think that?”

After a long moment, Harry hesitantly shakes his head. “I’m just new to this, Theo. And you’re so handsome, and I’m smaller and skinnier, and you know why.” He makes a helpless gesture at the scars on his chest. “You know where these came from.”

“I do. And I honor you for surviving.” Theo smiles as his fears of another lover are laid to rest. “What makes you think that I don’t have other scars than these few, or that I’m not new to this, either?”

“You are?”

Harry’s eyes are fastened on him, and shining like stars. Theo nods, smiling. “I never met anyone I would have trusted like this before you, especially since so many of the people I knew were ones that my father tried to manipulate against me.” He slides his hand underneath Harry’s chin and bends near to kiss him. “Will you let me take you to bed?”

Harry nods, dazed, wide-eyed, trusting. Theo leads him across the room, their laughter echoing together as Harry trips over his mostly-shed robes. Then Theo lays him down on the bed and kisses him on his chest, his scars, his legs when he reveals them, his thighs, all over his body.

On his cock.

Harry gives a sharp gasp as he arches his back, and his cock nearly pokes Theo in the eye. Harry is babbling apologies a second later, as if he assumes that Theo is going to stand and stalk out of the room, but Theo is simply staring at Harry’s erection.

Then he bends down and starts to suck it.

Harry gives a startled cry this time and a buck that might have nearly flung Theo off, but Theo anticipated that, and he moves back a little so that he won’t get jabbed or choked. Then he sinks down again, fingers gripping Harry’s thighs, digging in, creating red marks, as he drapes his mouth over that enticingly scarlet cock again, and sucks.

Harry’s head is rolling backwards on the pillow, his mouth stretched open and his chest heaving.

Theo gets in a few more good sucks before Harry makes a spluttering noise and comes. Theo draws back a little, again, so he doesn’t get choked, but he mostly feels a sense of dark satisfaction as he swipes his fingers through the mess on Harry’s stomach.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t warn you—”

Theo leans up and kisses Harry, ignoring the way that he makes a murmur and a kind of grimace at tasting himself on Theo’s tongue. “It doesn’t matter,” Theo whispers. “Truly, it doesn’t. Would you like to do it to me?”

He thinks Harry might not want to, especially if he doesn’t want to swallow. He doesn’t anticipate the bright-eyed nod he gets, or the way that Harry hauls Theo around, positions him to Harry’s satisfaction, and then crawls down the bed. Theo has the impression that he’s still gaping at the ceiling when Harry fastens an eager mouth around him.

Theo arches his back and makes an undignified noise. Harry pulls back, coughing.

“I’m sorry—”

Theo reaches down with a shaking hand and caresses Harry’s cheek. He can’t stand the idea that his boyfriend would apologize for a feeling that brilliant. “It’s all right. Try to relax your throat and let your tongue do most of the work. Breathe through your nose.”

“Did you do this before?”

Theo revels for a single second in the discovery that he’s not the only potentially jealous one in this room, and then shakes his head with a smile. “No. But that’s what I’ve heard from Blaise and others who have.”

“Okay.”

Harry scrambles down again and starts to suck. Theo seizes the blankets and holds himself still. It’s so warm, so tight, and little shivers run through his body with how he’s restraining his actions. He wants to thrust, yes, but he’ll have the chance later, he’ll be able to show and teach Harry all sorts of things, and someday when he’s inside Harry and has the warmth surrounding him that—

He loses the battle, and comes.

Harry coughs as if he’s dying, but Theo doesn’t mind that, or the gasping, choking noises, or the mess that Harry spits up onto his sheets. He reaches out and drags Harry up to him, greedily kissing his lips, running his tongue around the inside of Harry’s mouth to get all the taste.

“You liked it?” Harry asks uncertainly, rearing back.

“What does it look like?”

Harry half-smiles, but he still appears a bit anxious, and Theo is forcibly reminded that Harry didn’t get much praise until recently, even from people who should have given it to him. He runs his hand tenderly up Harry’s shoulder blade and murmurs, “It was brilliant. You’re brilliant. So great, Harry.”

Harry laughs softly and brightly, and bends over to kiss him again. Theo rolls them so that they’re resting side-by-side, and discovers that he can come back to half-hardness.

Harry immediately and happily takes advantage of the situation.

*

“Albus sent me a letter about sending you a letter.”

Theo looks up with a scowl from his teacup. It’s rude of Lupin to come downstairs this early in the morning when Theo was trying to daydream about his boyfriend and interrupt his musings with talk of Dumbledore. “What?”

“I said that Albus sent me a letter about sending you a letter. He was wondering if you ever meant to answer it.”

“Why should I?”

Lupin pauses, apparently thinking that this is a novel way to approach the situation. Theo buries himself back in the strong tea and his memories of how Harry writhes when Theo sucks on his scars.

“You know that Albus is still the Headmaster of the school where you will spend the next three years,” Lupin says at last. “And I’ve heard you say things about how you don’t want to alienate him. That he’s a powerful wizard whose help we need against You-Know-Who?”

Lupin’s voice has risen near the end of that sentence, as if he is questioning his own memory while Theo sits in front of him with his tea and his silence. Theo finally drains the cup and gives it a mournful look, then sets it down and focuses on Lupin. Lupin promptly freezes like a rabbit.

Are there wererabbits? It would make a more fitting alternate form for him.

Theo shakes off the irrelevant idea and says, “We do need him on our side. But the letter said that he wanted to meet with him. I don’t think I need to.”

“Why not?”

Lupin is speaking calmly, but there’s a shout compacted into the bottom of his voice. Theo smiles at him, and Lupin flinches.

“Because I know what he would say. That I should give up Harry, or send him back to his relatives, or stop him from doing things like spreading around the story of how Voldemort tried to come back in the graveyard—”

Lupin flinches so hard at the sound of the name that it’s just as well that he didn’t sit down and start partaking of breakfast. His throat works for a second, and then he clears it and manages to ask, “So? Do you think it would be so bad, to—to speak with him, and reassure him that you’re on the same side?”

“He won’t believe that unless I do exactly what he wants. Which I won’t.”

“You could at least meet him and make sure of that!”

Theo thinks a little about that as he munches on some of the bacon that Cassie made for him. He can hear stirring in the house overhead. Harry and probably Luna and Blaise will be down the stairs soon. It will take longer for Neville and Black. “Maybe I could.”

“But?”

“But what?”

Lupin sounds as if he’s speaking through gritted teeth. “It sounds as though you’re looking for some reason to refuse.”

“I simply don’t know whether it would be a waste of time or not. We only have a fortnight until we go back to Hogwarts, you know. And I need some time to spend some time on my summer homework.”

Lupin stares at Theo, makes a spluttery little noise, and stomps out of the kitchen. Theo smiles into the remains of his breakfast, and then summons Cassie so that she can fetch a scroll of parchment from his bedroom for him.

Time to make part of the excuse true.

*

“There is a powerful visitor at the wards, Master Theo.”

Theo sighs and breaks off his explanation to Harry of why Snape’s Potions essay is a lot simpler than it looks. “Let me guess, he has a long white beard?”

“Cassie is seeing longer.”

Theo nods in resignation and stands up. He blinks a little when Harry does at the same time, outrage radiating around him like he’s about to launch himself through the wards. “You don’t need to come, you know.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me there?”

“It’s possible that he could still read your mind, and your Occlumency is basic enough yet that you wouldn’t feel him.”

Harry snorts and latches onto Theo’s arm as if he’s a witch who needs to be dragged onto the dance floor. “I just won’t look him in the eye, then. Besides, I’m going to be glaring at him most of the time anyway, not looking.”

Theo laughs and gives in. He does have to wave to an anxious Neville as he leans out of his own room and say, “It’s not your grandmother. It’s just Dumbledore, coming to see why I refused his invitation to meet with me.”

Inexplicably, this does not appear to reassure Neville. He follows them anxiously downstairs and towards the front entrance. At least he doesn’t come outside, just watches from the front door as Theo and Harry walk to the edge of the wards. Right now, the wards are visible as a shining, silvery metallic wall across the front of the grounds, reacting to Dumbledore’s power and mood.

The Headmaster stands behind them, and his eyes are fastened on Theo, his gaze heavy and disappointed. If he even notices that Harry is there, he gives no sign of it.

“My boy,” he whispers. “What have you done?”

“Do you really want the details?” Harry asks, sounding mildly surprised.

Dumbledore twitches. Theo is glad, for once, that his father gave him plenty of practice in keeping his face straight.

“I was speaking to Mr. Nott,” Dumbledore says.

“Funny, I didn’t think you called Slytherins my boy.”

Dumbledore turns so that he’s looking fully at Theo, and Theo bites his lip and firms his jaw and doesn’t howl the way he could have given what Harry said. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m studying hard for my OWL year, sir. You don’t need to worry about that, or about me encouraging Harry to be lazy.”

Dumbledore takes a deep breath. He doesn’t plant his hand over his face, but Theo has the feeling that he would have liked to. “Very well. I shall rephrase my question. Why do you seem so determined to set us on opposite sides of the wall?”

“I’m not interested in doing that, sir,” Theo says, keeping his voice as calm and respectful as possible. “But your letter was only an invitation to meet with you, and it didn’t tell me any other information. And your questions to Harry and me here have been equally uninformative. Now you say that we’re on opposite sides of the war? Why is that?”

“If you knew…”

“But I don’t, which is why I asked you.”

This time, Harry is the one who’s making undignified choking noises. He’s not as good at keeping a straight face as Theo. Theo thinks that he should add lessons in keeping calm to Harry’s Occlumency lessons.

Although, thank Merlin, he won’t have to teach Harry the same way his father taught him.

Dumbledore gives Theo another grave look, this time without the false edging of disappointment. He just appears deeply serious. “I am unaccustomed to explaining myself to schoolboys.”

“But in this case, you can do that, or you can leave, and leave us wondering what you meant, as well.”

Dumbledore’s lips move, in a way that makes Theo think he might be asking Merlin for patience. Then he shakes his head and says, “I will not speak of the truth in the open air where Death Eater spies might overhear us. May I come inside your wards?”

Theo makes a couple fast calculations, while Harry stares at him. Neville is doing the same thing from the doorway behind him, he thinks.

There’s Malfoy’s insinuations that Theo doesn’t have full control of the Nott wards, and there’s Dumbledore’s enormous power, which might mean he’s able to tear through them.

But on the other hand, there’s a particular trick that Theo’s father told him about, and which he can use now.

“If you enter uninvited, sir.”

Dumbledore takes a sharp breath. Harry leans against Theo. “What’s that mean?” he murmurs, keeping his voice low enough that Dumbledore probably can’t hear. Probably.

“It means that he can enter, but he’ll barely be able to perform magic.” Theo doesn’t look away from the Headmaster as he speaks. “The wards will consider him an uninvited guest and watch him constantly. They’ll restrict even small spells like a Lumos.”

“It is an insult,” Dumbledore says, shaking his head. He maintains his serious expression so flawlessly that Theo really isn’t sure what he feels other than that. “An injustice.”

“It’s what you’ll consent to, if you want to come inside the wards.”

Dumbledore takes a few more moments to apparently commune with himself, or the wind, or whatever he really thinks makes him more impressive. Then he sighs and nods.

“I am aware that I am entering uninvited,” he says, and steps up to the wards.

“Let him through,” Theo tells them.

The wards snap and spark and waver back and forth, and then they withdraw. Albus Dumbledore takes his first step inside them, and winces from the feeling of them.

Theo smiles politely, and leads him up to the house. The wards hiss their displeasure in his mind, and Theo tells them, Watch him.

From their razor-edged keenness in his thoughts, Theo is sure that they’ll pounce the moment Dumbledore tries something.

Which is all to the good, when Theo is inviting Dumbledore into the house that holds his most precious treasure in the world.

Chapter Text

“Should Cassie be bringing tea, Master Theo?”

“If you don’t mind, Cassie.”

She stares at him skeptically enough that Theo thinks she’s waiting for orders to poison Dumbledore’s tea or something of the kind. But Theo maintains his pleasant, open expression, and Cassie finally shakes her head and vanishes with a mutter that Theo doesn’t listen to about wizards’ whims.

Dumbledore settles in a large purple chair near the fire that Theo has always avoided. Of course, he brought them to this particular sitting room because he thought Dumbledore might favor the chair. He’s pleased to see he was correct. The Headmaster is peering around the sitting room as if judging the art, all plain landscapes. “A pretty place.”

“Thank you, Headmaster.”

Harry has sat down on the couch beside Theo, practicably vibrating with anxiety. Theo reaches out and puts one hand on Harry’s arm. Harry closes his eyes and slumps against Theo’s shoulder, sighing.

Dumbledore is watching them with such sadness when Theo looks up that he bristles. “Did you have something to say, sir?”

The Headmaster clears his throat, but Cassie appears with the tea service then, and he closes his mouth again. Cassie hands out the tea and cakes with little waves of her hand, and then she turns and stares at Theo.

Theo nods. “That will be all, Cassie.”

His elf squints at him for a long moment before she vanishes. Theo ignores that, only making sure that Harry has a teacup and a good plateful of the little cakes before he turns back to Dumbledore. “You were saying?”

Dumbledore takes several sips of tea before he says, “I have done my research. I did not want to believe what I was seeing, but I believe I am correct.”

“You haven’t said what about, sir.”

Dumbledore stares into his teacup. Theo contemplates reassuring him that he doesn’t need to practice Divination to tell the truth, but he holds his tongue. He’s starting to think that Dumbledore really does intend to tell them something horrible, and has to gather his courage to do it.

From the way that Harry presses against Theo’s side, shaking, he thinks the same thing. Theo wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders without taking his gaze from Dumbledore.

Finally, the Headmaster looks up at them. “I struggled with whether to tell you the truth, but I think you do need to know it,” he whispers.

“Yes,” Theo says, holding his eyes. “I think we do.”

Dumbledore nods, sips once more at the tea, and sets it aside. “I have been studying how Voldemort managed to resurrect himself, and what he was trying to do with the ritual in the graveyard. I also began to study how he had managed to become a wraith in the first place, instead of dying when you deflected the Killing Curse onto him, Harry.”

Harry swallows and nods.

“There are a number of methods by which he could have achieved immortality, but only a few that could have accounted for what he and you both experienced. One by one, I have eliminated the most common. And even then, when I began to figure out what had happened, I had to do some—unorthodox research. Voldemort is even madder than I thought. He has surpassed the limits that even those who created this method of immortality laid upon it.”

“Tell me, sir, please.”

Dumbledore’s eyes shine with horrible gentleness as he looks at Harry. “Voldemort has made Horcruxes, containers for pieces of his soul that in turn bind his soul to the world. But he has made multiple Horcruxes, whereas even the most foul wizards and witches in history before him only made one.” Dumbledore breathes in, as though preparing himself for a duel. “And I fear that one of those Horcruxes lies within your scar, Harry.”

Harry stares at Dumbledore with eyes so dead that Theo turns to shield his boyfriend from the Headmaster. Harry stares at Theo then. His brain seems to have stopped. Theo can see nothing of Harry’s vital spirit in that gaze.

“No,” Theo whispers.

“I wish it were not so. But I am afraid my research has eliminated other likely candidates.”

“Tell me how to destroy a Horcrux,” Theo demands, without looking at Dumbledore.

“There is no way to do so other than the utter destruction of its vessel. The diary that Harry fought in your second year was one of them, and it had to be destroyed by basilisk venom. The Killing Curse might be another method. I am sorry. Truly.”

“I have to die to end Voldemort,” Harry whispers.

“No,” Theo snarls. He feels as if he’s come around a corner on a steady path and seen it end before him on a plunge into the snow, but that doesn’t matter. He won’t let it matter. “I’ll find a way to remove the Horcrux from you so that you don’t have to die.”

“The best minds in history have sought for such solutions, and have never found them,” Dumbledore says. “Do you think you can?”

“Yes.”

Dumbledore says nothing for a time after that, apparently disconcerted by Theo’s voice. Theo isn’t disconcerted himself. He knows what he wants. He knows what he’s going to achieve. And it’s not just Harry’s life. It’s the removal of the dead look from Harry’s eyes.

“My research has revealed no way to remove the Horcrux from a vessel and place it somewhere else. It has revealed no living Horcrux before this, either. I do not think that you can invent a whole new field of magic, Mr. Nott.”

“Fucking watch me.”

“Mr. Nott! Language!”

Theo wants to sneer that they’re not in Hogwarts and he can’t lose Slytherin any points, but he ignores that idea. Nothing matters but the feel of Harry shaking in his arms, and his sudden, deep need to know everything Dumbledore can tell him.

“How did Harry become a living Horcrux, if there’s never been one of them before?”

“I do not know everything…”

“You know something.” Theo turns to face Dumbledore again, sheltering Harry behind him. “Or you wouldn’t be here bragging about your research.”

For a moment, Dumbledore’s nostrils flare, as if he badly wants to snap back. But in the end, he helps himself to a small cake and then nods as he finishes it. “Very well. I believe that Voldemort came to Godric’s Hollow intending to create a Horcrux with Harry’s death. He would have seen the death of a significant enemy as a propitious time to make another, and perhaps even the night of Halloween. Voldemort is a superstitious man.

“He had the means prepared, likely an artifact that he brought with him. But when Lily Potter faced him—well, he gave her the chance to step aside. That, I believe, is the key factor that made her defense of Harry different, and not her love alone.”

“Why did he give her the chance to step aside?”

“I could not say, my boy.”

“That is technically the truth, Headmaster. Very technically. I think you can say. I think you’re choosing not to. Why should we trust you if you’re playing word games and concealing some of what you know?”

Dumbledore pauses, staring at Theo. Theo stares back. He’s confident in his Occlumency to let him feel if Dumbledore tries Legilimency, if not to keep the probe out completely. And right now, he would lash out with traps that would make even Dumbledore wince.

“I cannot say because it is not my secret to speak.”

“Whose is it?”

“That I also cannot say. It is a matter of promises and oaths I made,” Dumbledore adds, before Theo can express his opinion of that answer. “But trust me when I say that Voldemort had a reason to give Lily a chance to leave, and she did not. He accepted her offer to trade her life for Harry’s, and then he attacked Harry anyway. Given the fragile state of his soul after the creation of multiple Horcruxes, it is not a surprise, I think, that he shattered once more from the reflected Killing Curse, and that a piece of his soul latched onto Harry even as the main soul was disembodied.”

Harry shudders in Theo’s arms. Theo rubs his shoulder for a moment, and then nods. “All right. How many of these Horcruxes do you believe you made?”

“Did you not hear what I said about the Horcrux you are holding, Mr. Nott?”

Rage grabs Theo in talons so sharp that when he turns to face Dumbledore, the man rears back and fumbles for his wand. He’s apparently forgotten that it’s all but useless when he left the majority of his power outside the wards.

“His name is Harry.”

“You—yes, he is a person,” Dumbledore says, and sits back, holding out his hands as though Theo will accept what he said with that gesture. “But you must see that you cannot save him, and that this relationship you have, gentle as it is, is useless.”

Theo stares at Dumbledore. In the back of his mind, he did wonder why the Headmaster consented to speak to them both about this instead of waiting until he could catch Harry alone or he wore them down into Harry talking with him by himself, but now Theo knows.

Dumbledore thinks that this is going to destroy what Harry and Theo feel for each other. As though Theo would ever be that shallow.

“I love Harry. I am not going to abandon him. If you really thought that this would make me do so, you’re—” Theo shakes his head. He can’t speak his true opinion of Dumbledore without being expelled from Hogwarts, most probably.

“You must see that there is no hope, Mr. Nott. I do not even know what kind of impact a Horcrux would have on a living being, let alone whether it would be possible to remove one. This is doomed.”

“No.’

“You cannot know that.”

“You can’t know that I won’t find a way to solve this problem, either.”

“Years of magical theory—”

“As you’ve pointed out, Headmaster, Harry’s situation has never happened before. It’s just as likely that I’ll find something out as all the people who’ve spent years not researching it.” Theo cradles Harry close and bows his head to whisper into his ear when he hears the soft whimpers coming from Harry, “Do you want him to leave, so we can talk alone?”

After a long moment when Theo thinks he isn’t going to get a response, that Harry is too far into shock for that, Harry nods violently.

“You heard Harry, Headmaster. You need to leave.”

“I have more to impart.”

“What is it?”

Dumbledore hesitates.

Theo nods. At the moment, he doesn’t think Dumbledore has any new information to share, just more sad statements of hopelessness and the like. “I’ll show you to the door, and you can pick up your magic again outside the wards. At the moment, I think we’ll all feel more comfortable with you gone.”

“I am sorry, my boys.”

Dumbledore is sorry that he thinks Harry has to die, or he’s sorry that he didn’t manage to convince them that it’s hopeless, Theo knows. So he ignores the apology and guides Dumbledore carefully to the gates. Cassie appears and walks beside him, giving Dumbledore doubtful looks from time to time.

When they reach the gates, Dumbledore clears his throat and says, “I must ask for an oath from you, that you won’t speak of this to anyone else.”

“And do you plan to swear the same thing?”

“What?”

“Do you plan to swear that you won’t speak of it to anyone else either?”

Even if Dumbledore tried not to, he pauses a moment too long. Theo nods again. “Then we won’t swear the oath, Headmaster.”

“If you only understood how important this is,” Dumbledore whispers.

“That’s another thing you can’t reveal, I suppose? Just like you can’t reveal how you know about Harry’s mother asking Voldemort to spare her life?”

Dumbledore still looks surprised when Theo speaks the Dark Lord’s name. “Yes, I can’t reveal it.”

Theo smiles at him.

“If you would trust me—”

“You came here today intending to separate me from Harry, probably so that you could persuade him to risk his life, or just give it up, to get rid of Voldemort. You don’t get to ask for trust.”

Dumbledore, in the end, puts down his head and plods through the gates. He turns when he gets there and says something about being on the same side that Theo doesn’t listen to. Harry is leaning heavily against him, and the weight grows as the moments pass. Dumbledore Apparates before Harry seems to draw a deep breath.

“Can we—talk?”

“Of course,” Theo says, and leads Harry up to his own room, pausing only to leave instructions with Cassie to watch over his door and turn away anyone who tries to enter. The last thing they need right now is to be interrupted by even Neville, never mind Black.

*

Harry swallows as Theo shuts the bedroom door behind them and leans against it. Then he begins pacing around the room. Theo expected that, so he just watches Harry calmly as he runs his hand through his hair.

But when Harry clenches his hand down and begins to tug, Theo steps forwards and reaches out to put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m not going to allow you to hurt yourself.”

“I wasn’t trying to—hurt myself.”

“Really? Because it looked to me as if you were.”

Harry stares at Theo for a long moment, and then closes his eyes with a shudder. “I just—Theo, how can you stand to touch me? I’m tainted.”

“Really? Because I see the same boy I’ve loved for the last ten months,” Theo says evenly. “And because you aren’t the Horcrux, whatever Dumbledore might want you to think, and because we’re going to destroy this thing without harming you.”

“You heard what Dumbledore said about the magical theory and how no one had ever destroyed a living Horcrux or even made one before.”

“That he’s aware of.”

“What?”

“The Nott library contains a lot of Dark Arts that even other pureblood families lost long ago. Partially because they tended to flaunt it more than we did and got their books or artifacts confiscated.” Theo smiles at Harry, the kind of deep, wild smile he rarely lets anyone see, and watches Harry swallow and relax. “There might be something there that Dumbledore doesn’t know about because he’s never read those books.”

“But what if there isn’t?”

“Then I’ll make a solution. Like I told him. Like I told you. Do you think I would let you die?”

Harry hesitates. Theo bites back the temptation to say something about how much it hurts that Harry doesn’t trust him. He thinks it’s more than that. He waits as patiently as he can, and Harry finally mumbles something.

“What?”

“I’m saying,” Harry says, and he lifts his chin and his eyes and his voice all at the same time, “maybe you should let me die.”

Theo feels his smile transform again, and if there’s something terrible in it, he doesn’t care. He moves forwards a step, crowding Harry against the wall. Harry lets him do it. His courage doesn’t visibly waver, either, Gryffindor that he is.

“I’ll never let go of you,” Theo whispers. “I never let go of what I love, of what’s mine. I’ve had little enough in this life. Didn’t I warn you about this before? You should have chosen someone else, Harry, if you wanted someone who would let you go when you asked.”

“But—if I really asked—”

“No.”

“Theo, isn’t—isn’t holding onto someone who hurts you a little—insane?”

“I don’t care if it is. You’re mine.”

Theo knows it. He knows it down to his bones. He knows that he would nod and smile and agree if Harry wanted to leave him, but he would make every effort to convince him to come back. He can no more loosen his grip on Harry now than a goshawk can open its talons when it binds to its prey.

And in any case, Harry only wants to “leave” because he’s convinced he’s tainted or some such. He’s fallen into the trap that Dumbledore set for Theo.

Probably Dumbledore thought Harry would be the more loving one.

“Theo, are you sure?”

Harry’s voice is low and raw and charged. Theo recognizes the tone. Harry doesn’t want to turn his back on Theo, doesn’t want to leave or die, any more than Theo wants to let him go. Not truly. But he wants reassurance.

Theo leans back and opens his arms.

Harry gives a sob and grabs him, holding so tight that Theo’s ribs hurt. It doesn’t matter. He’s holding Harry, he’s holding the only person he loves, the one he intends to stay together with and cling to and love forever and slay Voldemort with.

Your trap almost worked, Theo thinks in Dumbledore’s direction. Although you didn’t anticipate the prey who would fall into it.

But in the end, you lost. You’ll lose as thoroughly as Voldemort.

Harry is mine more than he’s Voldemort’s, Horcrux or not, and we’re going to defeat him. I swear it on all we are.

Chapter Text

“Wh-what are you doing, Theo? Can I help?”

Theo looks up with a small smile. Neville is standing in the doorway of the library, and he’s looking around with his eyes so wide that Theo feels a stab in his conscience. How many people have ever encouraged Neville to study? To feel like he could understand and grasp more knowledge than he already had?

It might make him a better companion for Harry if he were more studious. It could convince Harry to study as well.

“Maybe you can,” Theo says, and reaches for one of a stack of books sitting on the table next to him. Then he hesitates.

Neville sees the hesitation. He ducks his head. “Y-you don’t think that I could really help.”

“It’s not that. It’s that I’m doing a lot of fairly Dark research. I didn’t think you would want to research Dark Arts or soul magic.”

Neville blinks for a second. Then he tilts his chin up. There’s a determined gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think that anyone’s ever asked me for help like that.”

“I know—”

“But that means that I might be good at it, and not even know it.”

Theo studies Neville for a second. Neville just looks back. And Theo can practically feel his yearning to help, his determination to try and pay Theo and Harry back for all they’ve done for him, streaming out of him like a comet’s tail.

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes. Please.”

Theo nods and gestures towards a stack of books that he’s been marking chapters of but hasn’t actually read through yet. “All right. If you could start there? You’re looking for references to soul magic and immortality.”

Neville turns the color of a scared house-elf as he sits down in the chair in front of the books. “You’re looking for—how You-Know-Who managed to survive the confrontations with Harry and come back.”

“Yes.” Theo watches closely for signs of a fear so profound that Neville will pull back and avoid the task instead of embracing t.

But even though Neville swallows hard, he gamely opens the top book. “What should I do? Just mark anything that looks interesting?”

“Yes. In particular, anything that looks as if it refers to rituals or artifacts that keep someone immortal.”

It’s the closest that Theo intends to come to revealing that Voldemort created Horcruxes, or that one of the Horcruxes is in Harry. He simply can’t think of who else could be trusted with that knowledge.

Particularly when he doesn’t know who else Dumbledore will trust with it, either.

Neville bows his head and then looks around. “Oh, quill and parchment—”

They appear beside him in seconds, along with an inkwell. Neville jumps in a way that makes Theo glad he isn’t holding an ink-dipped quill at the moment, and then gives a tremulous smile to mid-air. “Thank you, Cassie.”

Theo thinks he’s the only one who hears a mutter that sounds like, “Not taking care of themselves,” but that doesn’t matter. He smiles into his own scroll and goes back to taking notes on the Darker tomes that he thinks are more likely to hold an answer.

They will find one. And if other people want to help, ones that Theo thinks they can trust, that’s what they’ll do.

If they have to bring some of these books to Hogwarts and sneak them in under Dumbledore’s nose, that’s what they’ll do, too.

*

“You need to be careful.”

Theo was about to stroll into the breakfast room, but this sounds like the kind of conversation that he might be interested in overhearing rather than shutting down. He slows and leans his head around the corner of the wall.

Lupin is standing with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Luckily, Harry is frowning up at him in a way that says he isn’t afraid, or Theo would have to take steps.

“Why? What is it about this year in particular that’s going to be bad?”

“You know that Dumbledore’s always had a hard time finding people to take the Defense post?”

Harry makes a face. “Yeah. I wish you could come back. You were the best Defense professor we ever had.”

Theo disagrees. Crouch was better, if only because he wasn’t afraid to teach them Dark spells. But he’s content to remain silent on most things that he and Harry don’t agree on.

“Well, in this case, he couldn’t find anyone. And the Ministry claimed the right to appoint a professor.” Lupin shudders a little. “This woman is called Dolores Umbridge, and she’s one of the people who questioned Theo, from what he’s said. And she’s tried to pass legislation against werewolves and many other kinds of people.”

“How can she be a teacher?”

Lupin smiles a little at Harry’s indignant tone. “The Ministry cares about the fact that she’ll be there to spy on you, not about her teaching qualifications.”

“And I should be careful because—what? She might bury me in paperwork if I don’t listen to her?”

“No,” Lupin says, sharply enough that Harry jumps and Theo’s eyebrows creep up. “You should be careful because the Minister could have empowered her to do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Remember what I said about her spying on you? She could pass information on to your enemies—in the Ministry, if not to You-Know-Who. I don’t think there’s any evidence for her being a Death Eater. But you have to be careful.”

Harry nods slowly. He looks troubled. Just seeing that look makes Theo’s insides feel as if they’re being scraped by giant claws, so he saunters into the breakfast room.

“Hi, Theo.”

Harry’s face lights up so much when he sees Theo that Theo wonders who the person is who wouldn’t murder the world to see it. He leans in and kisses Harry on the lips, aware of the sweet taste beneath his mouth and also the uncomfortable way that Lupin glances to the side.

Entertaining.

But Theo does think that they have other things to do than entertain Lupin, so he draws back and lifts an eyebrow. “Do you think that we need to worry so much about one Ministry spy? We’ll handle her as we’ve handled everything else.”

Harry’s eyes are bright as he smiles. “Well, Professor Lupin thinks she’s formidable.”

“She has caused chaos in the Ministry, and set back progress that might have been made on werewolf rights by years,” Lupin says, when Theo turns to him. “I have to assume that she will bring the same hateful politics to Hogwarts.”

“But there are no werewolves there.” Theo enjoys Lupin’s flinch far too much.

“No, but—well, she hates everyone who’s not a pureblood as far as I can tell. Goblins, centaurs, Muggleborns, half-bloods. It doesn’t end.”

Theo nods. Then Harry will be in danger and Theo will be his shield, but that isn’t different from what they were discussing the other times, either. “Very well. Thank you for warning us.”

“Did you think I would not?”

“If you could get away with warning Harry and not me, then maybe you would have.”

“I would not—”

“You did want to talk to me in private, Professor Lupin.”

Lupin coughs and turns away from both their innocent stares. “You don’t need to keep calling me that, Harry. I’m not a professor at Hogwarts, and I never will be again.”

Theo opens his mouth. Harry glares at him. Theo subsides. Harry raises an eyebrow. Theo sulks.

Lupin continues in a soft, subdued voice, not paying attention to what’s going on behind his back. Then again, that’s a pretty good description of Lupin in general. “I always thought that you would tell your boyfriend, Harry. It’s simply—I thought it might affect how you told him.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

Lupin bows his head. “You can’t understand why all of us have reservations about him, Harry? Truly?”

“You and Sirius have reservations. And Ron and Hermione. Luna and Blaise and Neville don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Blaise says, wandering into the dining room. Lupin’s face twists a little. Blaise winks at him and comes over to stand at Harry’s side as if he’s thinking aloud while he speaks. “If anything, I had reservations about Harry as a boyfriend for Theo. I didn’t think he would have the stomach to do what needed to be done.”

“Can you doubt that now?”

Harry’s voice is soft and has a dark undertone. Theo blinks at him, but Harry doesn’t appear to notice. His attention is focused on Blaise.

“I don’t doubt now. But you can’t blame me for doing it at the beginning of summer. Your reputation is as someone who forgives easily.”

“He does do it with his friends.”

“You also benefited from that easy forgiveness, Theo, or did you forget?”

“Yes, but I deserved it, and they didn’t.”

Theo holds Harry’s eyes, smiling, and sees the telltale quiver of Harry’s lips. He smiles and steps forwards to kiss him again.

Lupin clears his throat as though he believes that will stop something. Theo digs his hand into Harry’s hair, and Harry makes an approving sound and throws his arms around Theo.

“If you don’t get going, you’ll miss the train!” Lupin gabbles in a high voice.

“Cassie can make breakfast for us,” Theo mumbles, and presses Harry into the wall of the kitchen, kissing him to the point that Harry is making little breathless sounds and flailing his hands. But he doesn’t really want Theo to stop, or he would pull away. Instead, Theo sinks happily into the warmth of Harry’s mouth and relearns the taste of him.

When he looks up, Blaise is the only one sitting at the table, eating and nodding to them.

“I think you traumatized Lupin.”

“He was trying to hurry up our kiss. That just says he’s never had anyone to kiss himself.”

“You know why that is, Theo,” Harry says softly as he takes the chair beside Theo’s. Sure enough, breakfast pops into being before them, and Theo makes sure to serve Harry from the heartiest dishes before taking anything himself. “It’s not his fault that he’s a werewolf and few people would want to date him…”

“I never said anything about his lycanthropy. It’s his personality I think is the problem.”

Harry loses the battle against his own seriousness and laughs. Theo smiles at him and eats breakfast while holding onto Harry’s hand with his.

*

“Harry!”

Theo turns around with a sigh. Of course they aren’t going to get out of the house without one more confrontation with Black.

Black is hurrying towards them, his face stretched wide with something that looks like pain. He sees Blaise and Theo waiting—Neville and Luna have already gone through the Floo—and slams to a halt. For an instant, his expression writhes, and then he seems to make the decision to ignore Theo, turning to face Harry instead.

Theo raises his eyebrows. It’s the most mature decision he’s seen Black make so far.

“Harry,” Black whispers. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“I’m going to be careful, Sirius.”

“Remus told you about the new Defense professor?”

“Yeah.” Harry grimaces. “She sounds like she’ll be terrible. But most of the others we’ve had haven’t been very good, either.”

“I know Dumbledore came and talked to you the other day. What did he say?”

Harry turns his head to seek out Theo’s eyes, and Black gives a huffing noise. Theo shakes his head. Black wouldn’t be able to keep the secret, and honestly, Dumbledore could tell him at any time if he really wants Harry’s godfather to know.

“Does he control you or something?” Black bursts out. “That you’re always looking to him for approval, instead of me or Remus or someone else?”

“No,” Harry says, very gently. “He’s just the one who was there for me when other people couldn’t be.”

Black recoils, looking unhappy, and Harry steps forwards and hugs him. Black calms down and practically sags into Harry in response.

“I want you to be careful.”

“I know, but I will be. And I think you should talk to Dumbledore yourself about why he visited us, Sirius. I think what he has to tell you will be enlightening.”

Black pulls away with questions in his eyes, but Lupin, proving useful for once, calls, “Sirius, we have to let them go or they really will miss the train!”

Black gives Theo a flatly suspicious look, then sniffles, pats Harry on the back, and whispers, “Bye, kiddo.”

“Bye, Sirius.”

Finally, they’re whirling through the green flames, and landing on the platform at King’s Cross as the train whistles shrilly. Both Theo and Harry run after Blaise and manage to leap onto the train just as it starts to move. Harry leans out and stares at the fireplace they came through as if he thinks Black and Lupin are waving to him in it.

Who knows? Theo can’t see that well from the angle he’s standing at. Maybe they are.

“Do you think that I should have been more sympathetic to him? It’s not his fault that he couldn’t be there to take care of me.”

“I think you were exactly as sympathetic as you should have been. And he is better than he was at the beginning of summer.”

“Yeah…”

“Hey, Potty.”

Theo glances over his shoulder, his eyebrows rising. He would have expected Draco, but Draco isn’t standing there. Instead, it’s Tracey Davis, who’s always been more of a nonentity than a player in the games around Slytherin. She’s smiling nastily at Harry, but honestly, if that’s her best one, she needs some practice.

“Heard that you were lying about the Dark Lord coming back. I just wondered if you would really try to get away with your lies at school. I know I don’t believe them.”

Theo begins to slink forwards, but Harry kicks him lightly in the shin. Theo stops. If Harry wants to handle Davis by himself, that’s his right. Theo will only interfere if she tries to attack physically.

“You sound like you’re perfectly convinced that he’s back, Davis.” Harry sounds a little weary. “Not my fault if you’re not brave enough to speak up.”

Davis opens her mouth again, but this time, Theo does lean forwards and look at her intently. Davis falters.

In the end, though, something spurs her on. Maybe she’s been told her by her father, who was a low-ranking Death Eater towards the end of the last war, that she has to do this.

“The Defense professor is going to make sure that you can’t say nonsense like that! And the Ministry will never believe you.”

“Are you a Seer?”

“Huh?”

“Just wondering how you can know the Ministry will never believe me, if you’re not a Seer.”

Davis splutters for a second. Then she points a finger at Harry and snaps, “You’ll see! You’ll just see what I’m talking about!” before spinning away and stalking down the train corridor.

Harry sighs as if exhausted and turns to face Theo. “Do you want to find a compartment by ourselves?”

Theo does, but he also thinks that Harry deserves the chance to see Weasley and Granger, whom he hasn’t met up with since their shopping in Diagon Alley. So he says, “Let’s find your friends,” and begins herding Harry in search of them.

“My friends.”

“I don’t have to pretend they’re mine. They would probably be offended if they did.”

“But you’ll put up with them because they matter to me.”

Theo just gives Harry a patient look. If he hasn’t worked this out, then he’s a lot more stupid than Theo ever thought of him as.

Harry turns around and pins Theo to the wall behind him with his hands on Theo’s shoulders, his eyes wide and serious and so bright that Theo feels as though ocean waves are closing over his head. “I love you,” Harry breathes. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“I might,” Theo says, his voice thick, and leans closer to Harry. “Since I love you just as much.”

“Oi! No snogging in the corridors!”

Theo turns around with an eyeroll. Weasley is standing behind them, a scowl on his face even though he also has red ears and isn’t looking directly at them. Theo stares.

“What? Don’t believe that anyone wouldn’t want to watch you snogging?”

“No. I just wonder who made you a prefect, of all people.”

Weasley’s ears turn so red that he looks like a house-elf attempting to boil something over a fire. “It’s our Head of House’s and Dumbledore’s decision,” he snaps. “Not like you’re one either, are you?”

“No, but I wouldn’t want to be one.” Theo eyes Weasley. “Do you? Or do you just like the—”

Harry yanks on his arm, and Theo sighs and shuts up. He supposes that he can’t claim to want peace with Harry’s friends and then go around antagonizing them. He follows Harry and Weasley to a compartment where Luna and Neville are already sitting talking quietly, along with a red-haired girl Theo recognizes after a blank moment as Weasley’s younger sister.

The girl glances at Harry and then away, blushing. Theo doesn’t bristle, but he does make sure to sling his arm around Harry’s shoulders as he sits down.

The girl turns pale instead of red. Theo keeps part of his attention on her even as he starts talking with Neville and Luna.

It already seems as if this will be a year of enemies—some of them more dangerous than others.

Chapter Text

“Such delightful little friends.”

From the beginning, Umbridge has irritated Theo, and it’s worse now that they’re all in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for the first day. She pins her eyes on him and then on Harry, since this year the Slytherins and Gryffindors have it together.

Theo just smiles blandly back at her. Harry looks bored.

“If you will read the first chapter? There will be no need to talk.”

Of course Granger’s hand goes up. Theo conceals a sigh. Harry talked to her about what Umbridge was like, and how they would do best just to keep their heads down and let the professor’s “teaching” slide past them, but it’s not a surprise that Granger’s Gryffindor principles can’t stand that.

“Yes, dear?” Umbridge flutes, after she hasn’t taken notice of Granger for several minutes. “What is your name?”

“Hermione Granger, professor. I just wondered what in the books talked about the practical use of defensive magic?”

“Practical?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge. The Defense OWL has a practical portion. I just wondered when we’ll get to practice those spells in class?”

Theo tilts his head. All right, that question is better-phrased than he thought it would be. Granger isn’t just demanding to know what the hell Umbridge is teaching them, which Theo thought would be the tack she’d take.

“I’m sure that you’ll manage just fine, Miss Granger.”

“I’m not sure of that, Professor Umbridge. We don’t get any practice in class at all?”

“From what I understand, you had very little practice last year, which was full of an imposter casting Unforgivables on you. And you managed to emerge from your exams just fine, didn’t you, dear?”

“Because I practiced on my own!”

“Oh, dear, Miss Granger. I hope that you aren’t telling me you are casting magic in the corridors or your common room?”

“No, of course not, Professor Umbridge.”

Umbridge watches Granger in silence for a few more seconds, like the snake she’s at least aspiring to be, and then nods and smiles. “Then I think everything will be fine, dear. You’ll just do what you did last year, and everything will be fine.”

She swings around abruptly and pins Harry with her gaze. He’s “reading” the Defense book, but obviously paying attention to the conversation. “Unless Mr. Potter would like to add something to this discussion?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was paying attention to the book. What were you saying?”

“Do you think there’s any necessity for a practical portion of class?”

Harrys shakes his head. Theo is actually a little surprised to see how cool and collected he is, but then, Harry has carried on practicing his Occlumency even now that they know his visions come from the Horcrux instead of some kind of mental connection. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to practice spells like that in this classroom, Professor.”

“And elsewhere?”

“Well, as your discussion with Hermione shows, that’s against the rules.”

Umbridge squints at Harry some more. Harry just sits there and smiles a little, as if he’s eager to get back to reading the Defense text and doesn’t know why she keeps staring at him. Umbridge abruptly says, “Do you think he’s lurking out there, Mr. Potter?”

“Who, Professor?”

“You-Know-Who.”

“Oh, well. It depends on your definition of lurking.” Harry shrugs a little and leans back in his chair in an insouciant manner that makes Theo regret they’re in class and there’s a no touching rule then. “I do think that he might be somewhere, but he’s unlikely to come near Hogwarts or the Ministry.”

Umbridge doesn’t look as if she knows what to do with that answer. She spends more time looking at Harry, and then turns her back with a cough. “If you will resume reading? There will be no need to talk.”

More than one person is staring at Harry as if he’s mad. They must be wondering why he would have put that story and memories of Voldemort’s attempted resurrection in the Prophet if he doesn’t believe that Voldemort’s returned.

Theo conceals a grin as he bends over his book again. (He’s going to smuggle another one into the class if this keeps being their daily routine). It’s not Harry’s fault that other people don’t listen to the nuances of his words.

*

“Amazed that you’re here instead of spending time with your boyfriend, Theo.”

Theo pays as much attention to Draco as those words deserve, which is none. “We have to do other things sometimes,” he says, and squints at the page in front of him before writing down the right answer to the Arithmancy equation with a flourish. “Since we are here to get an education.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“The professors might be lacking, but not all of them, and not all the time.”

There’s a fuming silence from Draco’s direction, and a more complicated silence from several directions in the common room. After all, everyone here who matters knows or has heard rumors about what Theo did to his father.

Theo keeps writing, and keeps the hard smile from his face.

“What do you think of Umbridge?” Blaise asks abruptly, leaning towards Theo. “Annoying?”

Theo shrugs. He and Blaise both know that there are Slytherins here who would report every word to Umbridge, on the orders of their parents or to get in good with the Ministry. Blaise set this up to flush them out. “No worse than many other Defense professors we’ve had, certainly.”

“What does that mean, Nott?”

It’s Davis again. At this point, Theo is convinced she’s acting on her father’s orders. She just isn’t that forward and interested in her politics on her own.

“What I said, Davis. Is English not your first language?”

The silence crowding in from the various corners changes direction. Not everyone appreciates Davis standing up and getting involved, then. Theo knows that it doesn’t even necessarily come from hatred for her half-blood status. Slytherins like certain things to be predictable, or they like warnings when the large things are about to change. And Davis’s complete reversal in personality is neither of those.

“Of course it is!”

“Then you should understand what I said.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I recommend that you study comparatives.”

A wave of soft laughter moves through the common room. Davis flushes so hard that she looks as if she’s going to burst a vein in her head, but there’s fear in her eyes. Theo leans back in his chair and gives her the kind of even look that he hopes will convey how unwise it will be to ask more.

Perhaps it does, but Davis charges ahead anyway. She must really be afraid of her father. Theo wonders if he can make her more afraid of Theo himself, or not. “I think I should tell Professor Umbridge that you don’t respect her.”

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

Now heads are swiveling back and forth between Theo and Davis, as if hoping for a smell of blood on the air. Even Draco has looked up from his strategy planning session with the rest of the Quidditch team.

Theo just leans back in his chair and smiles at Davis, letting everyone see how deeply unbothered he is by all of this. “Go ahead and tell her that. Then she can call me into her office, and I can go and explain the truth to her myself.”

“The—truth?”

“That you don’t understand English very well, and you tend to complain a lot and waste everyone’s time.”

Davis looks around at their audience, not at all subtly. She doesn’t seem to be reassured by the smiles she gets in return. Theo doesn’t think most people in Slytherin have a problem with Davis, not really, but there’s that problem with uncertainty that Theo thought of before, and she’s also not a pureblood.

To those to whom that matters. Theo thinks they’re stupid, but he has absolutely no problem using them.

Whatever Davis sees, it convinces her that pressing this further isn’t a good idea. Her hands tremble as she scoops up her parchment and quills and books, and practically runs up the stairs.

“Was it wise to drive her away like that?” Blaise asks, eyes firmly on his own essay.

Theo has already turned back to his. He shrugs without looking up. “Was it wise for her to press me in public, where I would have to defend myself harder than if she’d simply approached me in private or even with a smaller audience?”

“Perhaps not.”

Theo grants a thin smile to his best friend, and dives into the somewhat absorbing task of finishing the Arithmancy in such a way that it will entertain him. In truth, most classes bore him now.

He anticipated that result when he killed his father, however, and faced up to the best and fiercest challenge of his life. Even Voldemort won’t provide as much personal satisfaction if Theo gets to destroy his Horcruxes.

Unless he’s stupid enough to face Theo in person on a battlefield, perhaps.

Theo loses himself in dreaming of all the spells he might cast then to the point that he almost misses the call to dinner. And the first thing he notices when he gets to the Great Hall is that Harry isn’t at the Gryffindor table.

Theo narrows his eyes in a way that makes Crabbe and Goyle move down the table from him, but he also makes a point of eating his dinner in a quick, neat way. His wand is at hand. His mind is quiet and clear and empty.

When Harry needs him, he will be ready to move.

*

“Umbridge gave Ron detention.”

“Why? I didn’t think Weasley had done anything to antagonize her.”

Harry grimaces and rakes a hand through his hair. They’re in the classroom they used for dance practice before the Yule Ball last year. Theo’s Transfigured bits and pieces of broken old furniture into a comfortable couch, and Harry has charmed the walls to glow the soft, steady grey shade that’s in the sitting room they used the most often at home.

“It was something that happened outside class.” Harry huffs out a breath and closes his eyes, slumping against Theo’s shoulder. Theo strokes his hair. “She—saw him coming out of the library with a Defense book and made another comment about how much we must have learned from our Defense professor last year. So then Ron told her Moody was really Crouch and how a Death Eater helping Voldemort proved Voldemort was alive.”

Theo just sighs. He supposes he should have anticipated something like that. “And she made him write lines, you said?”

“Yes. But—not normal ones.”

Harry hesitates before he lifts his eyes. Theo catches his breath in delight. He didn’t realize it was rage animating Harry like this.

“She made him use a Blood Quill.”

For a moment, the words batter against Theo’s ears, not making sense. That’s so illegal that’s he surprised a Ministry official would risk it, no matter how much she might want to shut down talk of Voldemort.

Then he sees the way Harry is shaking, and he leans forwards and puts his arms around his lover. All right, so Umbridge dared. Her motivations don’t matter that much. What matters is that she hurt someone who belongs to Harry, and therefore, by extension, someone who belongs to Theo, no matter how much he might dislike Weasley personally.

“I can make sure that she doesn’t survive past dawn.”

“No!”

Theo raises his eyebrows. “Do you think she would have defenses on her office that could keep me out?”

“No. That’s not the point. Everyone knows that you killed your own father, Theo, even if most of them think it was just him, and just in self-defense. If Umbridge turns up dead tomorrow, you’re going to be the only suspect.”

Theo sighs a little. He hates it when Harry is right like this. But he is. Theo was already questioned by Umbridge, and Umbridge will have either bragged around the Ministry about targeting Harry, or actually been told to do it. Of course they would think it was Harry’s boyfriend who killed her.

Probably even if I didn’t have a previous record of murder at all.

“Fine,” Theo mutters.

“You’re adorably sulky when I won’t let you commit murder.”

At least Harry sounds fond and gentle, and Theo tilts his head down and returns Harry’s kiss. When he pulls back, Harry looks a little calmer, which is good in itself.

“So what do you want to do about it?” Theo asks.

“I trust that you can find or brew the potion that will keep Ron’s hand from scarring.”

“Yes. And also obliterate the curse that the Blood Quill would put into the words he was writing on the back of his hand.”

“Curse?”

Merlin, Harry is so—when he draws back like that, his eyes flashing, Theo just wants to pin him onto the couch and climb on top of him. He restrains his instincts with difficulty, and nods. “Yeah. Depending on what she had him write, Weasley might find it difficult to tell lies from now on, or disobey the Ministry, or otherwise resist the command. What was it she had him write?”

“I must not tell lies.”

Theo nods again. “We definitely want to make sure to give him more than just Murtlap or Dittany, then. Those would stop the bleeding, but they won’t get rid of the long-term effects.”

“Why would anyone use something like that?”

“A Blood Quill can bind someone to an oath. Of course, when it’s used for its legitimate purpose, such as to make sure that someone abides by what’s in a contract, it’s fine.”

“I want to kill her.”

Theo really does have serious trouble keeping his tongue in his mouth. It means that he takes a moment to clear his throat, and then he says, “They would suspect you even faster than they did me.”

“They don’t know how hard I’ve been training with Dark Arts.”

“Right. And we want to keep that secret for a while.”

Harry is the one who’s sulking now. Theo kisses him lightly and doesn’t point that out.

“Will Weasley be all right with drinking the potion? And not defying her in the future?”

“He should be fine. I’ll tell him I stole the potion from Snape. And he didn’t mean to defy her this time. His temper just got the better of him, and he really didn’t expect to see her there, you know.”

Theo just nods. He suspects that this isn’t the last time one of Harry’s friends will have an encounter with the Blood Quill. If nothing else, Granger will have trouble keeping her tongue behind her teeth.

But it doesn’t much matter. What matters is holding Harry’s eyes and reaching past him to cage Harry with his arms against the couch, as he whispers, “Have I told you how hot you are right now?”

Harry’s eyes are brilliant with lust a moment later, his mouth hot, and Theo happily forget about Weasley and Granger’s problems for a while.

*

“Mr. Nott, if you could stay after class.”

It’s Snape speaking, so of course Harry flashes Theo a look of concern. Theo gives him a small smile and turns to face Snape. They already brewed the potion for Weasley, all made from ingredients that Theo already had, so they didn’t need to steal anything from Snape. And Theo will count on his Occlumency and his refusal to meet Snape’s eyes to protect any secrets they truly need to keep.

Harry, reassured, leaves the class with his friends. Theo waits, an amiable expression with a smile on his face, his eyes fastened somewhere on Snape’s robes.

“I do not know what you are doing. But it will not work.”

“I have a lot of plans in motion, Professor. Could I know to which you’re referring?”

Snape bangs a hand down on his desk. Theo just waits. Loud noises don’t frighten him by themselves, the way they might frighten someone like Harry, who grew up with loud and raging Muggles.

Father preferred more subtle methods of punishment.

“You are trying to detach Harry Potter from the Headmaster,” Snape hisses, and leans closer. His eyes are boring into Theo’s forehead. Theo studies the fascinating wrinkles in his professor’s dark robes. “It will not work. The boy will never value you above the Gryffindor principles he has dedicated himself to.”

Theo really does have to work to keep the laughter off his face, given the way that Harry took to lessons in the Dark Arts. “Harry values me more, sir.”

“The way that he went and spilled the news of the Dark Lord’s survival to the papers? A purely Gryffindor move.”

“He did it for me. I might not have wanted him to do it if we’d had a chance to talk before that, but I can’t doubt his motive.”

“You will be hurt.”

“That’s a risk I choose to run, Professor.”

Snape stares at him with a sneer cracking down the middle of his face. Theo just waits.

“To think that I always considered you one of my more intelligent Slytherins in your year,” Snape snaps at last. “Very well. I will cease my attempts to talk you out of this, to make you see that a Potter is never worth loving. Go ahead and break your foolish, childish heart if you choose to do that.”

“Thank you, Professor. Your blessing means a lot.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Snape’s voice is so low and vicious that Theo just turns around and walks away. He shakes his head as he goes. He already knew that he couldn’t count on Snape for much, not after some of the things that Snape said to him last year after he started dating Harry.

But he does wonder if Snape was trying to detach him from Harry on the Headmaster’s orders, or if his ideas come from some kind of skewed protective instinct when it comes to defending Theo’s heart…

Or if it’s something else altogether.

Theo will keep an indirect eye on Professor Snape.

Chapter Text

“I challenge you to a duel, Nott!”

Theo looks up from his book slowly. Davis is standing in front of him in the middle of the common room, her fingers tucked tightly around her wand. Her eyes are wide and her jaw set.

Her eyes are also terrified.

Theo takes time in laying his quill aside. People are starting to pay attention, including Draco craning his neck, but that doesn’t mean that Theo needs to hurry.

“Do you?” Theo tilts his head towards Davis. “What kind of duel, where should it take place, and what kinds of spells are you planning on using?”

Davis is sweating now, openly. Theo isn’t the only one who’s going to notice that, but realistically, it might not change much. After all, Davis is making this challenge because of her father, or whoever else in the Death Eaters’ ranks is putting pressure on him, not because she really wants to. Just look at her. If she loses or wins, they’ll continue driving her to do what they want.

Unless Theo makes sure that they can’t.

He starts to smile, and Davis gulps back a first response before she snaps, “Of course we’ll duel in the middle of the common room, the way Slytherins have since time immemorial! And of course any spells are allowed!”

“Lethal ones?”

“What? No!”

“Unforgivables? Dark Arts? The Maiming Curses?”

“Ordinary spells used in duels, Nott!” Davis holds her wand up in front of her and waggles it back and forth towards him, a taunting gesture that would look better if she weren’t shaking so badly she almost drops it. “Unless you’re scared?”

“Blaise, if you would set up the wards so that no one else is damaged?” Theo asks softly, his gaze on Davis. “And the furniture, of course. It’s important to make sure that the furniture is preserved.”

“Of course, Theo.”

Theo smiles as he stands, and it’s gentle and merciless and makes Davis back up a step. But she continues to stand there, because she’s more afraid of whoever’s pulling her leash than she is of him.

That will change.

There are so many people paying attention now that Theo is sure word of this will make its way back to Davis’s father even before Davis herself can write to him. It doesn’t matter. As long as he understands why he won’t be able to send his daughter against Theo or Harry after this, that’s all Theo requires.

He steps into place across from Davis as the wards flicker into being around them. Davis darts her eyes back and forth and swallows audibly. Theo gives another pleasant smile and twitches his wand.

“Let’s begin, Davis. As the challenger, right to cast first falls to you.”

The way she fumbles for her wand would make Theo feel sorry for her if he were that kind of person. As it is, he simply watches, and snaps up a shield to block the simple jinx she gets off.

She casts others hastily, her face blazing in the light from the fire as the sweat slides down her cheeks and forehead. Theo shields, walking closer to her each time, until less than a meter separates them. She hasn’t made him dodge or flinch so far. From the way that Davis’s eyes are widening, she knows what that means, know that he can destroy her if he catches her.

She breaks before Theo thought she would, flinging all her power into the curse she chooses. “Ossa torqueo!”

This one, Theo can’t block with a simple shield. It’s too powerful. He takes a step to the side, and the Bone-Twister splashes against the wards and dissipates into nothingness.

Davis backs up another step. Theo pauses, watching her. In a way, it would testify to his power if she simply surrenders before he casts a single offensive spell.

But no, she’s snarling at him in a ridiculous show of bravado. Theo mentally shrugs. Very well, then.

He doesn’t verbalize the spell that he casts at Davis. He doesn’t have to. It’s one Father made him learn silently even before he came to Hogwarts. Theo had to be able to cast it on the animals Father conjured to avoid having it cast on him.

Davis screams aloud as she drops her wand and claws at her face. However, nothing appears on her head or hair. The Slytherins watching snap their eyes back and forth between her and Theo, seeking some answer.

Theo turns his pleasant smile on them, and they flinch and shiver. It’s about one in five who can hold his eyes.

“It’s a spell that cuts off all her senses,” he explains, in the same patient and gentle tone that his father used to use with him. “Right now, she can’t see or hear anything. She can’t smell anything. If she had been eating, she wouldn’t taste anything. She can’t even feel her fingers clawing at her face. One can do quite a bit of damage to themselves under the influence of this spell before one stops.

“I’ll be merciful and remove it in one minute. A minute and a half under the spell, total.”

He flicks his wand and conjures a tiny golden hourglass with enough sand for one minute, another spell that Father was so good as to teach him. Theo wonders idly as he watches the sand fall and listens to Davis scream if Father ever supposed that Theo would someday use his skill at magic to murder the man who had taught it to him.

No. He wouldn’t have thought that. He was too prideful for it, too arrogant.

The sand runs out. Theo, true to his word, gestures lazily with his wand and releases Davis from the curse. She collapses to the floor, moaning aloud, and then gets to her feet and runs towards the girls’ dormitories, leaving her wand behind. She bangs into the wall once on the way.

Theo watches her go, then faces his audience again. This time, the ripple of flinching that runs around the edges of it can’t be missed.

“I can do other things,” Theo says. “I can be less than kind. I suggest you think about that, the next time you want to challenge me to a duel.” His eyes seek out dear Draco, who is already staring down at his lap as if he hopes that Theo won’t notice him. “Or the next time your family members want you to challenge me. Or Harry.”

The sound of Harry’s name makes them flinch harder than ever. Theo nods around, not pausing for applause, and then saunters back to Blaise’s side as his best friend takes down the wards. There is a silence as thick as cushions all around them.

“Some of them aren’t so much impressed with the spell as they are that you cast it silently,” Blaise murmurs to him, barely audible, as Theo picks up his book on blood curses again.

Theo shrugs. “Silent casting isn’t hard if you do it properly,” he says aloud, ignoring the way that some people who started to turn back towards his and Blaise’s corner of the common room flinch again. “If one is powerful enough.”

Silence, except for Blaise’s muffled chuckles. Theo smiles at him, and starts making notes again.

People who might have jostled him on his way out of the common room leave him a broad path. Theo has no ambition to control or cow other Slytherins the way the Dark Lord did, but he has to admit, it feels bloody good to know that they fear him.

Hatred is never far behind fear, Father’s voice chides him from inside his skull.

And that’s true, but anyone who strikes at Theo will hate him less than Father did. And for that matter, anyone who strikes at him or Harry will hate them less than Theo hated his father and hates Voldemort.

I rather pride myself on my power of hatred.

*

“Mr. Nott. If you would stay after class, please.”

Umbridge’s simpering fills Theo with disgust. But he nods and turns around with a variation of that pleasant smile he used in the duel with Davis. Umbridge isn’t intelligent enough to fear it. “Of course, Professor.”

Umbridge titters and waits for the other students to leave. Harry twists his head as he does, his eyes wide and owl-like as he stares at Theo.

It will be all right, Theo says with a nod, and Harry believes him enough to walk out.

Umbridge waves her wand to shut the door, almost catching Harry’s heels. “I wanted to give you the security of a few weeks back into the term before I talked to you, Mr. Nott,” she says, voice a singsong. “To ensure that you didn’t feel the kind of confusion I thought you might have felt before.”

“Confusion?” Theo asks politely. “Sorry, Professor, I don’t know for sure what that means.”

“What can we call it but confusion, when the only son of a very promising pureblood family takes up with a lying half-blood?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize Harry was lying about something specific.”

“Surely you understand that the photographs of You-Know-Who in the papers must have been a sort of trick?”

Theo blinks innocently at her. “Oh, but I was in the graveyard, Professor Umbridge. I know for sure that he tried to come back. It’s true that he failed, but I wouldn’t dismiss his existence out of hand.”

Umbridge’s nostrils flare. Then she says, very softly, “I am disappointed in you, Mr. Nott.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Professor.”

“I do not believe that you are.” Umbridge leans forwards and stares at him as if hoping to find the truth in his eyes, but Theo doesn’t feel any of the pushing against his thoughts that would imply she’s a Legilimens. He simply stands there, and Umbridge turns away with a sneer that’s like the stomping of a foot. “Detention. Tonight at seven, Mr. Nott.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Theo leaves, and finds Harry waiting less than a corridor away. He starts forwards the instant he sees Theo, his eyes wide. “What are you—did you—”

“She assigned me detention.”

“You’re not going.”

Theo shivers. He knows that the other Slytherins find him intimidating after his duel with Davis, but honestly, he almost wishes they could see the way that Harry’s eyes blaze right now, hear how his voice deepens as he steps towards Theo. Or see the way that his head swings as his eyes lock on Umbridge’s closed door.

A lick of flame appears near its surface.

Theo shudders with lust and jerks Harry deeper into the corridor, kissing him hard enough to subdue the incipient fire. Harry kisses him back, but pulls away with a certain manic light in his eyes. “If she uses a Blood Quill on you…”

“I don’t believe she would. I’m a pureblood.”

“So’s Ron!”

“Yes, but someone who has a certain reputation in the eyes of people like Umbridge.”

Harry pauses, then nods. There’s still a storm in his eyes, but he reaches out and lays a hand over Theo’s. “I won’t make a fuss about this if you promise me that you’re going to be safe.”

“I promise,” Theo purrs. “Now. I think there’s a classroom around the corner where we can Transfigure a bed and no one will come by.”

Harry’s eyes light up, and he’s the one who leads Theo there with impatient tugs on his arms. Theo is just as glad that no one from Slytherin stands a chance of seeing Harry like this, come to think of it.

Theo wants this miracle all to himself.

*

Theo knocks on Umbridge’s door at precisely seven. His mind is floating in happy memories of what he did with Harry that afternoon, and he steps forwards a second after the door opens.

“A minute late, Mr. Nott.”

“I’m sorry, professor.”

It amuses Theo a little that even having said that, Umbridge still doesn’t take points from Slytherin. She makes little dusting motions around herself as if she’s clearing off a place to sit, even though there’s a desk in front of her desk already, with a chair in front of it. There’s a scroll of parchment resting on the desk, and a quill waiting next to it.

Theo stretches his magic forwards. He’s not as good as Blaise is at sensing magic around him, but he can sense enough to know that the quill isn’t an ordinary one.

She’s trying the Blood Quill after all.

Theo’s blood rises and pounds. He can’t stop smiling.

“I am sure I do not see what is funny, Mr. Nott.”

Theo turns and faces her. He keeps the smile on his face, but turns it into something softly chiding. “Professor, do you think I would really pick up a Blood Quill and inscribe lines on my own skin?”

Umbridge only pauses for a moment, but it’s enough to tell Theo that he hasn’t misread the situation. She leans back in her chair and utters a tinkling little laugh. “I would never expect something like that, Mr. Nott! What makes you think I have a Blood Quill here?”

“The way the light caught the nib.”

There. Umbridge can’t prove him wrong.

She pauses, and then stands up and walks over to the desk with the parchment and the quill. Theo turns as if politely to watch her pass, but really, it’s to keep her in his line of sight. She is holding her wand.

He has his in his holster, ready to leap out if she does anything.

Umbridge stares down at the quill and then lifts her hand and touches it to her lips with a delicate gasp. “It is! My apologies, Mr. Nott! I never expected this to happen!”

“It’s all right, professor. I think we all have something unexpected happen sometimes.”

She turns to him and simpers. “Perhaps you’ll just want to write regular lines, like a dear? Or you could do something else for your detention.”

“I don’t mind lines, Professor, if that’s what you want me to do,” Theo says, so earnest that she actually stares at him for a moment as though wondering who he is and what he’s done with Theo Nott.

But a second later, Umbridge shakes her head and returns to her desk, reaching for something that turns out to be a set of teacups and small saucers. “I thought we could have tea, Mr. Nott, and you could tell me about yourself.”

“Oh, I suppose we can do that,” Theo says, and feigns discomfort as he sits down in the chair. “But I’m not really that interesting.”

“The boyfriend of the infamous Mr. Potter? I can’t imagine that you’re not interesting!”

“Well, Harry is more interesting than I am.”

Theo narrows his eyes and tilts his head. And yes. She’s pulling out a vial of gleaming, clear liquid. She’s going to try Veritaserum on him.

Theo refrains from rolling his eyes, but really. How obvious and clumsy can one get?

He flicks his wand when she lifts the vial, and the three drops angle and stretch, clinging to the vial. Umbridge hums, seeming to miss the fact that none of the potion actually spills into his drink. Then again, with the low firelight in the office and the fact that the potion is transparent, it’s an easier mistake to make than it might appear.

Umbridge turns around with a disgusting smile and offers him a teacup she seems to believe is doctored. “Drink up, dear.”

Theo sips the tea. Veritaserum fails to wrap around his mind. He hides a smile. The tea is inferior to everything he’s ever had before, including the stuff that Narcissa Malfoy used to serve when Theo accompanied Father on visits to Malfoy Manor.

Umbridge barely touches her own tea, leaning forwards in anticipation. Theo thinks of a few different ways to play it, and then hits on the perfect one. He smiles at Umbridge and goes right on sipping the tea.

Umbridge looks baffled.

“It’s fairly good tea, Professor,” Theo says at last. “But not my favorite. I can give you recommendations, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“How did Mr. Potter stage those photographs?”

“What does this have to do with tea, Professor?”

“I want you to answer my questions!” Umbridge’s voice is a little shrill, which makes Theo frown. “You must tell the truth!”

Theo just shakes his head. “I was telling the truth about the tea, Professor. Did you want recommendations for blends? Of course,” he pauses and looks down and shrugs a little, “I didn’t mean to insult your taste in tea. But I thought I could offer my services, if that’s why you wanted me to try the tea.”

“When did you begin dating Mr. Potter?”

“I say, Professor. That’s a bit private.”

“I insist on an answer!”

“You could probably find someone who would tell you the approximate time last year, but I don’t think I owe you one,” Theo says firmly. “Asking about students’ personal lives is beyond the pale, truly.”

Umbridge stares from him to the cup of tea in his hands. Theo raises his eyebrows and gives her a confused look, playing to the hilt the role of student who doesn’t know that he’s miraculously managing to resist Veritaserum.

“Get out of my sight.”

Theo sighs and sets the teacup down on the desk. “All right, Professor. I honestly didn’t mean to insult your taste in tea. But I think that you should know—”

“Out!”

Theo leaves the office with a headshake. Once he’s out the door and a few corners away and sure that he’s beyond the reach of any spying or eavesdropping spells Umbridge might have in place, he lengthens his stride.

They know that Umbridge has Veritaserum now. That means they have to change some of their plans.

Chapter Text

“I hate her.”

Theo adjusts himself in his pants as he listens to the dark passion in Harry’s voice. Harry is pacing around the classroom where they meet on a regular basis, his hands clenched in front of him. There’s a slight, metallic shimmer in the air around him that Theo thinks is his magic manifesting outside his control.

He’s such a vision.

“I know,” Theo says, called reluctantly back to the present as Harry pivots on one heel and stares at him. “But you know that we can’t just break into her office and take the Veritaserum. She’d only get more.”

“I’d like to break her head.”

Theo shivers. “It’s a good choice,” he says softly as Harry looks at him again. “Breaking a limb can be easily healed, of course. Even a broken spine or neck can, most of the time, as long as the person isn’t left for hours without a Healer. But a skull? I know Muggles can spend years in comas because of broken skulls. So can witches.”

Harry smiles at him. His eyes burn, and he takes a step towards Theo. Theo opens his arms to receive him.

Someone knocks on the door of their classroom.

Theo stifles a groan under his breath. But he knows that it must be important. Blaise, Luna, and Neville are the only other people who know where Theo and Harry meet on a regular basis, and both Blaise and Neville would disturb them because of serious news and nothing else.

Luna might disturb them for something else, but she would have wandered straight in without bothering to knock.

Theo casts a charm to deflate his erection, hissing a little in pain, and Harry smirks at him as he turns towards the door. “Yes?” he calls.

Neville steps inside, swallowing a little when he sees them. “I—I hope that I’m not interrupting anything,” he says, and although he doesn’t stutter every word, Theo can hear the sound of it around the edges of his voice.

“Of course not.” Theo smiles at him and watches Neville’s shoulders straighten with confidence. After a summer spent together, Theo knows exactly how to handle Neville. It’s a pity that the tactics don’t work as well on Harry’s other Gryffindor friends.

“Only my gran sent me a book, and—”

“Did you check it for curses?” Harry asks, surging forwards a step before he stops. He stares at Neville in concern. “Given what happened the last time you talked to her…”

“I know.” Neville gives Harry a smile that’s less complicated than the ones he tends to aim at Theo, which is all right with Theo. It’s right that Harry and Neville should have an easy friendship, especially since they’re in the same House. “But I did check it, and it doesn’t have anything like that on it. I think she sent it to me because she’s hoping to lure me back home.”

“Why? What’s the book about?”

Neville turns to Theo and takes the thick tome out of his shoulder bag. Theo squints. Yeah, it does look as though Neville would find interesting. The History of Cultivating Magical Plants: From Aconite to Zebra’s Magic.

“What did you find in it?” Harry asks.

“It was a passing mention, but I remembered what you said in the Prophet about the snake who was with You-Know-Who at the graveyard.” Neville takes a deep breath and sits down in the middle of the couch beside Theo, who is especially glad that he learned the charm to deflate his erection. “And one of the plants mentioned can make a potion that cures the venom of any snake.”

Theo raises his eyebrows. That would be useful when they face Voldemort again.

Or if they face another basilisk, although Theo intends to ensure that never happens, even if he has to tie Harry up and sit on him to keep him from running back into the Chamber of Secrets.

“Thanks, Neville!” Harry comes over to sit on the other side of Theo, leaning over so that he can see the page Neville is pointing to. “Can we borrow the book when you’re done with it?”

Neville abruptly looks nervous, enough that Theo considers reaching for his wand. But he just takes a scroll from his robe pocket and holds it shyly out. “I made a copy of everything the book says about the plant.”

Theo smiles and takes the scroll, then hands it to Harry. Harry promptly starts chattering to Neville about finding a place they can try to grow the plant, or whether Neville is familiar with any place it already grows, so that they can start harvesting it.

Theo leans back and watches his lover with half-lidded eyes. Harry flushes a little, showing that he’s aware of the gaze, but all he does is reach out and lay a seemingly casual hand on Theo’s knee.

That’s all right with Theo. He entwines his fingers with Harry’s and lets himself drift, secure in the company of Gryffindors as he could never be around Slytherins.

*

“There is a reason, I am sure, that you are remaining after class, Mr. Nott.”

“Yes, sir. I’d like the answer to a question.”

Snape turns to face Theo fully, his robes falling around him in soft waves, his eyes locked on Theo’s face. Theo ducks his head a little in what Snape can take as respect if he wants, but simply allows Theo to avoid any Legilimency the man is trying to use.

“What question is that, Mr. Nott?”

“Did you provide Umbridge with the Veritaserum that she’s using?”

Harry thought that asking Snape the question was a stupid idea. He told Theo that Snape wouldn’t give anything away one way or the other, or would just give a sarcastic answer that would confuse matters further. And, Harry argued, it didn’t matter much where Umbridge got the Veritaserum in the first place; it only matters that she tried to use it.

But Theo has something specific that he wants to look for, and he doesn’t think Snape will hide it from him the way he would have in front of Harry or another Gryffindor asking him the same question.

Snape grows even more still, his nostrils flaring for a second. Then he says, “Do not ask stupid questions, Mr. Nott.”

“I ask sincere ones. Sir.”

“Then you should know how many politics are at play, and how not even the Headmaster could prevent the Ministry from appointing Umbridge as a professor.”

“No,” Theo says softly. “He couldn’t.”

“Leave, Mr. Nott.”

Theo does, slipping out of the classroom and walking calmly towards Arithmancy, which he doesn’t share with Harry. Blaise gives him a concerned glance when Theo slips in, almost late, enough to make Vector look at him sternly. Theo ducks his head to their professor with a murmured apology and waits until they’re working on their individual equations to update Blaise on what Snape said.

“Snape told me that there were politics at play, and not even Dumbledore could stop Fudge from appointing Umbridge.”

“All right? That just sounds like confirmation of what you already knew.”

“But my asking the question does two things. First, it does give him knowledge of the Veritaserum if he didn’t know about it before. The professors will know Umbridge is using it, and it’ll be interesting to see if they do anything in response.”

“Fancy you thinking that they would,” Blaise murmurs, although he lowers his voice as Vector paces past their desks and pauses to help Ernie Macmillan with his equation. Honestly, Theo has no idea how a pompous arse like Macmillan even lasted this long in Arithmancy.

“I’d still like to see.”

“And the second thing the question does?”

“It allows Snape to suggest to me that Umbridge having Veritaserum or using the Blood Quill or assigning detentions or anything else like that ultimately doesn’t matter, because the professors will feel that their hands are tied by politics and not help.”

“Do you think he meant to suggest that to you?”

“Oh, not in a helpful way. He thinks that I’m hopeless for dating a Potter. But it does give a warning that we shouldn’t count on Dumbledore or McGonagall or the like to come sweeping in any time soon.”

“Then what’s the point of letting them know about Veritaserum? Why are you waiting to see if they act if you know they won’t act?”

“There’s a particular secret that both Harry and I are carrying which Dumbledore wants to keep protected. My mentioning Veritaserum suggests that Umbridge tried to use it on me or Harry, since Snape would know that Umbridge hasn’t assigned you or Neville or Luna detention and I don’t give much of a shit about anyone else. I want to see if this does change the way Dumbledore acts, even if it’s just the vanishing of Veritaserum from Umbridge’s office.”

“If he acts in a way that you can’t detect?”

“I think he would summon Harry to patronize him about how much we owe the all-wise Headmaster.”

Blaise laughs, and Vector turns around and frowns again. Blaise and Theo obediently bend over their parchment.

Theo does find Arithmancy academically interesting, if nothing else. It’s more than can be said for a lot of his classes now that he has a boyfriend to protect, Horcruxes to destroy, and a Dark Lord to fight.

*

Dumbledore does nothing.

Harry catches Theo’s eye over lunch the next day and shakes his head. So no warnings or secret visits or “unexpected” meetings in the corridors that Dumbledore might have managed to engineer with Harry when Theo wasn’t around.

There are no cryptic warnings, either, and none of the Heads of House say anything, from what Luna says and the casual questions that Theo manages to ask Ernie Macmillan, who will talk about anything because he thinks people are in breathless need of his wisdom.

It’s not—disappointing, exactly. Theo expected this. But it would have been easier to fight Umbridge’s Veritaserum if one adult stood behind them, or just warned their students that being targeted with a truth potion was a possibility.

Well, they tried, and nothing came of it. Theo puts the lost chance out of his mind, and launches into working on their next plan.

Disabling Umbridge in such a way that it’ll look like an accident, not only to their paranoid Minister, but to the Headmaster and Snape. It doesn’t matter that much if they really believe it is. The point is to make sure that they have no evidence to accuse Theo and Harry of anything.

*

“I suppose, if we can’t locate Horcruxes yet, we can at least think about things that he might have turned into one.”

“His diary. So objects that are important to him.”

“But we don’t know much about those. His wand?”

Theo snorts. “We were close to his wand in the graveyard. I think that, no matter what, we would have felt the miasma that that sort of thing puts out.”

“Miasma? I was around the diary a little in my second year, and I don’t remember it stinking or anything like that.”

Theo has to pause and reconsider. It does seem as if they might have to choose a different tactic if Harry can’t recognize the drape of Dark magic that Theo was taught to. “It’s—a sense of power. Danger. I only call it a miasma because that’s a name I’ve read in books. You can sense that an object is aware of you, that it wants to be used.”

“Yes. All right. I know what you mean with the diary.” Harry’s voice is subdued. “It was a lot more interesting than I would have expected a random book someone threw away in a bathroom to be.”

Theo reaches out and takes Harry’s hand. They’re sitting beside each other on the couch in their classroom, a forgotten book on soul magic balanced between their knees, Harry’s head on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You were never taught to defend yourself against anything like that. Of course you didn’t recognize it when you ran into it.”

Harry takes a breath as though he’s going to argue with Theo about this, but in the end, he just shakes his head and leans a little harder on his shoulder. “Fine. Then can you teach me to do it in case we find another Horcrux?”

“Of course. But there’s something else we need. It would be best to know exactly what the possession feels like, and the diary never possessed you.”

“What do you think we should—Ginny.”

Harry’s tensed. Theo smooths a thumb down his shoulder. “Yes. There’s a spell that can pull memories from someone else, an adaptation of the one that puts your own memories in a Pensieve. Talk to her long enough, lure her close, and I can cast it. She won’t notice or be hurt.”

“It just feels—slimy—to use her that way.”

“She has a crush on you. It’ll be easy.”

“She does? But she’s dating Michael Corner, and she never turns red or stammers around me anymore, the way she used to.”

“Trust me,” Theo says darkly, thinking of the way that the Weasley girl’s eyes linger on Harry during meals and when the Gryffindors are traveling anywhere in a pack that includes both the fourth- and fifth-years. “She does.”

“You know that I would never betray you and you have nothing to be jealous of, right?”

“Of course. But it doesn’t mean I like the way she reacts to you.”

“So it would reassure you that I don’t feel anything romantic for her if I used her crush so we can get her memories of being possessed by the diary.”

“You said it, not me.”

Harry gives a long, long sigh, and Theo wonders if they’ve found a line that Harry won’t cross. It’s not like this involves Voldemort, Death Eaters, or someone like Dumbledore or Ron Weasley who’ve acted like idiots to Harry.

But Harry finally says, “I’ll do it.”

Theo rewards him with a kiss for his trouble, and then a little something else that will ensure Harry isn’t thinking of a soft smile and melting eyes at all when he talks to Weasley. Because Theo knows his own weaknesses, but that doesn’t mean missing all the chances to indulge them.

*

“Why do you want to know what it was like for me to be possessed?”

“Because, frankly, I encountered the diary, too. And I think if Voldemort made one artifact that could do that, he could make more. I want to know what it feels like in case I find another one.”

Theo, who’s standing around the corner from the fifth-floor corridor where Harry asked Weasley to meet with him, grimaces a little. He thinks that Harry could have chosen wording and an explanation that didn’t match so closely with what a Horcrux actually is. Weasley isn’t stupid, even if Theo despises her a little for her crush on Harry. She might start thinking and remembering—

But from the way Weasley breathes out, “Oh,” she’s just thinking about Harry being in danger or something. Theo risks a glance around the corner.

He almost wishes he hadn’t. Because Weasley is standing close to Harry and staring up at him from beneath her eyelashes and even though of course Theo knows that nothing would happen and he trusts Harry completely—

He still wants to march down there and show her some of the spells Father made him learn.

“Yeah.” Harry rubs the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “I hate to ask you to relive that experience, but you’re the only one I know who would have anything like it—”

“I’m happy to help, Harry.” Weasley steps a little closer to him, but Harry avoids her touch without seeming to notice her hand reaching out. Weasley hides her disappointment well, if she feels it. “Okay. So you just want me to tell you what I can remember of the possession?”

“Your memories aren’t that clear, right?”

“No.” Weasley shivers and glances away from Harry, her eyes so distant that Theo knows she isn’t seeing anything in the corridor with them. “Not even the Chamber. You’d think I would remember the place I almost died, but—” She bites her lip and falls silent.

“It’s okay, Ginny. You were undergoing some pretty bloody traumatic things.”

“Yeah.” Weasley exhales and faces Harry again. “All right. Before I came to Hogwarts, writing in the diary just felt like it was an ordinary book, honestly. I was happy that Tom was responding to me. It felt like a special gift just for me. Someone who was interested in who I was, Ginny, not just the youngest Weasley daughter.”

Theo begins the long spells that will remove a copy of the memory from her brain without her noticing it, rolling his eyes as he does. Yes, of course a book magical and powerful enough to write back to its owner would be interested in a random eleven-year-old witch. That alone ought to have been enough for Weasley to take the book to her parents.

“And when I got to Hogwarts, it started to change.”

A thin stream of milky light forms in the air between Theo and Weasley. It’s one of those things that someone would have to be looking very closely to see, and even then, it would probably just look like drifting dust. Harry, focused on listening to Weasley, doesn’t seem to see it himself. Theo guides his wand back and forth, incanting the spell again and again in his head. Technically, it’s a charm to summon a small portion of a memory. It has to be repeated many times to build up the whole thing.

“Tom seemed—a lot more vehement about things. He started telling me that he knew secrets about the history of the school, secrets he would share with me if I just did what he said.”

“What did he want you to do?”

“First it was to go to this girls’ bathroom on the second floor and look around. And then when I found the sink with the snake, he seemed happy, and told me that it related to the secret of why Salazar Slytherin was driven out of the school by Gryffindor.”

Yes, that knowledge would be totally worth risking your life and sanity for.

“Did he ever actually tell you?”

“No.” Weasley tosses her hair. “I don’t think there even is a secret. I think it was just Slytherin feuding with Gryffindor about admitting Muggleborns, the way history says.”

She can learn!

“All right. And what was it like when he started telling you to kill the roosters and go down into the Chamber?”

Weasley speaks in a halting voice, but Theo has to let the sense of the words blur past him. He’s reached the delicate stage of the spell, and has to swish his wand and recite the incantation constantly in his mind. His wrist is aching with the repetitive movements by the time that Weasley stumbles to a stop and says, “That’s—there’s nothing that’s really different.”

The blurred shapes forming in the air in front of Theo have become a series of about ten memories, connected with thin bridges of silvery light. Theo studies them and nods. He knows that Weasley might know more, but they should have everything they need now.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Ginny.” Harry’s voice is earnest, and Theo leans around the corner again to watch Harry put a hand on Weasley’s shoulder. “I know it can’t have been easy.”

“I would do a lot more for you, Harry.”

Harry just looks hilariously uncomfortable with the worship in Weasley’s eyes, and he manages to extricate himself from the conversation with a platitude. Theo slips away, taking his own secret passage route back to their classroom in case Weasley comes around the corner where he stood.

When Harry shows up at the classroom door, he says, “Where did you get that Pensieve?’

“Had Cassie owl it to me.” Theo dumps the memories he’s gathered from Weasley into the stone basin and glances back at Harry. “Do you want to watch this now, or do you want to wait a while? I don’t know how much the conversation unsettled you.”

“Most of it was pretty familiar. Yeah, let’s go.”

Theo takes Harry’s hand, and together, they lower their faces and plunge into Weasley’s memories of the diary Horcrux.

Chapter Text

“Tom, I don’t like this.”

“It’s all right, Ginny. I’ll protect you.”

Theo curls his lip at the boy who’s standing in front of Weasley in this memory. She’s in the Chamber, and she’s crouched on the floor, her hands splayed in front of her, and the boy hovers like a flickering flame before her face. He’s handsome, but there’s a cruelty in his expression that reminds Theo all too much of his own father.

“How can you—you had me write that bloody message, how can you protect me—”

“I’ll protect you against what’s coming. The basilisk isn’t going to kill you.”

Theo pulls his gaze away from the memory of Tom Riddle and the memory of Ginny Weasley and looks around the Chamber of Secrets. It’s a lot less impressive than he always thought it would be from the rumors that darted around Slytherin. Plain stone walls except for carved snakes, puddles of water on the floor, an ugly statue.

“Why are we in this memory?” Harry whispers next to him. “It’s the most recent one.”

“The spell takes you into the most powerful one first,” Theo says softly, and watches as horror and fear creep across Weasley’s face. “So it brought us here. It’s probably the first time that she really realized she had to be afraid of him.”

“Tom? Tom, you can’t—”

“I can, although I’m a little sorry for it. You’ve been a good host.” The boy turns and floats, only mimicking the motion of walking, across the stone floor to the small black book not far from Weasley’s splayed right hand. He crouches down and touches the cover of the book, then steps back, shaking his head. “I think you could do more for me, but I’m strong enough that I don’t have to take the risk of being discovered now. You already tried to get rid of the book once. I don’t want to wait for you to try again.”

“But Tom—wait, Tom—you were my friend—”

“That’s what I told you.” Riddle smiles at Weasley and turns away. “But you were a means to an end. You ought to know that at least you will lose your life for a good cause.” And he slashes his hand in an odd motion, as if his fingers are a wand.

Blackness tears across the memory. They flicker and dart through scattered moments when Weasley seems to be trying to come back to consciousness in the middle of the fight Harry’s having with the basilisk, and they can hear Riddle’s taunting voice. Theo, though, draws Harry over to the side where they can avoid watching the Horcrux shade and the basilisk, so that they can attune themselves to the miasma flowing from the book.

It’s foul, so foul that Theo wants to snarl. It’s a little puzzling to him that neither Harry nor Weasley evidently reacted to it.

But when he glances to the side, he realizes that might be a thing of the past. At least here, Harry’s eyes are wide, and he’s pressing back so that he’s up against Theo’s side instead of out in the memory of the Chamber.

“Why did I never sense how foul the thing was before?” he whispers.

Theo shakes his head. “Maybe because you only had brief contact with it, maybe because you’re learning more about mental effects like Occlumency and Legilimency now.” He thinks that having Crouch cast the Imperius on him last year, and the way that Harry managed to resist it, might have sensitized Harry to noticing when something tries to mentally control him, but he doesn’t want to bring it up right now.

“I can’t imagine that I won’t recognize another one.” Harry swallows next to him as more black flashes tear across their vision, Weasley’s memory juddering and breaking up along the lines of her consciousness. “It’s terrible.”

Theo nods and says nothing. The miasma of this Horcrux is like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he’s had plenty of exposure to cursed artifacts that Father used to teach him what Dark Arts feels like.

Tom Riddle got into this at sixteen, at least, if not younger.

It makes Theo’s contempt for Voldemort run all the deeper.

The memory finally collapses back into a basilisk fang stuck through the diary and Weasley crying as Harry stoops down next to her. Then fog rolls in from the sides and consumes the memory, and they’re inside another one, this time of Weasley tearing frantically through a trunk that looks like Harry’s.

“Looking for the diary after she knew I had it?” Harry murmurs. “I wonder if she could partially sense it, and it led her there, because I didn’t think we talked about it in front of her. But I could be misremembering.”

Theo nods in silence, and they watch as Weasley pulls out the diary and holds it in shaking hands. She looks awful, and the stink of the book is as bad as it was in the Chamber. Theo wouldn’t be surprised to see it rolling around her in a choking cloud.

Weasley turns around at a slight noise, and once again, fog comes in to consume the memory. Then they’re in one of her sliding down an enormous pipe covered with slime.

“Where’s this?” Theo murmurs to Harry.

“The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, off the girls’ bathroom Moaning Myrtle haunts,” Harry whispers back. His eyes are fastened on Weasley as they follow slowly behind her in the odd floating way that a memory can achieve.

Theo grimaces, but he reckons that even the entrance to the legendary Chamber would get like this if no one were coming down and cleaning it regularly.

They follow Weasley through a long tunnel past a crumbling basilisk skin, and up to two huge stone doors covered with carved snakes that have emeralds for eyes and make Theo shudder. Weasley strides up to them, not the way she usually moves, and hisses. Harry is the one to shudder this time.

“You told me she could speak Parseltongue when she was possessed…”

“Yeah. Of course. I just didn’t get her to hear her do it, and it—sounds different when someone is speaking it who isn’t born to it or isn’t a snake. Or doesn’t have it because of having a Horcrux in their soul, I suppose.”

Harry sounds so bitter that Theo squeezes his hand even as they edge nearer the doors so they can watch Weasley entering the Chamber and going up to the statue to release the basilisk. “We can work on that, if you like.”

“Work on what?”

“Work on making sure that you can retain Parseltongue even when we have the Horcrux out of you. If you want.”

Harry is silent. Theo assumes he’s thinking about it, and so he concentrates on where Weasley is caressing the side of the basilisk’s head. She’s giving commands to it in Parseltongue, obviously, but it’s not like Theo can understand them. He shifts his focus, after a moment, to the blazing foulness of the book in an outer pocket of her robe.

“You would do that?”

Theo blinks and glances back at Harry. “Do what?”

“You’d—do extra research and maybe—it would take longer to try and make sure that I can keep part of the magic the Horcrux gave me instead of just getting rid of all it—but you would do that for me?”

“Of course I would.” Theo makes his voice as slow and gentle as he can, all the while wondering why Harry seems so shocked. Has Theo said or done something to make Harry think his love is conditional? “But of course, only if you wanted to. I can see Parseltongue mattering more to someone who’s a Slytherin or likes snakes than it does it to you.”

“I—I don’t use it much, but I do sort of think it would be cool to keep on using it—I should use it more—keep it as a sort of fuck you to all the people who thought I was the Heir of Slytherin in our second year—”

“It’s up to you.”

“I love you a lot. You know that?”

Theo smiles and leans over to kiss him even as the fog rolls in again, confident that they won’t miss anything in Weasley’s memory. Harry shining in front of him, face and eyes and soul alive with hope, is more important.

*

“D’you think that we should tell her?”

Theo looks up, blinking. He’s writing down notes on what he thinks most important in Weasley’s memories, and Harry is the one still standing and staring down into the Pensieve. It takes him a moment to bring his mind back to the matter of Weasley, whom Harry must be talking about. “Tell her what?”

“That we took her memories. If we told her why—”

“We are not telling her about the Horcruxes.”

Harry shoots him an exasperated glance. “I didn’t mean that. But we could tell her that this has to do with defeating Voldemort, and I think she would be more than glad to help us.”

Theo struggles in silence with his feelings about that, while Harry watches him and waits in what seems to be mounting impatience for him to say something. Theo finally swallows and admits, “I was afraid that if we told her that, she would take this as a chance to get closer to you and try to convince you to date her instead.”

“But—I don’t want to date her,” Harry says slowly.

“I know, but she could try to convince you.”

“And you think I’m so shallow that I would just dump you like that? Just because she talked to me about her memories of being possessed by the diary? Yeah, that sounds like a great romantic subject.”

It does sound ridiculous, put that way. But Theo manages to speak the truth, because Harry has done nothing less with him, and revealed some terrible and incriminating things. “She’s—more like you. Gentle and moral. She would be worried about things like taking someone else’s memories without telling them. I’m not. She might be jealous, but she would suppress her jealousy and think she should let you go if you fell in love with someone else. I already told you how impossible that is for me. And sure, right now you’re flattered and you want to cling to me, but what if you don’t, someday? What if, after the war, you want to slow down and be gentler and find someone who’s like that for yourself? Then I’ll be trying to hold onto you, and you’ll be trying to push me away, and it’s—it will be terrible.”

Especially since Theo knows that he wouldn’t be able to let go even then. Harry is the rhythm his heart beats by. He would look pathetic and embarrass himself, but he would do that rather than have no part in Harry’s life at all.

“Hey. Theo. Hey.”

Harry’s voice is soft. Theo becomes aware that he’s turned his head away from his boyfriend and is staring at the back of the Transfigured couch he’s been lying on while he wrote down his notes. He swallows and turns back.

Harry is reaching out to him. He could easily touch Theo if he just stretched a little, but it seems important to him that Theo make that reach. So Theo does, and does his best not to cling to Harry like a Dementor.

“I understand why you’re afraid of that,” Harry says quietly. “We were pretty different people and didn’t know each other at all until the middle of last year. But I promise you, I have no interest in someone who’s gentle, or a Gryffindor, or—I don’t know, moral the way you were phrasing it. I thought it might be a good idea to tell Ginny about the memories because I know her, and she’s Ron’s little sister, and she’s suffered from Voldemort’s possession, too. She might want to know that we’re working on defeating him. But if she was a stranger I didn’t care about? I wouldn’t care about telling her, either.”

Theo raises his eyes, makes himself raise his eye. Harry is there, waiting for him, smiling for him. His hand tightens on Theo’s, and he squeezes so hard that Theo is reminded again of the way that he thinks of himself as bound to Harry by a goshawk’s talons.

Mine. But he’s saying that he’s mine, too. That he won’t leave me.

Theo finally swallows and lets himself believe it. He bows his head and clings to Harry, trembling, and Harry wraps his arms around him.

“It doesn’t matter how much Ginny wants to date me,” Harry whispers. “It doesn’t matter how many other people want to date me or have crushes on me. The important thing is that we have each other, and we have our quest to defeat Voldemort, and I’m not backing down from either.”

Theo leans his head on Harry’s shoulder and lets the feeling of belonging sweep around him until he’s calm and past the fear that Harry might leave him for a pretty Gryffindor girl.

“All right,” he says at last. “We can tell her.”

*

Weasley takes the news well, Theo has to admit that, with nothing more than a slight flicker of her eyes back and forth between them. They decided to meet at a library table near some of the shelves on Divination that very few students investigate.

“And you couldn’t just trust me and ask me openly, why?” she asks, with a glance at Theo.

“Because we didn’t know how you would feel about sharing your memories,” Harry says. It’s true, after all, even though it’s not the ultimate truth that exposes all of Theo’s insecurities. She doesn’t need the ultimate truth. “And, well, I thought that you might hate me for asking.”

“I could never hate you, Harry.”

Weasley is leaning forwards with her eyes big and brilliant and her teeth worrying at her lower lip. Theo opens his mouth. Harry hits Theo’s ankle with his foot before Theo can even make up his mind about what to say, and says with a friendly smile, “That’s great, Ginny. I hope we can be closer friends than we have been.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah. I have a boyfriend, Ginny. I’m not interested in dating anyone else.”

Weasley blinks rapidly a few times, and then she sits back in her chair with a little sigh. “I suppose not,” she whispers. “I hoped, but…you never really looked at me, and then you were looking at a boy, and…I suppose not.”

“No.” Harry reaches across the table to squeeze her hand, which Theo doesn’t think he specifically needs to do, but it’s Harry’s choice. “So. Sorry for not trusting you and taking your memories like that; I should have trusted you more. Are you angry at me?”

“If it helps you defeat Tom? I suppose not.” But Weasley’s voice is subdued, and she’s avoiding looking at Harry for the moment, staring at the table instead. After a moment, she nods. “Thank you for telling me. But never do that again without telling me.”

She snaps a bit on the last word, and Harry smiles and raises his hands. “Don’t worry, Ginny. I won’t.”

She nods, gives Theo a long look, and then stands up and leaves them. Harry takes a deep breath and leans his head on Theo’s shoulder. “Wow, that felt a lot more fraught than dealing with Ron and Hermione ever has.”

“You don’t know her as well. And that meant you didn’t owe her as much, either.” Theo turns and places his lips gently against Harry’s temple, rejoicing in the way that Harry leans on him even more heavily. “But now it’s done, and now we know that maybe we can count her as an ally.”

Maybe Weasley can even be a friend to Harry the way Neville is. But Theo doesn’t know if he can count on that yet. It will depend on how serious she is about giving up her crush.

“Yeah,” Harry says, with the kind of bright smile that says he knows exactly what Theo is thinking. “Maybe we can.”

*

“Detention.”

“Sorry, Professor? What for?”

Theo raises his head from the Slinkhard book, or rather, the book on soul magic that he’s wrapped up in a cover charmed to look like the cover of the Slinkhard book. Umbridge is standing in front of Harry with a smile so sweet that Theo thinks it would crunch between his teeth if he bit into it.

“Well, for not paying attention, Mr. Potter. I saw you look up from the book three times in the past five minutes!”

“I was reminding myself of your instructions on the board, Professor. I’m afraid that I don’t have a very good memory.”

“Oh, dear, Mr. Potter. Then I think we should use the detention time to discuss how we can work on improving your memory.”

Harry just nods without expression and listens to Umbridge giving him an appointment for six that evening. He shoots a quick glance at Theo as he lowers his eyes to the book again—his own book on various methods of destroying cursed artifacts.

Theo smiles a little to himself. There’s no way that he’s letting Harry get anywhere close to Blood Quills or Veritaserum. And that means they need to move a little faster on disabling Umbridge than they had planned on.

But it doesn’t matter. Theo will come up with some way to use the mad surge of rage inside him, instead of making it too obvious, the same way he did when he forced Davis to back down from attacking him.

He’ll do it. And Umbridge will be no one’s problem anymore.

Chapter Text

“Are you all right?”

“Of course. Why?”

Theo pauses before stepping around the corner. He didn’t mean to get here early enough to hear the discussion that Weasley and Granger are apparently having with Harry, but he’s not displeased that he did.

“You just seemed really upset about being assigned detention by Umbridge.”

“I mean, she did it for no reason. And after what she did to Ron…”

“You have to make sure that doesn’t happen to you, Harry.”

Theo rolls his eyes. Does Granger think that Theo would let anyone use a Blood Quill on Harry? Theo was protecting him when Weasley and Granger were still running around nursing hurt feelings about the Goblet of bloody Fire.

Theo restrains his feelings after a moment, though, and shakes his head. No, he can’t think like that for long, or he’ll be so irritated that he’ll lash out at Weasley and Granger. They’re under his protection because they’re Harry’s.

He manages to get a look around the corner without revealing himself, and sees Harry awkwardly patting Granger’s shoulder. Theo sighs. He might be doing his best to accept Weasley and Granger as part of Harry’s life, but it’s just typical, in Theo’s consideration, that Harry has to be the one to comfort Granger about something that’s primarily affecting him.

But again, Theo can do nothing with those feelings, so he might as well push them away.

“I’m going to be fine,” Harry says.

“How can you know that?”

“I just will.”

Granger whinges some more about how awful she feels and how terrible everything is and how Harry didn’t deserve detention, and Harry just nods and pats her vaguely. Theo hides a laugh in his sleeve. At least Harry doesn’t feel as compelled as he did to try and soothe Granger’s feelings every time she gets upset.

“What are you doing peering around the corner like that, Nott?”

Obviously Theo hasn’t done as good a job of remaining unseen as he could have, after all. He puts on an apologetic look and steps around the corner. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, Harry, and ready to walk to your detention.”

“Umbridge got you doing her dirty work now, Nott?”

Theo turns and looks at Weasley without the kind of hatred he would like to use. He just looks, and Weasley is the one who fidgets and stares at the floor and glances away.

“I’m going to make sure that no one thinks that this is a good time for something mysterious to happen to Harry on the way to his detention,” Theo says, and turns back to Harry. He doesn’t resist the urge to extend his arm like he did when he was escorting Harry to the Yule Ball last year. “Shall we, my lord?”

Harry coos and flutters his eyelashes. “Of course, my lord,” he says, and takes Theo’s arm, and walks towards the corner with him.

Weasley and Granger are silent behind them. Theo shoots a glance over his shoulder and sees them standing with their mouths open. They aren’t even looking at each other, but they’re mirroring each other’s expressions perfectly.

He waits to laugh until he gets around the corner, but then he leans against Harry and does so.

Harry grins at him. “Thanks for not snapping at Ron the way I know you wanted to.”

“We’re both in your life, and neither of us is going to leave. If he’s the immature one, I don’t need to be the immature one back.”

“And you still hope that someday he’s going to be so immature or put so much emphasis on annoying you that I’ll get fed up and leave him behind.”

“You know me so well, Harry. I love you.”

“You’re not even denying it?

“Do you want me to lie to you, Harry?”

Harry shoots him a look that mingles exasperation and love, and Theo warms himself beside the fire of it as they walk through the corridors for as long as he can. But Harry halts long before they get to Umbridge’s office, and turns to Theo to stare solemnly into his face.

“What plan do you have?”

“I need your reaction to be as authentic as possible in case they demand Pensieve memories from us, so I’d rather not tell you.”

“They would do that?”

“Well, maybe not under ordinary circumstances. But the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Be-Threatened-By-Ministry-Officials and his boyfriend who’s already tried to alert the professors to her illegal use of Veritaserum? Yes, I think they’ll question us.”

“But that means they could request the Pensieve memory of this conversation, as well.”

“Not if they don’t know it exists.” Theo takes a step closer to Harry and lowers his voice. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to tell them. You’re not planning to tell them, are you, Harry?”

Harry’s breathing is becoming loud and fast, and his eyes are glazed. Theo sighs. He wishes he could stand here and pull Harry into him and think about nothing but how warm his boyfriend’s skin is and how much they could touch each other.

But this is still a corridor in a (relatively) public part of the school, and they will create more suspicion if they’re late for the detention that Umbridge has assigned Harry.

“Come on,” Theo says, and pulls back. “She’ll be expecting you, and we’ll want to make sure that she doesn’t see me, not when she already dislikes me.”

Harry gives him a long, steady look. Theo waits patiently. Ultimately, Harry is the one who has to make the decision. If he does demand to know the plan, Theo will tell him. But he was telling the truth about wanting Harry’s reaction to look natural.

In the end, Harry chooses trust in Theo, as he always does, only clasping his shoulder and leaning in close enough to steal a kiss before he turns and marches down the corridor, his face set in arrogant lines.

Theo trails behind him, smiling.

He was telling the truth about wanting Harry’s reaction to look natural. But he also wants to see the expression Harry will wear when he sees the method Theo has chosen to protect him.

Theo deserves some reward for having to put up with Umbridge this long and going through the interrogation that’s surely going to descend on them from the Ministry.

*

“Mr. Potter. Do come in, do come in.”

Theo stands far enough behind Harry that Umbridge won’t see him, but so that he can see into the office. He hears the mewing of the kitten plates she keeps on the wall as the door opens further, and he aims his wand with utmost care.

So much has to go well for this to work the way he wants it to, but on the other hand, they haven’t been able to come up with better plans, and there are things that will get them investigated if they try them, even if the spells are superficially simpler.

And Theo throws himself into it as he casts the curse, his will to make this work flowing down his wand along with the magic, along with the words flowing through his mind as he thinks, Finis fortunae.

The spell leaps over Harry’s shoulder, nearly clipping him, and crashes into Umbridge. Theo can feel it moving, but there’s no visible sign.

And then—

Umbridge is standing with her hand on the corner of her desk. As she moves a step forwards, her hand slips. She cries out as she leans sideways, and the corner of the desk promptly catches her in the ribs.

She staggers, and her foot comes down on something small on the floor that Theo can’t actually see. Her ankle rolls.

She staggers and gasps, not able to cry out properly, and then she hits something else and tilts sideways. Her head is the thing that slams into the wood of the desk this time, and down she goes, her head also bouncing off the floor with a hollow thunk.

Silence.

Harry stares, and then turns around and gapes at Theo with his mouth open. Theo comes forwards with every appearance of concern and bends down next to Umbridge, waving a hand around as if he doesn’t know where he should touch her. “Professor Umbridge?” he asks loudly.

Nothing happens, of course. Theo heard the sound as her head met the floor, and he also knows what he was willing to happen. Her skull should be cracked now, with her brain perhaps already swelling.

But it will look better if he checks, so he shakes Umbridge by the shoulders, lightly, body tense as if he’s expecting her to leap up and scream at him, and then he draws back and gives Harry a slightly panicked look. “Maybe we ought to run and get a professor?” he suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees, a little dazedly.

He tosses Theo the expression Theo was waiting for as he turns around to leave. He’s impressed and shocked and wondering what kind of magic Theo could either use or teach him.

It’s everything Theo hoped for.

He turns and stares down at Umbridge as he hears Harry’s running footsteps fade up the corridor. He makes sure to keep the right, fearful expression on his face, but no one can change the gloating that echoes like a gong through his being.

It’s only a faint echo of the satisfaction that Theo felt when he killed his father, but still, he’s enjoying the hell out of the moment.

“Veritaserum and Blood Quills,” he whispers, and shakes his head. “Terrible things to happen to anyone, Professor. Just terrible.”

*

The Ministry insists on sending investigators to Hogwarts to look into Umbridge’s death, of course.

Theo expected that. He sits through an “interview” that’s more of a blustering session with Minister Fudge than anything else, and he and Harry probably wouldn’t even be there if not for who Harry is.

Theo just leans his chin in his palm and waits with a few bored blinks for Fudge to ask him a direct question, which he finally does. “Why did you go with Mr. Potter to his detention, Mr. Nott?” he snaps, spinning around to glare at Theo. “Hoping to get Professor Umbridge in trouble, were you?”

“No, sir. It’s because she’d tried to use Veritaserum on me in my own detention, so I wanted to make sure to protect Harry from that.”

McGonagall sucks in a shocked breath and stands up straight. Fudge splutters. Dumbledore bolts upright behind his desk.

“What?” Fudge demands. “You must be lying, boy!”

Theo shrugs a little. Snape is standing behind him, but turning around to meet his eyes would be a little obvious. “No, sir. I managed to manipulate the potion with magic so that I didn’t drink it, and I did tell Professor Snape about it. But I suppose he must be so busy that he forgot to pass the warning on.”

A ringing silence descends on the Headmaster’s office. Theo doesn’t look at Harry this time, mostly because he knows they would both burst out laughing.

“She wasn’t—she wasn’t using Veritaserum!”

“She was, sir,” Harry says, in the kind of soft firm voice that he seems to have learned makes people listen to him. “And she used a Blood Quill on my friend Ron’s hand. I thought that maybe that would get some people involved, since Ron is a pureblood, but I don’t know if he told his parents.”

“Albus!”

McGonagall is breathing fire. Theo doesn’t roll his eyes, but he wants to. She either didn’t care to know or chose not to care before this.

“You let this woman do these things, and told us there was nothing we could do? Why did you say that?” McGonagall gestures towards Fudge, who looks visibly shaken, maybe just because Harry isn’t ranting and yelling the way he thinks someone who hates the Ministry would. “See how even the Minister is upset about it!”

“Of course, if this was—this was—” Fudge clears his throat. “I suppose that we’ll find the Veritaserum and Blood Quills in her office if we search?”

“I don’t know where she kept all her supplies, sir. They might have been in her quarters instead. But you’ll probably find something there now, since she assigned Harry detention tonight for looking up from the book too much.”

“She what?” Fudge whispers.

“It’s okay, sir,” Harry says, the picture of pathetic bravery. “I’m used to it. Professor Snape assigns me detention a lot for similar reasons.”

Heat tears through Theo like the claws of a dragon. He turns his head this time, and meets Harry’s eyes even as Fudge starts shouting questions and the professors start arguing with him.

Harry smiles back, ducking his head a little, as if Theo’s attention is too much for him.

He took advantage of an opportunity he didn’t even know he would have to get vengeance on a personal enemy in a way no one can even object to.

I want to fuck him so much right now.

With effort, Theo drags his gaze away from Harry and turns it to Professor Snape. The man is snarling with hatred, glaring at Harry, who is utterly indifferent to everything. That’s the problem with spewing so much hatred on a daily basis for things like breathing too hard in class, Theo thinks. The target of your ire isn’t affected when you really are angry.

“Wouldn’t be proper—”

“Now, Cornelius, it’s not as bad as all that—”

“Do wonder what kind of school you’re running here, Albus, I wonder that very much—”

That’s the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard Fudge say, Theo thinks.

At last the adults stop arguing and go back to glaring at each other, or Theo, or Harry, or some combination. Theo leans lazily back in his chair and brings his arm around so that it touches the back of Harry’s. He caresses Harry’s spine with his nails through his boyfriend’s robes.

Harry’s face turns a delightful red color, and McGonagall glares at them suspiciously. But she can’t prove anything, and Theo turns around with a slightly bored smile when Dumbledore speaks directly to him.

“Why did you not tell me about the Veritaserum and the Blood Quills already, Mr. Nott?”

“Well, I made the report to Professor Snape, of course, sir. He’s my Head of House.”

“I did not know about it.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, sir.”

Let Fudge wonder if Dumbledore’s professors regularly lie to and keep things from him. From the red, constipated expression on his face, he’s not wondering right now, but he should be soon.

“You need to not handle things on your own,” is what Dumbledore says next, his voice ringing like iron. “You should have come to us.”

That’s probably meant to make Theo or Harry splutter about how unfair it was that the professors ignored them in the first place, and reveal that they had something to do with Umbridge’s fall. But Theo has played this game with greater masters, because they were closer to him emotionally, than Albus Dumbledore will ever be. Theo just lets his eyes widen and shifts uncomfortably. “You think that we hurt her, sir?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What are you talking about, Albus?” Fudge is swiveling back and forth between them like a Muggle toy Harry showed Theo memories of. Pathetic. “You think that Dolores’s fall was no fall?”

“I think,” Dumbledore says, eyes drilling into Theo while Theo avoids looking into them directly, “that I would be greatly interested to see these boys’ memories.”

“Of course, sir,” Harry says. “So we’re entering a formal investigation at this point and you’ll be requesting memories based on that?”

Dumbledore hesitates. Theo wishes he could hug Harry.

A formal investigation has rules. It might mean that Veritaserum is on the table—although it won’t be the first option, since both Theo and Harry are underage—but it also means that Dumbledore can’t just use evidence like peering into someone’s head to base his accusations on. And the trial will need to take place in the Wizengamot, with its Pensieves that can show many people at once the same memory.

And a formal investigation pries into all the contexts, including why Dumbledore would make the accusation of Theo and Harry doing something to Umbridge in the first place. Which will bring up the Blood Quills and the Veritaserum.

Theo smiles angelically at Dumbledore. After a moment, the man glances away from him.

“Of course we do not need a formal investigation,” he says, and he sounds tired. It might convince someone else. There are a number of stupid people in the room. But Theo just sits and waits, and the Headmaster turns to face Fudge. “You certainly uncovered no evidence of anyone cursing Professor Umbridge in her office, I assume?”

“No. No, of course not!”

“Good…”

Theo doesn’t pay as much attention to the rest of the conversation. He has what he wants. And he’s not so interested in the reactions of Fudge and McGonagall—who will ultimately do whatever Dumbledore tells them—as he is in Snape’s reaction. He turns around in his chair and doesn’t even bother to hide that he’s staring.

For a second, Snape meets his eyes. Theo prepares to dart his gaze away if Snape tries any Legilimency, but the man simply snarls.

Then he whirls on his heel and strides from the office.

Theo nods a little as he leans closer to Harry. He doubts Snape will suffer any worse consequences than a scolding by the Minister, but it doesn’t matter. He’s had that. And if he hates Theo now as much as he’s always hated Harry?

We can get rid of him, too. If we have to.

Chapter Text

“You did have something to do with it.”

It’s Granger who says that, but in the subdued voice instead of the booming outrage that Theo would expect from her. He sighs and turns around to regard her. They’re on the last turn of the staircase that leads down to the Great Hall, and for a miracle, no one else is around. “What are you saying, Granger?”

“You were responsible for Umbridge’s death.”

“The Ministry investigated and cleared me.”

“You still had something to do with it.”

“She fell when Harry went to her office, Granger, and she cracked her skull when she did. She died a few hours later. She could have been nervous about confronting and accusing the Boy-Who-Lived—or gleeful. My wager would be gleeful. It meant she didn’t pay as much attention to her surroundings as she should have, and she fell.”

Granger closes her eyes. “You—you can just stand there and calmly discuss murder.”

“It wasn’t murder.” Self-defense, if anything. I defended Harry, and Harry is part of myself.

“You really don’t feel bad about it.”

“You only say that because you’re not in the forefront of the battle.”

Granger started, and her eyes fluttered open. “W-what?”

“You’re not in the forefront of the battle,” Theo repeats, as calmly as he can. He feels prickles of impatience running up his spine, and, oddly, sorrow. He doesn’t want to argue with Granger; he doesn’t want to alienate Harry’s friends. But neither is he going to spend time dissecting every single little bit of his actions, picking through the embers for the ashes of morality. “You’re not the one who’s being accused of lying by the Ministry, not the one who risked torture or Veritaserum from Umbridge.”

“I’m Muggleborn!”

“Yes, and during the times when someone called you a name based on blood and you had to battle that, you were in the forefront. But now you’re not.”

Granger’s mouth opens and then closes, as if she’s trying to find an effective answer to his argument. Theo stands and waits impatiently for her. He’ll give her another minute, approximately, and then he’s going on to the Great Hall whether or not she’s made her way through her angst.

“I want to help.”

“Right. Then you can ask Harry about that.”

“Why not you?”

“Because I’m not interested in turning everything into a debate about morality.”

Granger flinches, but her voice is stronger when she says, “You can’t just go around murdering people.”

“Someone who was going to torture Harry? Who did torture Weasley? If I can stop them, then of course I will.”

“What if doing that makes you worse than they are?”

“There’s no way it would ever do that.”

“You don’t know that—”

“And I told you that I’m not interested in debates about morality, Granger. How will examining my navel for shadows do anything to stop people like Umbridge?”

Granger doesn’t call him back again as Theo proceeds on his way to the Great Hall. He captures Harry’s eye when he gets there, and sees Harry relax with a little sigh. He probably knew about Granger’s ambush and thought Theo might get angry about it.

Theo won’t do that unless Granger or Weasley does something like they did last year, though. They don’t have time for this, and it causes Harry distress, and Theo has more important battles.

He sits down beside Blaise, who looks at the Gryffindor table, and the doors where Granger is walking in with slow steps, and raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything. “You’re popular.”

“With Gryffindors? Only a few.”

“No, I meant in our House.”

Theo honestly didn’t notice anything that morning when he left, but he glances around now without moving his eyes much as he gathers his breakfast on his plate. It’s true that many people are looking at him over their shoulders, or while pretending to be engaged in a conversation with someone else. Their eyes lock on Theo and drift to him, and Theo shakes his head a little as he begins to eat.

“It’s a bit strange they care that much. I thought they either didn’t like Umbridge but didn’t care enough to intervene, or they enjoyed the way that she put down Muggleborns and made fun of the Gryffindors.”

“You haven’t noticed?”

“Do you mean their attention is hostile instead of considering and I haven’t noticed?”

“No. I mean, that they’re aligning behind you and moving away from Malfoy and some of the other ones like Davis who make loud comments about Gryffindors and Boys-Who-Lived and people who date them.”

Theo can feel how his eyebrows are creeping up his face by the time Blaise finishes. He spends a few minutes eating while he scours his mind for any evidence of that. Blaise waits patiently.

“No,” Theo admits at last, as he finishes up a scone and casts another glance at his Housemates. The ones who were looking at him turn casually away, for the most part, but Daphne and Millicent are watching him, and Pansy’s lack of attention seems pointed. “I haven’t spent a lot of time in the common room in the past few days, admittedly.”

“Do.”

Blaise swallows from his cup and stands, and Theo watches him walk towards the entrance of the Great Hall. When he looks around again, eyes are skittering away from his, and people are whispering, whispering.

Theo can hear his name in the whispers, mingling with Harry’s.

Theo has to smile to himself as he finishes his own meal and stands, catching his boyfriend’s eye again before he turns and walks to class.

As it should be.

*

“I suppose there are worse gifts that your godfather could have sent.”

“Yeah, a lot worse.”

Harry’s voice and hands are reverent as he holds the book on soul magic that Black sent from the library at some old house he owns. Grimmauld Place or something, Theo thinks is the name. All Harry had to do was hint that they needed something related to soul magic, and Black rushed to do his bidding.

Theo thinks that maybe Black’s loyalty to Dumbledore, or at least his belief that Dumbledore knows best when it comes to Harry, is wavering at last.

“And you found something new in the book, I think, or you wouldn’t look so eager to speak to me.”

Harry blinks, abashed for a moment, and then laughs and cuddles closer to Theo. They’re on the Transfigured sofa in the classroom they’ve basically taken over, again, and Harry sighs as he lets his head come to rest against Theo’s shoulder. “Yeah. I found—well, see for yourself.” And he flips to a particular page and holds the book out.

Theo feels a testing sort of magic reach out to him from the pages when he takes the book, but it subsides immediately. More interesting, it seems to have subsided instead of touching Harry, too.

I don’t want him to have to learn as many Dark Arts as I did, but I want him to survive even more.

Theo glances down at the passage.

--soul magic is one of the least studied branches of magic for a reason. There are those who fear its power and what it might mean in the hands of those opposed to the Ministry or the International Confederation of Wizards, but more, there are those who fear the way it changes the world around it. An artifact impregnated with soul magic can corrupt and possess. A place where it was performed can sway those who come there years later to the caster’s views. A mage who studies becomes stronger, and also more and more dedicated to whatever overriding obsession led them to the study of soul magic in the first place.

Theo takes a deep breath. That does explain some things about the Dark Lord, he thinks, and not just his immortality.

But he’s not sure if that’s what Harry means by thinking the passage is especially interesting, or if it’s something else. He turns and looks at Harry, and Harry leans his head on Theo’s shoulder again with a sigh.

“I think it means that we should be able to track the Horcruxes by finding spells that would locate artifacts that could corrupt and possess,” Harry whispers. “Or a spell that locates particularly corrupted places.”

“The second one might only let us find places that the Horcruxes were created.”

“That might still give us a clue.”

Theo nods absently. It’s not impossible that Voldemort also created Horcruxes in places that were important to him, or hid them nearby. It at least gives them more of a clue to search for than they had before, which was nothing.

“And you think it’ll be easier to find a spell that tracks an artifact like this than a spell that tracks soul magic itself?”

“Didn’t that other book we read say that spells like that are illegal? And soul magic is so rare and understudied that some of those spells might actually track something else. But I bet we can find a source of spells that track artifacts that possess people.”

“In other books from Black’s library?”

“Well, maybe, at that. It seems like the kind of thing that his parents might have had on hand. But no.” Harry leans further forwards, until he might fall over if not for the way that Theo is braced against him, and smiles. “The Aurors.”

*

“May I introduce Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, who will be taking over for the rest of the year as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

Shacklebolt rises from his seat at the professors’ table when Dumbledore introduces him. He has a grave face, but a soothing voice, as he says, “I hope that we’ll be able to move past the undeniable and shocking tragedy that Professor Umbridge’s death caused for all of us.”

Tragedy. Theo keeps his eyes earnestly on Shacklebolt, and doesn’t dare look at Harry across the Great Hall.

Harry is smiling at Shacklebolt. Theo can think of more than one reason why, but is content that he’s the only one who knows that.

“And I hope that you will tell me what you were studying in class with Professor Umbridge, so as to cause the minimum amount of disruption to your studies.”

Theo has to work to keep his smile from turning into outright laughter, hearing that. But Shacklebolt doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. He just nods amiably around the Great Hall and then sits down again.

“You’re already thinking of ways to use this,” Blaise murmurs.

Theo smiles at him. He can’t tell his best friend everything, since he’s not about to mention the Horcruxes, but he can say, “Yes. At the very least, I don’t think Shacklebolt will be targeting Harry like Umbridge did, so that’s a good beginning.”

“Yes,” Blaise echoes, and sips from his cup. “Especially since Shacklebolt’s a member of the Order.”

Theo blinks. “He is?”

Blaise nods back. “Yes. My mother has a list of people who started pushing for Dumbledore’s point-of-view in the Ministry and spoke carefully worded statements when Fudge turned against him. Shacklebolt did it so often that she went digging. He wasn’t a member of the Order in the last war, he wasn’t old enough, but he is now.”

Theo raises his eyebrows and nods to Blaise. He nods back and then turns to studying Shacklebolt.

Theo takes a few more bites. He doubts Shacklebolt will be a threat to anything but Dumbledore’s secrets. If anything, he might give Harry some help and attention because they want to bring him back into orbiting around the Headmaster.

Theo won’t allow it. But he’ll take advantage of their desire all he can.

*

“Mr. Nott, may I speak to you after class?”

It’s more than a little surprising, and amusing, to Theo that Shacklebolt is approaching him first, instead of Harry. But maybe that’s also part of the strategy, and they want to show they consider Theo worthy of being brought into the Headmaster’s influence, too. “Of course, sir,” he says, and turns around instead of leaving the room.

Harry glances his way, then relaxes and nods. Theo is glad that they can communicate so well without words. He doubts Shacklebolt is a Legilimens, but it wouldn’t be wise to speak certain words in front of him.

Granger and Weasley glance back, a lot more often than Harry, as they leave the classroom. Theo leans back against the wall and relaxes, his eyes on Shacklebolt and his eyebrows rising a little.

“Do you know why I wanted to speak with you, Mr. Nott?”

“No, sir, but I assume it has something to do with Harry.”

“You do occupy a unique position,” Shacklebolt says, and he has a smile that Theo can see probably serves him well in his Auror work. “Boyfriend of the Boy-Who-Lived, but also a former Death Eater’s son.”

“You do know what I did to my father, I hope.”

“Oh, I do. But as I said, it’s a unique position.”

Theo smiles, a little reluctantly. Shacklebolt is already making more of an impression and a sensible argument than Theo thought would be possible for someone who follows Dumbledore so intently. “All right, sir. So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“What do you think is the best thing we can do to combat You-Know-Who?”

Theo pauses, the question so unexpected that he has to scramble to position his brain so that he can look closely at Shacklebolt. “Sir?”

“You probably have some ideas.”

“You could ask Harry directly if you wanted his ideas.”

“Of course. But why do you think I am asking you?”

Theo considers Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt continues to stand there and radiate calm. Theo finally says, “Because of that unique position you mentioned. You think it might also give me—what, some unique insights into defeating Voldemort?”

Shacklebolt flinches, a minute shiver of his robes. Then he inclines his head and says, “Yes, indeed.”

“One thing that really needs to happen is the sharing of information,” Theo says quietly. This is another test, of sorts. He doesn’t really think that Dumbledore will change the way he interacts with Theo or Harry, but, just like what happened when Theo gave the information on Veritaserum to Snape, it will be interesting to see how that lack of action plays out. “I know that the Headmaster is keeping a number of secrets. Doing that just hurts our efforts. We should be allies, not enemies.”

“I entirely agree, Mr. Nott. I am unsure what information you think Professor Dumbledore is keeping to himself, however.”

“Well, for one thing, he knows a lot more about defeating Voldemort than he’s shared.”

“You understand why it would be a bad thing for that knowledge to spread widely?”

“Of course. But why doesn’t he share it with Harry and the members of the Order of the Phoenix? Do you think he really believes they would betray us?”

Shacklebolt flinches a little, too, at the mention of the Order. Ha.

“I am not sure,” Shacklebolt says slowly. “Although I would be reluctant to question Professor Dumbledore too closely.”

“Because you know that he won’t tell you anything, either?”

Shacklebolt’s eyes narrow. “Mr. Nott, please remember that you should respect the Headmaster as one of your professors, if nothing else.”

“He doesn’t actually teach me,” Theo disagrees with a large smile. “And I find it hard to respect him when I passed along the information about Veritaserum to one professor who had every chance to tell the Headmaster, and did nothing.”

“You cannot know that that professor ever passed on the information.”

“Then why does the Headmaster have such lax control over his professors? Why do they respect the Ministry more than they do him?”

Shacklebolt opens his mouth, and closes it without saying anything.

Theo nods to him, not letting his real smile out, and slips out of the classroom. He finds Harry awaiting him, and touches Harry’s shoulder as he walks past. “I’m fine. Although Shacklebolt did talk to me about how I should respect the Headmaster more and trust that he’s doing the best job possible.”

Harry firms his mouth, but doesn’t say anything until they’re far enough down the corridor that they’re likely beyond the reach of any eavesdropping spells that Shacklebolt might be using. “You think that’s because he’s part of the Order?”

“Yes, and maybe he’s been tasked with getting you back in the fold.”

“And you?”

“He emphasized my unique position being the Boy-Who-Lived’s boyfriend and also a Death Eater’s son. As if he wanted me to be grateful to him for noticing, or something similar.”

“It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be easy to get him to teach us the spells that we were thinking of getting, after all.”

Theo just dips his head in a shallow nod. Honestly, he doesn’t think that appealing to Shacklebolt is their only pathway into learning Auror spells, although it would be a convenient one.

“You seem to have forgotten there’s another Auror who likes us.”

“Who?”

“Nymphadora Tonks.”

Harry blinks, and then begins to grin. Theo basks in the light of it, and leans forwards to accept the kiss Harry is pleased to give him.

“You’re a genius,” Harry breathes against his mouth.

“I do try.”

Chapter Text

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Seventeen—New Allies

“Not that I’m not happy to help you,” Tonks says, and turns her hair a dark, deep blue. “But why did you decide that we had to meet in the middle of the Forbidden Forest to talk about this?”

Theo hides a smile. He doubts that Tonks would have wanted to meet them if not for that mysterious invitation. Her eyes are darting back and forth between them, and she’s rocking slightly in place on her feet.

“Thanks for coming,” Harry says. “And the reason that we have to do this is because the Minister thinks we had something to do with Umbridge’s death.”

“Well, and didn’t you?” Tonks asks instantly.

If he weren’t seeing it for himself, Theo never would have believed that Harry could lie so smoothly. He laughs a little. “Why do they suspect us for everything, Tonks? Theo and I both had the ability to hurt Umbridge before this, if we wanted. She had Theo in for a detention and tried to serve him Veritaserum already—”

“What!” yelps Tonks, her hair turning a pink that makes Theo blink, even in the low Lumos Charms of their wands.

Harry nods. “And Theo did report that, but nothing happened, and we didn’t try to take revenge. And you know that we offered to have our memories revised before the full Wizengamot, but that didn’t go anywhere.” He shrugs. “I think the Ministry is looking for an enemy since they don’t want to admit Voldemort is back, and I’m a convenient one.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“Of course. They know that my loyalty to Harry is unwavering, and that’s threatening when they want to blame him for things.”

Tonks just keeps studying Theo skeptically, but Theo knows that he’s good at lying. He smiles back at her, and smiles, and Tonks finally rolls her eyes and mutters, “Fine, be that way.”

“Does that mean you’ll help us?” Harry asks, bouncing a little on his toes. He’s giving Tonks a winsome smile, and from the reluctant way Tonks smiles back, she’s charmed despite herself.

“Yeah, of course. Although there’s not much call for the kinds of spells that detect soul magic or artifacts having to do with them. I only know them because Moody was my mentor and the man is bloody thorough.”

Theo fights to keep his smirk from widening across his face. He didn’t know for sure that something like that would happen, but he appreciates it, and from the way Tonks bends forwards a little, she’s not lying about her willingness to help them.

“We need it to fight Voldemort.”

Tonks flinched at the name at first, but she’s stronger than she was now. Or she’s just decided that she has to ignore it. “You think he’s tampered with soul magic?” she asks, sounding aghast, and then shakes her head before Theo can laugh at her. “Of course he has, why am I not surprised? Fine. I can teach you these spells.”

“And we don’t need to promise you any more than that?” Harry asks, a moment before Theo would have asked a similar question himself. “We don’t have that much reason to trust you, or you don’t have that much reason to trust us.”

Tonks’s smile lingers on the edge of sadness without crossing the border. Theo is starting to think that she just doesn’t get sorrowful most of the time. “I’ve had a few conversations with my cousin. I know what you did for him, letting him stay in your house, Mr. Nott. And I know that you tried to give him some of his life back, Harry.”

Harry blinks and takes a quick breath. “I—I’m surprised that he spoke that well of me and Theo.”

“Sirius loves you,” Tonks says, her eyes wide and earnest. Theo finds himself shifting his balance, wondering if this is what it feels like to have needles driven into your wrists. “He doesn’t know how to express it, and he’s done some stupid things, but he really does love you. I could see it.”

“And he’s your cousin, so you feel that you owe us something for treating him well,” Theo says, eager to move them past the awkward moment.

Tonks gives him an amused look, probably because she knows exactly what Theo is doing, but then she just nods. “Yes. And these spells are powerful, but not that complicated. I think you’ll master the incantations and wand movements easily.”

“Just not the effects?” Harry asks.

“Exactly.”

*

In the end, Tonks is right. Theo can speak the incantation that will let him tell if an artifact is imbued with soul magic by the end of an hour and master the wand movement that goes with it. He’s also mastered the spell that will let him tell if an artifact with soul magic was in the area within the last few years.

Well. Sort of mastered.

Tonks wasn’t kidding about the power of the spells.

The first time Theo casts the spell that will, hopefully, let them identify a Horcrux, it makes him stagger. Harry turns towards him with his eyes wide and concerned, but Theo shakes his head and stands up. His breathing has quickened, but he’s all right.

Feeling like the middle of his chest has been mashed into mincemeat, but all right.

Tonks and Harry both eye him when he’s done. Theo gives them a faint smile and just waits for them to get past the moment and stop worrying about him. Tonks turns her hair lime-green and faces Harry with an encouraging smile. “Ready, Harry?”

Harry bites his lip and nods. He keeps his eyes on Theo as he casts. Theo wants to tell him to watch the results of the spell instead, that he’s all right and he doesn’t want Harry to fall over, but honestly, this is far too flattering.

The spell flattens into a circle of yellow light in the air in front of Harry, and Theo throws his hand up in front of his eyes. This is so bright that his head rings and his vision swims.

“Theo, are you okay? Theo!”

Once again, Theo has to reassure his boyfriend. At least Harry is solid and warm beside him, peering anxiously into Theo’s eyes as he supports him with one hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine, Harry. I promise.”

“Why would the spell have affected him?” Harry turns back to Tonks, Theo can feel that much, even if he’s still blinking the afterimages out of his eyes. “There’s no way that he’s still suffering from his first attempt to cast the spell, is there?”

Tonks is silent. Theo blinks the rest of the afterimages away and faces her, wondering if there’s something about the spells that she neglected to tell them.

Instead, Tonks is silent, her eyes darting back and forth between Theo and Harry. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?” she asks slowly. “Such as that you have an artifact with soul magic here already, or that you were recently close to one?”

Oh, shit. The Horcrux in Harry’s scar. Theo never even considered it when they started learning these spells, because he didn’t think that Tonks would know all the nuances or that they would be able to cast spells powerful enough the first time to reveal the presence of a shard of soul or—

There are lots of things that he didn’t think of.

It doesn’t matter. Theo isn’t too tired, would never be too tired, to raise his wand and create a fence of shimmering purple light around the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where they’ve been practicing. This is a spell that he hasn’t shared even with Harry, although Harry would only have to ask for it. This is a spell his father invented, and no one can break through it who doesn’t have Nott blood or the caster’s permission.

It also makes him stagger harder than ever, winded, and have to lean on Harry’s shoulder. Harry supports him—not that there was ever any danger of him not doing it—while biting his lip.

“Harry?”

Tonks is turning to face Harry now, and it’s easy to forget she’s a trained Auror until she moves like this, all smooth and powerful, the clumsiness that Theo is half-convinced is a feint gone as if it’s never been. Harry takes a deep breath and says, “It’s a secret, Tonks. We can’t let you leave until you swear an oath not to spill it.”

Tonks pauses, and her nose wrinkles. Then she says, “An oath? Is that all?”

“A strong, important oath. One that you couldn’t break. This is a secret that Dumbledore entrusted to us. He doesn’t want us spreading it around, but he also wouldn’t—I think that he would want you to do certain things if he knew that you knew it.”

Tonks pauses again. Theo has his wand ready. She can’t get out through the ward anyway, but if she tries to flee, he will hit her with curses that will daze and dazzle her until he can use the Imperius on her.

With Harry’s safety at stake, Theo knows he will muster the will to use the Unforgivable easily.

“What is this all about?”

“We can’t tell you that until you agree to give the oath.”

Theo is so proud of Harry that he can’t breathe. Harry has his head proudly lifted, his wand dangling at his side as if he wouldn’t really use it on Tonks. And he doesn’t need to. He commands Tonks’s attention with his voice alone.

Theo despises both the circumstances and the people who have conspired to force Harry into the role of the Boy-Who-Lived, but there’s no arguing that Harry wears that mantle better than anyone else could have.

“I want to know,” Tonks mutters.

“You can, if you swear the oath.”

Tonks glances back and forth between them as if she thinks that Theo will contradict what Harry is saying. But Theo is happy to lean on Harry’s shoulder and smile at Tonks and maintain both eye contact and unwavering confidence. He won’t hesitate to do whatever Harry tells him to.

Maybe Tonks knows that, or guesses it, or doesn’t have a problem with it. She nods, already drawing her wand. “You swear that this vow is only going to be known to the three of us?”

“Yes,” Theo says instantly. There wouldn’t be any profit for any of them in sharing around that Tonks swore it, not right now. And if there is later… “You would need to give us permission to even tell someone that you swore it.”

Tonks blinks and licks her lips and nods. “Then I’ll swear,” she says, and follows Theo’s directions. There’s a variant of a wand-oath that will make the person who swears it suffer crippling pain if they even think about breaking it. Either Tonks recognizes the oath she’s swearing and has no problem with it, or she doesn’t and should have done further research before she swore it. Either way, not Theo’s problem.

Harry does shoot Theo a sharp glance, probably over some of the wording that Theo is having Tonks use, but he doesn’t contradict him in this, either.

I have the perfect boyfriend, Theo is thinking as he slips an arm around Harry’s waist and says, “Harry hosts a shard of Voldemort’s soul, a condition called being a living Horcrux.”

Tonks chokes.

Theo has his wand up and raised, ready to strike her with a curse if she runs for the ward boundary, but instead, Tonks straightens after a moment of swaying in place. She stares at Theo and blurts, “You’re crazy.”

“No,” Theo says. “It’s true.”

“You say that, and you’re just standing there and not trying to find a way to cure him?” Tonks’s hair cycles so fast through colors that it leaves burning afterimages on Theo’s vision like Harrys spell did. “There has to be some way—to move the Horcrux out of him, to cure him—you shouldn’t be having me teach you spells like this, you should be learning the deepest of Healing—”

“The reason that we need to know these spells is because Voldemort made more than just this Horcrux,” Harry interrupts her. “He made a diary that possessed the people who wrote in it, and which I destroyed in my second year. And he made a certain number more. We’re trying to make sure that we can find them and destroy them.”

Tonks blinks her eyes shut and lets her head sag slowly forwards until her forehead is resting in her hand. “Oh, Merlin,” she whispers. “This is madness.”

“We have to do it,” Theo says. He’s more relaxed now, ready to strike at Tonks if she runs, but less certain that she will. He’ll attack without mercy if she does, though. “Dumbledore knows what’s happening with Harry, and he would—do something much less than pleasant to Harry if he thought he could get away with it.”

“But why? Dumbledore has to know what destroying the Boy-Who-Lived would do to the hope and mood of our world.”

“What do you think would happen to the hope and mood of our world if they knew what I was?” Harry asks. Tonks flinches, and Theo tightens his arm around Harry’s waist, in case he’s grieving over being a Horcrux. But Harry just presses a hand flat to Theo’s arm without looking away from Tonks. “People have already turned on me in the past for supposedly being a cheater and the Heir of Slytherin. Dumbledore would be able to convince them that I should be destroyed to destroy Voldemort. If he had to. I don’t think he would be happy about it, but he would do it.”

Tonks opens and closes her mouth. Then she whispers, “Good point.”

“You see now why we had you swear the oath. Dumbledore might try to kill Harry now if he knew that we were talking to other people about this and trying to find some solution to the Horcrux problem that doesn’t involve Harry dying.

“Of course he’s not going to die.”

“But that’s the kind of thing Dumbledore embraces, and he was trying to make Harry embrace. He was doing his best, when he told us about it, to make it seem like there’s no cure and Harry should give up loving me so that he would be more willing to die. And I should be thinking of Harry as an object, a thing, instead of someone I would be willing to fight and die for.”

“I never knew that—that Headmaster Dumbledore is so ruthless.”

“I don’t think he likes being that way,” Harry says, in the kind of weary voice that Theo keeps quiet about, because he knows it will convince Tonks more than anything Theo could do himself. “I don’t think he would rejoice if he had to cast a Choking Curse on me or whatever. But he’s dedicated to the defeat of Voldemort before anything else.”

Whatever objections Tonks might have raised before, this appears to calm them. She bites her lip and says nothing, looking back and forth between Harry and Theo.

When she speaks again, it’s to whisper. “There are no Dark curses without a counter. It’s one of the things that we learn first in the Aurors. Even if someone invents a new curse—it’s always possible to invent a counter.”

Theo thinks about some of the things his father taught him, that his father invented, and has to work to hold back a sneer. But Harry is looking intently at Tonks. “So you think there’s a way to counter a Horcrux? Without destroying it?”

“There has to be. You might be the first living Horcrux in history, but do you think that no one who made one of those things ever regretted it? Never decided that they did want to move the shard out of the artifact they put it in and into something else?”

Theo can feel Harry flinching at the words “things” and “artifact,” and opens his mouth to shout at Tonks. But Harry steps on Theo’s foot and speaks while he’s wincing. “So you think you can find a spell to help me move the Horcrux shard?”

“I think I might even know one, I just can’t remember it right now.” Tonks’s hair cycles into a blinding white that makes Theo glance away with a wince. He doesn’t know what that says about her mood, but what he hears in her voice is unshakable determination. “I’ll find it. Or invent it. Or get someone to teach it to me.”

“Why would—I mean, we’re not close, Tonks. Why would you do all this for me?”

“Because part of you is the hero in the stories Mum told me as a kid.” Tonks speaks with great conviction, even as her hair turns lime-green. “So many people would be running away from dealing with a thing like this, or just comatose with fear and anger, but you’re standing up to it, Harry. My mum raised me to honor courage in other people. I need to honor your courage.”

Theo has to close his eyes. He wanted to laugh or lash out when Tonks mentioned the children’s stories about Harry, but it seems that sometimes, they inspire someone to just believe in Harry.

Theo was starting to think that no one except himself was really capable of that.

“Thank you, Tonks,” Harry whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. “I—I’d really appreciate it if you looked around for spells that would let us do that. But we also need to learn the spells to find Horcruxes, because he’s got more of these out there.”

Tonks seems as if she’d like to ask other questions for a second, but then she just nods with a grim expression and raises her wand. “Then let’s start working.”

Theo does manage to cast the spell to find Horcruxes by the end of the training session without collapsing, and Harry does the same thing. They lean on each other as they walk back to the school, hiding their light panting.

At least most people will assume they were doing something else, if they see them together looking ruffled.

“I’m glad that we have other allies,” Harry says, keeping his voice low as they enter the school’s doors.

Theo nods, and thinks that it’s also a good thing they have the oath to ensure they can trust Tonks. He would hate to kill someone who obviously believes Harry and believes in Harry because they were careless enough to leave a loophole in their contract.

Chapter Text

“I’m glad that we don’t have to stay at the school for the Yule Ball this year.”

“Are you saying that the Yule Ball wasn’t fun, Harry Potter?”

Harry leans his head back against Theo’s shoulder with a quiet laugh. They’re in their private classroom again, watching as Theo’s illusions spread spinning blue and green shadows around the floors and the walls, making it look like they’re underwater. “It was fun to shock and puzzle everyone. And it was fun dancing with you. But we can do that on our own.”

Theo kisses Harry’s neck. “We certainly can. Would you like to do it now?”

“Now?”

“Why not?” Truth be told, Theo thinks they deserve at least fifteen minutes of enjoyment after the sustained hours of attention they’ve given the books about soul magic that Sirius Black did indeed send Harry and the dusty old newspapers about Voldemort’s attacks during the first war. They’ve been scouring those to see if they can identify locations important to him. Theo tugs on Harry’s arms now.

Harry stands with a smile, and they move towards the center of the room. Theo twists his wand, and quiet music fills the air.

“You never did tell me why you got good enough at music charms to cast them silently.”

“It was one of the few ways of enjoying myself that Father couldn’t take away from me when I was a child. He could take my books and lock me in my bedroom without toys, but he couldn’t take away the music that my accidental magic conjured. I was good enough at it to learn to control it within a year or so.”

“That bastard. He died too quickly.”

Theo has to kiss Harry for that statement, and for a moment, they stand snogging steadily enough that Theo thinks they’re going to undertake a different form of dancing. But he moves back with a little shake of his head and takes Harry in his arms, and Harry smiles into his face as they spin through the motions of a slow waltz.

Theo is deeply content at the moment, in a way that he never imagined he could be when he was locked in his room and listening to the strains of music that he conjured as much from imagination as memory.

It’s like a perfect moment, and of course it splinters with a sharp knock on the classroom door. Theo sighs and steps back. The music dies, and Harry turns to face the door with his wand out.

But it’s Blaise, not an enemy, who thrusts his head inside, his eyes darting for a moment from Harry to Theo before they rest on Theo. “I think you need to come to the common room, Theo.”

“Why’s that?”

“Malfoy is mounting an extremely foolish challenge.”

Theo lets his eyes fall shut as he takes a deep, silent breath. Then he reaches out and runs his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I’ll see you later, I hope,” he murmurs.

“Of course.” Harry smiles at him and turns back to the books and newspapers. Theo raises a ward around him that will do its very best to burn someone’s arm off if someone who isn’t Theo or friendly to Harry crosses the barrier. Harry twitches a smile at Theo that says he recognizes and appreciates the spell, and sprawls on the couch to read.

“That ward could kill someone,” Blaise says quietly as they shut the classroom door behind themselves.

“Yes, it could,” Theo says, and smiles at his best friend.

Blaise chuckles and winks at Theo. “I can’t wait to see what you do to Malfoy.”

Me, either, Theo thinks, and lengthens his stride.

*

The door slides open in front of them, and Theo walks into the common room with Blaise at his side.

People turn eager eyes to him immediately. It seems that dear Draco has been standing in the middle of the common room for a while, bragging, and some probably hope that Theo will save them from the sound of Draco’s voice as much as anything else. Theo flashes them a small smile, and they decide to look elsewhere.

They might regret that wish, in the end.

“Theo! I was waiting for you!”

Oh, Draco is in fine form. His eyes shine, and he leans forwards as if he’s going to jump over one of the couches in front of him and strike Theo in the throat with his wand. Theo gives him a faint smile, and Draco does think better of that, but he still wears a nasty smile. Some of Theo’s anticipation grows.

“I was telling everyone who would listen that you’re not responsible for your father dying, because you would never have killed him to satisfy the whims of a half-blood, but they’ve been reminding me of what you did to Tracey the other day. It seems that you’ve always been more bloodthirsty and less subtle than I thought. And killing your kin in the bargain?”

Draco, because he’s an idiot, obviously thinks that blood kin is always more valuable than a chosen lover. But he’s not alone in thinking that, from the way that people lean forwards on their chairs and couches, purebloods all, and seem to hold their breaths.

Theo inclines his head. Draco’s smile widens across his face, and his hand twitches towards his wand.

The way that Draco’s set up this challenge, Theo will lose if he wields the kind of violent magic that made Davis run away crying. But that’s all right. Theo has other weapons at his disposal, and anyway, Draco didn’t listen last year when Theo used a spell to break his fingers. This other means will make sure the lesson is more lasting.

Theo walks straight towards Draco, smiling. He doesn’t draw his wand, and he keeps his stride relaxed and easy, his eyes fastened on Draco’s face.

Draco stares at him. Then he whips his wand up, pointing at Theo. “Don’t come any closer, Nott, or I’ll begin the duel!”

“I had no idea you wanted to duel me, Draco,” Theo says, coming to a halt and giving him a chiding look. “You do? I think that’s a little crude, personally. And repetitive. I already showed what I could do in a duel when I beat Davis.”

“I don’t want to duel you! Stay back!”

“But I don’t see a need to stay back when I’m trying to warn you,” Theo says, with a slight, exasperated smile. He steps towards Draco. “Do you think that I would come this close if I intended to duel you? That I wouldn’t draw my wand? I just wanted to have a private conversation with you so that I can clear up some misunderstandings. Very private. We can go to the dorm room.”

“No!” Draco’s voice emerges as a high squeal.

Theo smiles. “Draco, everyone present can hear me saying what I intend to do. You really think that I would hurt you if we left their sight? When if you came back in pain, all anyone would have to do is go straight to Professor Snape?”

“That’s not—you’re going to do something else!”

“Something other than hurt you?”

“Yes!”

“Well, you’re right,” Theo says, and spreads his hands. “I just want to talk to you, Draco. Find out what you were saying about Harry and me.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

More than one person laughs. Theo smiles and cocks his head. “I think you were. I think that you wouldn’t have looked so triumphant or expected me to challenge you to a duel if you were only talking about homework with Pansy or the like. So we can go to the dormitory, and we can talk about it, and we can clear up any lingering misunderstandings, can’t we?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you, Nott!”

“I promise it’ll be innocent, Malfoy. I have no desire to cheat on Harry.”

“You—stop talking like that!”

“Like what?”

By now, more than a few people are laughing. Theo keeps his hands spread and his smile small and friendly.

Draco, though? Draco can see the truth in his eyes. And he knows that going up into the dormitory with Theo would mean pain, although not the kind of thing that Theo did to Davis. That didn’t deter Draco, so Theo would have to do something else.

And the promise of it is enough to melt Draco’s spine. He moves backwards with a few stumbling steps, looks around for salvation, and then turns and runs towards the dormitory. All that other people will see is that Theo made him back down without any spells.

Theo turns and meets the eyes of the people who deign to look at him. Most of them glance away again at once.

I don’t know why. I’m being so friendly, after all.

He saunters over to sit beside Blaise, who is grinning at him as he puts up a Privacy Charm. “Nicely done,” he says.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Theo murmurs tranquilly. He can feel heavy gazes on him, and knows he has to wait for a little while before he goes back to the classroom where he left Harry. The thought irritates him, but he doesn’t let it show.

“Of course you don’t.”
*

An hour later, Theo is thinking that surely he’s spent long enough in the Slytherin common room to show people that they shouldn’t fuck with him when an alarm rips along his nerves as if someone is shredding them with a bone claw.

Theo is on his feet in seconds, his wand drawn. People pause in their conversations and stare at him. Blaise is starting to his feet in the same manner, although he doesn’t draw his wand and just bends a frown on Theo.

“What is it?”

It takes Theo far too long to figure out, but then he hisses, “Harry.” That alarm he felt was the breaking of the ward that he wound to protect Harry.

He takes off running out of the common room, through the corridors, not caring if people get upset or think that he’s weak for retreating. He has no problem with coming back and destroying them if he has to, depending on what’s happened to Harry.

It would be easy, if they had something to do with what’s happened.

He and Blaise—he almost missed Blaise’s footsteps behind him—come around the corner into the corridor that houses the classroom. Theo halts. There’s a body lying on the floor, and a glance is enough to convince him that it’s not Harry.

“Do you want me to…?”

“Examine him, if you would? Yes.”

Blaise nods and kneels down next to the body. Theo strides past and through the choking, shifting coils of the ward. They’re alive with his magic, longing to strike at someone like disturbed snakes, but luckily, they still recognize their creator. They still with little hisses, and Theo pets at them absently as he steps past into the classroom.

A hex comes flying at him.

Theo ducks and rolls, absurdly proud of Harry’s reflexes. Of course, he does come back to his feet to see Harry looking horrified and guilty, and that snatches away some of his pride.

“It’s all right, Harry,” he says as soothingly as he can, coming over to put an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “The ward defended you, the way it should. And I came as soon as I felt it go off. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here.” It’s clear as moonlight to him now that Draco’s ploy was coordinated with someone else to lure Theo back to the common room and get him away from Harry.

Harry tries several times to swallow. Then he says, “I—are you all right, Theo? They didn’t hurt you?”

“I didn’t even duel. What did you feel in here?”

“It felt as though someone was testing the ward a few minutes after you left, but it faded, and I was reading. I—got involved in what I was reading, and didn’t check the ward as closely as I should have. I’m sorry.”

Theo shakes his head and nuzzles his face down into Harry’s shoulder. Harry makes a soft noise and leans his face against Theo’s cheek. “No, it’s all right,” Theo murmurs. “That’s exactly what the ward should have done, make you able to study without fear. And then what happened after that?”

“I heard someone cursing—I mean, not spells, just swearing.” Theo nods. “I drew my wand and started towards the door, but I didn’t want to get too close to it, just in case someone managed to cast through the ward. Then I heard screaming.”

Theo smiles.

“Did the ward kill someone?”

“You don’t sound too distressed if it did,” Theo notes idly, his fingers straying through the curly hair at Harry’s nape.

“I’m so sick of being the bloody victim,” Harry says, his voice low and guttural and insanely attractive. “The Heir of Slytherin, the supposed cheater who put my name in the Goblet of Fire when it was just someone trying to kill me as usual, the victim of Umbridge’s Veritaserum and detentions. Or I would have been, without you. Even the supposed victim of Sirius Black. If someone was trying to hurt me and paid the price, for once, I don’t bloody care.”

Theo smiles and kisses Harry’s temple. He would like to get into more interesting activities, but there’s still the matter of Blaise and the probable body outside the classroom door, so he pulls back reluctantly. “Come on, we might as well see who managed to get themselves nearly killed.”

“Or all the way killed.”

Theo wraps an arm around Harry’s shoulder in silent promise of more, later, and guides him towards the door.

*

“Daedalus Rosier.”

Theo raises his eyebrows. Of course he knows that the boy has, or had, some relatives who were Death Eaters, but Theo’s never interacted with him, and never heard him say anything about Harry, either. Rosier always gave Theo the impression of someone who considered himself above politics of any kind, either Slytherin or Death Eater, and just interested in making as much money as possible. He runs some kind of gambling ring among the other seventh-year Slytherin students.

“Someone who knows a lot of curses?” Harry asks, leaning over Theo’s shoulder to study the body where it lies on the floor. Well, “body” isn’t accurate, really. Rosier is still breathing. But intense burns seam his face and his hands, and he’ll certainly never be normal-looking again.

If he survives. Theo thinks he might not.

“Maybe,” Blaise says. “He’s never demonstrated them that I’m aware of.” He leans back and raises an eyebrow at Theo.

Theo has to nod. “I don’t think he’s even taking Defense. Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, maybe a few others. But not Defense.”

Harry grunts and uses his wand in a short, silent jab to flip Rosier over. There are scorch marks all along the sides of his robes, but not as many as Theo expected. He uses his own wand to probe at Rosier’s clothes, and yeah, there are dragonhide linings on it.

Rosier came prepared for a burning ward. Someone told him.

Or he’s been spying, and Theo never noticed him.

He’s not sure which possibility concerns him more.

When Theo tells Harry and Blaise about the possibility that Rosier knew exactly what he would be facing and only didn’t succeed because he didn’t plan for an intense enough ward, Blaise closes his eyes and swears. Harry is the one who asks, “Did he know Legilimency?”

“Why would you ask?”

“Because I’m not good enough at Occlumency to keep someone out of my head all the time yet. And Ron and Hermione could have come here, sensed the ward, and gone away again. And he could have taken the truth from their minds.”

Theo nods slowly. Then he raises his wand and casts the spell that will cause the ward to show who passed by it in the time since Theo left.

Shadowy impressions appear and flare. Theo concentrates harder, pouring his power into the spell. He hasn’t actually managed to cast this before, since the wards are themselves a new spell and ever modification makes them harder to control.

The shadows calm down and form into faces, bodies, movement, although not voices. Weasley and Granger appear and retreat. Harry himself shows briefly, looking out from inside the classroom. And then Rosier.

“If he got it, it must have been from Weasley and Granger,” Theo murmurs, lowering his wand. “They left long enough before he arrived that he could have used Legilimency on them.” He sighs and turns to look at Harry. “What do you think we should do with Rosier?”

“Is he alive?”

“He might wish he wasn’t,” Blaise says, admiration in his voice. Theo preens a little, knowing that admiration is all for his ability to create deadly spells. “He’ll be disfigured. But yes, he’s breathing, and there’s no reason to assume that he’ll stop soon.”

Harry sighs and turns to Theo. “I suppose that we can’t demand Ron and Hermione learn Occlumency.”

“We’d have to tell them why. Do you want to?”

“No. And I think Hermione might be good at it, but Ron wouldn’t, and they would want to know why, and—I want to stay friends with them.”

Theo squeezes Harry’s hand in comfort for a moment. It’s disheartening, it must be, to know that Harry thinks his friends wouldn’t stay his friends if they knew everything he was doing. But it’s disheartening enough that Theo doesn’t have to keep harping on it. “All right. Then we need to punish Rosier in such a way that everyone will take warning from it and not try to harm you again, or lure me away to do you harm.”

“Would the burns be enough?”

“Not when Rosier probably won’t tell anyone how he got them,” Blaise says, sitting back on his heels. “And not when he’ll probably be hidden away in the hospital wing to have them treated. He might even be sent to St. Mungo’s.”

Harry nods. His face is distant, but firming even as Theo watches. “All right. Can you take him back to your common room and make it clear what will happen to anyone who tries to get in the way of your protecting me? And get the truth from his mind about what happened?”

Theo grins, and sees the way that Harry’s pupils dilate in reaction to that grin. It makes it even easier to purr, “It would be my pleasure.”

Chapter Text

Theo pauses with Rosier’s body floating in front of him. No, Rosier floating in front of him. He does have to remember that Rosier isn’t actually dead, although not for a lack of trying on his part.

“Ready?” Blaise asks softly.

Theo nods, and then he flings open the door of the common room and strides in with noise and fanfare, not caring about the way that the door hits the wall behind it.

Conversation dies as people look at Theo, and Blaise, and the floating Rosier. Theo is glad that Draco isn’t in sight at the moment. Theo might feel like killing him if he was, and honestly, it would take Theo more effort than he likes to kill someone he’s known since childhood.

“Nott? What are you doing?”

It’s Iphigenia Rosier, a sixth-year and Daedalus’s cousin, who speaks. Theo turns and smiles at her, and watches the way that her hand inches towards her wand. She might not want to admit it when Theo is a year younger than she is and hasn’t even been through his OWLs yet, but she’s definitely afraid of him.

“Was it you?” Theo asks her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you the one who sent your cousin to assault my boyfriend? Who conspired to lure me back to the common room so that I wouldn’t be right there when Daedalus came knocking on the ward?”

Iphigenia shakes her head, her dark hair flying around her face. “No, it was never—I never would have known something like that, Nott—”

Theo ends the Levitation spell and lets Rosier’s body thump to the floor, stripping it of his hood at the same time. More than one person gasps, and one screams, at the sight of the burns on Rosier’s face and hands. The scream comes from Davis. At least Theo is pretty sure she doesn’t have anything to do with this.

Theo turns. People flinch before his gaze, but don’t scatter.

“Who was it?” Theo asks. “Who came up with this plan? And who’s going to hold still and let me look into their eyes and learn all about it?” He smiles and holds up his wand, juggling it lightly. “And who’s going to be foolish enough to run?”

Someone near the back of the room breaks, pelting towards the girls’ dormitories. Theo raises a shimmering barrier of will without saying a word. The girl slams into it and sits down hard on the stairs, dazed.

“I could do it,” Theo says softly. “I could kill all of you except the ones of you who are my allies, and paint the walls with your blood. I would enjoy doing it. I’d enjoy laying your bodies at Harry’s feet. Are you going to make me?”

“Fine.”

It’s Iphigenia who stands and walks towards him with hard, haunted eyes, and an expression that Theo thinks might break into a thousand glittering shards of glass at any moment. He waits with his hand on his wand. Iphigenia comes to a halt in front of him and gives him a look of hatred that Theo meets calmly.

She turns away from him, taking a deep breath and shaking her head as if she could shake loose the thoughts of how stupid she is. “We—we didn’t know that you would react this way. Or have wards up that were capable of taking down Daedalus. But the Dark Lord promised to reward us greatly if we could bring Harry Potter to him.”

“Of course he did,” Theo says softly. At the name of the Dark Lord, all the other Slytherins are still. “And you didn’t think once about the danger nearest at hand, did you?”

“You’re only one fifth-year student, Nott. Not a Dark Lord like him.”

“But I’m the one who’s here now, and who has the most motivation to torture you.”

Iphigenia stares at him with wide eyes for a moment, and then gives a jagged laugh that breaks in the middle. “You think your oh-so-righteous boyfriend would like it if you tortured people?”

“He would be grateful to me for protecting him.”

Iphigenia actually moves back a step. Theo keeps watching her, letting his wide, wild smile spread across his face. It’s a smile that Father said more than once made Theo look deranged, and he lectured Theo for wearing it. He wanted a pliable Heir who would always smile or speak on his father’s command.

And look what happened to him.

“You—you wouldn’t really torture us. Kill us.”

“Yes,” Theo says softly. “I would.”

He lets the words fall into the silence, and looks around the common room again. No one else is coming forwards. It’s possible that Iphigenia and Daedalus really did plan this by themselves, he thinks. Not that he’s planning to trust them without confirmation from Legilimency—and really, he will never trust them again, or anyone else standing or sitting here except Blaise. This is the way things are.

He turns back to Iphigenia. “Show me what’s in your mind,” he says, “and I’ll spare your life.”

“I want you to promise not to torture me, either.”

Her voices wavers back and forth, and Theo can see others noticing, people who are watching more to see the Rosiers fall than Theo succeed. That doesn’t matter to Theo. They can watch for that. He lets his smile widen. “What power do you think you have, to demand that?”

“You—you shouldn’t.”

“Who says?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Theo decides, abruptly, that he’s done letting people who tried to kill his boyfriend have a say. He raises his and rips into Iphigenia Rosier’s mind without even casting the Legilimens spell aloud.

She gags and tries to tear her gaze free from his, but Theo is pressing inwards, inwards, and he finds the memory of her and Daedalus sitting on a couch somewhere that’s probably deep in the dungeons. It certainly isn’t the common room. They’re whispering about what Daedalus learned from Granger’s unguarded mind, how Harry almost always has Theo with him, but Granger has never seen Harry cast a Dark Arts spell.

Theo laughs as he rips himself free. He’ll still want to read Daedalus’s mind before they turn him over to Pomfrey, but he has what he needs. “Your source of information was biased and untrue, by the way.”

He doesn’t think that Iphigenia really cares what he’s saying, given that she’s on the floor, whimpering, with her arms wrapped around her head. Theo turns, and meets the gazes of half the Slytherins.

More than half lean away from him.

“Anyone else who attempts to go after Harry Potter will learn what my father taught me,” Theo says, and that’s all the threat he really has to make. He uses a Levitation Charm to heave Daedalus into the air again. “Let’s take him to Pomfrey, Blaise.”

“We probably should, before he does something else that could get him killed.”

Theo laughs, and people draw back from him. Theo meets their eyes again as he Levitates Rosier out the door of the common room, but they crouch and murmur and don’t meet his.

It’s victory. Victory that Theo knows how to manipulate and use.

*

He does get a moment alone with Rosier while Pomfrey is exclaiming and bustling around and fetching healing potions and the like, and he leans over and breathes, “She won’t learn any differently from me than that it was a ward spell you were practicing that backfired on you. Will she learn any differently from you?”

Rosier shakes his head wildly, hunching his shoulders as if he feels the impact of an invisible lash from one of the more interesting spells that Father taught Theo. Theo steps back from him and smiles.

“I hope you get well soon, Rosier,” he says, for Pomfrey to hear as she comes back from her office with the first course of potions for the wounded Slytherin. “I know that I’m worried about you.”

Pomfrey finds the time to spare Theo a smile as she floats a vial over and places it at Rosier’s lips. “What a nice sentiment, Mr. Nott. Do you see, Mr. Rosier, there are people who would like you to stop playing with nasty wards and return to the common room!”

Theo gives Rosier the very sweetest of his smiles and leaves the hospital wing with a saunter. Blaise goes at his side, although he waits to chuckle helplessly until they’re well beyond the reach of the hospital wing and there’s no way that Pomfrey can hear them.

“Do you think he’ll actually stop going after Harry, if the Dark Lord is the one who threatened him into doing it?” Blaise asks, wiping tears away.

“He’ll have to, because the next time, I’ll kill him.”

Blaise just tilts his head and nods. “And he would deserve it, for being as stubborn and stupid as he’s being.”

“You know, Blaise, if I weren’t dating Harry, I might date you.”

“And I would be flattered.”

Theo smiles at him, and they leave the corridor in perfect harmony.

*

“It makes sense.”

“It does. I just don’t know whether we’ll be able to use the spell in such a big building.”

“But we don’t have any other clues right now.”

Theo nods reluctantly. It makes sense that Riddle would have left a Horcrux at Hogwarts, the place that mattered so much to him and rescued him from the Muggle orphanage he grew up in, and it also makes sense that they might have to cast the spell several times to find the Horcrux. But that’s not really a problem. They both know the spell thoroughly now, thanks to practice with Tonks, and they can manage the magical drain of casting it.

He doesn’t, on the other hand, want anyone to see them doing it.

“Theo? Are you all right?”

Theo leans his cheek into Harry’s palm as his boyfriend comes to a halt beside him, and sighs a little when Harry strokes his skin. “Sorry, Harry. I just—I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that we’ll have to search all over Hogwarts, and we might forget a Privacy Charm, and someone might see what we’re doing.”

“So what?”

“So they might report it to Dumbledore and Snape, is what.”

“They didn’t do anything when you told them about Umbridge using Veritaserum. Why should they do a thing about us using soul magic? If the student who sees it would even recognize it, which I doubt.”

“You know we can’t count on them for any kind of responsible or consistent behavior,” Theo murmurs, and kisses Harry’s cheek when he looks mutinous. “They could decide to interfere on this where they didn’t on Umbridge. We’ll just have to cast it a few times a day and remember to put up a Privacy Charm each time.”

Harry’s mutiny drains away as he sighs and nods. “Ugh. I wish this was easier.”

“Do you think we would have got together if it was easy?”

“I don’t know.” Harry takes a step towards Theo with his eyes wide and clear and shining. “I just know that I don’t ever want to part from you. And it doesn’t really matter to me how or why we got together, as long as I never need to do that.”

Theo smiles and bends to kiss him, and then stops at gagging noises from behind them. He twists around and sighs when he sees Weasley and Granger standing there. “You don’t have to watch, you know.”

“We didn’t plan to watch! We just came around the corner and you were snogging—”

Granger hits Weasley in the side so hard with her elbow that he gags again. Theo would like to think that she might have broken one of his ribs, but unfortunately, she doesn’t hit that hard, or Draco would have had a broken jaw a few years ago. “Honestly, Ron! Although you don’t need to kiss your boyfriend in the corridor where anyone can see, Harry.”

Harry shrugs. “Anyone who has a problem with me doing that can answer to me.”

“And me.” Theo drops his chin on Harry’s shoulder and delights in watching them struggle to deal with it.

He does grunt a little when Harry directs his own elbow back into Theo’s ribs, but that doesn’t diminish the delight.

“You’re ridiculous,” Granger says crossly. “Harry, why did you ask us to meet you up here?”

“Because I need to know who your loyalty is to, me or Dumbledore.”

Theo pauses. He knew he and Harry would be meeting Weasley and Granger near to—not inside—their private classroom, but not what they would discuss.

After a moment of shock, however, he accepts it easily. After all, this is Harry’s decision to make.

“What?” Weasley says, while he flushes a shade of red that looks unhealthy.

“I think you heard me.”

“Mate—there’s no conflict. You and Dumbledore are on the same side of the war, remember?”

Theo snorts. Weasley spins around to face him. “What, Nott? Do you deny that? Did you—convince Harry to join—”

“If you think Harry would ever join the man who murdered his parents, you’re far more hopeless than I thought,” Theo mutters, shaking his head. “I was snorting at the idea that one could only be on the same side as someone else if they agreed with everything the other person did. But I see I have even more lack of nuance from you than I suspected to mourn over.”

“Theo.”

Theo sighs and moves back with his hands raised. Honestly, he doesn’t mean to antagonize Weasley and Granger. It’s just that they show up spouting this sort of righteous idiocy and he can’t resist.

“Thank you,” Harry says, with a withering glance, but at least he turns the same one on Weasley. “You know there’s a conflict, Ron. He didn’t want you to tell me about the Order of the Phoenix or the reason that he wanted you to not write to me. So I wanted to know if you’re keeping any other secrets from me, or if this is it and you’re going to be loyal to me from now on.”

“I’m loyal to you.”

It’s Granger who speaks. Theo eyes her temperately. She was an idiot last year when she was trying to reconcile Weasley and Harry against Harry’s will, but she’s not been an idiot other times.

And she wasn’t as much of an idiot as Weasley himself.

“Are you?” Harry leans back against Theo, who grunts a little in surprise but then supports him, as he intends to do until the day he dies. “Would you mind swearing a vow to prove it?”

Weasley takes a long breath, but releases it without actually saying anything. Granger’s gaze is steady as she removes her wand from its holster. “I suppose that you have some wording in mind?”

“Yes, actually,” Harry says, and pulls a scroll of parchment from his pocket.

Theo blinks. He and Harry worked on the wording of the vow, but Theo thought it was something Harry was going to have Black swear. He supposes that it still might be. Weasley and Granger will just come first.

Granger studies the scroll and bites her lip. But she raises her wand without hesitation. “I swear on my magic, my life, and the blood that runs in my veins that I, Hermione Jane Granger, am loyal to Harry Potter above Albus Dumbledore. I will keep no secrets from Harry that Dumbledore asks me to keep, and I will tell Harry Potter the full and absolute truth concerning him and Theodore Nott as I know it.” Her magic flares around her, and the vow glows white and silver for a second before it settles.

“Hermione.”

“I can still keep secrets, Ron, just not ones from Harry.”

“And if there are ones that we need to keep because they’re—I don’t know, about personal things?”

“Oh, have you started having sex, then?”

Theo asks the question in as innocent a voice as he can, because it’s brilliant when they flush as brightly as they do. He laughs and leans back against the support provided by the wall and Harry while Granger’s brilliant blush and Weasley’s outraged spluttering answer the question for him.

“Theo.”

“They’re so fun, though.”

Harry rolls his eyes and faces Weasley again. “I wouldn’t ask you to tell me secrets about things like that, Ron. You’ll notice that the vow is worded so that it only applies to secrets about me and only to things that Dumbledore told you.”

“But—it’s possible that he could tell us something we would really need to keep from you, and we wouldn’t have a choice but to tell it to you!”

“Like what? What would fit that category?”

Weasley hesitates.

Harry nods. “I don’t really think there’s anything that would, which is why I worded the vow the way I did. Sure, he could still ask you to keep secrets from me. But now, as per the vow, you would need to tell me what they are.”

“And we can’t use our own judgment?”

“So far, your own judgment hasn’t been great, Ron.”

“What do you mean?”

“Last year.”

“I really did think that you forgave me for that, mate,” Weasley whispers, his eyes closing. “I’m trying. I wouldn’t ever do something like that again. I know that it’s stupid to be jealous of you now.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble making the vow,” Theo says helpfully. “Because this means that you’ll be able to keep Harry’s secrets and not have to rely on your own judgment, or even make a mistake when you’re really trying not to.”

Weasley glares at him, but says nothing for a long moment. Then he turns back to Harry. “It’s possible that Dumbledore could—read our minds,” he says reluctantly. “I think that he’s a Legilmens.”

“Yeah, he is,” Harry says. “And he could read your minds, but we’ll work on both teaching you Occlumency and teaching you how to avoid meeting his eyes in a way that looks natural.”

“And will we learn your secrets, too?”

“I don’t think you have any interest in how often Theo and I snog, Ron.”

In Weasley’s spluttering and denial, Theo can see Granger’s eyes fastened on them. She thinks that they have more dangerous secrets, Theo knows. He can still remember the way she confronted him about Umbridge’s death.

But she didn’t have any hesitation about swearing the vow, either.

In the end, Weasley does the same, and Theo relaxes for the first time since the ward burned Daedalus Rosier.

Granted, it helps that Harry takes him to the private classroom for one of their more-than-snogging sessions almost the moment that his friends leave.

Chapter Text

Theo casts the spell that he’s been casting on every floor of Hogwarts for the last few weeks. It’s familiar by now, the way that he has to brace against the rush of magic and energy leaving him, the way he reaches out to grasp the air or the wall or Harry’s arm when he’s done. Harry supports him and murmurs gentle words to him.

Theo closes his eyes for a moment in exhaustion.

And then he snaps them open, because a light is imprinting dancing lines across his eyelids.

A light.

He exchanges a look with Harry, who is leaning forwards as though he’s going to charge through the wall to the glow. Because the glow is coming from within the wall. As though something is hidden within the stones, Theo thinks, taking a step forwards. Or a secret passage?

It’s probably a secret passage.

“I don’t know why he would have chosen this particular hiding place,” Harry whispers, his breath close enough to Theo’s ear to stir delicious little shivers in him. “Do you think that he couldn’t think of a better one? Maybe he got surprised by Dumbledore when he was hiding it, and had to scramble?”

“I don’t know if he’s capable of being surprised like that. He would be overconfident and think that Dumbledore wouldn’t suspect what he was doing.”

Harry snorts a little. “Which must mean that he thought no one else could find it.” He steps forwards, running delicate fingers over the stone. “What do you think the trick of it is?”

Theo casts a Stinging Hex that makes Harry yelp and jerk his hand back from the wall. He turns to Theo with a look of extreme irritation, and Theo just shakes his head a little. “Let’s not fumble around with a wall that Voldemort might have hidden a curse or a blade in, all right? Let’s not.”

“You’re a wanker.”

“But a practical wanker.”

“Remind me of that when we’re alone next.”

Theo swallows, feeling himself get hard, and turns away from Harry to study the wall in silent dignity. Harry laughs at him, not at all silently.

Just to prove that they might be facing traps, Theo casts a Detection Charm on the wall. He raises his eyebrows when it comes back clear. It seems that there isn’t something lurking within the wall, or at least not anything that Voldemort planted to be an obvious first deterrent to finding his Horcrux.

“I wonder…”

“Yeah?” Theo turns to where Harry is standing near the tapestry of dancing trolls on the wall, his head cocked.

“Something I heard from the house-elves,” Harry murmurs. “Luna likes to visit them, and she took me along last time. They were talking about a secret room that becomes whatever you need on the seventh floor. The Come and Go Room, they called it.”

“You went to visit the house-elves with Luna?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong?”

“I just didn’t know that.”

Harry leans forwards and kisses Theo abruptly. Theo curls his fingers around Harry’s neck and hair and holds on, lapping greedily at his boyfriend’s mouth. He doesn’t know what brought this on, but he’s not going to give up the opportunity to kiss him.

Harry pulls back with a little shake of his head and a laugh. “Theo, I love you. And I can do things without you sometimes, and that’s healthy, as Hermione would probably say. I didn’t deliberately keep this a secret from you. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

Theo nods, not much appeased. “It’s a matter of your safety, not your privacy,” he adds, when Harry raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know if any other Slytherins are going to strike at you because Voldemort told them to, and I don’t know if Luna can defend you.”

“After the way you put down Rosier, you really think they would strike?”

“After the way I put down Davis and Draco, they shouldn’t have, but they did.”

“I promise that I wouldn’t hesitate to cast Dark Arts spells in self-defense just because Luna was there. She would probably accept it better than most people. And I’ll tell you where I’m going in the future if that would make you feel better.”

“Thank you.”

Harry rolls his eyes a little, but Theo is too pleased to mind. (And his lips are still tingling). “Now, the elves said the Come and Go Room only appears when called. You have to walk back and forth in front of the tapestry three times thinking about what you want.”

“What happens if we say that we want the room where the Horcrux is?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have that.”

Theo nods and begins to walk back and forth. He would feel stupid in other circumstances, but Harry is leaning against the wall with his posture alert and calm, his arms folded in front of him so that his wand is dangling down against his thigh. Theo knows that he can trust Harry to never laugh at him.

(Without a good cause, anyway).

He concentrates as hard as he can on the flash of light that the Horcrux-detecting spell produced when they cast it, and the sight of the stone wall. Then he turns around on the end of the third walk and hears Harry gasp. There is a door in the wall, a heavy oaken one with an iron knob shaped like a coiled snake.

“Did the elves say anything about that?”

“They said a door would appear. They didn’t say what it would look like.” Harry points his wand at the door and casts a detection spell, but nothing happens. “Let’s go.”

Theo does cast a shield spell that’s specifically for the skin of his hand, to imitate a glove, before he opens the door. Probably this is magic that Tom Riddle took advantage of rather than created, but why act stupidly?

Nothing happens except the touch of cold iron, though, and then the door opens and reveals…

“A rubbish room?”

“One of the elves said another name for this is the Room of Hidden Things. I think I can see why.”

“You could hide anything in this junk,” Theo mutters, staring around at stuffed animals, brooms missing bristles, robes missing sleeves, beheaded busts, broken wands, and lots more. “I wonder why Voldemort put it here?”

“He might have been thinking that no one would be looking for one thing specifically in this mess.”

Theo nods and follows Harry into the winding corridors of rubbish. It’s a good thing it’s a Sunday and they have nothing planned, not even a trip to Hogsmeade. He can tell already that this will take all day.

*

It does take most of the day, and in the end, they find it almost by accident. Harry is bending down to look at a vintage Cleansweep—while Theo argues that the thing would dump him the moment Harry tried to sling a leg over it—when he abruptly straightens and jerks his head to the side, hissing. Theo sees why a moment later.

A drop of blood is making its way down Harry’s forehead from his scar.

Theo whirls immediately, putting his body between Harry and the direction he’s facing. It’s impossible at the moment to tell what that is, exactly, or what the Horcrux is, but he does it.

“It’s over there,” Harry whispers hoarsely.

“Yes.”

Theo walks slowly in the direction that Harry was staring, shouldering his boyfriend behind him even though Harry tries to protest. A few seconds later, they’re staring at a cabinet with a bust on it.

And a diadem draped over the bust.

Even knowing what it is, even after exposure to the Dark and cursed objects in the Nott cellars, Theo’s fingers itch to touch it. He’s fairly certain that he knows what it is, and it makes him want to spit in disgust.

And desire.

“Theo?”

Theo jerks back to himself to realize that he was reaching out for the diadem. He pulls his hand back. “That’s the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw,” he whispers, and keeps going when Harry just stares at him with a baffled expression. “An incredible treasure. It increased the wisdom and the knowledge of anyone whose head it sat on. It’s been lost for centuries.”

“So for Voldemort to find it and turn it into a Horcrux…”

“It’s obscene.”

Harry is silent for a long moment after Theo speaks. Then he says softly, “We could try to remove the Horcrux with some of those spells that we haven’t studied yet in the books. If you want to keep the diadem—”

Theo shakes his head immediately, although it feels physically painful to do so. “No. We could never trust it. And I don’t want to delay our quest by months or years because we’re trying to rescue something that can’t be rescued.”

Harry leans forwards and kisses his shoulder. “All right. Do you want to destroy it right here, or move it?”

“You want to cast Fiendfyre in the middle of Hogwarts?”

“Of course not! I was going to go down to the Chamber and get a fang, and I was going to leave you here to watch it.”

“I don’t trust myself with it, Harry.”

Harry pauses, and then he rests a hand on Theo’s shoulder. Theo leans back against his boyfriend, his eyes closed. He’s grateful, for once, that Harry isn’t trying to make him speak of it.

“All right. I’ll put it in the moleskin pouch, and then we can take it down to the Chamber with us.”

Theo watches with his hands clenched as Harry prods the diadem into the air with little jabs of his wand. Theo knows it isn’t his imagination that a subtle glow surrounds the diadem, and that it’s trying to drift towards Theo. Attracted to the one who wants it, not to the Horcrux in Harry, despite that being active enough to show up to their Horcrux-detecting spells.

I don’t want you, Theo thinks, as hard and as clearly as he can. The temptation is immense—with wisdom like the diadem promises, he could see the future threats ahead, and he could access any knowledge he wanted to protect Harry—

“Theo.”

Theo shuts his eyes and turns his head away. Harry kisses his shoulder again and says nothing as he floats the diadem into the pouch. Theo takes a deep breath and shudders as he feels the pouch close and shut the temptation away.

“Do you want to come down to the Chamber with me or not?”

Theo takes a breath and opens his eyes, wrapping his mind in Occlumency. It’s not something he usually does when he’s not practicing with Harry, because he doesn’t like the way it muffles his emotions and reactions. But it appears to be necessary to do when he’s dealing with Horcruxes. “Of course.”

“You’ll be all right?”

“It’s mortifying that you’re so worried about me when you have the biggest burden of all.”

Harry tugs Theo towards him, so abruptly that Theo almost crashes into the cabinet. Harry leans his forehead against Theo’s and closes his eyes.

“You are so, so dear to me,” Harry whispers. “I don’t know if I say it as often as I should, as often as you do, but Theo, I love you more than my next breath. I don’t know—what to say to convince you that you’re important, as important as I am, and that my burden is lightened immeasurably by you being there.”

Theo leans on Harry for a long moment, trembling. Of course he never really doubted that Harry loves him, but it’s something else to hear Harry say it, to feel the way that Harry’s hands close on his shoulders.

“I know,” Theo whispers back at last. “I love you, too.”

Harry kisses his temple, his cheek, and his lips this time, each kiss a slow and solemn blessing. Then he pulls back with that vicious smile that is also part of what Theo loves about him. “Let’s go to the Chamber.”

Theo willingly follows Harry out of the Room of Hidden Things, eyes fixed on the back of Harry’s neck, how much even that seems to say how much he loves Theo.

Harry is more than enough for him, and maybe Theo doesn’t deserve him, but he will cling to him with both hands.

*

“Ready.”

Theo nods. He’s fully Occluding now, standing on the other side of a small circle of salt that Harry conjured. In the center of the circle lies the diadem, and in Harry’s hand is the fang that destroyed the diary, which was still lying on the stone floor of the Chamber in an explosion of something darker than blood.

Theo swallows at the thought of the diary. He wishes he had been here with Harry then.

But he couldn’t have done much at that age, and maybe he would have fallen victim to the diary with the way the diadem is so insistently calling him. He fixes his eyes on the diadem and watches as Harry steps across the circle and drives the fang down.

The diadem explodes.

Theo reels back with his hand across his face, and then realizes the explosion was metaphorical. The sapphire has gone flying, and the diadem is shaking and screaming with a human voice. No, worse than a human voice, something filled with hissing, on the edge of Parseltongue. Theo has never before been glad that he doesn’t speak it.

Black blood, something darker than blood, is spurting from the diadem. Harry ignores that and drives the fang home again and again.

It seems like forever until the screaming is finally quelled, and Harry and Theo are standing in the silent Chamber where now two Horcruxes have been destroyed. The diadem is in ruined pieces, and Theo stares at it and can hardly believe that he ever desired the bloody thing.

“Are you all right?”

Theo blinks and looks up. Harry is in front of him, stepping across the salt circle even as Theo watches. “Of course.”

Harry leans on him, shaking, and Theo hears the clatter of the basilisk fang falling to the ground. Theo catches Harry close and holds him. Of course he can understand why Harry was reluctant to destroy the thing. He knew the kind of horror it would cause, the kind of effort it would take.

But he did it anyway.

Theo’s boyfriend is amazing and hot.

Harry half-laughs when Theo seeks out his mouth, but he draws back only long enough to say, “Here?” before diving back in.

Theo wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and back, and knows that he can convey what he’s feeling, that Harry understands it as well as he does. In the wake of death, destruction, horror, the loss of an artifact so precious to Voldemort’s mad ambitions, they are alive.

They will keep being alive.

Theo intends to let nothing, not Horcruxes and not Voldemort, take either one of them.

*

“Why am I here, sir?”

“Because I wished to speak with you.”

Snape is as uncommunicative and stupid as ever. Theo just sighs and settles into the chair that stands across from Snape’s desk. There’s a small desk in front of it where Theo might write lines if this were an ordinary detention, but Snape just stalked up to him when Theo was on the way back from dinner to the common room and barked at him to come along. Theo did, mostly out of curiosity.

He might regret that, he thinks, as he watches Snape swish dramatically around the office.

“You are losing yourself in the Potter boy.”

“Oh, is this another intervention to proclaim that no one can love a Potter?” Theo rolls his eyes up so high he can see the ceiling and leans forwards. “Let me tell you something, sir: I am never going to abandon Harry no matter what.”

“You know…Albus told me you knew…”

There’s a long silence. Theo doesn’t see why he should offer anything, particularly with Snape glaring at him like a gargoyle.

Snape finally takes a deep breath and says, “Albus told me you know about the Horcruxes.”

“Yes. Although I’m horrified he would trust you with the information.”

“What?”

“You could decide to turn against Harry at any moment because you hate him. Or maybe you would decide to offer the information to Voldemort because he would make it worth your while. It’s hard to know what side you’re on, sir.”

Theo doesn’t really think that Snape would offer the information to Voldemort, but watching him puff up in indignation is hilarious to watch. So is watching him struggle to say something other than what’s probably the immediate curse he wants to cast on Theo.

“You are a foolish young man,” Snape finally growls.

“Right.”

“You should turn away from Harry Potter immediately. You know that he is a Horcrux. Albus told me. You know there is no hope and he will have to sacrifice his life.”

“We’re finding a different path.”

“The sooner he dies, the better, because as long as he’s alive, the Horcrux can influence and taint you—”

Snape shuts up then. Theo imagines that it’s rather difficult to speak when a wand is being pushed into your throat by someone who’s so light-headed with rage that his hand is shaking.

“Mr. Nott,” Snape whispers a second later. “You will back off.”

“Not until you swear a vow to never harm Harry again. Not in word, not in deed, not in thought, not by spell.”

It’s the kind of oath that his father would have put an associate who had betrayed him but was still useful under. From the furious widening of Snape’s eyes, Theo rather reckons he knows that.

“Do it,” Theo says quietly.

“You can do nothing to me if I do not.”

“I’ll kill you. I don’t care what the Headmaster says. I’ll do what’s needed. Choose between your life and your loyalties, Snape. I hold the first in the palm of my hand.”

Snape tries to snap and twist away from him. Theo follows without thought and then puts him under the sensory deprivation curse that he used on Davis. Snape doesn’t react as strongly as she did, given that he’s so much older and better-trained, but Theo can see the sheen of sweat on his face as he searches Snape’s robe pockets and takes his wand. When he lifts the curse, Snape stares at him as if seeing a stranger.

“All this time—”

“Yes?”

“I thought Draco was the most dangerous in your year.”

Theo smiles without bursting into laughter the way he wants to, because that might be enough of a distraction for Snape to overcome him. “Did you perhaps confuse Draco with his father? He isn’t dangerous to anything except his own ego.”

“I see,” Snape says quietly. Theo has no idea what’s running through his head, but he’s not that surprised when Snape tries to snatch his own wand back with wandless power. Theo keeps hold of it easily enough and drops it on the floor, pinning it under his boot. Snape’s eyes travel silently back and forth between his boot and his face.

“What is it to be, Snape?”

Snape stares at him with glittering eyes. Then he says, “I will swear the vow that you ask of me. And you will watch your back.”

“I respect you, which means I distrust you,” Theo says cheerfully. “But maybe it’ll be a bit easier after the vow.”

Snape makes the vow in a slow, careful voice, but Theo listens to every word and is sure that he’s not sneaking in words that he speaks softly or something like that. He nods when it’s done, and then he touches his wand to Snape’s wand and casts silently at it.

“What did you do?”

Snape’s voice is low and threatening, but Theo killed his own father and stood against the Dark Lord. He looks at his professor without fear as he returns the wand. “I cursed your wand to break if you try indirect actions against the vow.”

“That could be anything.”

“You’re dangerous, Professor. You’re smart. I trust you to know what would be against the vow and not to do it.”

“Potter has corrupted you.”

“No,” Theo says, and smiles in a way that even Snape has to look away from. “I rather think this was my father.”

To that, Snape has no answer.

Chapter Text

“I’ve done well, haven’t I, Harry?”

Theo is starting to wish that he hadn’t come. Yes, he didn’t want Harry to meet Black unguarded in Hogsmeade, but the way that Black begs for Harry’s gratitude and appreciation is just…

Pathetic.

Harry sets down the butterbeer he’s been drinking and leans forwards. They’re in the Three Broomsticks, but behind one of Theo’s wards, which means that other people in the pub can catch only blurry glimpses of them and can’t hear anything they’re saying. “Sirius, have you been going to your Mind-Healer appointments?”

Theo blinks. He didn’t think that was the root of the problem. Then again, that’s one reason Harry is so brilliant. Theo looks at him in appreciation.

“Why should I? They aren’t doing anything!”

Harry sighs. “Sirius, you know you felt better over this summer when you went to them, and that you were doing better for a long time. Things only got worse when I left for Hogwarts, didn’t they? And you started thinking that you weren’t—worthy of me or something.”

“I just want to help.”

“You did. You sent those books on soul magic that I asked for.”

“But I want to help with whatever you’re doing that means you need the books on soul magic, Harry.” Black’s hands work back and forth along the table, and his gaze is so wide and appealing that Theo is sort of surprised even a dog Animagus can do that with his eyes in human form. “Please. Please. You know that I regret not being a good godfather to you up until this point. Please don’t cut me out of your life now.”

“I’ll never cut you out of my life, Sirius,” Harry says, his voice gentle.

Pity.

“But I do need you to do better than you are now in order to participate in the sorts of things I need the books on soul magic for. I need you to trust Theo. I need you to attend your Mind-Healer appointments. Can you do that for me?”

Black casts Theo a distrustful glance. Theo smiles at him. Delightfully, that makes Black look away with a flush.

“It’s hard for me,” Black says, hoarsely, in what’s probably one of the most honest confessions he’s ever made. “When I distrusted Death Eaters for so long. But—I have to trust you, and I know that you trust him, Harry. So I’ll do it.”

“And the Mind-Healer appointments?”

“Can I stop them in a month if they’re not doing anything?”

“Only if they’re not doing anything.”

Black nods so eagerly that his head looks almost ready to fall off his neck. “I get it, Harry. I know that you want me to be well, and I would never want to take away the chance from you. I promise that I’ll do the best I can. Be the best I can.”

That’s at least something.

*

“Want to tell me what your disgust was all about?”

“What?”

“Your disgust.” Harry’s voice is even as he turns around and walks backwards down the main street of Hogsmeade. Theo eyes the people around them, but no one is specifically trying to get close right now. “You were disgusted with Sirius, and I don’t know why.”

Theo takes a calming breath and reminds himself that just because Harry might not like some of his behavior doesn’t mean he’s about to leave. “The most important thing for Black right now is having a place in your life and making up for the years he was gone by being a good godfather.”

“Yes? So? Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course not,” Theo snaps. “But it’s incredibly grating to me that you’re still the one having to act like the adult in the relationship and hold his bloody hand!”

Harry pauses for a long moment, long enough that someone almost bumps into him. Theo sends the witch a glare that has her backing off. Harry shakes his head and starts into motion, wandering towards the front window of Tomes and Scrolls. Theo follows him.

“That’s not…”

“What you want to do? What you are doing?”

“I’m protecting him and making him take measures to get better.” Harry spins around to scowl at Theo. “The way I would protect anyone else who was in that situation and needed that kind of help from me. It has nothing to do with him being an adult and what he would or wouldn’t do for me. It has to do with him needing help.”

Theo nods slowly. Honestly, that’s probably true. Harry would protect Weasley or Granger or Neville or Theo and insist they attend Mind-Healing appointments if he thought they needed them.

Not that Theo would need them, because he knows very well his specific brand of madness is good for protecting Harry. But the others.

“And yet, you’re disgusted.”

“He demands so much of you and offers so little in return. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s your godfather or a Gryffindor,” Theo adds, when Harry opens his mouth. “Not even specifically to do with the fact that he abandoned you to go chasing after Pettigrew. Because he takes and takes and takes.”

“And you give and give.”

Harry’s voice is soft, and he’s reaching for Theo with a fond expression. That’s the only reason Theo doesn’t react negatively to the words, the soft hand smoothing over his cheek.

Well, maybe for a few more reasons than that. He has a bit of self-control. “What?”

“The reason I have enough to spare for people like Sirius is that you give me so much.” Harry leans forwards and kisses him, softly, ignoring the way that a few people gape and gasp around them. He truly doesn’t seem to see them, and that makes Theo able to wrap his arms around Harry and kiss back. When Harry pulls back, he’s flushed and smiling and bright-eyed. “I love you, Theo. If you ever get tired of giving me so much, you have to let me know right away, all right? I’d never tax you.”

“I can’t imagine that I would,” Theo says, dazed, contented, floating deep in an ocean made of longing and desire and love. He swallows and wrestles back the temptation to guide Harry over to a wall and all but fuck him in public. “You realize that you give to me as well?”

“I want to make sure I do. That I never just take and take the way you say Sirius does.”

And so many of the others. But Theo doesn’t feel the need to say that right now, with Harry looking right at him, that little half-smile lingering on the corner of his mouth that no one else ever gets to see.

Not just his friends don’t get to see it. Or Black and Lupin. Or the professors. There’s—that smile is just for Theo, alone.

Before Harry, there was no one and nothing in Theo’s life that was just for him alone, except maybe his father’s hatred. Father always emphasized his duty to the Nott family. Slytherin was a mess of power plays and people who paid no particular attention to one youngster from a Death Eater family. Blaise is his best friend, but his first loyalty will always be to his mother.

Harry is his. And Theo will do anything and everything to protect that. Put up with Black. Swallow the words that he would want to speak about Harry’s friends. Protect those friends, if he has to.

Theo leans forwards and gives his mouth to Harry.

*

“Father wanted me to give this to you.”

Draco’s eyes are cast down on the floor, as if he wants to show very firmly that he knows Theo is above him. Normally, Theo would enjoy the demonstration, and the fact that Draco felt the need to do this in the Great Hall, in front of everyone, instead of in the common room, just in front of the Slytherins.

But Theo is, at the moment, too concerned about what a letter from Lucius Malfoy might mean, particularly given the way that the man attempted to communicate with him in the past. So he offers Draco a cool nod and takes the letter from him, then tucks it away and goes on with his breakfast.

A small wave of murmurs spreads out from him, but Theo isn’t here to be their entertainment.

“I don’t know how Potter stands it,” Blaise murmurs under his breath, and Theo gives him a short half-smile and stands up as soon as he finishes eating.

Blaise joins him on his walk out of the Great Hall, and there’s a brush and ripple of motion on his right side that makes Theo relax a moment later. Harry is there under his Invisibility Cloak. They walk together, the three of them, until they reach the classroom that Theo and Harry have made their own.

“What does that bastard want?”

Theo smiles at the spark in Harry’s eyes as he casts off the Cloak and glares at the letter in Theo’s hand. Blaise clears his throat loudly, or Theo might really have stepped forwards and snogged Harry for his anger on Theo’s behalf.

“I don’t know yet,” Theo says. “But I do think it says something that he used his son to deliver the letter to me and not an owl.”

“Good things?”

“Not bad things, anyway. There might be bad news in the letter itself, but if he’d cursed it, it would have reacted to Draco touching it first.”

“Not if he used the sort of curse that means it was subdued around blood family but would react to you.”

“I’m wearing a permanent detection charm that would have warned me about that.”

“Good, because otherwise I would have had to send Draco back to Malfoy in pieces, and Draco’s annoying, but he doesn’t deserve that.”

“Have I told you lately that I really bloody love you?”

Blaise clears his throat again.

“You’re a spoilsport, Zabini,” Theo says, making his voice as sulky as possible so Harry will smile, and then slits the letter open.

The parchment inside is silky and looks like cream. Theo raises his eyebrows. He thinks he knows what it is, but he would be surprised if he’s right. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that Lucius Malfoy would send.

Then he turns over the letter, and he’s proven right after all.

To Theo Nott,

This message is a call for truce for a period of two hours to be agreed between the two of us within three days of your receipt of this letter. My Lord wishes to meet with you and speak with you on a matter of mutual benefit. This parchment will be signed by both you and him and guarantee that you will not be harmed by curse, spell, hex, disease, poison…

On and on it goes, the list of things that Theo will be exempt from. He skims it, doesn’t see anything obvious missing from it—it even includes Legilimency—and resumes reading near the bottom of the sheet.

My Lord’s word that he can offer you more than you have ever dreamed of. Send back your proposal for the day and hours. My Lord will accept anything reasonable.

Lucius Malfoy, of the Malfoy family.

Theo whistles softly under his breath and extends the letter to Harry when he makes a motion to take it. Blaise moves around so that he can read the letter over Harry’s shoulder, but that’s not a problem. Theo is already considering how they can use this to their advantage.

“No.”

“What?”

Harry’s eyes are flaring as he lowers the letter and stares at Theo, and his magic does the same thing a moment later, surrounding his body like a waterfall of golden and silver light. “You think I’m going to turn you into the spy that Dumbledore would have wanted you to be if you’d claimed sanctuary from him? That I want you to take the Mark? Of course bloody not, you bloody fucking fool.”

Theo revels for a moment in the strength of Harry’s love for him, but then says, as gently as he can, “No, Harry, I would never take the Mark, not even if I thought that you wanted me to. It would render me useless, given that the people who take the Mark don’t have the choice to disobey the Dark Lord directly. What matters is that I can use this to get close enough to earn an advantage for us.”

“I don’t want you spying!”

“I was rather thinking about using one of the spells that Tonks taught us on the Dark Lord himself.”

“What spells?” Blaise asks.

Theo smiles at him. “Tell you in a minute.” He will trust Blaise with the full information, as long as he makes an oath. Then he turns back to Harry and waits.

Harry pales and flushes by turns. Then he says, “You prat. You let me think—”

“I never mentioned taking the Dark Mark. You jumped to that conclusion all on your own, dearest conclusion-hopper.”

“The air in here is thick with sweetness,” Blaise says loudly.

Theo rolls his eyes at his friend, and turns back to Harry.

“So you want to pretend to agree, and then go and talk to Voldemort for me.” Harry ignores the way that Blaise flinches.

“No. I want to talk to him for us.”

“Theo, now is not the time to be an overly literal prat.”

It probably isn’t, Theo has to agree when he sees the green tint to Harry’s face, but he reaches out and gathers his boyfriend into his arms. “The parchment would mandate that I agree to two hours of peace and no attempt to harm him,” he murmurs. “But it doesn’t matter if I cast a spell, if it doesn’t harm him. And it wouldn’t.”

“He could do something anyway. He could poison you with a snake—”

“Poison and snakes are on the list of things that he can’t use,” Blaise interrupts, waving the parchment around.

Harry closes his eyes tightly. “How much can we trust that Voldemort and Malfoy will actually keep the terms?”

“If he signs this parchment, he’ll be as bound by it as I am. I was surprised that Malfoy sent it, because it really does guarantee a binding truce for as long as the parties who sign it agree on. I would think it’s a trick, and there are spells I can perform that will test it. I’ll do them. But if it’s genuine…”

“It would be a chance,” Harry whispers. “A chance that we might not ever have without this.”

Theo nods.

“I thought of another problem,” Blaise says suddenly. “I know that the Dark Lord has more than one name. What happens if he signs with his—moniker? Would that bind him? He probably won’t consent to sign with his birth name.”

“No,” Harry says. “But I’m fairly sure that he no longer thinks of himself by his birth name. Even the—well, we’ll tell you in a few minutes, a shade of him, that I met in second year in the Chamber of Secrets, only used his birth name to try and fool me and the student that he possessed. He was very insistent about claiming the name Voldemort—honestly, Blaise!—once he told me who he was.”

Theo nods again. “I’m not worried about that. I’ll insist on the name he made up for himself, and if he signs the parchment with that, it will signal that he is just as bound by it, and considers it his name, as much as anyone else would be by their birth name.”

“We’ll have to be careful.”

Theo ducks his head and smiles at Harry from under half-closed eyelids. Not even Blaise’s loud throat-clearing can stop him from doing that. “Of course we will. I have no doubt that we can manage to trick him.”

“But if you’re bound by the same parchment, wouldn’t he suspect that drawing your wand on him would be some sort of spell? Even if he didn’t think it would be a harmful one?”

“The spell that I’m thinking of can be placed in an object beforehand, and enchanted to release with a touch of a finger. And although I’ll respond within three days, I’ll set the time when we should meet for a fortnight hence. That’ll give me time to enchant the object.”

“I’m the object-enchanter around here,” Blaise says, with the kind of haughty imitation of offense that he’s so good at.

“I wouldn’t command you to help, Blaise.”

“I want to. I want him dead.”

Theo pauses. Blaise has never said that Voldemort wasn’t his enemy in particular, and he obviously wouldn’t want him to win, given that he’s Theo’s friend and Theo is Harry’s boyfriend, but Theo didn’t think—“Why?”

“He made threats to my mother. Recently.”

Theo clenches his hands for a long moment. Then he nods. “We’ll make sure he pays.”

Blaise tosses him a bloodthirsty smile. “It would be my honor to enchant this object for you, Theo. Once you tell me what kind of spell you would need to cast, and what you would need the object to do.”

“Of course.”

Theo turns back to Harry, who has gone silent. Theo doesn’t think it’s just because he was speaking with Blaise and Harry thinks interruptions would be rude. He would have interrupted if he had something important to say.

Those vivid green eyes lock on Theo for a long moment. Theo gazes back and exudes quiet confidence. It’s true that they’ll need to take precautions, but also true that they’ll have the time and bloodthirstiness to take those precautions.

“Okay,” Harry whispers, and nods. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

“You could be walking into a trap tomorrow.”

Theo looks up. Harry’s voice is tight and raw, and he’s staring at the book on soul magic in front of him as if he wants the rip all the pages out. They’ve spent hours researching the spell that Theo wants to cast on Voldemort and making sure he can cast it. The trouble is, it won’t actually show the results except to the caster.

And except when it’s cast on someone who actually has the kind of broken soul that Voldemort does.

“Harry.”

Harry turns wide, miserable eyes to him. Theo puts down his own book and goes over to Harry. They’re in their classroom, and the soft, shimmering shades of ocean color on the wall cast blue and green shadows over Harry’s face. They can’t hide his fear, his love. Nothing can, Theo thinks, and he wouldn’t want anything to.

“I’m going to be all right.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that because Voldemort swore on that parchment not to harm me, and he swore with the name he chose. And I know because nothing would prevent me from coming back to you.”

Harry is quiet for a long moment, staring at him. Then he leans forwards and kisses Theo so hard that Theo goes reeling back and lands on the end of the same couch Harry has been lying on, almost falling on his arse.

“You have to come back,” Harry breathes, his hands clamping on Theo’s shoulders and hauling him to his feet. Theo’s head reels like his body. Harry has never been this aggressive. “You have to come back to me.”

“I swear, Harry,” Theo breathes. “I swear.”

Harry pulls him harder and shoves him around while Theo is still too dazed to really realize what’s going on. Theo finally lands on the couch with his back against it and his legs spread. Harry kneels in front of him and stares up at him with dark eyes.

Then he opens Theo’s robes and pants and takes his cock in his mouth.

Theo had no time to prepare. He tosses his head back with a harsh cry, fingers digging into the couch. He can’t get his breath. He can’t get his balance. The whole world is formless and swimming with red and black and blue.

When he comes, it wrings all the breath and the pleasure right out of his body.

Harry is on the couch beside him when Theo recovers, crouched over him with his eyes huge. Theo reaches up and drags him into a kiss so hungry that it makes them both shudder. Harry lies down on top of Theo, his legs spread and his back arching.

“Please,” Theo whispers.

He has no ability to ask for more than that, but maybe Harry mastered Legilimency without telling him, because he leans down and kisses Theo and then gives him exactly what he wants. He presses his cock between Theo’s legs and rubs, skin on skin, crotch to crotch, blood rolling and streaming through their bodies.

It feels so good. It is so good. Theo is on his way to hardness again by the time that Harry stiffens and comes, soaking Theo’s robes. Theo turns his head and mouths at Harry’s knuckles, his eyes drooping shut.

“You’re mine,” Harry whispers, soft and fierce and slow, against Theo’s cheek.

“Yes. Yes, of course I am.”

Harry kisses him in a way that a stupider person might take as being satisfied. Theo isn’t stupid. They’ll never have enough of each other until the sun burns out.

He loops his arms around Harry’s neck in a silent renewal of his promise. He’ll come back from his journey to visit Voldemort, and they will experience this again. And other things, deeper, stronger, richer.

Theo will allow no less.

*

“Mr. Nott.”

“Mr. Malfoy.”

Lucius Malfoy looks Theo over, all polished smoothness and no sneer. It’s not an expression that Theo has ever seen on him before. He’s mostly encountered Draco’s father in the kind of environments where a sneer is natural. “Thank you for agreeing to come to this meeting. I do not think you will regret it.”

“I hope I don’t.”

They arranged to meet on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the one place that Mr. Malfoy could come close to Apparate Theo without triggering the wards on the school. Now Mr. Malfoy extends his arm. “I assume that you will agree to Side-Along Apparition,” he murmurs.

“Yes.”

Theo says no more than that as he moves in, and smiles a little when he sees Malfoy’s foot twitch. He wants more of a reaction, wants to be able to look down his nose at Theo and find a reason to sneer after all.

Theo doesn’t intend to give him one.

They whirl away through darkness and land in a receiving room that Theo has been in a few times when Father visited Malfoy Manor. Theo angles his body so that he’s facing the darkest corner and bows.

“You knew the Dark Lord was here?”

“I knew,” Theo murmurs to Mr. Malfoy, and then concentrates as he watches the sinuous, serpentine figure stand up.

He looks liked a stretched-out, thin version of an ancestor from a portrait that Father tried to get him to pay homage to once. Theo waited until Father was gone and then insulted the man so badly that he never tried to get near Theo again. Voldemort is like that, so pale that he seems as if sunlight would crack his skin.

Although, admittedly, the Nott ancestor Theo insulted probably didn’t have a pattern of scales under his skin.

“Let ussss become more comfortable.”

Theo nods and uses the motion of walking towards the high, dense, dark table that stands near the back of the room to remove the little black stone Blaise enchanted from his sleeve. He carries it cradled in the crook of his palm, not quite out of sight, but not noticeable. He and Harry practiced to the point that Theo is sure he can cast the spell wordlessly, but he wouldn’t want to try it without the stone.

There’s a throne-like chair waiting for Voldemort, and one slightly removed from him but on his side of the table that Lucius takes. Theo waits for them to sit down and then takes the one chair on the nearer side.

It’s also the only chair with its back to the door, but that by itself doesn’t worry Theo. He knows exactly what kind of magic he’ll use to get out of this situation if he needs to.

“I have brought you here to disssscusss your…prossspects.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You name me lord and yet you would ssstand at Harry Potter’s sssside?”

Voldemort is intimidating, this close up, where Theo can see that he doesn’t even have proper nostrils but just slits in his face. Theo looks at him calmly, though, and speaks the answer he and Harry have already agreed upon. “He gives me what I want.”

“Tell me what that issss.”

“Respect. Fame. Power, even in Slytherin. People didn’t challenge me before because I didn’t interest them, but now they keep trying to come after Harry Potter’s boyfriend, and I get to duel them and put them down.”

“With magic that your father taught you.”

“Yes. Harry gave me freedom from him as well. It might have been years before I got the chance to face my father in battle otherwise.”

“You wanted to kill him.”

Theo lets a cold smile drift across his mouth. It serves him to tell the truth, and Voldemort wouldn’t believe him even if he lied. “Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“He thought me weak.” A much easier answer than he never loved me. “He told me over and over again that I was a poor Heir and told me that he would kill me after I had sired a child. So I killed him first.”

Voldemort stares at him, his irises deepening in their red color. Theo looks calmly back. If Voldemort tries to make him do something or read his mind, he’s in for a surprise.

“I had no idea that he had been so carelessss.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You wish to be with people who will ressspect you. Who will give you freedom and power.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And you think that Harry Potter will give you that?”

“He doesn’t take advantage of the fame he has. He’s more than happy to let me manage it for him. And on top of that, I have far more protection from Dumbledore and the people who might seek to use me as long as they think that Harry cares for me.”

“He doesss not, in truth?”

“Oh, he does. But they waver back and forth between believing that and believing he could never care for a Death Eater’s son, so they will hesitate to attack me.” Theo lets his eyes flick to Lucius Malfoy. “I do not believe the same can be said for the people on your side, my lord.”

Voldemort makes a lazy little motion with his hand. “That kind of thing can be ssssettled easily enough. We need only ssswear a binding truce.”

Theo inclines his head as if agreeing, as if thinking it through, and taps his fingers on the table. It lets the stone slide forwards along his right hand without making it obvious. “You truly think that I could gain the same kind of fame and power at your side, my lord?”

“Of courssse, young Theodore.”

Theo doesn’t need Legilimency to know the Dark Lord is lying. The way his eyes gleam and the way he leans forwards a little say that he would probably be trying to put Theo under the Imperius if not for the truce holding them. He just wants to use Theo to get at Harry, nothing more.

Then again, Theo only came here to cast the spell that will reveal to them where the Horcruxes are and how many of them exist, so he can hardly object to the Dark Lord planning to use them.

“In some ways, it would be a relief not to have to suppress parts of myself,” Theo says, speaking only the truth, as needs to happen in front of a Legilimens as skilled as the Dark Lord. “Harry has friends who irritate me. Sometimes I’m sure that he’s going to give me a blistering moral lecture on whatever I’ve done that he finds unacceptable. And he isn’t interested in all of the same things as I am.”

“You would find a welcome embrace in the darknesss, young Theo.”

Theo nods a little. “All right.”

“All right? Sssso you will bring him to me?”

“If there’s a sufficiently binding truce and guarantees that I won’t be betrayed and will indeed have the kind of fame and power I want.”

“Luciusss.” The Dark Lord turns towards Mr. Malfoy. “See to it.”

While they are paying attention to each other and only each other, Theo flicks his finger against the stone under the table and thinks as hard as he can, Invenio animam.

For a moment, he doesn’t think it’ll work. Then the air grows very slightly thicker around him, and Theo sees the beginnings of light playing along the edges of Voldemort’s blunt, noseless face. He holds his breath.

Voldemort turns back to him, and doesn’t notice the light. Theo does his best to breathe normally. Hopefully the bastard will think it’s just excitement at the thought of betraying Harry and supposedly getting “everything he wants.”

And hopefully the spell works exactly the way it’s supposed to, as it seems to have so far, and reveals the light only to the caster.

“You took up with Potter in the first place for fame and power?”

“Yes, my lord. And a way to get free of my father.” Theo shrugs a little and lowers his eyes to stare at the table in front of him. “I thought I would never be free until he died, but at least I could have a little more power than I did because I would be with someone who would protect me in his own right.”

“Wassss he fond of you so fassst?”

“Harry? Oh, yes. All he wants is someone to care for him.”

“Ridiculous.”

I could show you ridiculous. But Theo just ducks his head and murmurs something in reply that Voldemort is free to take as assent.

“I have it, my lord.”

Mr. Malfoy steps up to the table carrying another silky sheet of truce parchment. At the same time, the light from the spell wells up, and Theo can see the Horcruxes.

The ruined and twisted diadem and diary float in two bubbles of pure, shining white light. Harry’s face does the same thing in a third, and Theo’s gut twists in agony and anger so fierce and strong he wishes his father were alive to see it. We’ll get rid of it. I don’t know how yet, but I promise we’ll get rid of it, Harry.

In the four other bubbles are a locket and cup that Theo recognizes from old stories, a heavy ring with a black stone that has an odd symbol carved into it, and the snake Harry fought in the graveyard.

Theo is annoyed with himself for treating the snake as a lower priority then. They could have been rid of a Horcrux if they had known what she was. But, well, at least they know, and they can destroy her now. No wonder none of the spells Harry tried on her then worked to kill her.

“You have some dissssagreement with our truce?”

Voldemort has laid the sheet of parchment in front of him, and Theo realizes that he’s been staring at the floating bubbles instead of scanning the terms. He bows his head, even though the bubbles are also showing him traces of where the Horcruxes are and he really wants to look.

He still has time. The bubbles will last another five minutes.

Theo scans the list, and smiles a little. He didn’t expect to find anything concrete to object to, which is why he made up objections in his head, but there actually is something here. “The first truce said that you would not seek to harm me by Legilimency,” he says, staring up and into Voldemort’s eyes. “This one doesn’t include that.”

“I read the mindsss of all newly initiated Death Eatersss, to make sure they are loyal to me.”

“But you could tear the truth from my mind in such a way that it left me a drooling husk and claim that it was only because you were looking for proof of loyalty. And I didn’t agree to become a Death Eater.”

“You thought this truce had sssome other objective?”

Theo doesn’t miss the way Mr. Malfoy tenses. He’s kept from harming Theo by the terms of the truce parchment as well, but trapping him in one place, as long as they didn’t harm him, wouldn’t technically violate that.

“I thought that the objective was me bringing Harry to you. Not taking the Mark.”

“What elssse would you have me do? Have I not forgiven you for your actions in the graveyard against me? Am I not a generousss lord?”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” Theo murmurs, hanging his head and watching out of the corner of his eye. The bubbles are showing scenes flying back from the Horcruxes, and now he can make out—

The cup is in a bank vault in what can only be Gringotts. The locket is in a cabinet in a dingy house that itself seems to stand in the middle of Muggle London. The ring in a half-overgrown shack that looks on the verge of collapse.

The Dark Lord leans forwards, and Theo has to tear his gaze from the snake before he sees where she is. All he catches is a glimpse of white walls.

“You will come to me,” the Dark Lord whispers. “You will replace the ssservant you ssstole from me. You will be my Death Eater, as your father wasss before me.”

“And I’ll have freedom along with my power and fame?”

“The freedom to cassst Dark Arts, to be known and feared.” The Dark Lord smiles with his lipless mouth. “Yesss, Theodore Nott, I can give you much.”

But not as much as Harry.

Theo shakes the truce parchment a little. “I still wouldn’t be comfortable with you peering into my mind and harming me by Legilimency, though.”

“I will not harm you. I will look.”

“But isn’t the invasion itself going to be painful?”

“Only if you resssist. Do you intend to resssist, Theodore Nott?”

Theo wants to tell the Dark Lord to stop calling him Theodore, but he has to admit that probably isn’t the biggest thing to worry about right now. He calls up a smile. “I want to defend my secrets, my lord. But not to resist you, no.”

“Then there should be no problem with thisss part of the truce.”

Theo doubts that very much, but he bends over the parchment and pretends to read it studiously. He sighs and looks up at last. “This is very tempting, but I really need to read it over and think about it more, my lord.”

“Then you will not sign tonight?”

“Not tonight. But I can remain in contact with Mr. Malfoy and let you know if there are any provisions of the contract that I feel uncomfortable with. Or when I feel comfortable enough to sign.”

“I am not comfortable, myssself, with letting you leave unlessss you ssswear an oath.”

“There was nothing in the treaty provisions for that!”

“I shall merely keep you here until the time hasss passsed. We could have a debate about the necessity of Legilimency.” The Dark Lord gives what might be a charming smile, except that it would have lost all charm the first time he tried to kill Harry. “Lucius, if you would?”

Theo doesn’t bother to wait and see what Mr. Malfoy intends to do. They’re in Malfoy Manor, and that means that he knows the corridors and rooms and how to escape. He turns and runs out of the room before Malfoy can make a move.

Apparently Mr. Malfoy does fire a spell, because it hits the wall and makes it crack, but he screams a second later. He’s as bound by the truce parchment as Theo and the Dark Lord are—or were.

It might be that the Dark Lord will be punished, as well, for commanding his servant to hurt Theo, but Theo doesn’t intend to wait around and find out. Maybe he would have had to sign the parchment as Tom Marvolo Riddle to be bound by it after all.

Theo dodges right, dodges left, and makes his way to the front gates of the Manor. He sees no elves or sign of any other humans on the way. It seems that Lucius Malfoy really did clear them out so that they could meet in privacy.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does except the sound of a heavy body moving behind him, and the sound of scales scraping against the floor.

Theo wheels around and casts a Stunner at the snake.

She doesn’t even slow down, instead hissing something at Theo that Harry could no doubt translate. She rears up in front of him, and Theo raises his wand and channels all his anger and fury and determination to return to Harry as he spits the incantation for Fiendfyre.

The flames immediately spread and rage out of control, and Theo can tell without even looking that they’re going to consume him. And there’s a faint pulse of pain inside him, too, probably because he did break the truce parchment to hurt something belonging to Voldemort, even though the punishment isn’t great because Mr. Malfoy broke it first.

The snake screams.

Theo runs, and runs, and runs. Only when he reaches the outskirts of Malfoy Manor and feels the anti-Apparition wards slide off his skin like water does he even try to close his eyes and summon the will to Apparate.

I need to get back to Harry. I need to get to Hogwarts.

The sky and the ground and his own body shudder around him, and Theo vanishes into the terrible squeeze of Apparition. When he opens his eyes, panting, he’s on the ground near the gates of Hogwarts.

Harry is already running towards him, although Theo has no idea how he knew. He falls, shuddering, on Harry’s neck.

It was worth it, to destroy a Horcrux and learn something about where the others are. But Theo never wants to do anything like that again.

From the way that Harry’s hands clench on his shoulders, he’ll never ask him to.

Chapter Text

“Stop it, Blaise.”

“Hush, Theo. I’m looking for signs of insanity.”

Harry, the traitor, laughs. Theo rolls his eyes at him and struggles out of Blaise’s grip so that he can stand in the center of the classroom they’ve claimed as their own.

“I got away from Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy both, and I killed the snake. I am, by definition, not insane.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Blaise says at once, and turns to Harry with an eloquent little gesture of his hands. “You don’t think it proves anything, do you, Harry? I think we should take him to Pomfrey and have her look him over just to be on the safe side.”

“Is there even a way to diagnose insanity?”

“Several different kinds, actually. For example, my mother diagnosed me with a particular form of madness when I was seven and tried to pet a dragon at the reserve we were visiting. She called it Taking-Chances-Madness, and said Gryffindors were most likely to have it, but other people could, too. I think Theo does.”

“That might be my fault. I’m a Gryffindor, after all. I might have rubbed off on Theo.”

“You certainly have.”

Blaise waves his hands up and down through the air between Harry and Theo, as if he can stop them looking at each other with heat in their eyes. Theo hides an amused chuckle. Blaise should know better than anyone else that that won’t work.

“All right, all right, all right, no sexual innuendo, please! I get enough of that from my mother.”

Harry whips around and stares at Blaise. “She abuses you?”

“What?” Blaise probably flushes. “That’s—not what I meant. I just mean that she jokes about her relationships to her husbands, and I don’t need to hear any more of it. All right? No more of it.”

Theo just shakes his head when Harry glances at him. He’s pretty sure that he would know if Mrs. Zabini did abuse Blaise. But she seems like the kind of woman who would be pretty intent on exposing her son to the realities of life early on.

“Okay,” Harry says, still eyeing Blaise a little mistrustfully. “But in the meantime, I think that Theo isn’t insane. He achieved exactly what we set out to do—and even better.” He beams at Theo in a way that makes Theo wish, fiercely, they were alone.

“By confronting the Dark Lord?”

“I wish you’d call him Voldemort.”

Blaise flinches, takes a deep breath, and then says, “Fine. By confronting Voldemort and almost getting himself killed?”

“He didn’t know that Voldemort would be treacherous, but he survived, and he killed the snake.” Harry kisses Theo on the cheek and stepped back, much to Theo’s intense private disappointment. “I do think it would be good if Madam Pomfrey looked at you for any injuries, though.”

“How would we explain them?”

“Dueling,” Harry says promptly. “Some Slytherins don’t like that you’re my boyfriend, and they cornered you and tried to duel you to death.”

“You know she’ll want names, darling,” Theo says reluctantly. He would love to take this as a chance to get some of the idiots he shares a House with in trouble, but the truth would emerge as soon as Pomfrey questioned them.

“Not if you were ambushed in a corner going back to the common room and never saw your assailants.”

“Would Dumbledore believe that? Or Snape, or another Legilimens?”

Harry snorts. “They didn’t act when Umbridge was torturing people with Blood Quills, so why should they act out when one random Slytherin gets bullied?”

Theo has to nod at that. Snape and Dumbledore are singularly useless at all times, and although they might ask how he got any injuries because they’re also singularly inconvenient, he doesn’t think it would take that much effort to fool them. “All right. I’ll go to the hospital wing.”

“I could tell her about the charms my mother used to make sure that I wasn’t insane.”

“Uh-huh,” Harry says, slipping a shoulder underneath Theo’s arm, even though he doesn’t require support that way. “We might need your expertise, at that.”

Theo takes the chance to steal a kiss from his boyfriend, over Blaise’s loud complaints, and then they go off to make the mediwitch’s life a little more exciting.

*

“Thank you.”

Theo blinks and looks up. The last thing he expected was for Draco to approach him in the middle of the common room. If anything, he thought that he might have to expect a curse in the back from that direction.

“Why?” Theo asks, deliberately keeping his voice soft enough that the curious ears always aimed in their direction won’t hear.

“May I sit?”

That Draco is asking permission, as if the couch that Theo and Blaise are sharing was really Theo’s, is new. Theo nods mostly because he’s curious, and taps his foot on the floor when Blaise starts to shift. He wants his best friend to keep his wand ready, sure, but Draco isn’t stupid enough to think that he can take them both at once.

Well. At least, Theo doesn’t think he is.

“You must know that the Dark Lord was a guest in our Manor for weeks,” Draco whispers. He’s staring at his knuckles, hands clenched in front of him, and Theo wonders how terrible it was for him to live with the Dark Lord. Theo has only confronted him a few times. “I thought we would never be rid of him. And now—now the Manor is gone, and he’s displeased with my father. So he’s gone.”

“Surely your father is in danger, then?” Theo wonders if Draco came to ask him for sanctuary for Lucius Malfoy with Harry’s side of the war. That’s something Theo won’t be able to oblige him in.

But Draco looks up with clear eyes and shakes his head. “The Dark Lord decided that he was so displeased with my father that was going to punish him. The punishment was stripping him of the Dark Mark. Father is weak, and he went through a period where my mother thought he was going to die. But he’s alive.”

And no longer a Death Eater.

“You’re thanking Theo for that? And for making the Dark Lord your enemy, and burning down your home?” Blaise is asking the questions that Theo is too stunned to ask right now. Theo slants a thankful smile at his best friend.

“Yes,” Draco says, and gives a little croaking laugh that makes him sound like a frog. “Because I’ve seen how bad it can get, and this is better.”

“You know that your parents might not want you associating with me?”

“Mother feels that we owe you a life-debt—or at least a debt for our freedom. She was the one who encouraged me to approach you.” Draco stands. “Please let Potter know that he can call upon us for aid, and we will answer. For your sake, though, more than his.”

And he walks away, leaving Theo struggling not to gape at his back.

“That was—unexpected,” Blaise says at last, cocking his head as though he thinks that he’ll get a better view from a literally different angle.

“Yeah.” Theo leans back on the couch and meets the gaze of a Flint cousin who could have better things to do. He turns away at once. Theo faces Blaise as if that were his intention all along, and smiles a little. “How do you think we ought to use this?”

“It’s your debt, not mine.”

“But I value your infinite wisdom.”

Blaise shoots a Stinging Hex at him, and they drop into a short duel to handle some of the tension buzzing around them. Theo’s smiling when he finally tucks his wand away and turns back to his homework. Everyone looking at him will see a calm, collected young man, not someone who was taken utterly by surprise when Draco made his offer.

But Theo still needs to discuss this with Harry as soon as possible.

*

“And he didn’t seem like he was lying?”

“I think it would have been noticeable.”

Harry stands beside Theo on the lakeshore, frowning. They sneaked out of the castle because they found listening charms strung all around the door of their classroom, and until they know who did that and if they dissipated them all, they need to spend time outside. Listening charms can’t cling to the very air.

Harry turns to face him, leaning into Theo for a moment. “I suppose we could have him bring us any information that his father knows about Voldemort and where he might have gone next.”

“We could ask. But Voldemort might have placed a geas or an oath on Lucius that would prevent him from saying.”

“Do you think Voldemort’s that sane?”

“It’s what I would do if I were a Dark Lord.”

“But you would be a much better and more efficient Dark Lord than Voldemort ever could be,” Harry says dismissively, making Theo’s heart warm. “I’ll ask again—do you really think Voldemort would be smart enough to demand something like that?”

“No,” Theo has to admit. “But we need to make sure to go slowly enough that we don’t cross some boundaries that Mrs. Malfoy wouldn’t be pleased to have us cross, even if Draco would never know.”

Harry nods. “I’ll write to her this evening.”

“Don’t you think it should be me? When I was the one Draco acknowledged owing the debt to?”

Harry smiles at him, relaxed as Theo almost never sees him in the school, even when they’re alone. In fact, he thinks the last time he saw Harry look that relaxed, they were at home. “Do you want to stand in between me and Mrs. Malfoy if she tries to send me a poisoned letter or something?”

Theo pauses. “I’m fairly sure she wouldn’t do that.”

“That’s not what I asked, Theo.”

Theo steps forwards and gathers Harry into his arms. “Yes,” he whispers, and rejoices in the way that his soft, hot breath against Harry’s neck makes his boyfriend tremble a little. “Yes, I’d like to stand between you and the world, and keep you safe forever. But you’re probably right that Mrs. Malfoy needs to see you stand independently of me. There are still some people who would think that any Slytherin would control any Gryffindor. Or that the Boy-Who-Lived can be manipulated by someone who received more lessons in manipulation than he did. We need to disabuse them of that notion.”

“I love you, Theo. Do you know that?”

Theo bows his head, and his lips brush against Harry’s. Harry stands up on his toes to fling his arms around Theo’s neck, his tongue delving past Theo’s lips. Theo loses himself to the kiss, to the warmth and trust and honesty flowing between them, and draws back only reluctantly.

“Go and write to her before I change my mind.”

Harry gives him a smile that turns dark and vicious in a way that no one but Theo will ever get to see, and murmurs, “Don’t worry. I’m going to go right up those stairs to the owlery, send Hedwig, and then go and blast away all the listening charms.”

“We won’t be able to be sure that we got them all—”

“The force of my desire to going to be behind my power.”

Theo pauses. “You’re going to be waiting there naked for me?”

“Just for you.”

It’s a trial for Theo to keep his feet on the lakeshore as Harry saunters back to Hogwarts, but he manages. He wants to bed Harry in their classroom, to make him cry out for the sake of what he’s doing with the letter to Mrs. Malfoy and with the debt that the Malfoys owe him in general.

And he can’t do that if any listening charms remain. The mere thought of someone else listening to Harry in the throes of pleasure…

It’s intolerable.

So Theo waits, and manages to wait some more, until Harry’s Patronus appears in front of him to tell him it’s safe to come.

And make Harry come, at that.

*

Theo has been aware that Snape has been watching him with glittering eyes—not a shock, given that he probably heard about the burning of Malfoy Manor from either Lucius or Voldemort. But Theo ignores it until Snape barks curtly for him to stay behind after the second Potions class since the burning.

Harry gives Theo a quick, savage glance to ask if Theo needs defending. Theo smiles and shakes his head, and Harry departs with the other Gryffindors.

Not that he’ll go far down the corridor, not if Theo knows his lover.

“Yes, sir?” Theo asks, turning around and not bothering to hide his disdain, his amusement, as he locks eyes with Snape.

Snape’s mouth is as hard as a hammer, and so is the mask that locks down over his face. For what feels like countless seconds, he just stares at Theo. Theo stares back, and thinks soothing thoughts in Harry’s direction.

Not that he thinks the thoughts will actually reach their destination, but they could experiment with spells to give themselves telepathy next. It would be useful if they needed to communicate while separated or so Voldemort couldn’t hear. And if their thoughts could actually cross vast distances—

“You are doing exactly what I told you not to do.”

Theo cocks his head and looks as winsome as he can, as innocent and surprised. “What would that be, sir?”

“You are following along with Potter. And Potter is going to lead you to your doom in the war against the Dark Lord.”

“Do you really think the Dark Lord will win?”

Snape pauses. Then he says, slowly, as if seeking some answer that Theo doesn’t know how to give him, “You are a fool if you do not fear him.”

“I fear him. But not enough to cower in the corners and cling to the walls the way that you seem to want me to do.”

Snape watches him in silence. Then he says, “You really did burn down Malfoy Manor.”

“Yes.”

“And you destroyed the snake that always accompanied the Dark Lord. Nagini. He rages and mourns over her loss.”

“Yes.”

“His rage and mourning do not frighten you?”

“I believe I have already answered that question.”

Snape continues to study him with such dark eyes that Theo expects another silly question, or another pathetic attempt on Snape’s part to separate him from Harry. But instead, Snape just turns his back with a flutter of his robes like wings. “Go,” he snaps, and strides over to clean up the results of someone’s messy experiment.

Theo raises his eyebrows at Snape’s back, but he does leave.

Incredibly, Weasley and Granger are waiting down the corridor with Harry. They both look tense and unhappy, but they’re there. Theo waits a moment, but neither speaks to him, so he leans over to kiss Harry. “I’m fine.”

“He didn’t look fine.”

“You know that he’s still convinced I shouldn’t follow you or love you because you’re a Potter. His own neuroses get in the way.”

“You know a word like neuroses?”

Theo casts a glance at Granger, amused. “I read widely,” is all he says, and tucks his arm around Harry’s. They have an appointment with Tonks to talk more about soul magic and the kinds of spells that will let them locate Horcruxes.

Except, when they start down the corridor, Weasley and Granger come with them. Theo sighs and looks at Harry. “Really?”

“They did swear to keep my secrets and tell me ones that Dumbledore tells them.”

That’s true enough, but Theo isn’t sure that he wants to test the power of that oath against any more than extremely limited circumstances. In the end, he just shrugs and keeps walking. If Harry feels Weasley and Granger can be trusted, they probably can.

If they can’t, then Theo knows plenty of spells to shut them up.

*

“Tonks, what are you doing here?”

“Er. Hi, Ron. Hi, Hermione.”

Tonks’s hair is cycling rapidly through blue and pink and black, and she gives Theo a desperate little look. Since she seems on the verge of fleeing into the Forbidden Forest, Theo decides to intervene. “She’s here to teach us some Auror spells.”

“What spells? Does Dumbledore know that you’re doing this, Tonks?”

And then Tonks finds a backbone, before Theo can even remind Weasley and Granger of the promise they made to remain loyal to Harry above the Headmaster. She stands up and fastens her eyes on Harry’s friends. “No,” she says. “Because he would try to stop us.”

“Maybe for good reason!”

“So you don’t want to fight V-Voldemort?” Tonks’s voice trembles a little, but her eyes are sly. “You just want to sit back and act like good little kids until Dumbledore tells you what to do and where to go?”

Theo wants to laugh as he watches rebellion spark to life in Granger’s eyes and then Weasley’s. Oh, she knows exactly how to handle them.

I know she doesn’t have younger siblings, but maybe they trusted her to handle younger Aurors?

“Of course we want to help!” Weasley says hotly.

“Then shut up and pay attention,” Tonks says, and faces Harry. “You think that you need to know some more spells?”

Harry nods. “We have some—ideas of where those artifacts are, but not how to get to them. And we need to make sure that we can defend ourselves from their defenses.”

“What artifacts? What defenses?”

“These are some of those things you can’t tell Dumbledore about, Hermione.”

Granger turns a little pale, but lifts her chin. “I do want to help.”

“Think you can be quiet and learn from Tonks?”

The magical world “learn” captures Granger, as Theo knew it would—as Harry knew it would. Honestly, they’re so in tune that they didn’t even need to discuss it.

“Of course we can do that!” Granger folds her arms and frowns at Theo over them. “You would be the one I would assume would get upset about learning from a ¬half-blood.” Her voice is high and mocking.

“Well, he isn’t,” Harry says, and grabs Theo’s arm before he can go for his wand. Theo wasn’t actually intending to, since he’s accepted Granger’s grating personality, but he does enjoy putting his chin on Harry’s shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes at Granger, who looks frustrated. “Tonks, think you can teach us a few more of those spells?”

Tonks flickers her eyes to Harry’s face, a question in them. Theo knows why. Granger and Weasley are going to have to know the names and incantations of some of those spells, which will help them figure out what they are.

But Harry just nods, his face calm, and Tonks ends up pulling out her wand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They “go,” and learn more spells, and if Theo is waiting for Weasley or Granger to curse them in the back, it doesn’t happen. Harry is focused, attentive, and Theo makes himself be as well.

In the end, while it isn’t the most pleasant afternoon in the world, he’s pretty sure he can actually put up with Weasley and Granger if they keep behaving like civilized human beings.

Chapter Text

“My boy, if I could ask for a moment of your attention?”

Theo feels both surprised and not that Dumbledore is approaching him now. On the one hand, it seems like something he should have done a long time ago so that he could get “proper control” of Theo, however he would term that.

On the other, maybe he knew that he would never get that proper control and he’s only doing this now out of desperation.

Dumbledore is a little narrow-eyed when Theo turns to face him, probably because Theo is smiling at the last pleasant thought he had. Theo just inclines his head. “Of course, sir.”

They step out of the flow of students heading to the Great Hall. Theo is a little, honestly surprised to see Luna come to the edge of the flow and stare at him pointedly, lifting her wand from the holster.

Theo just shakes his head at her, and she turns and joins the flow like she never stopped.

“You are able to make people be loyal to you somehow.”

“That sounds like a complaint, Headmaster. But I can teach you how to do it if you want.”

Dumbledore stares at him as if waiting for Theo to laugh. Theo keeps a placid smile in place, and Dumbledore finally shakes his head and turns away, saying only, “Walk with me,” as if Theo were a fellow professor.

Well, if he’s offering. It’s not like Theo doesn’t have plenty to teach him even if he rejects the specific offer of lessons in holding and keeping loyalty.

Theo puts his hands in his robe pockets and ambles along with the Headmaster. It gets them a lot more than one look. Not everyone is aware of the situation with Harry and Theo and the professors, of course, but they are aware that it’s not usual for a student to be acting like they’re Dumbledore’s equal.

Theo just returns their looks blandly, and people, especially the Slytherins who know how much power he has in the House, decide to keep their opinions to themselves.

“Here should be sufficient.”

They’re not actually outside, but close to the doors of the entrance hall, and a respectable distance from the staircases that lead down to the Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms. Theo faces Dumbledore, beaming, and waits. He doesn’t think he’s wrong that the little sound he hears is the Headmaster grinding his teeth.

“We have had difficult conversations that did not go in the direction I would have preferred them to go.”

“That’s a shame, Headmaster,” Theo says, with all the sincerity that he ever used to tell his father that he respected him, and waits some more.

“I would repair the relationship if I could. Since it does seem as if you’re in Harry’s life to stay.”

“I’m so glad you recognize that, sir,” Theo says earnestly. “I know that Harry looked up to you a lot in the past, and it must bother him to have two people so important to him be at odds.”

Dumbledore pauses as though trying to sort through the words Theo is or isn’t speaking, and then just continues with an impatient little shake of his head. “This conversation is actually about you, Mr. Nott, rather than about Harry.”

“Oh?”

“I have heard very disturbing rumors about you.”

“Oh?”

Dumbledore seems to be waiting for Theo to either break down and confess what a very bad boy he’s been, or for Theo to launch into some furious denial about how he never did anything reprehensible. He seems incredibly puzzled when Theo stands there and does nothing but smile at him.

Finally, the Headmaster apparently gives up on Theo growing a conscience that would conform to Dumbledore’s principles, and speaks directly instead. “That you attack other students. That you attacked Professor Snape.”

“Sir, if I’d done that, do you think that I would have left them alive? If they were threats to Harry?”

“So you are admitting that you do murder your enemies. That you might have murdered Umbridge.”

“Are you sorry for allowing her to use a Blood Quill on students?”

“What does that have to do with the current conversation, Mr. Nott?”

“I thought we were just asking questions that we wanted the answers to.”

Dumbledore closes his eyes, then opens them. His voice is a thready whisper, low and fragile. Theo doesn’t know if he would hear it if he weren’t standing right there. “I am asking because Harry Potter is important to so many people in our world, and there are so many who would panic at the thought that he has given up fighting Voldemort in order to—to spend time with his boyfriend, essentially.”

Theo snorts. He means to keep it at just that, but he can’t. The sound bursts out of him again, followed by laughter so loud that he’s honestly surprised it doesn’t hurt his throat.

He’s aware of Dumbledore casting a Privacy Charm around them, probably a good thing, since Theo doesn’t want to answer questions to anyone but Harry and maybe Neville or Luna or Blaise as to why he’s howling with hilarity. He can feel the Headmaster’s patience growing thin as they stand there, but all he has to do is open his eyes and look at Dumbledore, and he just bursts into laughter again.

“Are you quite done, Mr. Nott?”

Dumbledore sounds offended, of course. Theo bites his lip and holds in the chuckles that still want to escape as he nods. “I suppose you could say that, sir.”

“What is so funny?”

“That you think Harry would just give up on the world and allow everyone he loves to be conquered or killed by Voldemort. That you think I’m a bad influence on him months after I should have proved I’m a good influence.” Theo waves a hand at Dumbledore and straightens up. “Everything, really.”

“Mr. Nott. You know that Harry will have to die.”

“I know that you’ve convinced yourself of that, and you’d probably prefer Harry commit suicide so that you don’t have to kill him yourself.”

The shock on Dumbledore’s face is probably real, Theo thinks. But not because the idea of forcing Harry to commit suicide or killing him never crossed the old bastard’s mind. Because he was able to hide from it and not think about it until Theo forced him to confront it just now.

“I am not sure what you think of me, Mr. Nott, but I—”

“Am perfectly willing to do what you think would keep the world safe at Harry’s expense. I do believe that.”

Dumbledore is silent for long enough that Theo begins to wonder if the conversation is over and the Headmaster will simply let him go. But of course it isn’t. Dumbledore turns and stares at Theo with hard, old eyes. “This is another difficult conversation that has gone in a way I did not expect.”

“Surely you’re used to it by now.”

“Mr. Nott.”

Dumbledore’s voice is low, and he’s decided to try looming over Theo with a stance that makes Theo want to laugh. Not because it’s really funny, but because Dumbledore thinks this kind of threat will intimidate Theo where it never did before.

Theo holds his gaze, and lets a little more of his true self leak into his eyes and expression. Dumbledore starts, his hands clenching in front of him for a moment.

“I know that you can persuade Harry to do whatever you want,” Dumbledore finally says, voice still a few centimeters above a growl. “So persuade him that the war is important and he must continue to fight.”

“Neither of us ever meant to abandon it.”

“But with the amount of time that Harry spends with you, snogging you and doing nothing else—”

“You think that he spends too much time kissing me to fight?” Theo says, as loudly and obnoxiously as he can. The Privacy Bubble means that Dumbledore is the only one who hears him, of course, but it still makes the old man flinch. “You’re ridiculous. What actions have you taken to advance the war in the last few weeks, Headmaster?’

“I have been doing research on Voldemort’s other Horcruxes.”

“And?”

Dumbledore looks at him wordlessly.

“You’re not willing to share what you might have discovered about Horcruxes when you can’t use that information to force me to abandon Harry.” Theo nods, all his amusement cooled and congealed like lava on his soul. “It’s been fun, Headmaster, but we’re done now.”

He breaks the Privacy Charm by taking a step backwards, and then turns to walk to Arithmancy.

“Mr. Nott.”

Theo looks over his shoulder. Dumbledore is studying him with grave eyes, and maybe a more honest expression than any he’s ever worn around Theo.

“Can you afford to have me as your enemy?”

“Can you afford to alienate Harry and me over nothing but a matter of your pride?”

Dumbledore recoils. Theo smiles at him and continues down the corridor towards Arithmancy.

Harry reaches out and tugs him into a side corridor before he’s gone too far, which Theo did sort of suspect would happen, but is delightful all the same. Theo leans his elbows on the wall over Harry’s shoulders and leans in to kiss him.

Harry allows it for a long time that is also delightful, but in the end, he pulls back and asks Theo, “So what did Dumbledore want?”

“He thinks that I’m evilly distracting you from the war and focusing on defeating Voldemort because our snogging sessions are too frequent.”

Harry stares at him with his mouth a little open. Then he begins to laugh. Theo puts up his own Privacy Charm so that no one else can happen along and steal the moment, and strokes the side of Harry’s face as his boyfriend gradually gets himself under control.

“Well, there goes any temptation I had to share our knowledge about the Horcruxes with him.”

Theo nods. “You say that you’ve got your godfather working on the one that’s possibly in the bank?”

“Yeah. He had a good relationship with the goblins before he went to prison, apparently. A lot of the Order of the Phoenix members didn’t want to deal with them at all, so Sirius went. They liked his, uh, chaotic style, I think is how he phrased it.”

“And we can trust him?”

Harry sighs a little and thinks the question through. Then he says, “If he betrays us, it’s because of his fear and the effects of Azkaban, not through any fault of his own. But I don’t think he would. He doesn’t have enough knowledge about what the Horcruxes are, and I told him that this mission is secret even from you. He’ll be all the more determined to keep it from people like Dumbledore.”

Theo nods, well content. He’ll still keep an eye on Black, but it doesn’t have to be the kind of intense watch that he would probably need to keep with other people searching for a Horcrux.

“And you’re all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dumbledore had you alone for over ten minutes.”

“I’d notice if he’d placed a charm of any sort on me,” Theo says dismissively. He does cast a spell Father taught him that will disable tracking charms and the like, but nothing shows up, and the spell just runs over his body in a delicate wave of what looks like golden dust before dissipating. “I did offer to teach him how to make people be loyal to him, but he didn’t appreciate the offer.”

Harry bursts out laughing for the second time in five minutes. Theo leans in and lets himself nuzzle Harry’s cheek because the Privacy Charm blocks sight as well as sound. He loves making Harry laugh. He loves the way that Harry’s eyes shine and little snorts escape him as he tries to get himself under control.

He just loves Harry.

*

“What are you reading, Theo?”

Theo doesn’t swoop the book out of Neville’s sight, because that would be an amateur move. He just smiles a little and tilts it so that Neville can see the charmed and glamoured title instead. “Secrets of Immortality.”

“Oh.”

Theo nods. “It’s pretty dry.” And that’s a true statement, although the book, which is really called Secrets of the Darkest Soul, is dry because of all the magical theory information about what happens to a soul when you cast spells on it.

“I haven’t found anything else that would help us. But—something happened today.”

Theo sets the book aside. Neville is drooping in a way that’s become pretty uncommon since they returned to the castle. Theo runs the usual suspects through his mind—Snape, other Gryffindors, Mrs. Longbottom—but Neville only flops onto the couch without naming one. Theo says softly, “What was it?”

“I…” Neville trails off and licks his lips. “You have to remember that I’m really not good at anything besides Herbology.”

“That’s not true.”

“What?”

“You’re great at being a friend.”

Soft red floods Neville’s face, and he straightens up a little. “Thanks, Theo,” he whispers, his voice steady and not trembling as much now. “Even if you’re the only one who ever tells me that…”

“Harry would agree,” Theo says, and shoves his foot against Neville’s boot. “Come on, tell me what happened. Someone said you weren’t a good friend?” He knows it isn’t that, of course, but Neville will gain more confidence if he’s the one able to talk to Theo about it.

“No. They—they said I wouldn’t pass my OWLS. Except in Herbology.”

“You’re going to.”

“B-but how can you be sure?” Neville’s eyes are big and his mouth trembling a little. “We don’t even receive our scores for weeks after the term ends, and I’m not a good student, and there’s no way that—”

“Harry and Luna and Blaise and I will make sure you pass them.”

Neville stares at Theo as if he’s never considered the possibility that friends might help him. But then Theo thinks, Who was really his friend before this year? It’s something that he has to admit was a shortcoming of Harry’s, even, since he spent all his time with Weasley and Granger and only ever looked beyond them because Weasley was a prat about the Goblet.

“Y-you’d help me study?”

“Of course we will.”

If Theo were talking to a Slytherin, he would offer other reassurances, based on the ability to cast spells that will fool the anti-cheating ones on the exams, but he doesn’t think Neville would take that well. He just offers a steady smile instead, and Neville shudders and half-collapses on the couch in a way that makes Theo badly want to hurt someone. He doesn’t know if Neville will tell him who said that about his exams, though.

“Thank you.”

“What are friends for? You’re helping us with our research, and of course we’ll help you study.”

Neville gives him a trembling-lipped smile that makes Theo wish he knew exactly who had said that about the OWLS to him. But he puts it out of his head. They have enough to worry about right now.

And even if part of him wishes that he could go back to studying his book when Neville lingers and talks about the difficulties he has studying for Potions, Theo can’t deny that the rest of him finds the conversation…

Pleasant.

*

“Theo. Theo!”

Theo rolls out of a sound sleep in instant, landing in a crouch beside his bed with his wand in his hand. This is like the way that his father would sometimes wake him up and demand that he be ready to defend himself—

But then he recognizes Blaise’s voice, and sweeps the bed curtains that are still partially blocking his view aside to see him. “Blaise?”

“Harry is hammering on the common room door.”

Theo shoots silently past his best friend and down the stairs, gliding along at a pace that he never knew he could achieve. He is predatory, filling himself fill with readiness for violence, to shatter someone’s defenses—

Or their spine if they’ve truly upset Harry.

When the common room door opens, Harry spills inside, not even giving a glance around at the different setup. He grabs Theo’s arms and leans in close enough to hiss, “You know that we had Sirius looking for the thing?”

“Yes.” Theo understands him instantly, and doesn’t blame him for not elaborating when more than one Slytherin has come down to stare.

“He found it. And he brought it here.”

Theo understands immediately, again. There could be a chance of the cup possessing Black, or someone else, but more than that, this is their chance to destroy the thing without anyone else getting involved.

“I’m ready,” he says softly, stepping backwards.

The Slytherins gathered in the common room are staring, maybe as much because a Gryffindor is in their space as anything else. But they lower their eyes swiftly enough when Theo turns to look at them.

Theo nods and raises the kind of ward that will keep anyone except people who have positive intent towards both Harry and Theo from coming out the door. Then he slips out after Harry.

Blaise is quick to join them, of course, unaffected by the ward. “What is it?” he demands, running beside them down the corridor.

“Black did something maybe heroic and maybe stupid,” Theo says shortly as they round the corner and keep pounding up it in the direction of the entrance hall.

“Ah, it’s like the summer all over again.”

Theo flashes a smile at his friend, and then they have to concentrate on running. Maybe there’s no reason to hurry, of course. Maybe the cup is different from the other Horcruxes and can’t really possess someone, and maybe Black wouldn’t listen to it if it could.

On the other hand, this is Black they’re talking about.

Best to hurry.

Chapter Text

“Theo, where are you going?”

“This way,” Theo says, without turning around. Harry and Blaise were heading directly to the entrance hall, but Theo knows a secret passage that will bring them out in the same general direction of Black without taking them through such a public place.

“Do you think that’s necessary?”

“What do you want to bet that Dumbledore’s watching?”

That’s enough for Harry. Blaise looks a little doubtful, but they’re too busy running for him to stop and make a coherent argument. Honestly, Theo is impressed that Blaise, who has never been that much into physical exercise, is keeping up as much as he does.

Harry plays Quidditch and said something once about having learned to run away from his cousin early on. Theo—

Well, Theo learned to run for other reasons.

They come out of the secret passage on a patch of moonlight-soaked grass that makes Blaise stare around. Theo leaves him to categorize the exact placement of the exit if he wants to. He hurtles around the base of the tower and towards the road that leads to Hogsmeade, Harry still easily keeping pace with him.

“Damn it, wait for me!”

Theo turns his head a little to show that he heard Blaise, but he keeps running. By now, Black has probably been alone with the cup for at least ten minutes. Who knows what it could have done to him?

Or him to it, I suppose.

They end their run when they reach the grass near the gates and see Black standing in front of the actual gates, his hands clasped around a cup that seems to shine golden even in the muted colors of the night. Black’s hands are shaking, and a little snarl is working over his face. He raises his head a second later and howls like a dog, even through a human throat.

“Sirius!”

With the way that Harry is hurtling along, he might try to touch the cup to take it away from Black. Theo snaps his wand down and Summons the Horcrux.

It goes soaring straight out of Black’s hands as if waiting for this opportunity, and Theo raises a shield. The cup bounces off it and lands on the grass, rolling. Theo stoops without stopping and casts a shield around his hands before picking it up. Blaise was reaching, too, and Theo thinks he can handle the cup better than his best friend, whatever Blaise might have learned from his mother.

Oddly, the cup shudders and spins in Theo’s hands. Theo narrows his eyes. He isn’t feeling anything because of the shield on his skin, but—

Then the cup reaches out and grabs his mind.

*

“Here you are.”

Theo blinks and looks around. He’s standing in a large, dim room that he doesn’t recognize. Mist shifts back and forth along the stone walls, and he can see distorted shadows moving with it. When he takes a step closer to the wall, some of the shadows echo it, and he realizes they’re reflections.

The entire room is covered with mirrors.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” Theo says, turning to face the man leaning on a wall not far from him. He expected a manifestation of Voldemort, after all. “But I didn’t see that I needed to pay attention to you right away.”

The man flushes and takes a step forwards. Abruptly, the ceiling flares with white radiance, and Theo can see his face.

It’s not Voldemort after all.

“This is what you could have been,” his future self, taller and thinner and meaner and glowing with power, whispers. “If you didn’t give in and become no more than an appendage of Harry Potter.”

Theo blinks a little. Then he says, “You think I was born to be a wanker?”

“Do I look like one?”

“Someone who goes to bed alone every night and only gets solace from his hand? Yes, you do.”

His other self recoils a step. Theo stands still, watching him. He has to admit this is an innovative defense for the cup to have, and that he’s glad they got to Black when they did. That prick probably has no protection against himself, and would have an even harder time acknowledging his own self-loathing than what he did to Harry as a baby.

The silence breaks as his older self says wonderingly, “I see that I was too late. You’re so devoted to someone who offers you a bit of attention. Are you really that determined to turn away from Father, that you would embrace a person who will do you no good because he’s the opposite of what we were raised to be?”

“Explain to me why Harry won’t do me any good.”

The other Theo relaxes, his eyes bright. He moves another step forwards. “Do you remember that you used to dream of power when you were little?”

“Yes. The power to make Mother return and Father love me.”

“More than that,” Theo’s other self says, after a second’s pause. Perhaps it would be too short for some people to notice it, but Theo notices it, and rejoices in what it signifies. “You wanted to be free and so strong that no one could ever attack you again, or force you to submit to their will.”

Theo nods obediently. This is familiar territory, and he thinks he sees where the cup’s defense is going now.

“But instead, you have Harry Potter controlling you. Making you fawn on him. More powerful than you.” His older self takes yet another long step forwards, the grey cloak that he wears fluttering behind him. “Is this what you wanted when you were younger? Is this what you gave up your independence for? Is this what you want for the rest of your life?”

“You think he’s in control of me?”

“You are not in control of him. That means he rules you.”

Theo throws back his head and laughs. Again his older self pauses, and Theo shakes his head and moves in. It was a little interesting to talk to himself, but he’s tired of the game, and interested in piercing through the cup’s defenses.

“You understand nothing about love,” Theo whispers. “I don’t think you’re me, anyway. I think you’re Voldemort’s soul-shard, coming up with arguments to hold me here. But I will answer you one more time as if you were me.

“That boy who lay in his bed dreaming of absolute power did it because he couldn’t imagine a future where he had love. But I have it now, and I would never give it up for some arbitrary dream of domination.”

He strikes while the soul-shard is still opening his mouth to answer. There is a scream, and Theo feels a shiver of pain traveling through him, but the shadow dissolves in front of him, and all the reflections flare bright in the mirror for a moment before the stone hall and the mist and the glass all dissolve around him.

Voldemort has never understood love. Neither did Father. It doomed them both. It will save us.

*

“Theo!”

Theo staggers as he comes out of the illusion the cup cast over him. He shakes his head and stands. The golden cup clatters on the ground at his feet, and Theo casts a shield around it when he sees Blaise reaching for it.

His best friend stops and gives him an injured look. “I wouldn’t have touched it,” he grumbles. “I’m not that stupid, you know.”

Theo gives him a half-hearted smile and manages to hold out his arms just in time for Harry to crash into them. Harry grabs him and holds him close, nuzzling his face into the side of Theo’s neck for a minute. Theo caresses his boyfriend’s shoulders and kisses his cheek, ignoring the face Blaise is making.

“You weren’t there for a minute,” Harry whispers.

“I disappeared?’

“You wavered back and forth like you were a shadow. And I saw a shadow come out of the cup to confront you.” Harry steps back but keeps his hands wrapped around Theo’s shoulders, his worried eyes on Theo’s face. “It was the soul-shard, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Theo admits. “He took my own form and taunted me that I would become weak by being involved with you.”

Harry’s face crimps up. “Bastard.”

“Yeah.” Theo kisses Harry again, a slow, lingering kiss that makes Blaise sigh and Black stare at them with wide, motionless eyes. “But he refused to believe that loving you doesn’t make me weak, and that was what let me come back to you.”

Harry smiles and leans in for another kiss, but Blaise clears his throat loudly and asks, “Were you going to explain this to the rest of us?’

“Yes, all right,” Harry says, turning around. He catches Black’s eyes for a moment. Black stares at the ground instead of interfering, more subdued than he’s been since Theo first met him. “This is an artifact of Voldemort’s that he uses to maintain his immortality. I told you a little about the diary in second year, Blaise. It’s like that.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Black says, in what seems to be a mixture of indignation and petulance.

“I didn’t think that it would manage to take you over. The diary couldn’t unless you wrote in it. How did you find it, Sirius?”

Black lifts his head, indignation retreating for happiness. “I thought that You-Know-Who might have given an important artifact to Bellatrix. She was his favorite in the last days of the war, and the Order tried to kill her lots of times but never got close. And I had the right to enter the Gringotts vault because she thought it was amusing to give me access when she married Rodolphus to taunt him. We—were close then.”

Harry’s expression clears as he nods. “And she never revoked your access?”

“She might have thought to, but she’s been in Azkaban for years. And she might still believe that I was a Death Eater.”

“That’s good,” Theo says.

Black turns and stares at him for a long moment. Then he swallows. “You really weren’t tempted by that thing?” he asks, nodding at the shielded cup on the ground without attempting to touch it.

Theo is glad for that much. It would be a bit taxing to rescue Black from the consequences of his stupidity twice in thirty minutes. “No,” he says. “It showed me a shadow of myself that wasn’t tempting at all. All it did was rant at me about power and how I wanted power as a child. And I did. Power to make my parents love me—or come back, in the case of my mother. But now I want something else.”

He turns and smiles at Harry, and receives a smile from his boyfriend that could light the world on fire in return. It’s really amazing how no one tried to date Harry before he did. How do other people not notice the light he radiates?

“Yeah, well,” Black mutters. He shakes himself all over and stares at the cup again. “How are we going to destroy it?”

Harry reaches into a satchel slung over his shoulder. Theo is the only calm one when he brings out a basilisk fang, the base of the fang wrapped in silk. Then again, he knew Harry was going to take it from the basilisk’s corpse.

“Harry…” Black’s voice is a dry little rustle.

“It’s all right,” Harry says, and he can radiate calm when he wants to, as well. “I used a basilisk fang to destroy the diary in second year. And so I know that this will work on the cup, too.” He takes a sharp step forwards before anyone else can argue and brings the fang down on the cup’s base.

There’s a scream and a shudder, and Theo claps his hands over his ears as the rising, thin sound goes on and on and on. The black blood that bubbles out of the Horcrux makes Blaise start back with an exclamation of disgust. Black leaps out of the way and actually transforms into a dog in mid-leap, which would make Theo laugh if he weren’t shuddering.

The scream soars, and soars, and then ends. Theo looks down at the pitted, smoking metal of the cup with a sense of satisfaction.

“What was that?” Black whispers.

“The death of a powerful artifact,” Harry says simply, and tucks the basilisk fang away.

Black shakes his head, glancing between Harry and Theo with uneasiness in his eyes. It’s enough to make Theo say sharply, “Do you think we want Voldemort to survive? That we would kill this one in a way that would make him still able to use it?”

“I—” Black swallows with a click of his throat. “No, that’s not it.”

“Then what? Stop glaring at us.”

Black lowers his eyes and gives such a long sigh that Theo wouldn’t be surprised to see his toes fall off. “I wasn’t glaring at you,” Black whispers. “I don’t distrust you. I just think of how young you are, years younger than we were when we were fighting our war, and I’m—sorry, that’s all. I wish you didn’t have to.”

Theo blinks, then nods. That’s not something he expected to hear from Black, but he can accept it, even if he suspects it’s more for Harry than him. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I don’t think we have debts between us, Black. You and I are fine.”

Black gives Theo a hilarious look, as though expecting him to manifest another head on his shoulders that will deny what he said. Then he turns away with a limp shrug and a hopeful look at Harry. “And you and I?”

“You brought the cup to us and put yourself in great danger, Sirius,” Harry says, so gently that Theo has to roll his eyes a little. “I do accept that you’re my godfather and you’re doing the best you can to help us. And if you’ve finally given up your grudge against Theo—”

“I had good reasons for that grudge!”

“And now?”

Black gives Theo a slightly miserable look. Theo just stands where he is with a stoic expression. He isn’t about to make this any harder or easier for Black right at the moment, not with the way that he knows Black would try to blame him.

“I suppose he’s fine,” Black mumbles.

Harry gives one of those brilliant smiles again. Theo doesn’t even realize that he’s stepped towards Harry until Blaise coughs. Theo rolls his eyes at his best friend, who promptly rolls them back.

“We don’t all need to see you snogging on a regular basis to maintain full and happy lives,” Blaise mutters.

Theo goes off, for a moment, into a thought about who would need that, and then shakes himself free. He nods to Black and takes Harry’s hand. “You had success finding one of these objects,” he says. “Do you think you could find another?”

“Theo!”

“What?”

“You can’t just use my godfather as a—a Summoning spell for—artifacts!” Harry’s face is bright red, probably because he almost spoke the term “Horcruxes.” “He found this one, but it was a huge chance he took! Leave him alone!”

“I was only asking.”

“Of course I can do it, Harry!”

“But it’s not fair that you should have to!” Harry turns to face Black, waving his hands around, and even with the shine in his face coming from exasperation and not joy, Theo thinks that he’s lovely. “We don’t have such a clear picture of where we need to hunt for the next one, anyway—”

“How did you find these pictures in the first place?” Blaise interrupts. “These artifacts? I find myself curious.”

“Theo got an invitation from Voldemort to go visit him. Voldemort was trying to corrupt Theo and come at me through him. Theo performed a spell that showed some of the locations of the artifacts instead,” Harry says in a bored and impatient voice. “You knew some of that, Blaise—”

“I didn’t!”

“He was about to mention you, Black. Why do you think he was explaining this in the first place, when Blaise already knows this?’

“I knew that you cast some kind of spell. But I don’t know all the details, Theo. Don’t you think it’s time that you stop hiding them from me?”

Theo is silent for a long moment. He does want to trust Blaise. He does trust Blaise, more than he ever will Black. But there’s the fact that Blaise’s first loyalty is to his mother, and he might tell her about the Horcruxes so she could avenge herself for the threats that Voldemort made to her.

“You don’t trust me.” Blaise’s voice is low and hurt.

“You would have to swear oaths,” Theo says. “The knowledge was first revealed to us by Dumbledore, who was trying to use it to drive me and Harry apart.”

“What?” Black interrupts.

“Why would he think it would do that?” Blaise asks at the same time.

“Dumbledore thought that Theo would give up when he realized how much work it’s going to be to kill Voldemort,” Harry says, stepping in smoothly. “After all, I won’t be safe until Voldemort is dead, and he can’t die until we find and destroy all these artifacts. It could take months. Years. Dumbledore thought Theo’s interest in me would wane before then.”

Blaise stares back and forth between them. Theo braces himself. It would hurt beyond measure if Blaise turned away from him now, but—

“Has he met you?”

“What?” Theo is the one who sounds like an idiot now.

“I said, has he met you?” Blaise waves his hand between Theo and Harry. “You are sickeningly-sweet-gone on each other. Smitten. Snogging in the corridors. And he thought it would fade?”

Theo laughs a little and leans on Harry, who is looking at him with all the sappy indulgence that Theo could wish for. “He’s met us, but he still thinks that he can either convince me to walk away from Harry or Harry to give up on me.”

Blaise shakes his head. “All right. So you know where some more of these artifacts are?”

“Only vague clues. I was lucky to recognize the vision of the cup as being in Gringotts. I don’t know how we’ll find the others.”

“I can do it,” Black insists.

“And I’ll help,” says Blaise, calm but stern enough, with a glitter in his eyes that Theo knows better than to refuse.

Theo smiles at them both, Harry’s not-so-mad godfather and his best friend, and says simply, “We’ll welcome you in our battle. As soon as you swear the oaths.”

Chapter Text

“Can I help?”

Theo glances up at Draco as he sketches the last rune for the assignment that Babbling gave them in class today. “No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.”

“I didn’t mean with that.”

Well, this is more interesting. Theo puts down his quill and studies Draco for a long moment. Babbling is on the other side of the class, so she won’t overhear. Draco fidgets under his gaze, but doesn’t back down or look away.

“I meant what I said about owing you a debt,” he murmurs. “And Malfoys pay their debts.”

“I know that. But at the moment, I don’t have anything for you to do. Nothing that you wouldn’t have to have extra knowledge and power to do, anyway.”

“I have plenty of knowledge,” Draco says, his eyes darkening a bit. Honestly, Theo sort of welcomes the return of the petulant Housemate he knows. It means that Draco isn’t overawed by what happened at Malfoy Manor and will be more likely to tell the truth. “And I’m not the most magically powerful student in our year, but I’m not weak.”

“I didn’t mean like that,” Theo murmurs, although to some extent, he did. “We’re working with secrets that the Dark Lord would give a lot to learn. And I don’t know if we would be able to keep you completely safe from him.”

Draco’s throat bobs as he swallows. “What?”

“What if your father decided that he was going to give the Dark Lord a bribe in the form of your loyalty? You’ve hinted often enough that you would follow your father as a Death Eater. We can’t have someone Marked working with us, Draco. That’s just the way it is.”

“My father wouldn’t do that!”

Theo looks at him.

Draco closes his eyes. “Right. But I also thought that there was no way my father would sacrifice our home and almost my parents’ marriage to the Dark Lord, either…” He trails off. “Are you sure that I would need to know these secrets to help?”

“Well,” Theo says, struck by an inspiration, “there is one other way that you could help if you wanted. It would involve deception and trickery, and you would have to make sure not to look directly into his eyes. Unless you know Occlumency.”

“I know a little,” Draco says. “But not enough to fool a Legilimens looking directly into my eyes, you’re right. Just enough to feel the probe. Who are you talking about?”

“Dumbledore is getting on my nerves,” Theo says casually, all the better to watch Draco’s eyes widen. “He’s convinced that I’m corrupting Harry and distracting him from the war. He could use a different distraction to focus on, someone playing the evil Death Eater who would stop at nothing to destroy Harry or kidnap him, but who inexplicably keeps muffing the attempts. Think you could play that role?”

It takes a long moment, when Theo thinks that Draco might get up and walk away. And then his Housemate breaks into a delighted smile.

“Let me do it.”

*

“Are we going to bring Remus in?”

Theo doesn’t bother to hide the way he rolls his eyes at Black’s eager question. Blaise glances at him out of the corner of his own eye, amused.

It was tiring enough bringing Black “in,” considering the oaths they had to bind him with. Theo isn’t sure he wants to think about the dithering that Lupin will do, because he’s a werewolf and he’s evil, but Horcruxes are also evil, but he owes loyalty to Dumbledore, but Dumbledore has neglected Harry’s safety…

“Do we have to?” he asks.

Black glares at him. Harry grins over Black’s shoulder, but has his face composed again by the time Black turns around to whinge.

“I think that we should at least consider it.” Harry leans forwards to add a small spell to the fire. They’re meeting in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, both because it was where Tonks came to practice the latest round of Horcrux-detecting spells with them and because they can be absolutely sure that there are no portraits or ghosts spying on them here. Blaise did insist on their Transfiguring logs into proper couches around the fire, though. “Remus has a lot of experience with Dark Arts and Dark creatures that might help us.”

“His self-loathing cripples him,” says Blaise, frowning into the fire for a moment. “I don’t know that we can trust him.”

“It doesn’t cripple him!”

“Yes, it does,” Theo says, cutting off Black’s argument before he can get started. The man was almost pathetically eager to swear the oaths and vows that they required of him, to prove himself loyal to Harry, but still, Theo doesn’t want to listen to all the complaints. “He didn’t come visit Harry for ten years because he never thought himself worthy. He didn’t tell the truth about how he knew Harry’s parents until almost the last minute in our third year because he thought he didn’t deserve to be in Harry’s life. And he was so eager to catch you when he thought you were a mass murderer that he forgot his potion and endangered children.”

“I wasn’t exactly a child,” Harry murmurs.

“You were thirteen,” Theo snaps. “That’s a child.”

Harry looks at him with flat eyes, then turns back to Sirius. “We could only include Remus if you think that he would take the oaths and mean them and wouldn’t go whining to Dumbledore.”

“It should be impossible to whinge to Dumbledore, the oaths you’ve got me wrapped in,” Black mutters.

That, at least, is something that Theo can relax about. He doesn’t think Black will test the strength of the oaths when he visibly shuddered as they settled on him. He leans forwards. “This is supposed to be a council of war, not an argument about whether we’re going to include Lupin.”

“But aren’t allies part of war?”

Theo visibly rolls his eyes, and contains his response. “We can make the decision about whether to tell Lupin later. Now, we need to decide good places to cast these spells that can help us detect Horcruxes.”

“We know he gave the diary to Lucius Malfoy, and the cup was in Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault,” Blaise says, with the voice of someone who is attempting valiantly to get a meeting back on track when others have dragged it off. He shrugs when Theo elbows him, although Theo fully expects revenge later. “That suggests a pattern of giving the Horcruxes to trusted Death Eaters.”

“It doesn’t mean that he always would, though! He kept the snake beside him.”

“Do you have any better ideas, Black, or are you just disagreeing to disagree?”

“I’m just saying—”

“It’s not a foolproof pattern, since he also left the diadem in the Room of Requirement here at Hogwarts,” Theo says, ignoring them now. “And yes, he kept the snake with him, but that’s different, she was a living Horcrux. He might not have trusted anyone except himself to guard her the way he’d want her guarded.”

Briefly, his gaze crosses Harry’s. Harry gives him a tight nod. They didn’t tell Black and Blaise about Harry being a Horcrux. The news might have driven Black mad (well, madder) and there’s no telling what he would do. And Theo doesn’t think they could wrap Blaise in an oath tight enough that his first loyalty would stop being to his mother. Theo doesn’t know what Mrs. Zabini would do with this information, but he doesn’t want to find out.

(And frankly, he doesn’t want to try to wrap Blaise in an oath tight enough that it would change his fundamental loyalties).

“But we could at least look,” says Blaise, “in vaults and places important to other Death Eaters who stand high in the Dark Lord’s favor.”

“Fine,” says Black with a pout.

“Who are those?” Theo asks. “Lestrange and Lucius were the only ones I knew of.”

“Daddy didn’t tell you any other stories about his friends?”

“Sirius.”

Harry doesn’t raise his voice, but he cracks the name like a whip, and Black flinches and yelps like the dog he is. Theo glances at Harry and relaxes, burying his cold rage that rose at what Black said. Blaise is just watching from the other side of their circle, his eyes unblinking.

“Theo is the one who helped you defeat the cup and who said that you could be trusted to enter this circle,” Harry says tightly. “And you’re going to taunt him as if you just broke out of Azkaban? I’m ashamed of you.”

Black flinches again, and then turns to Theo and says softly, “I’m sorry, Nott.”

“Are you?”

“Theo—”

“No, Harry. I don’t need a groveling apology on his knees, but I do need a sincere one. I’d rather he keep it to himself if he doesn’t mean it.”

Black studies him for long moments while Harry sits back with a frown. Then Black abruptly grins, with less of a mad edge to it than some Theo has seen in the past. “I reckon you’re all right, Nott.”

“Because I helped you with your Mind-Healing? Because I didn’t back down from you?”

“Because you’re honest and you’ve explained what you want from me.” Black shrugs. “Fine. I don’t have a lot of respect for Slytherins and none at all for the sons of Death Eaters, but if I were back in the Order, I know that I’d have to work with Snivellus bloody Snape, because Dumbledore would insist on it. I reckon that I can put up with working with you.”

“Thanks so much,” Theo says dryly.

Black snorts at him and turns back to Harry. “So you want a list of Death Eaters who were close to You-Know-Who in the first war.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “I would know even fewer than Theo would.”

“My brother was one of them.”

Theo blinks. Harry blinks. Blaise blinks. There’s silence for long enough that Theo thinks he’ll be the one to break and ask Black to explain, but instead, Harry says weakly, “What?”

“Yeah. Little Reggie was a Death Eater.” The firelight catches on Black’s features and makes them fiercer. Theo hears a sound that might be him clenching his teeth. “My parents wanted him to be one, but he would have been one anyway. He believed in all that rot, about purity of blood and the right to hunt Muggles being a sign of a golden age and all that. He disappeared near the end of the war. The family tapestry lists his death date as 1979. I don’t know what happened, but maybe he got caught up in whatever happened with these—Horcruxes, and someone tried to steal one from him or something.”

“Did Voldemort favor him?” Harry asks. Theo has to content himself with Black’s flinch and not ask the question he really wants to ask, which is whether he should have any respect for the brothers of Death Eaters.

“To hear my mum tell it, he did.” Black bares his teeth and then sighs. “But she wasn’t a reliable narrator. And if You-Know-Who did favor Reggie, he didn’t do anything about his death that I ever knew.” He shrugs. “Still. He could have entrusted Reggie with a Horcrux. I could check the Black properties.”

“Reggie?” Blaise asks.

“Regulus. For a star, of course.” Black rolls his eyes. “He really did believe in all that rot. He was good friends with Snivellus once upon a time.”

“Who betrayed Voldemort,” Theo says, and enjoys the flinch.

“I don’t think he knew that, though. Or gave him enough of a chance to come back this time, didn’t he?”

Theo doesn’t actually know that, but he doesn’t know that Voldemort didn’t, either, so he accepts that with a nod. “What Black properties do you have other than that house the Order is using?”

“Lots.”

Black’s eyes are shadowed and reluctant. Theo just rolls his eyes again. “You don’t have to tell me the names. I just wanted to get some idea of numbers, and how long it’ll take you to search them.”

“Oh.” Black hesitates. “About ten. I’ll only need to look through five of them, since the others are ones that Reggie wouldn’t have had access to when he was alive. They belonged to older family members who’ve died and let them come back to the family.” He blows out air. “But it could take a while. The houses are huge. And the Horcruxes would probably have Anti-Summoning Charms on them, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Voldemort’s not that smart.”

“Can you stop saying the name?”

Theo smiles sweetly. “No.”

“Calling him the Dark Lord would sound too reverent,” Harry explains, leaning forwards so that Black looks at him instead. “And You-Know-Who and the other monikers just sound silly. You’ll get used to it, Sirius. It’s a name, and he isn’t going to just show up and kill you.”

“People who spoke it during the first war dropped dead.”

“And if he puts a Taboo on it again, then we’ll stop using it,” Theo says impatiently. “But right now, he hasn’t done that, and I don’t want to have an argument about it every time we use the name. Okay?”

“What’s a Taboo?”

Theo is happy enough to take over explaining that to Harry, and let Black, since he doesn’t have another audience, ramble on to Blaise about which house he might find a Horcrux in. Harry glances at them out of the corner of his eye as Theo’s explanation is winding down, and then leans in to kiss Theo.

Theo is happy to give in and go with it, especially as he hears Black making retching noises. He isn’t fully grown-up yet.

That’s all right. He’s only thirty-five years old, if Theo’s reckoning is right. He has time.

And Theo will make sure that Harry has all the time in the world that he needs with his godfather.

*

“And I am going to kidnap you and take you to the Dark Lord, Potter!”

Theo has to hide a grin as he pauses at the entrance to the Great Hall. Draco and Harry both got here early this morning, and Draco is standing in front of Harry, acting his heart out, better than he did when he was dressed up as a fake Dementor two years ago. He’s waving his arms around and just on the edge of screeching.

He’s enjoying himself. It’s one reason that Theo suggested this role to him.

“Don’t you threaten Harry, you arse! Incendio!”

It would be like Weasley to cast a fire spell directly at someone else, of course, Theo thinks tiredly. He can just be tired and nothing else because Harry has raised a shield in front of Weasley even before Draco could yelp and dive backwards.

“We shouldn’t resort to violence, Ron,” Harry says with a shake of his head. “It just confirms that we’re not any better than them.” He gives Draco a brave glare that would be more menacing if Theo couldn’t see the laughter dancing in his eyes.

Draco straightens himself with a haughty little sniff and a tilt of his head that would fool anybody more than a few meters away. “This is how you handle your compatriots, Potter? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You can’t even tell when a threat is real and when it’s not.”

“You’re saying your threat wasn’t real?” Weasley demands.

Draco gives a long sigh. “Why would I stand in the middle of the Great Hall and threaten to kidnap one of the most heavily protected wizards in Britain, Weasley? Will you use your brain, instead of simply carry it around?”

Theo wants to laugh again, mostly because he can see the way that Draco’s eyes flick towards him. Draco doesn’t think Hogwarts or Dumbledore or the other professors are doing anything to defend Harry, of course. He knows who Harry’s real protector is.

“Then why make it?”

“To see what you would do,” Draco says glibly. “To see the depths of Gryffindor stupidity.” He shakes his head in sadness and strides towards the Slytherin table.

It’s a good thing that I told him to do something with regards to acting, Theo thinks, remembering the badges that Draco crafted last year and the way he dressed up in the Dementor costume in third. He does best with something creative.

Theo walks the rest of the way up to the Gryffindor table and kisses Harry good morning. “Is this something I have to take care of?” he asks, with a little jerk of his head in Draco’s direction.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Harry says earnestly. “I think he was telling the truth. He’s always taunted me, and why would he stand right in the middle of the Great Hall and talk about kidnapping me?”

He and Theo exchange a smile.

“Harry! You can’t just dismiss this! You have to go talk to Professor Dumbledore right now!”

Harry sighs and glances towards the professors’ table. Dumbledore is on his feet and frowning. “Even though he didn’t keep me safe from the Tournament last year, Hermione? Really?”

“Yes! This is different! It would be just like Malfoy to make a threat he said wasn’t serious, then come back and use it against you once you dropped your guard!”

Theo hides a snort. That’s not like Draco. That’s too clever by half for Draco. But he supposes it speaks to the success of his plan to have Draco be a distraction.

“Please talk to him, Harry. Please?”

Harry visibly wavers for a second, then gives in with a sigh. “All right, Hermione. But don’t blame me when he does nothing, just like usual.”

“Mr. Potter, could I speak to you for a moment?”

They planned this, Theo reminds himself as Harry nods and stands up from behind the Gryffindor table. Harry turns to say something to Granger and Weasley, but really uses the movement to stick his hand into a robe pocket and slide out his Invisibility Cloak, passing it over to Theo.

Theo shakes his head as if disgusted with the whole affair and then flings the Cloak over himself outside the Great Hall. Harry and Dumbledore walk past a moment later, and Theo follows.

Harry didn’t let him go unaccompanied to Dumbledore’s office at one point last year, even if he had to wait outside until they were done. Theo will never let Harry go unguarded, either.

And if Dumbledore does try something…

Well, Theo still retains the memory of some spells Father taught him that ensure there is no need to bury a body.

Chapter Text

For a moment, Theo thinks the gargoyle at the bottom of the Headmaster’s stairs is going to cause a problem and not let him by, with the way that it straightens up on its pedestal when Theo sneaks past under the Invisibility Cloak. But then it huffs and turns its head to the side, as if to say it has better things to watch.

Theo smiles and speeds up the stairs.

He’s just in time to step through the door smartly behind Harry. It does help that Dumbledore leaves it up to Harry to close the door. Harry does without even a smile over his shoulder, which might have broken Theo to keep inside.

He takes up his position behind Harry’s chair, and makes sure the Cloak hangs completely to cover his feet.

Dumbledore takes his time setting up a tea service. Theo has to bite his lip to keep from laughing hysterically when he sees Dumbledore is making only one cup. Does he think Harry will be disappointed by that?

It’s too bad that leaning around Harry to see his expression is risky at the moment, because Theo really would love to see it.

Dumbledore finally leans back in his seat and directs a flat look at Harry. Theo risks a slight step to the side while Dumbledore is looking at his boyfriend, and yeah, Harry has the most fabricated expression of innocence to ever exist on his face.

“Do you know what you’ve done, my boy?” Dumbledore asks heavily.

“In this case, I would assume it’s more about what Malfoy’s done. Sir.”

“You made light of a situation that is extremely grave, Harry. That Mr. Malfoy is threatening to take you to Voldemort might indicate that he has been tasked with doing so.”

“Well, yes, I sort of thought he had. But if it’s so grave, sir, and you believe Malfoy is really going to do it, why are you interrogating me instead of him?”

Dumbledore takes a sip of his tea. Theo hopes it contains a Calming Draught.

“We cannot throw students out of the school merely for receiving undue pressure from their families,” Dumbledore says at last. “I would hope that you would understand that better than anyone, Harry, you to whom Hogwarts has been a sanctuary.”

“All right, sir. But that doesn’t answer the question of why you’re interrogating me.”

Dumbledore folds his hands on the desk and leans forwards a little. Theo is gratified to see that Harry immediately directs his eyes elsewhere, although it’s not obvious that he’s avoiding a Legilimency probe.

“Since you became involved with Mr. Nott,” Dumbledore says in a somber voice, “you have changed, my dear Harry.”

“Well, yeah. Falling in love will do that to you, sir.”

Dumbledore recoils a little. Theo switches to watching him, his curiosity too great not to. Did Dumbledore think that Harry wasn’t in love, or did he not expect him to say it?

“There is—that is a grave statement to make, my boy.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure that Theo’s plots involving me just contain couches and beds, not kidnapping me to take to Voldemort.”

It really is going to break Theo, holding his expression straight, if Dumbledore doesn’t stop reacting so openly. Right now, his jaw is hanging a bit, and he struggles to snap it shut and communicate with Harry the way that he probably thinks is dignified.

“You—Harry, you must understand that the Notts work with long-term goals. Everyone knows how close Mr. Nott and his father were.” Theo stuffs a hand into his mouth, barely managing to make sure that the Cloak still covers his arm. “Mr. Nott could still be working to trap you and take you to his Dark Lord.”

“Sir,” Harry says very slowly. “You’re aware that he killed his father, right? And that he helped me defeat Voldemort in the graveyard?”

“That doesn’t matter,” says Dumbledore, in such an ancient tone that Theo thinks he could be forgiven for thinking the Headmaster is made of stone like the gargoyle outside his door. “Not with such a long-term plan as the Notts are capable of concocting. And of course he would try to make you fall in love with him, Harry. That is what someone like Nott would do.”

“Someone like Theo?”

“Dark and driven, above all, to reclaim the prestige of his family.”

Theo really is going to burst out laughing, and then sneaking into the office will have been for nothing. He stares at the bookshelves and thinks about the way that Dumbledore might be using spells or rituals from them to come up with his own plan to trap Harry and kill the Horcrux in him.

That calms him down, all right.

“Theo’s never showed the slightest inclination to reclaim the prestige of his family,” Harry says, and the way he’s rolling his eyes is visible in his voice even though Theo doesn’t look back at him in time to catch it. “He just wants to be with me and help me defeat Voldemort. And we’ll figure out other things later.”

“You think he cares nothing for the prestige of his family?”

“I just said that. Sir.”

“I cannot,” Dumbledore says, and shakes his head as though to clear it, “believe that, Harry. The way that purebloods are raised differs from you and me. They are raised to put family first, always, and to disown children who do not.”

I wonder if you would think differently if you had heard how many times my own father threatened to kill me.

“You make them sound like they’re not human, sir.”

“Merely another variety of human, my dear boy.”

Theo stares at him, and is glad that the Cloak covers his face so there’s no way that Dumbledore can see his dropped jaw. It really sounds like Dumbledore is approaching blood prejudice from the other direction.

“You sound like one of them, sir.”

“What?”

“Claiming that there’s some difference in humanity between us. You sound like Malfoy talking about Muggleborns—although he wouldn’t have called them that—and how they’re so different that there’s no way they can be treated humanely.”

“Of course I did not mean it that way, Harry.”

Harry stands up. Theo can’t take his eyes off him, and not just because he loves him. Harry is so powerful in that moment, standing there with his hands on his hips and his chin lifted. His green eyes blaze with sorrow, not magic, but he’s more compelling than any Dark Lord Theo can imagine.

“You sounded as if you did, sir,” Harry says quietly. “And I should have known that you weren’t really going to bring me here to discuss Malfoy or even my behavior at breakfast this morning. Of course it was going to be about Theo, and how you don’t trust him.” Harry shakes his head. “I’ve had enough of this, sir. I don’t want to talk to you about the topic again.”

“Harry—”

“No, sir.” And Harry turns and walks out of the office, leaving Dumbledore staring after him with a lost expression.

Theo suppresses the temptation to mess something up in the office and follows. After all, he would rather be with Harry than causing trouble for Dumbledore.

Harry is waiting a good distance down the corridor, beyond the gargoyle, probably because he thinks it would spy for Dumbledore. He hands Theo a warm smile even before Theo takes off the Cloak and steps forwards to kiss him.

Theo returns the kiss eagerly, trying to say without words how much he admires Harry, loves him, wants him, desires to stay at his side. Harry seems to feel the same, because his hands firm on Theo’s shoulders and trail down to his hips.

“Want to find a place to snog before class?” Harry asks breathlessly, drawing back to smile at him.

“Isn’t our next class Potions?”

“Could Snape hate you or me more?”

Theo laughs and drags his boyfriend away.

*

“Why do you have to learn all these spells, Harry?”

Granger’s voice is soft, but Theo can still hear her, especially since he just finished his own practice of a spell that Tonks assigned him. This one is supposed to tell you whether a Horcrux, or some other artifact infused with soul magic, falls inside a certain portion of a map. Theo lowers his wand and turns to look at Granger and Harry.

Harry appears a little bored, but he manages a perfunctory smile for Granger. “I told you that I can’t tell you all my secrets, Hermione.”

“Why not, mate?”

“You know why, Ron.”

Granger and Weasley look at each other. They seem lost, but also working towards some confrontation. Theo conceals a sigh. He’ll intervene if he has to, but honestly, things would be so much easier on both of them if Harry would just walk away from this stupid pair.

“What would we have to do to make you tell us all your secrets?” Weasley asks.

Theo bristles at the thought of anyone making Harry do anything, but Harry reaches back and rests a hand on Theo’s shoulder without even looking. Theo relaxes. “You would have to swear oaths to keep the secrets within a certain group,” Harry says gravely. “You wouldn’t be able to tell Dumbledore or any of the other adults even if you thought it was a good thing to do.” He considered, then added, “You could tell Sirius. But no one else.”

“Not Professor Lupin?”

“No. He’s too loyal to Dumbledore.”

“Dumbledore’s just trying to protect you,” Granger whispers, but her voice is wavering as though she no longer thinks that.

“Do you know what he wanted to talk to me about in his office today?” Harry asks, and goes on without leaving them time to answer. “Not Malfoy. Not what he could do to prevent someone from kidnapping me from the school. About Theo. About how Theo is supposedly trying to corrupt me and give me to Voldemort—” flinch, flinch “—and still obeying his father even though he killed his father. Does that sound like he wants to protect me to you?”

“If he really thinks that about Nott…” At least Weasley has the grace to flush as he turns to Theo.

“I don’t believe he does think it,” Theo says, because this much he can share. “Or he would have tried harder to separate me from Harry if he believed I was a real danger to him. He’s just upset because I’m more loyal to Harry than I am to him, and I keep Harry from being manipulated by him.”

“But why would he care about that? Or why would he be upset that Harry has a loyal protector?”

“You’d have to swear the oaths to know that.”

Granger and Weasley trade an uncertain glance. Then Granger turns to Harry and asks in a stiff little voice, “What about my parents? Or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?”

“No. They can’t be involved.”

“Harry, that’s not fair.”

Theo doesn’t expect the harsh laugh that makes its way out of Harry’s mouth, hardly different from a cough. He leans forwards and looks at his friends with unblinking eyes. They stare back like rabbits caught in a snake’s gaze.

“It’s not fair that this has all happened to me,” Harry whispers. “It’s not fair that I got marked and hunted by Voldemort—” flinch, flinch “—from the time that I was a baby. And it’s not fair that we fought last year and Sirius was in Azkaban and Dumbledore is more focused on trying to take my boyfriend away from me than he is giving me help to fight Voldemort—” flinch, flinch. “But that’s the way things are, and I don’t want to listen to you just complain, Hermione. The two of you will swear the oaths or be content with what you already know.”

For some reason, Granger and Weasley don’t puff up and lash out the way Theo thought they would. They just stand there, and then they turn and whisper to each other. Theo valiantly doesn’t try to listen in.

Granger is the one who turns back, with a resigned expression.

“I wish that we could just work together with Professor Dumbledore,” she says uneasily. “But if you say that it’s important to swear these oaths so we can know what’s going on and we can help you, Harry, that’s what we’ll do.”

Weasley nods behind her, although he looks a little green. He probably knows more than Granger does about the implications of oaths and what they do to you if you break them, Theo thinks, having been raised in the magical world.

“Okay,” Harry says, and he does look happy as he draws his wand. “These are the words you have to say.”

*

When the oath is finished, Harry tells them about Horcruxes without mincing words. He’s as blunt as Dumbledore was about the Horcrux in his head, which Theo thinks might not be the best choice, but does at least answer some of the questions he thinks Weasley and Granger would have raised about why they can’t work together with the Headmaster.

Weasley is the one who can’t get past it, which is a little surprising. Theo thought it would be Granger, who has more of a sense of righteousness.

“He wants you to die, mate? Are you sure?”

“He’s made it clear,” Harry says quietly. “And more to the point, he’s made it clear to Theo. He thinks Theo should walk away from me because I’m a tainted thing with no chance of survival.”

Granger gives a single noisy sob, but then masters herself. Theo will give her credit for bravery. She wipes her eyes as if they’re streaming more tears than they in fact are, and says grimly, “Then we have to make sure you survive.”

“I’ll do that,” Theo says.

Granger spears him with a glance. “And we’ll help.”

Until the next time that you think he’s cheating or some such thing, and then don’t care if he lives or dies. But Theo only nods, because hopefully that won’t happen again, now that they know the matter is bigger than Weasley’s pride.

“Do you have any idea how you can survive, mate?” Weasley asks, sounding desperate. “I mean, any at all?”

“Not yet. We know how to destroy a Horcrux, but the methods would only work for killing me or killing an inanimate container.” Harry reaches out and slings an arm around Weasley’s shoulders when his friend makes a noise of distress. “I promise, it won’t come to that.”

“Even if you’re trying to save people with your saving people thing?” Granger mutters.

“I would knock him unconscious and take him out of the country before I let him walk to his death,” Theo promises her.

“He might act before you knew.” Weasley is blinking rapidly.

“I know him too well,” Theo says, and smiles at Harry, who gives a smile back as hard as the one with which he looked at Dumbledore.

That smile says Harry will live for Theo, no matter what happens. He might be forced at wandpoint to walk to his death, but he would never do it on his own.

I love him so much, and he’s going to live.

*

“Theo.”

Theo whips around, alert. Even though he’s most of the way to the Slytherin common room, there’s no reason to think he’s utterly safe in this corridor. And even though he knows that voice, or thinks he does…

He does.

Luna creeps out of a corridor that Theo doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone take, her expression wan.

Her feet are bare and bleeding.

Theo falls so quickly into the heart of icy rage that he’s actually surprised at himself. He takes a slow step forwards and bends down to heal Luna, making the movements of his wand obvious so that he doesn’t scare her further. Luna lets out a small sigh when her feet are healed and stop bleeding.

In the meantime, Theo Transfigures two little pieces of rock lying near one of the walls into slippers—he’s not great at shoes—and gives them to her. Luna puts them on and then stands there in the middle of the corridor, fragile and hopeful and making Theo want to kill something.

“Who did this to you?” Theo whispers. He’s prepared to hear it’s either Ravenclaws or Slytherins, honestly. Some of his Housemates don’t learn.

Luna looks up at him with big eyes. “A couple of the Hufflepuffs who still think Harry was the Heir of Slytherin,” she whispers.

Well. Apparently some of the other Houses need teaching, too.

“All right. Can you give me their names?”

“One of them was Ernie Macmillan. And one of them was—” Luna braces herself as if she doesn’t think that Theo will believe her. “Susan Bones.”

Theo just nods. There are Gryffindors who might not have believed Luna, he supposes, or even Slytherins. Susan Bones is the niece of Amelia Bones, and supposedly she’s as honorable as her aunt.

But Theo has grown up knowing that honor has to be demonstrated, not assumed. Just like love. Just like power.

“Did this happen for the first time tonight, or did it happen other times, too?”

Luna stares at the floor. Theo waits.

“This is the second time,” Luna finally whispers. “But you’ve been so busy with Harry and—the secret meetings that you’ve had—and defending Harry—I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother, Luna. But you don’t need to wait next time.” With an effort, Theo keeps his voice gentle. She’ll close up if he snaps. “You can tell me as soon as it happens, and I’ll take care of it.”

Luna lifts her head and stares at him, her eyes as distant and bright as sunshine through a secret passage. Theo just looks at her steadily. He’s not lying, so there’s no reason for her to think he is.

“All right,” Luna finally whispers.

Theo smiles at her and adds, “And since everyone already knows that you’re Harry’s friend, you don’t need to stay at a distance from us, either. Why don’t you come join us the next time we’re in our classroom?”

“Would Harry be all right with that?”

“Of course he would. Why wouldn’t he?”

“He—the two of you might want some time alone,” Luna says, and stares directly at Theo as if she can see his intentions to snog Harry written on his face.

Theo laughs despite himself, but stops when he sees Luna shrinking back. “I’m not laughing at you,” he says. “Only surprised that you would think we have a problem with just asking you to turn your back if we want to kiss. Or waiting until we’re alone.”

Luna beams. “That’s all right, then.”

It is, in several ways, but it’s about to become not all right for several Hufflepuffs. Theo is planning a slow revenge this time, though, because there’s no advantage to Macmillan and Bones knowing who did it the way there would be with his own Housemates, and Dumbledore might go mental if Theo does something else.

No, this will look entirely accidental.

But it will ensure they can’t bully Luna anymore.

Chapter Text

“I just really don’t understand why they do it.”

“Why they do what?” Theo asks absently. He is paying attention to Harry, but he’s also focusing on the construct in front of him that he gathered the parts for. His plan relies on creating a temporary artifact, which has to be assembled out of different ingredients, like a potion.

“Why they would want to bully Luna. She’s harmless and sweet. And even if she’s a little annoying, I could name a dozen people here who are more annoying. Including the professors.”

Theo leans back and smiles at his boyfriend, who after all still has the core of that innocence Theo wanted to preserve in him. Harry is lying on the green couch in their classroom, his arms folded and a scowl on his face. It threatens to be permanent, but Theo is certain he can kiss it away after they’re done avenging Luna.

(The main impetus and plan is still Theo’s, but of course Harry joined in, the way Theo knew he would want to).

“Some people just want a little taste of power because they don’t have any in their personal lives. Others think that being annoyed is somehow a matter for revenge. And still others will do it because they assume they need to follow the crowd or fear being bullied themselves.”

“But those are stupid reasons. Cowardly ones.”

“Such a Gryffindor.”

Harry scowls at Theo, who smiles back. “Not everything about my House is bad or fits into a stereotype.”

“Of course not. But I’m saying that it won’t usually occur to some of these people that they’re cowards. If it does, they’ll do their best not to think about it, maybe by bullying someone else. And some of them value their self-preservation or their need for power over any honest self-reflection.”

“Why do you think Snape does it?” Harry asks abruptly. “Bullies me?”

“He’s annoyed and wants revenge on your father.”

“So he’s a coward, then. Because he’s not stupid.”

“I think someone can be brilliant in their particular area and stupid at something else.” Theo tests the crow feathers that hang in the silver net rigging. That’s something he could never have woven himself, but after he used a fire to melt some Sickles and placed the molten metal near the other ingredients, it began to take form of itself, the way that some ingredients in Potions become new things entirely. “I would say that Snape is a genius at Potions, but would you call him smart at relating to other people?”

Harry laughs.

Theo grins over at him and then faces the rigging one more time. The silver net is strung between several pieces of wood that he collected from the Forbidden Forest and cut and smoothed and shaped with various spells. The most important thing is that he has to do it himself. So Father taught him long ago.

Theo doesn’t like thinking about Father, but he has to admit that some of the knowledge is useful.

“What is that?”

Harry has kept his questions to an admirable minimum, and Theo smiles at him over his shoulder again. “The thing that’s going to keep my revenge on Luna’s bullies looking untraceable.”

“Why would you want to? If they don’t know it’s you, how would they be scared off doing it again?”

“And sometimes, you’re as practical as any Slytherin,” Theo murmurs, glancing over his shoulder in time to see Harry blush. “In this case, it’s important to avoid Dumbledore’s attention. We’ve been drawing too much of it. Snape’s, the same. You know they would blame us for anything they’re able to.”

“Okay. So how does this thing work? And how will it prevent them from bullying her?”

“Bones and Macmillan care a lot about their public reputations, so I don’t think they’re going to even hint to their Housemates that they’re bullying Luna, or brag about it.” Theo drew one finger down the silver and then over one of the stakes of wood. It soared into the air, stretching the netting between it and the other stakes until the thing looked like an elongated, tilted rectangle. “This will make sure that everything they do to her is returned to them twofold the first time they bully her. Then threefold. And so on.”

“So they won’t tell other people about it.”

“Precisely. Because they’ll know exactly why it’s happening to them, but they can’t actually complain about the cause. And someone who investigated might decide that it’s a karmic curse, but karmic curses only work on the basis of actual harm, not imagined harm. Someone who believed they deserved the bullying wouldn’t be able to cast one, for example.”

“So they have to admit to bullying her if they want to talk about it.”

“And I don’t think they will.”

“You’re sort of gambling, though, on deciding they won’t.”

“And have I been wrong yet?” Theo rises to his feet with a fluid twist of his waist and a long arm-stretch. Kneeling to tend to the apparatus is part of the ritual that creates it, but his back does ache. “Have I been wrong about my gamble to make friends of you or date you?”

“You were wrong about Ron and Hermione and Sirius not ever coming to our side.”

Theo laughs and joins Harry on the couch. “But look how long it took. I don’t believe I was wrong about them in essence, even if in facts.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Well, come over here and kiss me in facts, because the theoretical imagination of it isn’t cutting it.”

Theo smiles and leans in, more than happy to obey.

*

“What is it?”

Luna’s eyes are wide and fascinated, which makes Theo happy. He doesn’t like to think about them filled with tears and worry the way they were the other day. It’s because Luna is his friend, and that makes him uncomfortable.

(He might not need any friends other than Harry, but he is still determined to protect the ones he has).

“An apparatus that will help you get revenge on your bullies,” Theo says. He ignores Luna’s slightly worried look at both the words “revenge” and “bullies.” The apparatus operates on her pain and fear, not whether she calls them nargles or not. “It’ll revisit everything they do on them twofold.”

“It’s pretty, but how will I hide it?”

“I’m going to have to link it to your magical signature, which means that it will turn invisible and follow you around.” The actual magical theory is more complicated than that, but Theo isn’t inclined to explain it right now, even if Luna, as a Ravenclaw, would have a higher chance of understanding it. They’re doing this in haste before Potions, and he’ll have to run to get there. “When your bullies do something to you, it’ll start working.”

“Like a karmic curse?”

“Exactly like a karmic curse.”

“But they could tell someone…”

“Do you think they will? With as secretly as they’ve gone after you so far, and with their reputations to keep?”

Luna’s mouth forms a perfectly round little O. “I thought it was strange that they kept coming up to me when no one else was around,” she whispers. “The—the other nargles always did it in front of other people.”

Theo nods tightly. He doesn’t know if Luna’s still being bothered by the “other nargles,” but he will take care of it if she is. “Well, this will float along with you and make sure they suffer.”

“But they’ll accuse me.”

“Can they?”

Theo watches Luna work through it herself, and then she begins to smile. “If they try to accuse me, they have to admit it.”

“Yes, exactly.” Theo reaches over and pats Luna’s shoulder. “Are you ready for me to connect the apparatus to you, so that it will follow you everywhere and protect you?”

“Yes.” Luna leans forwards and studies the netting and wood for a moment. “Can I call him Charles? He looks like a Charles.”

“Whatever you like,” Theo murmurs, already working the last spell that will make sure the construct’s loyalty is to Luna and not him. There’s a spark that leaps between the netting and him, then between “Charles” and Luna, and the spell ends. The construct vanishes with a little sparkle of magic that makes Luna laugh in delight.

“I know it’s not really about me, you know,” Luna says directly to Theo. “I know it’s about Harry, their thinking that he cheated to get into the Tournament and steal Cedric’s glory, and that he was the Heir of Slytherin in second year who got away with Petrifying people.”

“I know. But this is about you.”

Luna gives him a misty little smile and a quivering lip. Theo is just as glad that he has the excuse of classes to go to so he can escape an emotional scene.

Luna is his friend, but Theo really only does emotions well with Harry.

*

Somewhat to Theo’s surprise, Bones and Macmillan don’t wait that long to go after Luna. Maybe they saw him come near her and assumed that he would do something to stop the bullying, then grew bolder when they didn’t see any immediate consequences from it. Foolish. They should have known Slytherins wait.

Bones and Macmillan both come to dinner pale and quiet, limping. Theo smiles at them. They shiver and glance away.

“What did the Hufflepuff table do to annoy you today?” Blaise asks, leaning on his elbow as he looks back and forth between Theo and the badgers.

“Oh, it turns out that two of them thought a person being annoying, or being friends with someone they consider a cheater, was enough reason to go after her.”

“I see. Would this person be sitting at the Ravenclaw table with a big smile on her face?”

“She might be.”

Blaise leans nearer and flicks a privacy charm into existence with a tap of his fingers. “Was it a karmic curse?”

“Something like that, but in the shape of an artifact.”

“Really.”

“I consider Luna a dear friend,” Theo says, popping the privacy charm and speaking a little louder in case people at the Slytherin table are just dying to listen. “It would be a mistake to think she was vulnerable because she’s not in our House or not my boyfriend.”

Blaise lets a smile flicker across his face. “I would like to learn more about this, sometime,” he says, and turns back to his potatoes.

Theo gives Harry a serene expression when his boyfriend looks in his direction. Harry smiles, too, and returns to eating, just like Blaise.

Knowing that Harry trusts him to handle this makes Theo’s veins tingle with something sweeter than wine.

*

“I know you had something to do with this.”

Oh, this is too good, Theo thinks, although he keeps his delight carefully concealed as he turns around to look at Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones. They followed him from dinner, and Theo heard them, but he didn’t expect a direct confrontation, much less in one of the first corridors leading off the Great Hall.

He adopts an expression of confusion. “Pardon me?”

“Why our feet are bleeding!”

“I don’t know why your feet are bleeding. Do you think I cursed you? Why?”

Bones pauses. She has an expression of self-righteousness on her face that makes Theo wonder why people describe her as one of the prettiest girls in school. Maybe those people don’t often see her with this expression.

“You don’t like us,” Ernie Macmillan snaps. “Everyone knows how close you are to Harry Potter.” He inflects the word with an emotion that makes Theo’s hand itch for his wand. “And we know that he was the Heir of Slytherin and never punished in our second year. We know.”

“Then why did I wait until now to curse you? And why did I make your feet bleed?”

They shift back and forth. Macmillan hisses. Theo smiles. Luna was barefooted, which probably made hers hurt more, but the curses they used won’t be comfortable even bandaged and inside shoes.

“You do know something! You’re smiling!”

“I can dislike people who hate my boyfriend for no reason without having cursed you.”

“He deserved it!”

“Then why didn’t you curse him?” Theo raises his eyebrows. “Because then there would be no doubt that I would have retaliated.”

They stare at him. Theo reminds himself to act a little calmer. The whole point is to turn suspicion away from him, not have Bones and Macmillan run to the professors with some tale that Dumbledore will of course believe.

“We—it’s been a long time,” Macmillan finally mumbles. “No one would believe us, and no one punished him.”

“Have you considered that there was nothing to punish? That he saved the school, just the way Dumbledore said?”

“It’s right that there be a punishment,” Bones says fiercely, tossing her hair. “The rule of law requires it!”

Ah, now Theo can see why she’s the niece of Amelia Bones. Maybe Madam Bones was just like Susan when she was younger. The difference is that she grew into accepting it wasn’t always her right to administer that punishment, and her niece hasn’t.

“Then curse him,” Theo says. “I dare you. But I had nothing to do with what you’re experiencing now, because you didn’t attack him.”

“We did—”

“Ernie.”

Bones’s voice is sharp. Macmillan shrinks into himself. Theo faces Bones, faintly glad that he knows who’s in charge of this dangerous pair. “Yes? Did you have something that you wanted to say?”

Bones glares at him some more. Then she says, “All right. If he wasn’t the Heir of Slytherin, who was?”

“Voldemort.”

Both the Hufflepuffs flinch in such a way that if they were on a staircase, they would have fallen down. Theo bites his lip and reminds himself desperately that this is not for his entertainment. This is the serious business of revenge.

Then again, there’s no reason it can’t be entertaining at the same time, with “opponents” like Bones and Macmillan.

“That’s—you’re just saying that because you know we don’t have a way to prove it,” Macmillan says weakly.

“Or a way to punish him,” Bones adds. Theo feels a little sorry for people who date her in the future, if she’s this focused on punishment. She would probably be a nightmare to break up with.

“No, I’m not saying it for that reason,” Theo says calmly. He might have tossed Weasley to the badgers without a care, but she was nice enough to let them watch her Pensieve memory, so he just says, “Voldemort is a descendant of Slytherin. A true Heir. He woke the basilisk and Petrified people the last time the Chamber was open, fifty years ago, when he was a student here. He managed to mask his activities that time, but this time, his spirit possessed a student and had them open the Chamber.”

“Who was the student?”

“Someone who was appropriately punished,” Theo says. It turns out to be pretty easy to lie to Bones. She calms down. “But Harry’s not Slytherin’s Heir.”

“He’s a Parselmouth!”

“And I have dark hair, and he has dark hair,” Theo says dryly. “That must make us the same person, don’t you think?”

Macmillan wavers. “But how is he a Parselmouth if he’s not Slytherin’s Heir?”

“Odd magical gifts get mixed up all the time in bloodlines,” Theo says dismissively. He’s actually parodying magical theory forty years out of date, but Macmillan is the sort of pureblood who still believes that stuff, and Bones is the sort of half-blood who pretends to believe it so as not to be left out of pureblood society. “If Harry had a distant Slytherin ancestor who passed down the gift…”

“Then he could have it even though other Potters didn’t,” Bones finishes. “Does that really happen even after generations, though?”

“Of course it does, Susan, don’t be naïve.”

Over the sound of Bones apologizing, Theo sighs to conceal his laughter. She’s the smarter of the two, yes, but still bound and defined by her self-righteousness.

“So who cursed us?” Bones asks, bringing the matter back to their bleeding feet.

“I don’t know. Would someone have reason to use that curse on you?”

An uncomfortable silence stretches over them while Theo smiles, and smiles, and Bones finally sighs and shakes her head. “No.”

“But Susan…”

“Be quiet, Ernie,” Bones says in a fierce undertone, and turns back to Theo. “All right, fine. Sorry for accusing you.”

“Apology accepted,” Theo says smoothly, because that will make it all the harder for Bones to turn on him if she decides that Theo did have something to do with this.

“And if it’s karmic—”

“I said, be quiet, Ernie,” Bones snaps, and nudges him with an elbow that leaves him wheezing before she turns to speak to Theo again. “I think we know what we need to do to stop this from happening again. Whoever cast this.”

“I wish you good luck, then,” Theo says politely, and watch them walk away, breaking into an argument before they’re even around the corner. Granted, they keep their voices low enough that he can’t tell what they’re saying, but it’s the spirit of the thing.

“That went well.”

Theo starts and turns around. He honestly didn’t realize Harry was right there. As his boyfriend straightens and comes forwards with a smile, Theo supposes it’s a good thing, in a way. He subconsciously trusts Harry enough not to see him as threat or be so vigilant that he must notice everyone in the vicinity.

As long as it doesn’t start happening with people other than Harry, Theo thinks as he leans forwards to nuzzle his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Upset that I left you out of the revenge?” he breathes against Harry’s cheek, delighted by the way he blushes and squirms.

“Not as long as they really do stay away from Luna.”

“I think Bones is smart enough to, at least. And if Macmillan tries again, then Charlie will have fun with him.”

“Charlie?”

“Luna thought it looked like a Charlie,” Theo explains gravely.

Harry blinks at him, and then bursts out in delighted laughter. Theo loops an arm around his shoulders and leads him to Potions. He ignores the hostile glances he can feel at their backs, and the hostile one they receive when they get to the classroom.

Let Snape glare. He won’t be able to hurt Harry without Theo totally destroying him. and just like Bones, Snape is smart enough to know that.

Theo smiles a little at his professor as he hands in his finished potion, and can see the way Snape flinches and then hates himself for it.

He hates himself more than me. As it should be.

No one who has done so much to hurt Harry deserves a calm heart.