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Theme # 27: Owl The owl had golden wings. Not yellow, not mustard - though that might have looked even odder, Theodore could not help thinking - Golden. Golden. Glittering, burning golden. He felt he might just end up blind, staring at it. Draco found him looking at it. "Don't bother looking," he told Theodore. "She always had worthless taste, Loony -" A second later, Draco was flying through the air. "What was that for?" he gasped, scrambling to his feet. "Sorry," Theodore said luxuriously. "Out of control wand, Draco." Draco swore, storming out of the place. Behind him, Theodore smirked. He liked Golden - A lot. |
Theme # 83: Fearful He had not betrayed the Dark Lord, because he had never been one of his supporters in the first place. All the same, he knew the Dark Lord considered what he had done treachery: he had refused to join the death eaters. He couldn't kill, not for the darkness. It was not his fault that he was the son of a death eater. He knew he had to go into hiding, if only for a while. A shiver ran up his spine as he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. All the same, he could not stop being fearful. |
As he made his way into the dark of the road stretching endlessly in front of him, Theodore glanced back. Luna stood there, framed in the doorway of their house, what they had hoped would be their heaven forever, strands of gold hanging down her slender waist. A solitary rolled down her cheek, and he stopped. "I'll be back, Luna," his tones were low, comforting. "Promise me," her voice was barely audible. He had to strain his ears to hear her. "I promise." She nodded, letting him brush her tear away, holding his hands in hers. "Be careful, Theodore." |
Theme # 15: Room "A new room?" Theodore asked, clearly surprised. Mr. Nott nodded. "You need a bigger one now, you're elven," he said gruffly. "You're supposed to be pleased, Theo," he added exasperatedly when his son did not so much as bat an eyelid, inspecting the door of his new bedroom with a scowl on his face. Theodore turn to him. "You want my room, don't you?" he asked bluntly. "Because it's got the window that looks out on that silly forest you spend half your nights in." Mr. Nott winced. "Theodore!" Theodore grinned - He loved unnerving his father. |
14. Hogwarts, A History Theme # 14: Hogwarts, A History The book really got to him sometimes, the unending text and the dates and the names and the what-not's. Theodore leafed through his copy of Hogwarts, a History, shaking his head. He wondered why he had bought the tome in the first place. He wasn't thirsting for information about Hogwarts, and he wasn't under Hermione Granger's influence, though he had always thought that infectious. He jotted down a date. Maybe, just maybe, it was because Professor Archenelle had threatened to turn them into ferrets if they didn't complete reading it by the next Thursday. |
Theme # 13: Quidditch Theme # 13: Quidditch Theodore loved Quidditch. He loved the flapping of robes as the players rose into the air, their faces ruddy and red and aglow. He loved the cheers and the jeers from the crowd, all blending together to create the most delightful spectrum of noise. He loved how the ball passed from one hand to another, until tackled by a member of the opponent team, and he loved the glitter of gold as the snitch was sighted, fast and light and dainty. But, most of all, he loved the way she climbed on to her Comet 2076, yellow hair hanging down. |
Theme # 9: Defense Against the Dark Arts Theme # 9: Defense Against the Dark Arts It was empty, and it was cold, and it was dark. Ever since Snape had taken over as their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Theodore had always felt that way in his classes. Head down, he ran his fingers over the sparkling, gray cover of his book. “Theodore.” Theodore looked up, jerking himself out of his thoughts, but Snape had already turned away. He allowed himself a bitter smile: had it been a student of any other house, Snape would clearly not have been so lenient. He looked around. Gryffindors. Why couldn’t they just have classes with the Ravenclaws? |
Theme # 10 - Arithmancy He bent his head, trying to focus better on his homework. Advanced Arithmancy with Matilda Shopkins lay open, page no. 76 in plain view. Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers. Sometimes, they made his head spin so much, Theodore seriously considered dropping the class. But he couldn't: His O.W.L result had been an Outstanding, and he always seemed to be at perfect ease when in class - which was exactly why everyone wondered at his annoyance when in his common room. No one might know his reasons, but he, for once, knew perfectly well: They had Arithmancy with the Ravenclaws. |
Theme # 30 - Feast Pansy giggled as Theodore passed her, looking perfect in his sable robes. The Yule Ball had begun, as had the feast. "Luna?" Luna Lovegood looked up, through glassy eyes. "Theo?" "What exactly are you doing, here?" "David told me to wait. I don't have any idea where he is, though." Luna replied, dreamily. Checking a sigh, Theodore shook his head. He held out his arm, for her to lean on. "Come on, let's get drinks." Dreamily, Luna nodded. Then she said, "Do you know you look nice?" Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Cheerful, Theodore wrapped his arms around her. |
Theme # 13 - Quidditch Quidditch was entertaining. - Even more so when Luna Lovegood commentated. Loser's Lurgy -? Theodore was laughing so hard, he thought he would spit his pumpkin pasty. Colour rushed into his cheeks, his mind not at all on what was happening between the two houses, in the match. All h knew was that she was commentating, that he was having the time of his life. "- I think Maurel loves the clouds, too. She -" There was a tug, and the rest of Luna's words were not heard as Professor McGonagall snatched the microphone to announce the score. Theodore could not stop laughing. |
Theme 33 - Classroom Theodore turned, taking a turn, only to end up in a well-disused corridor. It stretched, classrooms on either side, its tiles layered with years of dust. Shrugging, he took a few steps forward, before halting in his tracks. He was sure a door had just swung open, to his left. For several seconds, he did not move. Then he peeked into the nearest classroom: It was empty. Hardly unnerved, Theodore left. Behind him, Pansy frowned. She had been so sure he would look for the intruder! It was, to say the least, highly frustrating. Scowling heavily, she followed him. |
Theme 34 - Parseltongue So Harry Potter was a Parseltongue. Big deal! Theodore rolled his eyes, contemplating in silence the rumours that were spreading, like wildifre, in all four directions at Hogwarts. He can talk to snakes! He's the heir of Slytherin! He's a dark wizard! HE CAN TALK TO SNAKES! "Om?" The snake lying at his feet looked intently at its master. It hissed, softly, then wrapped itself around his feet, its large, burning green eyes glowing with glazed intensity. "Even his parseltongue couldn't make you leave me, could it now, Om?" The snake hissed, in agreement. Theodore smiled, slightly. |
Theme 35 - Pureblood He had escaped the start-of-term feast, halfway through, to - Okay, so he admitted it: he had been spying on a certain Luna Lovegood, trying to figure out what she was up to in the corridor, with her new gurdyroot and snail. Conclusion: He was stuck here, now, in front of his own common room, with no idea whatsoever what the password was. He sighed, stamping his foot in sheer frustration. "It's pureblood, you know," a sugary voice floated up to him. Theodore turned: it was Pansy. "I think I'd rather stay out, now," he answered, dryly. |
Theme 36 - Muggle "She's worse than a muggle." Pansy's voice was slow but acidic. Theodore felt his body tauten, his temper, already so close to the surface, hit boiling point with what he was sure was a highly audible thud. "Shut it, Parkinson." "You're sticking up for her?" Pansy asked, surprise overshadowing her fury. "She's a blood traitor, for Heaven's sake, Theo!" "DON'T CALL ME THEO." Pansy took a step back. "Sheesh. One would almost think you like her." Theodore scowled. "You couldn't stop me if I did, Pansy." Pansy smiled, sickly sweet. "We'll see." |
Theme 37 - Animagus Theodore knew she was a great witch. What he had not known, and would never have sans their first class, was that Professor McGonagall was also an animagus. He watched her as she handed out their homework. "I see you brought your E to an O, Nott. Good work!" "Professor, could I ask you something?" "Yes?" "Turn into cat-form once, please." She surveyed him briskly through her square glasses. "Wasn't your first class enough?" He shook his head, no - After all, if he was to become an unregistered animagus, he needed to see all that he could, right? |
Theme 38 - Patronus "Your patronus is a - what?" He was staring at Pansy through glazed, clearly disbelieving eyes - well, it did sound a little unbelievable - and she was grinning back at him, cheeks flushed with colour. Or, rather, smirking, cheeks flushed with colour. "An elephant, Theo. An African elephant, actually." Theodore blinked. "And it's - erm, huge?" Pansy sounded perfectly at her ease as she replied. "Yes. Very. Very, very, very, actually." Theodore smiled, a miserable attempt at a non-frazzled, unnerved smile. "Er, congratulations -?" Pansy grinned, her usual, sickly sweet grin. "Want a duel, Theo?" Quickly, Theodore shook his head. "No, thanks." |
Theme 39 - Duel Pansy smirked. "Don't tell me you're scared, Theo. Are you?" Theodore frowned. Scared? Of course he was not. He just did not want to face a - well, a God-knows-how-many-tonne elephant. A God-knows-how-many-tonne African elephant, to be exact. Even if it was only a patronus. "I don't think so, Pansy. But you do realize you'd ruin what's left of our dating chances even more by a duel, don't you?" Pansy scowled - badly. Inwardly, Theodore grinned. At least he had managed to wipe that smirk off her face. |
Theme 40 - Spell The first years sat in neat, little rows - looking exactly that: first years, that is. Professor Flitwick squeaked on. "Now, could anyone tell me what this spell, the one written on the board, does?" To his right, Hermione Granger's hand shot up instantly. Theodore groaned - almost out loud. Almost, but not quite. Ignoring what he was sure was the sound of Hermione's brain whirring, Theodore let his textbook fall open, flipping through the pages. The next, few words he heard were: "Excellent,Miss Granger, ten, well-deserved points to Gryffindor." This time, he really did groan out loud. |
Theme 11 - History of Magic Class was over, and Professor Binns had just floated away, right through the wall, the way he had always done for so, so many years. "You dropped your book, Lovegood." Luna looked up, dreamy and mystical as ever as Theodore handed over her History of Magic book. "Thank you. I have a first name, you know." Theodore smiled, ever so slightly. "You do? Then maybe you should tell me." "Oh, it's Luna. Father always said -" They walked off, together, Luna happily narrating, Theodore listening, his face almost impassive. Behind them, Pansy whacked a fist into the nearest wall. Ouch. |
Theme 12 - Charms Cheering charms were - to say the least - extremely silly. Theodore could not stop grinning, at everyone and everything, and at everything and everyone. "Why exactly are you so happy?" Pansy demanded. She, for once, was not in a good mood. "Maybe you'd know if you attended classes," he shot back fiercely through gritted teeth. Then he smiled, a huge, sweet smile. NOT on purpose. Pansy blinked, clearly perplexed. Draco came over. "Hey, Nott." Grin. Grin. "Hey." Both of them turned to Pansy, and smiled. Really huge. Blaise came over. He smiled, too. Pansy ran, as if for her life. |
Theme 42 - Portraits "Ah, yes, that is Aramdno Dippet, one of the finest Headmasters Hogwarts has ever seen, I must say." Nearly-Heddless Nick sounded well-informed as he spoke, his words slow but effective. "And he really duelled some famous, dark wizard?" Nick nodded, with dinity. "Funny that you do not know, Theodore. Our young generation, how miserably under-informed they are! These portraits in the corridors, each and every one of these, has significance, dear boy. Armando was a wizard with amazing capabilities, amazing reflexes. Good, old man, good, old friend, Armando." Theodore shrugged. "The Baron says he was an idiot." |
Theme # 45 - Torch "And it has a - what is it called again?" Luna looked up at him, yellow hair hanging open. "A shellwing. How many times do I have to tell you, Theo?" Theodore grinned. "As many times as I ask, maybe?" "You have a snorcorkt in your hair," Luna replied, dreamily. At once, Theodore ran a hand through his hair. A snorcorkt? What, in the name of heavens, was that? - It turned out to be a leaf. "It's a leaf, Lovegood," he said, eyebrows raised. "Oh no. It's a snorcorkt. They feed on torches, you know." He checked his grin. |
Theme # 46 - Dungeon The dungeon, as always, was too dark for any comfort. Theodore sneaked in, his invisibility cloak barely hiding his feet. They needed a shred of boomslang skin, and they needed it soon. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle: He knew their motive, and he knew it was nothing good. He did not care if Draco failed to fulfill the Dark Lord's orders: He was going to steal all of Snape's stock of boomslang skin, and he did not care if he risked expulsion. Dumbledore would understand, Dumbledore would know. The Potions Master's office loomed ahead, and Theodore breathed deeply. |
Theme # 47 - Portkey Detention - again. Theodore groaned as he separated old, worthless, disused objects from the more useful ones, stacking them as untidily as possible in separate cardboard boxes. Professor McGonagall, in brief, had gone too far. A cracked bottle fell next to an old, empty shoebox with a soft thud. Dust rose in the air, and Theodore coughed. He could not help wishing the next item was a portkey, something that would transport him far, far away from Professor McGonagall's office. To his home. To Forest Dean. To his grandmother's cottage. To any place good. - To the Ravenclaw common room. |
Theme # 48 - Leprechauns Theodore yawned, looking at the many objects still to be sorted with a dismal look. Minerva McGonagall was not unfair: come to think of it, the objects were not that many. But he had taken his time, and it was now well past seven. There were only a few things to be sorted now. An antique vase, a box that refused to open, a pair of broken spectacles... Theodore frowned, before picking up what seemed like an old textbook. He brushed off the dust. The title read: Leprechauns in Irish Mythology. Shrugging, he dropped it in one of the boxes. |
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