theodore_nott21 (theodore_nott21) wrote in unforeseen_rpg, @ 2007-09-08 16:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | theo |
Memories (flashback)
Who: Theo Nott
When: May 22nd, 1998, midday (flashback)
Where: Nott Manor
What: Theo goes to pick up his stuff and encounters something strange
Notes: Lots of angst. Parts of Theo's horrendous childhood revealed.
Status: Complete
Theo stood looking out upon Nott Manor. It was as dark and forbidding as ever, and he shivered, even though the sun was beating down upon his back relentlessly. A funny mixture of feelings was running through him: anger, sadness, fear and curiosity. He was here alone, after rejecting Blaise’s offer of company… But now, he wished he had someone beside him. Sighing, he tore his gaze away from the house and studied the gardens. The grass was longer than Theo had ever seen it, and there were weeds everywhere. Theo frowned, and glanced back at the house. It didn’t look like Father had been here for a while, but what about the house elves? Weren’t they still here? Maybe he had taken them wherever he had gone. Or maybe they had escaped. Theo didn’t care either way. He hated house elves… for a number of reasons.
Taking a deep breath, Theo pushed open the gate and walked along the path up to the front door. He laid a hand on it, memories flooding back to him. Him standing here, with his trunk, preparing for another summer at the hell-hole he had to call a home. Him leaving for Hogwarts, beaten and bruised but not broken. Never broken.
He pushed open the door and stepped in. The temperature immediately dropped and Theo shivered again, this time a mixture of fear and cold. He glanced around the wide entrance hall. It was dusty; cobwebs hung from the ceiling and were strung along the banisters of the wide staircase. Theo pressed his foot into the thick carpet and lifted it again, watching the cloud of dust rise up around his shoe. It was creepy in here, even creepier than usual.
The door suddenly swung shut with a muffled thump and Theo spun round, wide-eyed. It’s only the wind blowing the door shut, he told himself frantically. Only the wind. Nothing to worry about. He stood watching the door for a minute longer, then slowly turned back around, relaxing ever so slightly but still alert. Theo knew this wasn’t going to be easy… there were too many memories here. Still, he just had to have a quick look around for anything important and leave. He’d be here an hour, two at the most. Not long…
He stepped forward cautiously, heading for the door on his left - the dining room. He pushed open the door and stepped in. Lighting his wand, Theo cast the beam around. The light fell on sparkling silver plates and goblets, set out on the large table, as though for a party that was sure never to be held. Theo frowned.
Lifting his wand higher, Theo looked around. The carpet was thick with dust, as in the hall… Theo strode over to the big dresser and ran his finger along the surface. He lifted his finger, directing his wand light onto it. The tip was covered in dust. Theo rubbed together his finger and thumb absently, leaning over to inspect the plates and candlesticks stacked up on the shelves. They were clean. Theo straightened up, feeling his brow furrow. What was going on?
Shaking his head, Theo decided to get back to the task in hand. His gaze flew over the dresser, over the ornaments, china and candlesticks. Nothing he particularly cared for. He crept round the rest of the room, pausing only to pick up and scrutinise a thick book with a symbol embossed on the leather cover. He ran a finger over it, trying to remember everything Blaise had ever told him about Ancient Runes. This meant… something bad. Theo put the book down, a shudder running through him.
Closing the door softly behind him, Theo walked over to the library. He went inside and gasped softly, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth. He felt like he shouldn’t make sounds… like he was trespassing in a dead man’s house. But this was horrible. What was going on here?
Half the books in the massive library were missing. Paper was strewn everywhere; loose pages and ripped covers. It looked like a terrible beast had gotten in and ripped everything up … Like a madman had come to fulfil a personal vendetta against… books?
Theo walked around the room slowly, stretching up to look into empty shelves. He directed his gaze back at the floor, picked up a book lying there and opened it. Filling the page was a grotesque, coloured, moving picture of what looked to be like a human getting attacked by a werewolf. Theo flipped to the front cover: “How Werewolves Come Into Being: The Guide”. He placed the book back on the shelf and straightened up.
The library was Theo’s favourite room in the house. It was his getaway, had always been his haven. When his father got too much he came to lose himself in a book. Father thought it was good, because nearly all of the books were related to the Dark Arts. He thought Theo was finally learning something useful. Theo wasn’t, but he still read them. The Guide to Werewolves had to be better than Father. So for the only place he had ever really felt remotely safe in to be… vandalised like this… That made Theo slightly angry.
Looking around, Theo considered. He just wanted to get this over with, but at the same time, something was going on. Something in this house that shouldn’t be? He decided to continue to look around and if he found whatever did this to his books, then so be it. If he didn’t… It didn’t matter.
Theo noticed that most of the top shelf books were missing, and less on the bottom shelves. The top shelves contained the rarer, more expensive - therefore more gruesome - books, and they got tamer as you went down. That was interesting…
Shaking his head, Theo turned and left the room. He visited a few more rooms, finding nothing of interest but bad memories.
He hesitated outside the door leading down to the basement. He had spent a lot of time in this room. Theo closed his eyes, trying to quash the memories flooding up inside him.
“Father, please! No! No… Don’t!” Crying, screaming, sobbing. A thump as he hits the wall, his head snapping back and connecting with the stone with a sharp crack. A harsh voice: “Crucio!” Writhing on the ground, tears streaming down his face… So much pain, so much…
Theo punched the wall next to the door, his knuckles smashing into the plaster with a crunch. He drew his fist back and punched again, and again, trying to focus on the pain rather than the memories.
The pain had lessened but he still felt like he was on fire, every inch of him. Slumped on the floor, too weak to move. “You stay down here. No food.” The slam of the door as his father left, left his son laying on the floor, in pain, so much pain. Just eight years old…
Later, Theo with his back against the wall and legs drawn up against his chest, staring blankly into the darkness. Vowing never to give his father the satisfaction of screaming and crying again. Vowing to stay strong.
Theo shuddered and gasped, trying valiantly not to cry. He leaned back against the wall and slid down, ending up in a heap on the floor. He tried to think of good things. Blaise… Blaise and Draco. Yes. He had to stay strong for them.
Theo’s breathing slowly returned to normal and he stood up shakily. He knew coming back to this place was a bad idea. There was nothing he really wanted to retrieve, but still, he was filled with a kind of morbid curiosity to see his house once more.
Theo jumped suddenly, hearing a sound emitting from behind the door. It sounded like crying, like someone was sobbing in there. He gripped his wand tighter and pushed open the door. For a moment Theo thought it was just a memory of himself down there, but then he shook his head. Couldn't be. He stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Theo couldn’t see anything but he could still hear it. “Lumos.” Theo directed the beam of light down upon the floor, resting upon a huddled, shaking mass. Theo swallowed.
“Hello?”
The shape continued to sob, not moving. Climbing down the stairs, Theo tried again, louder this time. “Hello?”
Slowly, the creature stopped shaking and peeked out from behind his rags. “Master?” he whispered, so quietly Theo almost didn’t hear it. The elf – for that was what it was, Theo realised – scrambled up. “Master has returned!” it cried, eyes shining.
Theo recognised the elf and immediately wished he hadn't. He recoiled, twisting away from the creature.
Theo on the floor, his father standing beside him. “Do it.” The house elf sobbing, apologising over and over. Theo screaming, the pain, so much pain…“Father,” Theo whimpering. “Make it stop. Please. I’m sorry!” He struggled and cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Not this, anything but this.”
“No. No, no, no.” Theo squeezed his eyes shut and put his head in his hands, shaking, reliving memories he thought lay long forgotten, pushed down inside of him.
“Please! It hurts, make it stop!” Theo screaming, thrashing on the floor, trying to push the elf away. Doing anything to make it stop. Why this? He would have preferred Crucio to this. Anything but this…
Theo put his head in his hands. He couldn’t do this; he couldn’t deal with this elf by himself. He needed someone to help him… Blaise. He’d know what to do.
Theo groped for the banister. He started to pull himself up the stairs, heading for the door. “Stay here,” he managed to croak to the elf. “Don’t move.”
His father laughing, louder and louder. “I hope you’ve learnt your lesson,” he hissed in Theo’s ear. Him pulling the elf off Theo, Theo collapsing, curling into a ball and whimpering pitifully. Covered in blood and sweat and all manner of things he didn’t want to think about. Shaking, inside and out. Cold, inside and out. Hurting, inside and out...
Theo collapsed on the floor, and everything went black.