Theodore. (![]() ![]() @ 2010-04-13 10:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | blaise zabini, theodore nott |
Who: Theodore and Blaise.
What: A few rare moments alone.
When: Monday evening.
Where: Their room.
Why: Teddy Bear needs snuggles.
Warnings: TBA.
When Theodore got to the room he shared with Blaise and Draco (he still didn't think of it as his room, since that wasn't technically accurate), it was empty. He glanced at the clock; he supposed his roommates could be at dinner still, or doing... whatever it was they did on Monday nights. He hadn't learned their schedules yet, he'd been too busy trying to keep up with his own. Tonight, though, he was glad that he had gotten to the room ahead of them, even if only for a few moments. Not that he was dreading their company; actually, after a few moments to himself, he would be looking forward to it.
He headed straight for his bed, stopping only to remove his shoes, and lay down on his back. The hangings he left open, not intending to shut himself off from his roommates, whenever they arrived. But while he was alone, he let himself get lost in his thoughts, staring up at the hangings that covered his bed.
The logistics of his father being dead were rather simple, Theodore doubted he would even need to break his routine to ensure that they were properly done. They'd been arranged for years, ever since his mother's death; his father wanted to be interred beside her. Everything he owned would go to Theodore, as the only living heir. What was harder to figure out was what Theodore would do to honor him. Keep up his family's good name, he supposed, but what more could he do than what he was doing right now? He was not taking up his father's mantle, in terms of career choice; violent people met violent ends, and Theodore wanted none of that. Moreover, he didn't agree with his father's politics.
He sighed and picked up his journal, considering writing some of his thoughts down. But he only set it down again, and picked up the letter instead, the one that contained news of his father's demise. He didn't read it, but turned it around absentmindedly in his fingers, careful not to cut himself on the parchment.