Who: Matty Dukelow & Theo Nott When: Late Tuesday night Where: Corridors of Hogwarts What: Theo is a sonambulist Rating: PG?
Theodore wouldn't have anticipated finding himself so affected by the news that Rabastan had been re-arreted but his mind these days, while acceptable enough for the self-righteous public to deign to give him permission to be seen in their presence, was a stranger to him. He recalled being much more aware of himself, the things he was saying, certainly the way he could handle how he felt but this latest incident just went to show how much he'd lost of himself; it wasn't a pleasant feeling, especially for someone who held self-control in such high regard, even though the cause of it's necessity was rotting underground right now.
Rabastan's arrest had undone him. While the 'Theodore' part of him, the boy he could have been freely had he not been born his father's son, ached to think of the man back in a Hell he had so clearly been elated to be out of, the selfish, self-serving 'Nott' part of him, tempered by the independent opinions and beliefs he'd managed to retain, just felt abandoned. The man had single-handedly rescued him from the torment his father put him through, taken him in when no one else would have and, he could just about recall, had nursed him with a care he'd never been shown before. All this from a supposed evil Death Eater... the world made no sense to him.
He was angry all the time, worried about how the other man was coping while locked away, unimpressed at the hash up that had been made of the Ministry takeover, frustrated because half the school seemed to think it was a wonderful idea and the other half seemed to want to condemn every Slytherin without trial. He was tired.
His trip home had given him a headache that hadn't really quit and left him feeling cold no matter how many charms he used or the Ashwinder Egg he clutched. He'd felt like he'd had a collar around his neck the entire time he'd been there and he hadn't managed to sleep for the whispering that he chose to blame on the paintings despite the fact that they were locked away on another floor on a different side of the building.
He didn't want to go back to that but he didn't know if he could stay at Hogwarts much longer. He found himself considering the idea of approaching Bellatrix to join their side more and more, only to be disgusted at the idea that he would even consider that path. It was just hard not to when he was treated as though he'd thrown in his lot with them anyway, when the only person who had been decent to him was one of them too. And he didn't want to get Rabastan killed for his sake.
Sleep came to him slowly, tucked up in his own bed in his dorm room at Hogwarts, still feeling out of place in his own skin. He'd managed to drop of into a slightly restless sleep, his usual wards up against noise in case he spoke or screamed and woke everyone else up - he'd been putting these up since his first week at Hogwarts as a firstie - but all his other failsafes down. He'd been too preoccupied to put anything up to wake him if he left the bed and so 2am found him wandering out of the common room and out into the dungeons. He kept one hand on the wall as he went, following the corridors round for the most part, navigating the steps without a problem. He walked seemingly without purpose but he spoke ocassionally, sometimes in Hindi, sometimes in Icelandic, but nothing else, certainly nothing English. There were times when he'd stop and stand, sometimes cringing a little, but these pauses only lasted a minute or two before he continued on. He was searching for something; Rabastan maybe, maybe a way out from whatever memories he had in his head, maybe the path he would be able to take, or something a little further lost in his mind, a woman who smelled like parma violets.
It had been a long time since his last sleepwalking adventure, almost two years since he'd managed to get far enough to leave the common room, and he walked on vulnerable and unwitting to the danger he was putting himself in. Hopefully he'd avoid the moving staircases...