There was a feeling deep down — Ignatius thought perhaps it was pride. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been trying to come up with some way to bond with his daughter, but making the right move had not been easy. Azkaban had been terrible training for that, in more ways than one. But any hesitations he had that these wouldn’t be spells she would want to learn went away as soon as Theodora announced her intentions.
She would need to know them if she were going to get anywhere.
“Unless you have a strong preference, I thought we might start with the Cruciatus.”
"Jumping right into it, then?" Thea pulled out her wand, doing her best to ignore the lingering apprehension. It wasn't that she thought that the Unforgivable itself was a bad thing to do, moral absolutes were not something that she cared for. But like Ignatius had stated earlier when he had offered, this wasn't a road to start down if she still had doubts.
She looked down at the glass box of spiders that sat on the desk in front of her, each innocently ignorant of the lesson ahead. She was supposed to feel bad. Intellectually, Theodora Travers knew she was meant to feel awful about knowingly torturing something for no other purpose than because she wanted to — but instead all she saw in front of her was a chance to explore a long held curiosity: how much of her father's daughter was she?
Very much his daughter, Ignatius hoped as he gestured towards the spiders. “It’s best to just jump in and see where we’re at. I don’t expect you to accomplish much at first. Not because you’re not capable, but because this is deeply difficult magic.”
With a flick of his wand, he removed one of the spiders from the box, watching as it began to scuttle its way across the table. Then there was another, more purposeful flick of his wand as he cast the spell, the spider’s sudden twitching leaving no doubt of the spell’s effectiveness. When he released it, he turned and looked at Thea. “This is not a spell that you can mean half-heartedly. Perhaps think of something — or someone — that you hate.”
"Oh, that I can do," she assured him, as she focused on the spider and conjured an image of Angelina in her mind. Already, she could feel the hatred swell in her gut; anger at how powerless Thea had felt time and time again, unable to convince most of her accusers that she was not who they said she was. "Crucio."
She waited for the spider to twitch the way it had when Ignatius had cast the curse.
Nothing.
While a part of him had hoped that perhaps she’d exceed expectations, it was no matter. Ignatius didn’t doubt that his daughter would get it in due time. “Try it again. You have to want to hurt the spider. You have to want to cause it harm.”
Thea was about to open her mouth to say that she was wanting to hurt the spider, but fell short when she looked up at her dad. She didn't want to show him her just being a brat again. Not on a matter like this.
"Crucio." She aimed her wand at the spider and held it there, trying to loosen the lid on the oft repressed anger and hate that simmered somewhere deep down inside her.
Again, the spider didn't twitch. Not even once.
Sighing, she shook her head, struggling to meet Ignatius' eyes. And then she caught herself - she was here, worried about disappointing him? When he'd been kept away from her because of his choices, not hers?
This time the anger was stronger. "Crucio," she spat out one last time.
The spider twitched.
“Excellent,” Ignatius said with a smile that was undeniably genuine. “Already that’s both improvement and something to build on. There aren’t very many people who can do even that much with this curse. Tell me, what did you think of that time? It was more powerful.”
Thea's gaze flickered up to his as she smiled, hoping he couldn't read the slight twinge of guilt in hers. "It felt good," she answered honestly. "The focusing tip helped, thanks Dad."
“You should continue to use those thoughts of the second attempt. They seemed to resonate more.” He thought about asking what thoughts she’d used, but Ignatius still could never decide how much to push with his daughter. He thought perhaps her choosing to follow in his footsteps to be enough, for now at least.