nott_alone (nott_alone) wrote in eminor_macula, @ 2008-05-17 14:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | theodore nott |
Narrative
Who: Theodore Nott
When: May 13-16, 2008
Where: The Nott Estates
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Summary: Various scenes from the past week of distruction and mayhem, aka; The Remodel of the House in Four Vignettes
His home was now something from a muggle horror film, complete with cobwebs and creaky floorboards. Apparently large houses fall into disrepair rather quickly when there are no house elves to tend them. An unfortunate truth that Theo would have to face now.
As he climbed staircase after staircase he could almost hear the echoes of his youth, a young child laughing, a quiet boy talking softly to himself as he imagined scenes of bravery and heroics, a teenager perched in some corner with a book and the sound of pages turning and silence, footsteps as he left the house with chiming voices of only house elves bidding him farewell.
Higher he climbed, into the tower that he was never supposed to enter as a child. Pulling a key from his pocket, one he had fetched from the same place his father had hid it for as long as it had existed, he opened a door and slipped inside. The room looked the same as it had the day he had first snuck into it, despite his father's ban, what seemed like ages ago. Sunlight filtering in from a high window, half boarded, caught motes of dust and turned them into something much more beautiful.
From a portrait a woman with brown hair so light it seemed blond, glanced up from a book in her lap. She smiled and Theo brushed the canvas with his fingertips.
"Hello mother."
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Theo cursed as the shaking in his hands foiled his attempts once again. He'd been trying to pry the damn thing open for more than an hour now and was beyond frustrated. Glaring at the source of such frustration, a sealed panel beneath the table, he slipped out from under the gaudy thing, avoiding hitting his head due to experience rather than cautiousness.
Grabbing his wand from top of the table he flopped into the worn office chair with a sigh. He should've expected something like this from his father. The older that Theo had aged, the more paranoid Thaddeus had been. Switching passwords to rooms that had nothing of worth in them, questioning Theo to make sure he wasn't under any spells. He certainly wasn't surprised at the fight the table was putting up.
Theodore glanced up at the timid knock at the door, "Come in."
A house elf slipped in, the only one in the entire house for that day, the rest were off doing various errands. She smiled and shuffled forward with a gleaming tray. "Lemonade for the Master?" Theodore nodded absently, still considering the table. Levitating the tray the ancient elf poured the cool drink with a shaking hand, "Nibsy remembers the master doesn't like it too sweet, she remembers. Ever since you were a wee little boy. Yes, so picky the Master was."
Theodore glanced at her now, considering her with a touch of interest, "Yes, I suppose I was." She offered the cup that smelled of fresh squeezed lemons. Theodore frowned looking at the tray, "What's this then?" She beamed, "Some cookies, Nibsy thought the Master might enjoy them." Theo stared at the cookies for a long moment, then turned away looking at the table, "No thank you Nibsy, I'm not really in the mood for cookies."
The elf looked distraught, but Theo absently added a "Thanks anyhow Nibsy, maybe you could send the cookies to that family who lives over closer to Brighton. They've got children I think." She was beaming once more and with a few enthusiastic nods slipped away as quietly as she'd come.
Holding the cold cup between two hands Theo stared at the desk. It was like a riddle, a Gordian Knot if you will. Then Theodore grinned, a Gordian Knot for a Nott. He raised his wand and uttered "Diffindo," quietly. With a satisfying crack the table split and crashed to the ground. Theodore smiled as released papers drifted about the room like some odd parody of snow and a few items scattered to the floor.
If there was one thing that Theodore was good at, it was riddles. He sipped the lemonade, surprised, as he always was, at just how well Nibsy had remembered his tastes, especially as his father had rarely even remembered his birthday.
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Theo grunted as he shifted a table into the center of a room manually. He had forgotten his wand in the last room and didn't really mind some physical activity. He glanced around the room with a grin, it was all clean and ready for it's purpose. Theo had made himself a workshop.
Whistling an old nursery tune he grabbed a bag from the doorway. This, he had remembered. He settled the bag on the table and slowly pulled out the contents. One old revolver, a Colt to be precise, a couple of pistols, semi-automatic and machine, and one sawed-off double barreled shotgun. Not to mention the assortment of gun parts and various ammo. He glanced over the array with a self-pleased smile.
Theodore was determined to master the muggle gun, he was sure that it would prove invaluable to any magical task force once he could get the magical bullets to function properly. He leaned against the table sighing, he wanted to just sit and fiddle with them, but there was more cleaning to be done.
Guns were his new charms. The latest in a long line of obsessions. He was just one of those people, who latched onto a concept and stuck with it till they had found every last thing of interest. It was all about the chase, the hunt for knowledge.
Unable to resist he picked up the colt and spun it around in one hand, it slipped off of his fingers and clattered to the floor firing off with a bang. Theo jumped about a foot in the air as the gun sounded off, shattering a window. He groaned, rubbing his face, great, something else to fix.
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He wrinkled his nose against the stinging smell of the scouring potion, but reached out and poured it into the bucket of water nonetheless. Stepping back he flicked his wand, the mop hopped to attention and jumped into the bucket. Wringing out it started to work on the floor. The scouring potion removed the dirt and other various stains from the wood panelling with ease and Theo smiled and sat on the grand staircase reaching for a book that he had brought.
It was a large muggle book that Simon had got him last Christmas, complete with diagrams and explanations of various guns. On the step above him sat another book, one that had just arrived from France, something on charms. Theo had set it aside in favor of what had become, an old favorite.
He hardly noticed the mop's progress across the floor and up the walls, peeling paint. In fact the mop had traversed the whole of one wall and half another before he took his nose out of the book.
It took several hours for him to find a spell to repaint the walls. In the end the color was a little off fromt he original and he had to paint all the walls. After all this work the house elves insisted on draping black fabric about the room for the funeral.