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Theodore Nott (nottfinished) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Theo nodded, hoping that he'd get some time to read as well although that tended to leave his mind with more time to wander. He wasn't expecting the interest in his drawing though and was quick to clarify what he'd meant. "Oh, no, I'm no artist, not by a long shot." he said earnestly, hoping Ernie took him at face value and not as false modesty. "They're little more than scribbles, they're, they're terrible." he said honestly, thinking back to them, a book stuffed with charcoal scruff, graphite shadows and sometimes felt tip swathes, usually in black. "It, it's more of a therapy thing." he ended, but even then - maybe one day he would show Ernie.

He'd been interested in Ernie's take on the book, and liked what Ernie said about good and evil and people being people, something that had plagued him when he'd been younger and trapped between Slytherin and Pureblood.

For his part, Theo had been interested in the Gothic themes, the casual cruelty that had spoken things to him that he hadn't been able to really hear. He'd seen something in the rituals that Frank created and the death's of the wasps and the actions of someone else isolated in a place by themselves, like he was seeing a what-could-have-been, Frank a character he could empathise with in some strange way that might have scared him. The revelation at the end of the book had been satisfyingly unexpected but he'd never really concentrated on the father in the book, his mind skimming neatly over mention of him almost without his realising it. Ernie had zeroed in on that specific point and Theo heard white noise for a second, flinching.

"Hm, no. Well. Some people create objects just to assert their will over them." he said quietly and then changed the subject. "Do you draw? Or paint or anything? Musical instruments?"