Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Theodore Nott (nottfinished) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Theo didn't keep up with Quidditch and he didn't know the players, so it was a surprise to him to learn that he was living with one. He wasn't sure if it was a sore subject for Aidan or not, although it didn't sound like it. "I don't tend to watch Quidditch." he advised. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've ever seen you play, but I'm happy you've got the chance to choose to go back."

He followed Aidan into a room that gave him pause for a moment, a brief bolt of terror that bolted his feet to the floor. For a moment he thought he was back at the Nott Estate with those same, tall windows. The ones in the living room where the giant, empty, scarred portrait hung above the forbidding fireplace, the chairs positioned in such a way that no one could walk up unseen even though the only danger to Theodore in that place had only ever been from the man who had instilled such paranoid practises in him. He didn't hear screaming from these walls though, and he doubted he'd find the end joint of his own finger under any of the chairs here.

He took a seat beside Aidan, fighting the urge to bring his legs up and curl up on the chair and not putting his fet on the sill either. This place seemed a lot more airy and light than the Nott House had done - those windows were tall and narrow like balistraria, like forbidding figures that cast light shadows across the grounds the times Theo escaped to the moors and looked back at his house which squatted like a carrion crow on a perch.

"You're house is lovely." he said sincerely.