Theodore Nott (forgetme_nott) wrote in hogwarts_dawn, @ 2021-04-09 21:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: roxanne weasley, character: theodore nott |
RP: Theo/Roxanne
Who: Theodore Nott, Roxanne Weasley
When: 6pm Friday
Where: Seventh Floor, Wand making room
What: Wand testing and pickup
The past day had gone by in a tumultuous blur and Theo found himself tired and worn out. Why the castle had decided to switch everyone's memories around in some sort of petulant fit, nobody was ever likely to know why. The only thing he could say for sure was that he had a much easier time with the switch around than many others had. In the moment at least. He had glanced through his journal long enough to catch the list that was posted in the name of transparency, and rolled his eyes. At least it told him a few valuable bits of information he didn't know for sure and one bit that he needed to know. He'd have to talk to Mr Malfoy soon, but that could wait for now. Time gave new insight and he'd wait until he was more able to process how he felt about that.
He had told Roxanne he would come by and although it did occur to him to write and say he was on his way, he knew she'd be in the wand room. He had her memories for a week and her habits and routines came with that. So did a lot of other things. He'd felt more the past week than he had felt about anything ever in a long time. Not melodrama and not childish exuberance but just more, he thought as he made his way up the flights of stairs. And when he woke up that morning and it all started to wash away it had rattled him more than he cared to admit. Theo was not ruled by his emotions and he didn't acknowledge them. He had them pushed down and neatly tucked them all away. He rarely felt them and he rarely thought about it, or anything that brought them close to the surface.
The shift back to himself had been a dreadful time and he felt relief in the fact that it seemed over. Between the cold sweats and this tightness in his chest he couldn't explain and the shortness of breath, He had spent most of his night awake. Most of the time he was curled up in his sitting chair with his knees pulled to his chest, and his head rested on his knees. So he slept the day away, he didn't bother to even try to get up to go to work, or to see what if anything was going on. He didn't care and he just wanted to rest. If someone wanted to complain they could dock his imaginary salary or turn him away with no dinner in the hall, he thought with a huff.
One thing he knew for sure once he got himself sorted and ready to head out of his door was that he wanted his wand. Perhaps even more so to talk to the person whose memories had allowed him to accelerate the process. He walked a bit more briskly than was his usual stride, wanting to avoid anyone he might bump into on the seventh floor as he headed to the wand workshop. When he got to the door he reached for he handle, about to open the door and just breeze on in when he stopped. Instead he paused for a moment and knocked on the door. This wasn't his workplace after all, even if it still felt like it.