|Theodore Nott (booksmart_devil) wrote in wished,|
@ 2010-03-22 00:45:00
|Entry tags:||!1998: 03, !incomplete, draco malfoy, theodore nott|
Who: Draco & Theo
What: The time has come to talk of other things - like thestrals
Where: Dorm rooms
When: Late evening
Writing that letter to the Ministry had sent Theo into some kind of depressed cloud, although it was difficult to tell against his usual mannerisms. No one really looked hard enough to be able to decipher his mood anyway. Well, Greg may have done but Theo hadn't seen him around at all lately.
He felt like he'd sold out and even reminding himself that he'd only used flattery and claimed support in order to manipulate them into checkmate didn't ease the dirty feeling inside. He didn't even know if his efforts would be fruitful yet either - at the time he'd worked himself up into what he privately called his 'Future Lord of Nott Estate' head, faked himself out with the weight of his heritage behind him, the links his father had to the Dark Lord, and this had all made him feel, made him believe as though they'd have no choice but to heed his words and return the thestrals.
It was only after he'd sent the thing that he thought back on it, let go of that mindset and was hit by the backlash, the teenage angsting hangover. He was nothing but a kid, some snot-nosed student at a school the Ministry clearly had a grudge against and what's more, what if they could tell he was lying from the letter? His paranoia heightened and he imagined that Ministry officials (or unofficials) were around each corner and behind every creak.
Theo had taken hyper-awareness to PTSD levels (and wasn't that a telling comment) so that even when he was lying on his bed - head to the door of course - he was still aware of every footstep outside. He looked tired, though he didn't really know it. He still wasn't sleeping properly and things were starting to tell on him a little.