Chapter Twelve of 'Imago'- Consequences in Progress

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Chapter Twelve—Consequences In Progress

Theo is entertained to notice the resigned look on Weasley’s face when Harry gets up and comes over to the Slytherin table the next morning. He offers Harry a piece of thickly-buttered toast and asks, “Is Weasley being better about the whole dating a Slytherin thing?”

“Yeah, since you were in the lake,” Harry says, and devours the bread with a fervor that makes the other Slytherins stare at him in horror. Theo looks around, and they find better things to stare at. “I think he’s finally had to accept that we just won’t go back to the way we were. He complains sometimes about specific things, like Crabbe tripping him in the corridor the other day, but that’s different from ranting about slimy snakes. And when he did that the last time, I just got up and walked away.”

Theo nods, pleased. He’s just as happy that things have worked out so Harry can have both his friends and Theo, but Theo never needs to interact with them.

A movement at the Ravenclaw table catches his eye, and he turns his head, smiling. “Here we go, Harry,” he says softly.

Harry looks up with eager eyes as Corner makes a loud remark about “Loony Lovegood” and the food floats off Luna’s fork.

The food promptly jumps off the forks of the nearest two Ravenclaws and slams into their faces. And Corner says in a loud voice that carries even over the gasps, laughter, and shrieks at the table, “I’m an idiot.”

Theo smiles. Harry is bent over laughing into his sleeve. Luna is staring at Corner with wide eyes.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” Corner declares then.

“Who threw that food?” Lisa Turpin, who seems to have been splashed by the backwash of a bowl of porridge, is wiping it off her face and glancing around furiously. She then decides it must be Luna, based on nothing but her own idiocy, Theo thinks. “Loony, if you did that, that I swear—”

Her voice cuts off, and for a second her hand reaches up to clasp her throat. Then she stands up and declares, “I still sleep with the teddy that my mummy bought me when I was three, and I’m afraid of the dark.”

There’s a series of louder gasps this time. Theo thinks he knows why. Turpin is popular even among the Slytherins, and she gets away with a lot because she manages to smile and act as though she knows secrets that you don’t know. And now she’s just revealed one of those secrets to the inhabitants of the entire Great Hall.

Turpin’s face goes a deep purple color, and she starts to cry. Then she turns and stumbles out of the Great Hall.

The laughter and speculation are building up to a thunderous noise when Dumbledore stands up and fires off a gleaming spell from his wand. It rocks the Great Hall with the noise if makes, and Dumbledore frowns around at everyone else. Silence falls. Theo smirks into his cup of pumpkin juice, and feels Harry lean against his side for a second. He glances at him. Harry’s eyes are sparkling.

If he disapproved of me casting the threefold consequences spell, he doesn’t now.

“The behavior at the Ravenclaw table this morning is obviously the result of a curse,” Dumbledore says quietly. He’s staring hard at the Slytherin table, but the seventh-year Slytherins, Theo is delighted to see. Of course, if Dumbledore knows that it’s the result of a Contingency Curse, he probably assumes no one under that age has the power to cast them. “It would be better for the one who did this to remove the curse at once and apologize. The punishment will not be as severe if you do.”

“Headmaster.”

To Theo’s utter surprise, it’s Luna who’s speaking up. He tenses. If she reveals them after all they’ve done for her—

But Dumbledore is already turning to face Luna, and there’s no way to tell her that. “Yes, Miss Lovegood?”

“The people who acted like that or got food in their faces were all laughing at me and trying to take my food away,” Luna says calmly. “What’s their punishment for bullying? Will they have to serve as many detentions as the person who cursed them?”

She’s looking at Dumbledore with an extraordinarily clear and straightforward gaze, but she seems mildly interested, at most. Theo stares at her. There’s more courage there than he knew, and more cleverness.

Dumbledore frowns. “Mild pranking and laughing at another student are not punishable offenses in the same way, Miss Lovegood.”

“Oh.” Luna stares at the table.

There’s another murmur this time, and Theo is vastly entertained to see how red Granger’s face is, and how fast she’s speaking to Weasley and Longbottom. Dumbledore, meanwhile, glances around at the seventh-years at all the tables now, including the Ravenclaws, as if he assumes that the House that bullied Luna the most also harbors the people who want to protect her.

Theo idly wonders why Dumbledore doesn’t seem to suspect him and Harry at all. Is it only the age thing? Or is it partially the fact that he assumes Harry is too self-righteous to cast those curses, and Theo would never defend a student in another House?

Maybe a combination of all of them.

Dumbledore sighs heavily when no one makes a move to condemn themselves. “Very well. Please remember that you may come to me at any time if you have a concern about your fellow students or something to report.” He sits back down and bends another heavy look on the seventh-years.

Theo abruptly smiles. Harry glances at him and raises an eyebrow. “I’ve learned not to trust that smile,” he murmurs.

Theo takes his hand and squeezes it. He’s come up with a plan to take advantage of what Dumbledore said and somewhat punish him for refusing Theo sanctuary unless he became a spy, but he’ll have to wait to tell Harry about it until they’re out of the Great Hall.

*

“Harry, my boy, I need to discuss something with you.” To Theo’s delight, Dumbledore is speaking between gritted teeth.

They turn around and smile at him. Well, Harry smiles. Theo’s not sure what Dumbledore would call the expression on his face. After one look at Theo, however, Dumbledore focuses on Harry and asks, “Why are you sending Hedwig to me every day with a list of minor complaints?”

“I don’t think they’re minor, sir,” Harry says, and there’s a quiet dignity about him that makes Theo’s breath catch. “Luna being bullied, a fourth-year Gryffindor struggling in Potions and finding Professor Snape profoundly unhelpful, Snape in general, Moody promising us that we’ll die from Dark curses unless we listen to him—that’s harmful. Those affect students’ health and well-being just as much as magical accidents could.”

“Do you have information about Luna Lovegood’s bullies being cursed?”

Theo wishes he could make some signal to Harry not to look into Dumbledore’s eyes, but Harry just snorts. “I told you that I did, sir. I sent you that detailed list of explanations about what happened to her, including thefts of her things. Her own House! Even when everyone hated me because of losing Gryffindor fifty points or because they thought I was the Heir of Slytherin or I cheated to get into the Tournament, they didn’t do that to me.”

“It’s for Professor Flitwick to handle, Harry. Not for students to take into their hands.”

“Luna did try going to see him, sir. And she had five or six other students speaking against her and being each other’s alibis. He hasn’t done anything about it. Why should she have to suffer?”

Dumbledore looks very old. Theo idly wonders if he’s regretting mistakes in the past, or if he really thinks that nothing that happens to Luna matters, because it’s not like she’s being hunted by the Dark Lord.

There’s been lots of complaining in Slytherin about how much Dumbledore favors the Gryffindors, but except for when Dumbledore took the House Cup away from Slytherin in first year, Theo’s come to realize Dumbledore doesn’t do a lot of favoring of the whole House. Instead, he picks a few people and concentrates on them. Harry is one. Harry is one of the whole reasons the House Cup got taken away from Slytherin in the first place, in fact.

And when Harry stands up to Dumbledore and challenges him on things he’s done wrong or ignored, it has a lot more impact than it would if a random Slytherin or Ravenclaw, or even a Gryffindor, was doing it.

Theo can imagine that some people might have started resenting Harry once they figured out how he’s favored. But not Theo. Because he knows that Dumbledore’s doing it partially so that he can make Harry into a fucking soldier.

“Harry, my boy, I never imagined you felt this way.”

“You didn’t think I would get indignant about my fellow students being bullied?”

Dumbledore clears his throat. “Well, Harry, pardon me for saying so, but you never did before this, until certain…influences…came into your life.” He glances at Theo.

Theo just raises his eyebrows and looks firmly at the purple buttons of Dumbledore’s robes.

“That’s because I was oblivious before,” Harry says, his voice cool. “I shut myself away with Ron and Hermione. They were my whole world. They’re still my friends, but I’ve grown beyond just thinking of nothing else but my friendships. I can think of other people, too.” He pauses. “I thought you’d be pleased at that, sir. That I’m becoming more mature.”

Theo hides his cough, but badly. Dumbledore doesn’t quite glare at him, but his disapproval fills the air with a certain chill. Theo ignores it.

Dumbledore shakes his head. “You’re right, my boy, and I apologize. As you are now more mature, you are ready to hear some of the secrets that I felt it right to keep from you in first year. I need to speak with you alone.”

“I don’t see why Theo can’t come with me.”

“Because I do not trust him,” Dumbledore says, with a firmness and honesty—well, at least it sounds like honesty—that Theo didn’t expect from him. “And I will not speak to you of these secrets with him there.”

Harry sighs and turns to look at Theo, indecision an agony in his eyes. “Do you mind being left out, Theo?”

“I mind because I think that he might hurt you,” Theo says, and ignores the expression of hilarious outrage on Dumbledore’s face. “But no, I don’t think it’s a huge problem.” They both know that Harry will tell him anything important, so all Dumbledore’s secrecy does is delay Theo hearing about it for an hour or so.

Harry flashes him a look of relief and turns to Dumbledore. “All right, sir,” he says. “But just for the record, I think this is an incredibly silly position to take, distrusting Theo just because he’s a Slytherin.”

“My dear boy, it’s not about that…”

Theo watches them go, and shakes his head. Dumbledore could do so many things to earn Harry’s trust back, including showing that he’s able to get past shallow, silly stereotypes of Houses or judging children based on their parents. But he won’t do it. He really does prize keeping secrets over keeping Harry on his side, even if he also favors Harry obscenely.

“Mr. Nott.”

Theo doesn’t let his sudden tension show on his face as he turns around, arching an eyebrow. “Professor Moody?”

“Good, you’re not with Potter,” Moody says, his magical eye and his normal eye for once fixed on the same target—Theo, in this case. “I need to clarify some things with you. Things Potter needs to hear, but he’s been avoiding me.”

Harry’s been avoiding Moody partially on Theo’s advice, but also because he confessed to Theo that the professor’s attempts to speak to him privately, only to drop cryptic hints, made him uncomfortable. He said one Dumbledore was bad enough. This, though…well, Theo is more prepared to both counter any curses Moody throws at him and to sort through the hints that the man might drop.

Theo gives the thin, bland smile that he uses most often when dealing with professors. “Lead the way, sir.”

*

Moody makes several references to “your father, the Death Eater” as he rattles around his office, preparing tea. He seems to be under the impression that Theo is foolish enough to drink the stuff. Theo doesn’t correct him. He just lounges in a chair and nods and says “Hmmm” a lot.

Moody finally sets a cup of tea in front of him, one that smells as though someone’s urinated in it. “Drink up, boy, drink up,” he says, waving a hand, and seizes a cup of tea himself, turning his back for a moment to drop something from his flask into it.

Theo slides his wand to the edge of its holster and flicks it to Vanish his own tea. Then he picks up the cup and does a convincing sipping motion from it as Moody turns around. He knows all about these tricks from dear Father, and neither Veritaserum nor poison are going to take him by surprise.

Moody shows neither surprise nor satisfaction. He just sits down behind his desk, points with one finger at Theo (who does tense despite himself), and says, “You, boy, are a bad influence on Harry Potter.”

“Hmmm,” Theo says.

“I’ve heard all about you from Albus and Minerva.” Moody’s magical eye is zooming around the office again, seemingly full of nervous energy and peering at everything from the shadows in the corners to the Foe-Glass on the wall. “The quiet, sneaky type. You don’t wear your beliefs on your sleeve like Malfoy. That means you could be pretending you don’t believe in blood purity, trying to make it seem as if you’re sympathetic to Potter’s beliefs.”

“Hmmm,” Theo says.

“You know you won’t be allowed to get away with it.” And now both of Moody’s eyes are focused on Theo again, and he’s leaning slightly forwards. Theo wonders if the tea was dosed with a Malleability Potion instead of Veritaserum or poison, the way Moody is reacting. “Corrupting the Chosen One. You’ve picked a stupid target, Nott.” His voice deepens to a rumbling growl. “If you’d been a bit more subtle, gone for friendship instead of dating, you might have got away with it, but you didn’t. And there’s no way that your father will let you date Harry Potter for real.”

Theo could say that he’s fooling his father the same way that he’s fooling Dumbledore and the rest of them, because no one but Harry and Blaise really knows who Theo is, and they see what they want to see instead of the reality. But he sees no need to justify himself to Moody. “Mmmm,” he says.

“Are you listening to me, boy?”

Moody looms over him and tries to intimidate him with height, but Theo just stares at him and says nothing. Moody probably can’t be fooled with lies the way Dumbledore or his father might. He’ll distrust everything Theo says just because of his last name. So Theo chooses silence as his best defense.

Moody finally turns away with a disgusted huff and waves his wand at the door. “Fine. Go away, boy, and remember that you’ll always have someone watching you.” He uncorks his flask to pour some more of whatever drink is in there into his own tea. His magical eye is still firmly fixed on Theo.

“What is it, boy? Think of something you’d like to tell me?”

Theo curses himself internally for letting his eyes widen, but he couldn’t prevent it, not when he recognizes the smell bubbling up from the flask. Polyjuice Potion.

This man is not Alastor Moody.

But there’s no way that Theo can give away that he knows, so he just shakes his head and murmurs, “Thank you for your time and devotion to the cause of protecting Harry, Professor Moody.”

“Moody” chuckles darkly. “Stop looking like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth and get out of here, boy.”

Theo jerks his head down and does that, pretending to be intimidated, pretending that his heart isn’t beating so fast that he feels as though someone is jerking a string in the center of his chest. He manages to get back to the dungeons and stand there with his eyes closed before he allows himself to seriously consider what he now knows.

Moody is an imposter. He is almost certainly the one who put Harry’s name in the Goblet. He has no affection at all for Theo, or Draco, or anyone else who has Death Eater connections, but his interest in Harry can’t be protective or neutral, either.

Theo doesn’t have a name, not yet. But he thinks he has an allegiance.

*

Theo waits for Harry in their sea-themed decorated classroom. He thinks that he’ll have the most important thing to tell Harry, but then the door opens and Harry stumbles in, his eyes so wide they seem to encompass the entire world, his hands groping and fluttering in front of him, and Theo knows he doesn’t.

Theo crosses the floor between them in a few strides and catches Harry close, whispering into his ear. Harry leans against him, trembling.

“What is it?” Theo asks. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me—” Harry chokes. “Theo, he said there’s a prophecy—I’m the only one who can defeat Voldemort, I have to do it or die trying—”

And Harry is crying, and Theo holds him close, sheltering him, while new plans spin to life in his head like falling puzzle pieces to be put into a new order.

Well, Theo thinks, and ruthless, cold determination fills him, hard as his arms around Harry’s shoulders.

We’ll just have to do something about this.