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lomonaaerenTitle: Used to the Silence
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo
Content Notes: AU (Slytherin Harry), angst, bullying, violence, past character death, magically powerful Harry, Dark Theo
Rating: R
Summary: After being Sorted into Slytherin, Harry had to deal with shunning from his Housemates, disappointed looks from professors, and avoidance from other Houses. He’s used to being alone, and is mainly studying hard for his NEWTS so that he can find a job in some country other than Britain. Theo Nott changes that in seventh year.
Author’s Notes: This is a very self-indulgent story that’s not part of any series, does not delve into all the background of the AU, and does not represent every character’s perspective on Slytherin Harry, which means he may very well be wrong about some of them. I am basically only writing what I want to write. It will also have short irregular chapters. Be warned of that.
Used to the Silence
Chapter One—Wandless Magic
Harry sighed as he squinted at the Charms book in front of him. Once again, it was referencing a theory he’d never heard of. This was his seventh year at Hogwarts and he’d spent the last two in intense study. Why hadn’t he heard of it?
Harry waved his hand and floated another book up from the end of the table. This was a Charms tome so huge that Harry only opened it when he had a question like this one. The print was too small and the book too unwieldy to make it the only one he read.
A choking sound came from behind him. Harry whirled around, seething internally. He’d found the most obscure corner he could and made sure he wasn’t intruding on anyone’s study groups and set up wards that should have warned him if someone came near.
He understood the last problem when he saw Nott standing just outside the wards. He was staring at Harry with a stunned look on his face, as if magic had hit him over the head. Harry stared back and said nothing. Nott wasn’t the worst of the bullies among his roommates, but he’d still sneered at Harry about his blood status, claimed loudly that Harry must have tricked the Hat to be placed in Slytherin, and pranked his trunk until Harry had set up wards that opened gashes in people’s hands when they did that.
His eyes darted back and forth from Harry to the Charms tome now. Harry waited impatiently. He wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. He went days without speaking to people, unless a professor called on him in class. It wasn’t unusual for a Slytherin outcast with no friends who people talked about rather than to.
“What the hell, Potter?” Nott asked.
Harry said nothing.
“What was that?”
“What do you mean, Nott?” Harry didn’t really want to talk to his Housemate, but this seemed to be the only way that would clarify what Nott meant and get him out of here.
“You—you used wandless magic.”
Harry blinked. That was what Nott was on about? Wandless magic was common. Malfoy and Zabini in particular bragged nonstop about being able to do it, and the older Slytherins in Harry’s earlier years were always talking about times that they had Summoned a Snitch at the last minute or warmed themselves up in the cold or repaired a broken quill just in time for an exam.
And everyone used it as children.
“So?”
“So?”
God, Nott was an idiot. “Spit it out, Nott.”
“You Summoned that book!”
“Yes, just like other people Summon Snitches and biscuits and the like,” Harry drawled, and turned towards the table again. Nott obviously had nothing useful to say.
Nott must have taken a step closer, because Harry’s wards twanged suddenly in his mind and Nott burst into curses. Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small smile and saw the way that Nott was holding up his hands, staring in disbelief at the frostbite on his fingers.
He met Harry’s eyes with an expression less blank than usual.
“Go the fuck away,” Harry said softly.
Nott retreated. Harry shook his head. He’d probably report this to Snape and Snape would have Harry in detention for “hurting a fellow student,” but it wasn’t like Harry was ever out of detention with the bastard anyway. Snape gave him detention for being in the common room when someone else got hexed, for slouching at dinner, for “breathing too loudly” if Snape walked past the Slytherin table, and for not being in the Potions NEWT class (as if Harry could when he had an E instead of an O).
God, I’ll be so glad to get out of Hogwarts.
*
Theo stepped several corridors away from the library to stare at his hands. He’d of course cast Warming Charms on them right away, but the frostbitten feeling still lingered.
Theo knew the Chill Ward. It was meant to give the person who touched it a quick zap of cold that would make them back off. It wasn’t meant to cause this.
He flexed his fingers and tucked his wand back into his pocket, then turned, aiming for a section of the dungeons not far from the common room that he’d made his own. His own wards surged over him in a welcoming tide, and Theo relaxed as he stepped into the furnished classroom with a roaring fireplace that he’d hooked up to the Floo network with house-elf help.
He sat down on the couch in front of the fire and held out his hands, mind still occupied with Potter.
Theo had never thought much about Potter. Sure, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but he was also a halfblood in Slytherin, and not particularly strong or ambitious or clever. He received less than no notice now from most of the school, except Draco, who liked to stir up people about Potter’s blood status on an idle day, and Professor Snape, who hated him for reasons Theo had never understood.
In first year, people had still expected something of Potter, and had watched him eagerly in the corridors and classes, whispering about his defeat of the Dark Lord. But nothing unusual or intriguing had ever happened. Potter mastered spells slowly, he didn’t volunteer answers, he messed up his potions on a regular basis, and he didn’t go around being the epitome of kindness and goodness that other people were obviously waiting for him to be. He wasn’t even part of the group of students who had tried and failed to prevent the theft of the Philosopher’s Stone at the end of that year. So the attention had ebbed.
Sure, when Potter had accidentally revealed he was a Parselmouth in dueling club in second year, some people had been shocked and appalled (Draco had ranted for days about how a Mudblood’s son didn’t deserve Slytherin’s gift). But that shock had rather waned in the face of the continuing Petrification attacks. The attacks had stopped as suddenly as they had begun after the apparent death of the Weasley girl in the Chamber of Secrets, with no one ever caught as far as Theo knew.
And since then, there had been silence from the Dark Lord, silence from Potter, and silence from those who had once waited for Potter to save them.
Potter had used controlled, casual wandless magic today, and then spoken of it as it were nothing. Theo snorted. Obviously he’d been fooled by Draco and Blaise’s bragging into thinking that such wandless power really was casual, and he’d probably fallen for some plain lies from other people and mixed up a child’s accidental magic with the wandless kind.
Draco and Blaise bragged so much because they could create tiny wandless Lumos Charms the size of their little fingers. They might be able to do something more impressive later on. Might. Theo didn’t personally think so. Neither Draco nor Blaise had the self-control.
But then again, he hadn’t thought Potter had, either.
When Theo glanced down, glinting ice crystals had crept back across the flesh of his right hand. He scowled and cast another Warming Charm, then stood to fetch a Pepper-Up Potion from his private stores.
He was going to keep an eye on Potter. Someone that powerful who didn’t even know it, someone ignored by everyone so that no one else had known about his power either…
That kind of person could be an asset for the Nott family.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo
Content Notes: AU (Slytherin Harry), angst, bullying, violence, past character death, magically powerful Harry, Dark Theo
Rating: R
Summary: After being Sorted into Slytherin, Harry had to deal with shunning from his Housemates, disappointed looks from professors, and avoidance from other Houses. He’s used to being alone, and is mainly studying hard for his NEWTS so that he can find a job in some country other than Britain. Theo Nott changes that in seventh year.
Author’s Notes: This is a very self-indulgent story that’s not part of any series, does not delve into all the background of the AU, and does not represent every character’s perspective on Slytherin Harry, which means he may very well be wrong about some of them. I am basically only writing what I want to write. It will also have short irregular chapters. Be warned of that.
Used to the Silence
Chapter One—Wandless Magic
Harry sighed as he squinted at the Charms book in front of him. Once again, it was referencing a theory he’d never heard of. This was his seventh year at Hogwarts and he’d spent the last two in intense study. Why hadn’t he heard of it?
Harry waved his hand and floated another book up from the end of the table. This was a Charms tome so huge that Harry only opened it when he had a question like this one. The print was too small and the book too unwieldy to make it the only one he read.
A choking sound came from behind him. Harry whirled around, seething internally. He’d found the most obscure corner he could and made sure he wasn’t intruding on anyone’s study groups and set up wards that should have warned him if someone came near.
He understood the last problem when he saw Nott standing just outside the wards. He was staring at Harry with a stunned look on his face, as if magic had hit him over the head. Harry stared back and said nothing. Nott wasn’t the worst of the bullies among his roommates, but he’d still sneered at Harry about his blood status, claimed loudly that Harry must have tricked the Hat to be placed in Slytherin, and pranked his trunk until Harry had set up wards that opened gashes in people’s hands when they did that.
His eyes darted back and forth from Harry to the Charms tome now. Harry waited impatiently. He wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. He went days without speaking to people, unless a professor called on him in class. It wasn’t unusual for a Slytherin outcast with no friends who people talked about rather than to.
“What the hell, Potter?” Nott asked.
Harry said nothing.
“What was that?”
“What do you mean, Nott?” Harry didn’t really want to talk to his Housemate, but this seemed to be the only way that would clarify what Nott meant and get him out of here.
“You—you used wandless magic.”
Harry blinked. That was what Nott was on about? Wandless magic was common. Malfoy and Zabini in particular bragged nonstop about being able to do it, and the older Slytherins in Harry’s earlier years were always talking about times that they had Summoned a Snitch at the last minute or warmed themselves up in the cold or repaired a broken quill just in time for an exam.
And everyone used it as children.
“So?”
“So?”
God, Nott was an idiot. “Spit it out, Nott.”
“You Summoned that book!”
“Yes, just like other people Summon Snitches and biscuits and the like,” Harry drawled, and turned towards the table again. Nott obviously had nothing useful to say.
Nott must have taken a step closer, because Harry’s wards twanged suddenly in his mind and Nott burst into curses. Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small smile and saw the way that Nott was holding up his hands, staring in disbelief at the frostbite on his fingers.
He met Harry’s eyes with an expression less blank than usual.
“Go the fuck away,” Harry said softly.
Nott retreated. Harry shook his head. He’d probably report this to Snape and Snape would have Harry in detention for “hurting a fellow student,” but it wasn’t like Harry was ever out of detention with the bastard anyway. Snape gave him detention for being in the common room when someone else got hexed, for slouching at dinner, for “breathing too loudly” if Snape walked past the Slytherin table, and for not being in the Potions NEWT class (as if Harry could when he had an E instead of an O).
God, I’ll be so glad to get out of Hogwarts.
*
Theo stepped several corridors away from the library to stare at his hands. He’d of course cast Warming Charms on them right away, but the frostbitten feeling still lingered.
Theo knew the Chill Ward. It was meant to give the person who touched it a quick zap of cold that would make them back off. It wasn’t meant to cause this.
He flexed his fingers and tucked his wand back into his pocket, then turned, aiming for a section of the dungeons not far from the common room that he’d made his own. His own wards surged over him in a welcoming tide, and Theo relaxed as he stepped into the furnished classroom with a roaring fireplace that he’d hooked up to the Floo network with house-elf help.
He sat down on the couch in front of the fire and held out his hands, mind still occupied with Potter.
Theo had never thought much about Potter. Sure, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but he was also a halfblood in Slytherin, and not particularly strong or ambitious or clever. He received less than no notice now from most of the school, except Draco, who liked to stir up people about Potter’s blood status on an idle day, and Professor Snape, who hated him for reasons Theo had never understood.
In first year, people had still expected something of Potter, and had watched him eagerly in the corridors and classes, whispering about his defeat of the Dark Lord. But nothing unusual or intriguing had ever happened. Potter mastered spells slowly, he didn’t volunteer answers, he messed up his potions on a regular basis, and he didn’t go around being the epitome of kindness and goodness that other people were obviously waiting for him to be. He wasn’t even part of the group of students who had tried and failed to prevent the theft of the Philosopher’s Stone at the end of that year. So the attention had ebbed.
Sure, when Potter had accidentally revealed he was a Parselmouth in dueling club in second year, some people had been shocked and appalled (Draco had ranted for days about how a Mudblood’s son didn’t deserve Slytherin’s gift). But that shock had rather waned in the face of the continuing Petrification attacks. The attacks had stopped as suddenly as they had begun after the apparent death of the Weasley girl in the Chamber of Secrets, with no one ever caught as far as Theo knew.
And since then, there had been silence from the Dark Lord, silence from Potter, and silence from those who had once waited for Potter to save them.
Potter had used controlled, casual wandless magic today, and then spoken of it as it were nothing. Theo snorted. Obviously he’d been fooled by Draco and Blaise’s bragging into thinking that such wandless power really was casual, and he’d probably fallen for some plain lies from other people and mixed up a child’s accidental magic with the wandless kind.
Draco and Blaise bragged so much because they could create tiny wandless Lumos Charms the size of their little fingers. They might be able to do something more impressive later on. Might. Theo didn’t personally think so. Neither Draco nor Blaise had the self-control.
But then again, he hadn’t thought Potter had, either.
When Theo glanced down, glinting ice crystals had crept back across the flesh of his right hand. He scowled and cast another Warming Charm, then stood to fetch a Pepper-Up Potion from his private stores.
He was going to keep an eye on Potter. Someone that powerful who didn’t even know it, someone ignored by everyone so that no one else had known about his power either…
That kind of person could be an asset for the Nott family.
