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Chapter Eight—Houseguests

Theo wakes to his wards singing in his mind. He rolls silently out of bed, one hand wrapped around his wand. He hasn’t heard this particular singing before, and doesn’t know for certain what it represents.

Of course, he does know that if it represents a threat to Harry, it’s going to die.

Theo flows down the staircase to the front doors and calls Cassie when he’s there. The elf appears next to him silently, her ears standing straight up and trembling. “Who’s outside the wards, Cassie?” Theo asks softly. He can extend his sight through them if he tries, but it would take magic that he would prefer to save for a battle.

“Cassie is sorry for not holding them at bay—”

“Just answer the question.”

Cassie pulls herself together with visible effort, but nods and whispers, “It is being the woman who is the mother of your friend. And your friend. The one who lives in Italy.”

Blaise…and his mother. Now Theo thinks he understands the wards’ confused song. On the one hand, Theo considers Blaise his friend and would welcome him, and even thought about seeking shelter with his mother. On the other, Mrs. Zabini could be a threat. The wards probably didn’t know how to react.

“Thank you, Cassie,” Theo says, and steps up to the front door. He summons a shield that will float along with him, invisibly, and only spring up if someone actually casts a hex at him.

“Mr. Theo is not going outside?”

Theo smiles a little at her over his shoulder. “I am.”

“There could be a threat!”

“The wards and my spells will handle it,” Theo says, and steps through the door to walk towards the ward boundary.

Cassie appears next to him, trotting along and frowning at him. Theo keeps walking, relaxed. She can be there if she wants, but he doesn’t actually need her to help him or protect him from danger.

When he comes in sight of Blaise and Mrs. Zabini, he can see the long, shimmering dark blue gown that Mrs. Zabini is wearing. She looks mildly bored. Blaise, next to her, looks as though he wants to throw a spell or run away.

“Hello, Mrs. Zabini,” Theo says calmly as he comes to a stop near the boundary of the wards. “I’m a little surprised that you’re visiting Britain. I thought you never left Italy at this time of the year.” He looks towards Blaise and nods.

“Given the chaos at the moment, I thought I should escort my son.” Mrs. Zabini gives Theo a thin, faint smile that is more than a match for his own. “He wanted to visit you and meet the boy you’ve taken up with.”

I wanted to meet him. Theo can translate that well enough. He nods to her, too. “I do want to warn you that if you come inside the wards, you’ll be swearing an oath not to harm him.”

“Such distrust.” Mrs. Zabini twists her head a little to the side and eyes him. She reminds Theo of no animal so much as an owl.

“Yes, well, I do have to admit that my own father trying to kill me and Voldemort trying to kill Harry made me a bit wary of threats to us both.”

Mrs. Zabini’s eyes widen. Blaise takes a step forwards, and then restrains himself. He always does with his mother around. But he does dip his head and say quietly, “I’m sorry to hear it had to come to that.”

Theo nods. “I killed him. I defended my life.” He turns and faces Mrs. Zabini, his hand cocked lightly to the side of his hip. He isn’t touching his wand, but he could reach it in an instant.

“You know that I am much more your ally than I was your father’s.”

“Agreed, but I’m at the age where you might try to use me,” Theo says simply. “So I wanted you to understand what you’re facing.”

Mrs. Zabini considers that for a moment, and then smiles. “I think we understand each other very well. Could we meet your ward?”

“My companion. Not my ward.” Theo would feel awkward saying the word “boyfriend” in front of someone like her, so he doesn’t say it.

“I understand that, now,” she murmurs. “Can we meet him?”

“After you swear an oath.”

“Do I need to swear one?” Blaise asks.

Theo smiles at him. “No. I trust you.” And Blaise has been his friend long enough that he would also understand the consequences of harming Harry, even if his mother tried to order him to do it. So he won’t do it.

Blaise simply nods, and steps out of the way as Mrs. Zabini draws her wand. Theo stands there calmly, breathing lightly. He knows exactly how he’ll move if she tries to curse him, and he knows exactly how the wards will tear her apart.

“I swear not to strike at Harry Potter or Theo Nott by curse or word, by deed or thought, unless in self-defense, for the next year and a day.”

Theo blinks, and can’t stop the gesture or his own angry reaction at the small, amused smile Mrs. Zabini gives him as she tucks her wand away. It’s a much more encompassing oath than he thought she would swear, or than he intended to ask for. He thought she would only swear something that would hold for the duration of this visit.

Well. He’ll watch out for the political opportunities that she’ll probably try to seize, and turn them back on her like knives if she tries to hurt him or Harry. Theo half-bows and moves away from the wards. “Be welcome.”

*

“Isabelle Zabini, Blaise Zabini, this is my companion Harry Potter and his godfather Sirius Black.”

Blaise starts at the name, but Mrs. Zabini is composed. And Blaise relaxes after a glance at Theo. He might not have had a chance to read the papers, but he understands that he doesn’t need to worry about Black if Theo is calm.

Theo rather thinks that he is lucky in his friends, and absurdly lucky in his boyfriend.

“Hello,” Harry says, stepping forwards and holding out his hand. He’s looking at Mrs. Zabini at first, but he turns and smiles at Blaise, too. “You’re the ones who would have given Theo shelter for the summer, right?”

“Yes, that’s me,” says Blaise. His mother remains quiet, staring at Harry with wide eyes that more than ever remind Theo of an owl.

“Thank you.”

Blaise apparently doesn’t know what to do with Harry’s sincere words or sincere handshake. Theo coughs his laughter silent and inclines his head to Blaise. “Yes, thank you.”

“I mean, of course—I would have done it because Theo is my friend.”

“And my boyfriend,” Harry says, and drags Theo close with an arm around his shoulder. Theo tries to ignore the way that he’s flushing. Of course Harry is comfortable enough to say the word in front of an adult he doesn’t know. He barely knew Black, from what Theo understands, and he said it in front of him. “I value the people who value him.”

Blaise opens his mouth, then shuts it. It’s probably fortunate that Mrs. Zabini speaks then, especially since Theo can see Black turning steadily redder. “I am interested in why you chose to stay with Theo, Mr. Potter.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I was under the impression that you lived with relatives far away from Hogwarts.”

“Muggle relatives,” Harry says. His voice has gone cool, and he stares back at Mrs. Zabini without backing down, as if he thinks that she’ll scorn him but he doesn’t care. Theo could have told him that he should care, but of course Harry is one of those people who doesn’t. “And even if Theo’s dad hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have wanted to go back there.”

Mrs. Zabini breathes out a little. “Ah. It is like that, then?”

“Harry doesn’t hate Muggles!” Black snaps.

Theo restrains a sigh. Things were going so well, too. “No one is saying that he does, Black.” It’s actually the less damaging assumption for Mrs. Zabini to make, though. That Harry’s been abused would be the next plausible option, and if she believed that and took advantage of it…

Well, the oath should prevent her from doing so. But Theo doesn’t always trust should.

Mrs. Zabini looks at Black with the kind of cool disdain that Theo can only mentally applaud her for, before she turns back to Harry. “You would be interested in spending part of next summer with us in Italy, I hope.”

Theo nearly swallows his tongue. But, of course, Mrs. Zabini understands the potential political power that can come from helping or taking in Harry Potter. And she’ll take as much advantage of that as she can, trying to maneuver Harry into a position where she can gain some kind of advantage from him without violating the terms of her oath.

Theo does wonder what her ultimate goal is. All the years that he’s been close to Blaise, he’s never known.

“This is sort of sudden, Mrs. Zabini. I don’t really know you. And I’ve never been close with your son. No offense,” Harry adds, looking towards Blaise.

Blaise inclines his head gracefully. “None.”

“Of course you have a secure home here with Theo, but I would hope that you would not want to spend all your time in this country,” Mrs. Zabini murmurs. “Italy has many fascinating cities. I would be happy to show you some of them.”

“In return for what, Mrs. Zabini?”

Mrs. Zabini half-smiles. “No one told me that Gryffindors were so direct.”

“Now you know.”

Blaise’s eyes are wide and he’s looking at Theo for some help in this situation. Theo isn’t honestly sure what he should do. Of course it’s entirely possible that Mrs. Zabini finds Harry amusing and she’ll just let this sort of casual defiance go, but it’s also possible that she won’t.

But Harry doesn’t seem to think that he has reason to be intimidated. He’s standing with his arms folded and staring at Mrs. Zabini with a faint frown, as if he’s seeking some sign of a threat and is disappointed not to find one.

Mrs. Zabini laughs abruptly, low and soft, and nods. “I do enjoy meeting someone who has such good taste in defiance,” she says, and glances between Harry and Theo. “Thank you for introducing him to me, Theo.”

“You’re welcome,” Theo says.

He’s grateful that at least this much of the interplay has passed before Black got a chance to jump in, which he does the next second. “Aren’t you the woman who’s murdered all those blokes?” he blurts. “Why did you want to meet Harry? He’s too young for you! By decades!”

Theo doesn’t put his hand over his face, but he wants to. Blaise does. Mrs. Zabini turns slowly to face Black.

“Sirius, shut up,” Harry says.

Theo thinks that, in the end, it’s Harry’s tone that saves the day. He sounds so exasperated, and Mrs. Zabini seems to understand that there are some people there’s just no doing anything with. She offers Harry a thin smile. “At least some people around here understand manners.”

“I understand manners just fine! I just don’t think—”

Theo flexes his will through the wards of the house, and they concentrate in the middle of the room and spin a silent web around Black. Abruptly he can’t speak, and although he widens his eyes and grabs his throat in what looks like a comical gesture, nothing comes out. He glares at all of them and stalks out of the room with what he probably imagines is dignity.

“Thank you, Theo.”

“The man is your godfather,” Mrs. Zabini murmurs. “I would have thought you would be upset at the silencing of him, Mr. Potter.”

“Please call me Harry,” Harry says, because of course he does. He doesn’t ask to call her Isabelle, at least. “He just—he’s been through a lot. And there’s no reason for him to be rude to you when he’s never even met you before.”

Mrs. Zabini’s lips twitch. “We did actually meet once before, years ago, before he went to Azkaban. He came to Italy to ask me if I would join Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix.”

“Oh.”

Harry doesn’t ask how that went. From the expression on his face, he can imagine. Mrs. Zabini just nods and turns to ask Theo about breakfast.

Theo answers politely enough, and has Cassie escort her and Blaise to the breakfast room, the most formal one, that he hasn’t used since he killed his father. Then he turns and looks at Harry. “Do you feel safe around her?”

Harry gives him an odd look. “Of course.”

“What Black said isn’t—far from the truth.”

“I suspected it probably wasn’t.” Harry shrugs. “I can’t see you being friends with Zabini, Blaise, I mean, if he hadn’t grown up in a world that was at least a little like yours.”

Theo pauses, but decides this isn’t the time to pursue it. “I did wonder why you didn’t seem afraid of her at all. Or were you and disguising it?”

Harry gives him a strange look. “She’s frightening, but I’m not afraid.”

“Because of Gryffindor courage?” Theo admires that about Harry, but he also disapproves. It’s the kind of thing that might lead Harry into trouble the next time he faces Voldemort.

“No,” Harry says slowly. “Because I’m in your house, behind your wards, and I know that you would never let harm come to me.”

Theo closes his eyes and can say nothing, because Mrs. Zabini and Blaise are waiting in the next room. But he does reach up and skim his fingers down Harry’s jaw to his chin, cup it for a moment, and kiss him.

Harry returns the kiss eagerly, but he’s still the one to pull away and tug Theo in the direction of the breakfast room, as if he doesn’t like the idea of leaving their guests alone for long, either.

Theo is more than willing to let himself be pulled.

*

Mrs. Zabini has departed after a few more enigmatic remarks, and Theo and Blaise and Harry are sitting in the breakfast room, which is all dark-paneled walls and looming high table and stone statues that depict people with open mouths and expressions of agony. Theo’s father told him that those were ancient enemies of the Nott family changed into stone by magic. Theo has never been sure whether he should believe that or not.

“I won’t be interrupting anything by staying?”

Blaise’s eyes are flickering back and forth between Theo and Harry. Theo shrugs. “No. If you find a locked door, just don’t open it.”

“If you hear wet noises coming from behind it, especially,” Harry adds helpfully.

Blaise laughs, then cuts it off, looking startled at himself. “I didn’t know you were that funny, Potter.”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me.”

Blaise smiles back. “I can see that.”

“Among them,” Harry continues a little briskly, sitting up, “I have friends that I’m inviting over, and I don’t know how well you get along with them.”

“Not at all, if they’re Weasley and Granger.”

“No. Ron and Hermione and I are—a bit distant at the moment.” Theo admires the way that Harry can shrug and adopt a casual tone for something Theo knows isn’t casual at all. “Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know any harm of either of them.” Blaise folds his arms. “Not that I have the right to complain about any invited guest when my mother basically dropped me on you uninvited.”

Theo reaches out and taps him gently on the forehead. “None of that. You remember what I told you when I caught you sneaking that group of Dungbombs into Draco’s bag?”

Blaise smiles. “Yes.”

“It’s still true.”

Harry looks curious, but doesn’t pry. “Anyway, so we invited Neville and Luna, but we don’t know for sure when they’ll come. Or if Neville’s grandmother will let him come. She’s kind of irritated at us for something that happened in the Ministry.”

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear,” Blaise says, and settles back in an obvious listening position.

Theo rolls his eyes but lets Harry tell it. He does it well, for all that he gives Theo a lovesick glance every now and then.

Blaise is polite enough not to laugh about that.

*

Theo slows when he’s passing the music room, where Father kept all the violins and pianos and the like that he would never let anyone play. It was a statement of some sort about Theo’s mother, who loved music. Theo has been debating whether he should get rid of them, but he hasn’t been in the room much since his father died, and only peers in now because he hears furious voices.

The room is large; it has to be, with the pianos nestled all along the wall and in every corner. The violins hang on the walls, above the fireplace and the pianos. Black is standing with his elbow resting on the mantel and arguing with Harry, who’s listening with a stony face.

“—would just let the Black Widow’s son show up out of nowhere, and wouldn’t let Remus come!”

“He will let Remus come,” Harry says with weary patience. “He just has to be confined to a room while he’s here on full moon nights.”

“Remus will hate that! Harry, I know that Nott’s been good to you, but that doesn’t mean he’s good to other people! Or that he can stand up to someone like Mrs. Zabini! And Remus is going to hate—”

“I wrote to him, and he wrote back saying that it was a good idea.”

Theo appreciates that he’s in a position where he can watch all the color drain from Black’s face. “What?”

Harry holds up a piece of parchment and waves it around. “I wrote to Remus, because I wanted to know what he would say,” he repeats. “He wrote back a lot of nonsense about how he should refuse to come because he would put other people in danger, but then, at the very end of the letter, he said it might actually be a good idea for him to come because then Death Eaters couldn’t capture him and try to use him against me somehow. And that’s when he said a warded room would probably be a good idea.”

Black promptly snatches the letter from Harry and begins to read it. His eyes grow wider and wider as he does. Theo smothers a snort with one hand as best as he can. He still gets a mild glare from Harry, who turns towards the door as if he knows Theo’s there.

Of course he does. Theo wouldn’t be surprised if Harry has awareness of him no matter where Theo goes in the house.

“I thought he would hate it,” Black finally whispers, apparently because he can’t find a way to blame Harry or Theo for this or say that it isn’t really Lupin’s writing.

“I know you did,” Harry says gently. “But it’s different from what you suffered, Sirius.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were shut up in a cell surrounded by Dementors for years and years. Of course you would hate being shut up in a warded room. But Remus knows it’s only for one night and that he wouldn’t be safe around us without it.”

Theo thoughtfully makes a note to himself to try and procure Wolfsbane. It’s unlikely that Lupin could afford any, and there’s no reason not to make sure that all of them are as safe as possible.

“Harry, this has nothing to do with me—”

“Yes, it does, Sirius. I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were,” Black says, softly, his voice shocked.

Harry moves a step towards him and tilts his head up. Black isn’t the worst foe Harry’s confronted, but he’s the one he’s confronted with the most compassion shining on his face. Theo has a hard time staying still and keeping himself where he is. “No, you didn’t,” Harry says softly. “But you aren’t going to confront the shadow of Azkaban hanging over you, so I have to do it.”

“Harry—”

“No, Sirius, just listen to me. You don’t want to see Remus put in a warded room that would keep us all safe because that reminds you too much of Azkaban. You don’t want to see me here because you think I’m being caged. But it was the Dursleys’ house I was caged at. And I want to help you out of the cage you’re living in.”

“I’m free. You know that.” Blacks tries out a raspy laugh, which doesn’t suit him.

“No, Sirius, you’re not.” Harry reaches out and gently puts a hand on Black’s arm. “You live with the shadow of what happened to you every day. You’re free now as far as the justice system is concerned, but you still need to acknowledge what happened to you and try to get past it.”

“There is no getting past it!”

“Some people say there’s no defeating Voldemort, either.”

Black and Harry stand eye-to-eye for a second, staring at each other, and then Black does what he always does at moments of high emotion and transforms into a dog to run from the room. He flashes his teeth at Theo as he scampers past him, but even Theo can see that Black’s heart isn’t in it.

That leaves only Harry, who sighs wearily, and leans against Theo when Theo steps in to put an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m here to help you if you need it,” Theo murmurs.

“I know,” Harry whispers, and leans harder on him.

He doesn’t sound defeated. Theo lets his cheek rest for a moment on Harry’s hair.