Chapter Twelve of 'Chrysalis'- Throwing Weight

[lomonaaeren]

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Chapter Twelve—Throwing Weight

“Please sit down, Mr. Nott.”

Theo sits slowly across from Amelia Bones. He’s still not sure why he got summoned to the Ministry but Harry and Neville didn’t. It seems that Madam Bones would want to speak with all three of them, or at least Neville, about her investigation into Augusta Longbottom.

Madam Bones clears her throat and stares at Theo from under lowered brows. “I want you to know that I mean no disrespect by this, Mr. Nott, and have no desire to pry into your private affairs. I need to ask clarifying questions.”

“All right.”

“Will you please tell me the circumstances under which you became an orphan?”

“My father brought me to the graveyard where Peter Pettigrew was trying to resurrect Voldemort.” It’s immensely satisfying to watch Madam Bones flinch backwards as if trying to put the desk between herself and the name. “I think he intended to either kill me or teach me some kind of lesson by making me watch as Harry was murdered. But I fought him in self-defense when he cursed me and killed him instead.”

“I see. And…your mother?”

“Dead years before this.”

“Because of your father.”

Theo holds back the many, many things he wants to say, and just nods. Madam Bones looks down and shuffles a few papers on her desk.

“The reason that I need to ask these questions,” Madam Bones says, as if she’s able to hear the questions bouncing off the inside of Theo’s skull, “is that my revision of the laws has made it clear that you have no guardian, either. Mr. Potter has Mr. Black, and Mr. Longbottom his grandmother, although that may not be the case after this investigation is done. But you have no one.”

Theo stares at her. He has to admit he didn’t think of that complication at all.

“There are no close family members left alive,” he says quietly. “And I had my fifteenth birthday some months ago.”

“A fifteenth birthday is not a seventeenth one, Mr. Nott.”

Theo tilts his head to the side. “No, but there is no one else who is qualified to take over my guardianship either, Madam Bones.”

Madam Bones starts to answer, probably to tell him that a guardian could be appointed by the Wizengamot, but then pauses. “What do you mean by qualified?”

“There are tests that anyone who becomes my guardian would have to pass, Madam Bones. For example, acceptance by the Nott wards. I can hardly be expected to leave my ancestral home behind.”

“I imagine that many people would think you should live somewhere less dangerous, Mr. Nott.”

“I’m sure that people like Mrs. Longbottom would think so,” Theo agrees. “After all, if I hadn’t been behind the wards, then she might have managed to threaten me into handing Neville over to her.”

Madam Bones pauses again. Then she says, “Do you not want a guardian? Someone who could become a force for good in your life, who could protect you and fight the political battles so that you do not need to?”

Theo doesn’t scoff, but he wants. He shakes his head slightly. “Madam Bones, with all due respect, do you think that someone who might be appointed by the Wizengamot or Professor Dumbledore would do as I wanted them to? Wouldn’t they try to misuse my money and Harry’s fame for their own ends?”

“What does Professor Dumbledore have to do with it?”

“He’s already tried to interfere with Harry’s living arrangements. He would interfere with mine if he thought he could get away with it.”

“I would not let that happen.”

Theo looks at her and lets the silence stretch and fill with his skepticism, before he inclines his head. “Of course not, Madam Bones.”

“Mr. Nott—”

A sharp knock at the door interrupts them, and a woman in the scarlet-edged robes of a junior Auror skids in and bows. Theo eyes her in interest. For one thing, her hair is flickering bright-red and purple at the same time, the sign of a Metamorphmagus.

For another, there’s blood trickling down her cheek.

“Report, Auror Tonks,” Madam Bones says crisply. Only the slight widening of her eyes indicates her shock.

“We went to the Longbottom house to present Mrs. Longbottom with the news that she was being investigated, as you asked,” Tonks begins. Her gaze goes sideways to Theo, but then returns to Madam Bones. “She said there was no way it was true, so Auror Shacklebolt showed her the official notice. She lost her mind and attacked us.”

“Attacked you?”

Auror Tonks nods and touches her cheek as if she’s hoping that the trickle of blood hasn’t stained her robes. “She started yelling that no one was going to take her only remaining family away from her and launched a curse at us. Auror Shacklebolt managed to deflect most of it, but part of it hit him and me.” Tonks grimaces. “The cut is small, but it won’t stop bleeding.”

Theo lets his eyes widen. The Hemophilia Curse is one that his father taught him at a far younger age than Tonks is now, but he’s amazed that Mrs. Longbottom would show off that she knew it.

Madam Bones pinches her nose. “You’re relieved from duty, Auror Tonks. Visit the Curse-Breakers. Tug Auror Shacklebolt with you by his ear if you have to.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Auror Tonks leaves. Madam Bones turns around and stares heavily at Theo. “Do you see why you need a guardian, Mr. Nott? Someone who can protect you against anyone who might point a wand at you.” She sits in silence for a moment. “I knew Augusta was paranoid after what happened to Frank and Alice, but to openly attack a pair of Aurors…Merlin.”

“She attacked me, as well,” Theo points out. “But I was behind the wards, and that meant she couldn’t hurt me as much. How would a guardian defend me better than the wards did, when even Aurors were caught off-guard by her curses?”

Madam Bones shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have pushed this so much, but the order is coming from the Wizengamot.”

“Can you tell me why?”

Madam Bones regards him carefully for such a long, silent moment that Theo thinks she won’t tell him. Then she murmurs, “They are worried about what it means when you have Harry Potter living with you and now another child whose guardianship is in question. They worry about them being behind Nott wards and…”

Out of their control, Theo supplies silently. He dips his head in a shallow bow to Madam Bones. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You realize that I have no authority to prevent this particular investigation from going forwards?”

Theo just nods. He knows that she would have kept it under wraps if she could, but there’s no point in blaming her. He can blame much better people, like Fudge and the Wizengamot members who think they can use Harry politically. Maybe even Dumbledore, although Madam Bones hasn’t said anything particularly implicating the Headmaster, so Theo will reserve judgment.

It doesn’t mean he won’t fight it.

“Yes, I realize that,” Theo adds, when he sees Madam Bones still waiting for a verbal answer. “But I hope you know that I’ll fight back with everything I have to prevent any of my friends from losing their freedom.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about Mr. Potter. His guardianship is secure with Mr. Black.”

Theo says nothing. If the Wizengamot is ordering some kind of investigation into Theo, then they might end up taking Harry away from Black, too. There’s no telling what they’ll do if someone wants to use Harry for their own political advantage.

Madam Bones seems to realize that a second later. She flushes lightly and shakes her head. “The first hearing is tomorrow. No, I shouldn’t call it a hearing. It’s much more in the nature of a—miniature investigation, trying to learn everything they can about you.”

“For what purpose?”

“So they can match you better with a guardian, Mr. Nott.”

Theo stands. “Thank you for informing me, Madam Bones.”

Madam Bones squints at him. “I know that you are accustomed to doing as you wish, Mr. Nott, but this does not have to be a bad thing. I have deplored the existing situation, that magical Britain expects adulthood of children whose parents die without wills, for a long time. We can think of this as the chance to settle some of those problems and give some children back their childhood.”

Theo just inclines his head. They could think of it like that, yes, if Theo wasn’t raised as he was and if the people doing this had some other goal than to gain control of Harry (and perhaps Neville, for that matter. Theo can imagine that more than one person has a grudge against Augusta Longbottom).

Madam Bones sighs and lets him go.

*

“They can’t do this.”

Harry is pacing back and forth in the library, his hands folded behind his back and his scowl aimed at the carpet. Theo is touched at the rage on his behalf. But he has to lean back in his chair and shake his head.

“They can. No laws exist, but that just means that they can pass some if they want. It’s been convenient for people to let it continue like this for a while, or inconvenient for them to investigate. Now they think there’s a reason.”

“Me. You’re a target because of me.”

“Now, be fair. I could also be a target because of Black, and because of my father, and because we’re sheltering Neville right now.”

Harry turns around with a stubborn mask-like expression on his face. Theo studies him, intrigued. He’s seen Harry look sort of like this before, but only when Theo was trying to tell him some important truths. He doesn’t know why Harry might have chosen to blank his face right now.

“I can try to do something,” Harry says. “Will you trust me?”

Theo understands immediately. He’ll be in the same room as at least two people accomplished with Legilimency tomorrow, if the full Wizengamot shows up—and they probably will. Someone might also arrange to dose him with Veritaserum, as illegal as that is. He can’t betray what he doesn’t know about. “Yes.”

Harry comes over, bends down to press a kiss to Theo’s lips like a bird skimming across them, and leaves the library at a near-run.

Theo smiles and runs his fingers over his lips, then drops his hand immediately when he sees Blaise standing in the doorway. “What do you want?”

Blaise doesn’t make fun of him for acting like a sentimental idiot, the way Theo thought he would. His eyes are unusually intense as he takes a step into the library. “My mother could take care of it.”

“She can’t kill everyone on the Wizengamot.”

“There are other ways.”

Theo smiles, oddly touched. “I know, and thank you. But I won’t risk our alliance like that. I think it should be saved for times when Harry and I are truly in physical danger. At the moment, all we know is that the Wizengamot is meeting to determine if I need a guardian. We don’t know what they’ll decide or if I’m in any danger. Or if Harry is.”

“Your new guardian could be in danger if they appoint one.”

Theo smiles again and doesn’t bother holding any of himself back from the gesture. “Well, in that case, I don’t need your mother’s help to take care of it.”

*

“Welcome to the Wizengamot courtroom, Mr. Nott.”

It’s a different courtroom than the one they used for Black’s trial. There’s still the same stone walls and heavy door, but there’s a huge table in the middle of it with a single seat empty at the bottom of the table. Theo snorts a little when he sees the tall red back and the golden edging around the arms. They’re trying to make him look as small as possible.

They’ve miscalculated, and not just because someone seems to think they’re trying to intimidate a small child instead of a teenager who can sit comfortably in the chair. Theo is what he is. He hates his father and always will, but he is also a survivor of the upbringing that his father gave him.

“If you will sit in the chair, Mr. Nott?”

Theo nods to the woman who speaks, a simpering one in a pink cardigan, and takes his place. He glances from face to face, and keeps his own expression calm and placid. They can do what they like. He’s never going to yield up Harry or Neville.

“We are here to begin the process of finding Mr. Nott a suitable guardian,” Madam Bones says. She’s the only one standing, off to the left of the table. “Mr. Nott, can you describe to us how you came to be left without one?”

“Of course, Madam Bones. My mother died when I was young. My father raised me with an ideal in mind—”

“To make you a Death Eater?”

“He would have been pleased by that outcome,” Theo says, nodding to the tall witch with shaggy grey hair who’s leaning forwards. “But I decided against it.”

The woman squints at him.

Madam Bones coughs, as if reminding the people in the room of something with the sound, and glances at Theo. “You are sure that you have no relatives left on your father’s side of the family?”

“A few distant ones. None of them are close enough for the house’s wards to accept them, and I don’t want to stress the wards by asking.”

“You are saying that you are the only one who can turn the Nott house into an impregnable fortress?” asks Rufus Scrimgeour. He’s sitting with his chin propped in his hand, staring at Theo as if he thinks that he can unnerve him that way. Theo wants to laugh at the thought. After killing his own father and being in the same graveyard when Voldemort attempted to rise, no Ministry employee is ever going to frighten him again.

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

“And if other children run away from their proper guardians?” the woman in the pink cardigan asks. “Would you take them in as well and shut them behind these wards?” She clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “My dear, surely you can see that such revolt against parents is childish at best?”

“I agree, ma’am,” Theo says, and smiles as her face brightens. “I just happen to think that mistreating your children in the hopes that you can mold them into some shape as if we were biscuits is more childish.”

The woman stares at him. Perhaps she’s not used to people sounding polite when they disagree with her.

The witch with grey hair clears her throat. “Mr. Nott, we’re here to determine a suitable guardian for you. And you should know that we also have to look twice at Mr. Potter. It’s been suggested that Mr. Black is hardly suitable, after spending years in Azkaban.”

“He’s receiving Mind-Healing at the moment, ma’am.”

“But surely no one can overcome the effects of Azkaban in an afternoon.”

“No, ma’am. That’s why he’s been attending regular sessions for more than a week now.”

“A week only?” The witch shakes her head slowly. “Yes, we have to reevaluate. And then there is the matter of Neville Longbottom running away from his guardian.”

“Does it matter that she cursed me through the house wards? It was only thanks to those wards that it wasn’t worse than it was.” Theo bows his head a little. “I would be very upset if she was granted access to my house or if I had to see one of my friends suffering under her hand, ma’am.”

“That’s not at all certain,” Madam Bones interrupts hastily. “This is only a preliminary investigation, after all.”

“How long do you expect it to take?”

“As long as it takes,” says the woman in the pink cardigan. “You must know that, Mr. Nott. The decisions of the Ministry cannot be rushed.”

“Do you expect to have a guardian in place for me before I return to school, ma’am?”

“Of course,” says the woman, and her smile widens across her face, increasing her resemblance to a toad. “After all, we can hardly have you and the other children spending the summer alone!” She titters.

“We do have Mr. Black in the house,” Theo says, watching her out of the corner of one eye. He doesn’t want to mention Lupin, since he was sacked for being a werewolf and it’s possible that the Wizengamot knows about that.

“An incompetent adult may be worse than none.”

“Yes, yes, Dolores, we know your opinions,” Scrimgeour interrupts in a bored voice. “Mr. Nott, do you think Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom would be willing to come here and speak to us?”

And here it is. Of course they want to get Harry and Neville out from behind the wards. Maybe some of them are working together with Mrs. Longbottom. At least Theo can be fairly sure that Madam Bones isn’t on the horrible old woman’s side, not after what Mrs. Longbottom did to her Aurors.

“You would have to offer better explanations than you have so far,” Theo says, and sits up a little. “After all, I am a teenager without a guardian, and you have explained that you’re looking into the state of children like me who are left without adult supervision when their parents die intestate. But Harry has a guardian, and Neville has an abusive one. Why would they need to be involved in this investigation?”

“Yes, indeed,” Madam Bones says loudly, before the pink woman—Dolores—can speak. “That is something I have asked several times now and haven’t received a true answer on.”

Before Dolores can answer, or anyone else, there’s a loud rumble from outside the door of the room. Theo grips his wand. He has a few surprises prepared if someone tries to kidnap him and use him to force Harry to do what they want.

But it’s an Auror who enters and hurries straight up to Madam Bones to whisper in her ear. She gasps. Now most of the people around the table are leaning over to look at her.

“Madam Bones?” Scrimgeour asks.

“There are—the Daily Prophet has come out with a special issue,” Madam Bones says faintly. “And there are—I understand that there are photographs in it that were taken from a Pensieve memory.”

Theo feels his eyes widen. There are cameras that can translate images from a Pensieve into regular photographs, but they’re stunningly expensive. Not even Father owned one.

“And what are the photographs of?” demands the witch with the grey hair. “Why are they important enough to interrupt a Wizengamot hearing?”

Hearing. Theo commits that to memory himself. Maybe whoever put those photographs in the paper, whoever they are, will have equipment that can broadcast the sound of Pensieve memories over the wireless. Theo knows it exists, although not what it costs.

“They are of—of You-Know-Who’s near-resurrection in the graveyard,” whispers Madam Bones. “Of how close we came to having a Dark Lord rise again.”

Babbling immediately breaks out, dominated by the woman in pink screaming that there is no Dark Lord to return, that he is dead, that this must be a fake. In the meantime, Theo sits there with his mouth slightly open.

Trust me.

Harry decided that he had to create a distraction so Theo would be safe. He probably had Black buy him the bloody camera that would let him put Pensieve memories into the paper as photographs.

Theo rubs his forehead. Trust a Gryffindor to come up with something like this. Supposedly, Slytherin is the most dramatic House, but Theo knows the truth. Gryffindor would have the victory in that contest every time.