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lomonaaerenTitle: Iolite
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo, past Harry/Ginny
Content Notes: Ignores the epilogue, angst, pre-slash, torture
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: This part 1700
Summary: Just because he’s broken up with Ginny doesn’t mean he can’t look for a ring to give a future spouse, Harry thinks. In Borgin and Burke’s, he finds a ring that once belonged to the Nott family.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Theo/Harry Confectionary,” or short Harry/Theo stories, being posed between the first of December and the winter solstice. “Iolite” is the name for a deep blue or purple variety of cordierite used as a semiprecious gemstone. This will have a second part, to be posted tomorrow.
Iolite
Harry sighed as he stepped through the door of Borgin and Burke’s. He didn’t really want to be here. If it had been as easy as he’d assumed to find a gemstone capable of taking a powerful enchantment in the Diagon Alley shops like Diamante, he would have been home and beginning that enchantment already.
But for some reason, all the rings and necklaces they had there were—well, useless was the polite term. Useless for Harry’s purposes, anyway.
“Mr. Potter.”
Harry glanced up. He didn’t recognize the man behind the counter, but it didn’t really matter. Harry had never become an Auror, preferring the path of a Healer, and he wasn’t here to seek out or arrest Dark wizards. “Mr. Burke?”
“Borgin.”
Harry just nodded. “I’m looking for a gemstone capable of taking a powerful protective enchantment.”
The man examined Harry intently for a moment. He had russet-brown hair in a long braid and piercing black eyes. But he seemed to have decided Harry was there as a customer, because he abruptly draped his arms on the counter and said in a business-like voice, “Just the stone, or set in a piece of jewelry?”
“Either.”
“What kind of protective enchantment?”
“One of my own design, as powerful and sweeping in effect as a Patronus.”
Borgin waited for a long moment as if he thought Harry would specify more parameters, then shrugged. “You’re welcome to take a look at my collection. Both stones and jewelry. Over there.” He nodded at the large crystalline display case on the far side of the shop.
Harry turned and walked over. He didn’t see any need for further discussion. He would find what he needed here, or he wouldn’t.
In a way, it wasn’t even urgent, what he wanted. He wasn’t engaged or betrothed, which from what he could tell by the announcements in the papers was like engaged with more prissiness. He had once thought he would marry Ginny, but she had spent so many years with the Harpies abroad that he couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d seen her.
Harry wanted to get married. Finding the right stone or ring was just a sort of deposit on it.
Maybe once I find the stone, I can start searching for the person worthy of it.
The front doors of the display case swung open soundlessly as Harry came to a stop in front of it. He studied it critically. The shelves were lined with black Acromantula silk, and each gem or piece of jewelry was cradled in a glowing bubble.
He held out his hand and ran his hand through the air above the bubbles, letting his magic dance and spark at his fingertips. It was the way he had already tested similar stones on Diagon Alley, although admittedly this looked like a wider variety.
There was no answering spark on the first shelf. None on the second. Harry sighed a little as he moved on to the third. He hated the idea that he would have to—
Wait.
Something almost stung his fingers on the third shelf. Harry paused and examined the piece of jewelry, a heavy black ring with a blue stone set in it. He thought for a moment the gem was a sapphire, but it looked darker than that.
“What’s this?”
Borgin came over to look at it, tilting his head this way and that as if trying to remember what the stone was called. “Iolite,” he said at last. “Not a sapphire, but it’s pretty, ain’t it?” He tried to give Harry a smile of fellow feeling.
Harry didn’t return it. “Not a sapphire,” he repeated, looking at the stone again. It was set awkwardly into the ring, as though someone had jammed the stone down, then wandered off and forgotten it.
Borgin nodded enthusiastically. “Stone’s not as rare, but some of them are cut in interesting shapes, and some take on interesting colors.” He paused one more moment, studying the ring, and then snapped his fingers with a dry, papery sound that Harry instinctively cringed from. “Almost forgot what makes this one special!” He took up the ring, soundlessly popping the bubble it was in, and turned the object around to face Harry. “Look at this, then.”
Harry studied the mark scratched into the ring for a full five seconds before he realized it was a rune. “Which one’s that?”
“Sowilo. Sun. Victory. Lots of other things.” Borgin waved the ring around so hard for a minute that Harry was sure it would go flying out of his grasp and shatter something. “But what’s even more special is this.”
He touched the rune and muttered a word that Harry couldn’t make out. It sounded like it might be “nut.” The edge of the ring lit up with a glowing, glittering silvery cloud streaked with black lightning.
“Why would it do that?” Harry asked. He could think of lots of enchantments someone might want to put on a ring, including the protectives one he would be aiming for, but the cloud itself didn’t seem to have a purpose.
“Besides being pretty?”
Harry looked into Borgin’s eyes, pleased when they finally dropped away from his own gaze. “Yes,” he said. “Besides that.”
Borgin cleared his throat. “Touch the cloud, you touch the memories, that’s what they say. It used to belong to the Nott family. My uncle got some of the memories.” He shrugged. “I haven’t tried myself. Don’t particularly want to know anything about any Death Eaters.”
Harry stared at the ring. He could understand how it had ended up here. Stolen or pawned, and it wouldn’t be unusual for someone who had stolen the ring to end up here, either.
But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine giving up a ring that held some of his own memories.
“I’ll take it.”
“What?”
Borgin looked astonished. For that matter, Harry felt some of the same way. He hadn’t known he would say that. He hadn’t known he wanted the ring. Especially since he’d come seeking a piece of jewelry or a stone he could work enchantments on, and he already knew he would be giving this one back to the Notts.
Borgin recovered a moment later, and shrugged. “It’s your money.” He trotted towards the counter with the ring in his hand, probably fearing Harry would change his mind. “Six Galleons.”
Harry had no idea whether that was too expensive or not. He didn’t really care. He handed over the money and received the ring, which sparkled in his hand as if it were happy to be getting out of the shop.
“Enjoy your purchase, sir.”’
Borgin leered at him. Harry just nodded back distantly and left the shop, looking down at the ring with no small amount of curiosity.
Borgin hadn’t told him the word to activate the ring’s cloud, but given that it had sounded like “nut,” it didn’t take any great imagination to realize it must be “Nott.” Harry would take the ring home, polish it, and see what resulted.
*
“Nott.”
The ring sparked for a second, and then the cloud lifted along the edge of the iolite stone. Harry touched the cloud with his fingers, experiencing a sensation of falling and whirling not unlike a combination of a Pensieve and a Portkey.
He’d been prepared for lots of things. Memories from distant Nott ancestors, memories from the Death Eater who had served Voldemort, memories from Grindelwald’s war or Hogwarts or a carefree, spoiled childhood.
He wasn’t at all prepared to find himself standing in the Slytherin common room and see it filled with people he recognized. Draco Malfoy, a bright flush on his cheeks, was speaking to the boy who must be Theodore Nott.
Harry moved a little to the side to see Nott’s face better. Nott had grey eyes, which Harry didn’t think he’d ever noticed before, and they were narrowed and furious. He spoke in a clipped voice. “It’s obvious that something’s happening, Draco, that you’ve been assigned some farce of a mission for the Dark Lord. I only wanted to help. Forgive me for—”
“You just want to steal my glory! You’re angry that he Marked me before you!”
Nott’s face became perfectly blank. Only a few other people were in hearing distance, including Crabbe, Goyle, and a thin girl Harry thought was called Daphne Greengrass. All of them visibly winced.
“If you truly think that,” Nott said, his voice low and precise, “then I suppose there is nothing more to say. This friendship is over, and there is nothing I can contribute that would make it worth anything to you.”
Malfoy paused. “I didn’t mean—what, Theo?”
Nott just said, “You’ve refused my help. You’ve accused me of jealousy. You’ve accused me of wanting to steal from you. Is that something you would do to a friend?”
Malfoy visibly wavered on the brink of saying something, and Harry found himself leaning forwards, even willing Malfoy to get it. It had to do with the perfect blankness in Nott’s face, the low quality of his voice, far more than it did any sympathy for Malfoy himself.
But then Malfoy straightened, and his sneer came rushing back. “Yeah, if you can’t see and acknowledge your betters, I reckon this friendship is over, Theo.”
Nott turned away and crossed the Slytherin common room towards the steps that looked as if they led up to the boys’ dormitories. Harry heard the murmur of voices break out behind him, but he didn’t get to hear what they said before the memory ended.
*
Harry stared at the ring when he opened his eyes, as if waking up back in his body. It sat in his hand and sparkled.
For as simple an interaction as that had seemed, Harry was sure it had touched something far deeper in Nott. It wouldn’t just be any old memories that were added to this ring, he thought. It would be powerful ones, ones that could hurt the possessor.
Ones they wanted to be free of.
Harry took a deep breath and reached to touch the edge of the sparkling cloud before it could fade.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Theo, past Harry/Ginny
Content Notes: Ignores the epilogue, angst, pre-slash, torture
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: This part 1700
Summary: Just because he’s broken up with Ginny doesn’t mean he can’t look for a ring to give a future spouse, Harry thinks. In Borgin and Burke’s, he finds a ring that once belonged to the Nott family.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Theo/Harry Confectionary,” or short Harry/Theo stories, being posed between the first of December and the winter solstice. “Iolite” is the name for a deep blue or purple variety of cordierite used as a semiprecious gemstone. This will have a second part, to be posted tomorrow.
Iolite
Harry sighed as he stepped through the door of Borgin and Burke’s. He didn’t really want to be here. If it had been as easy as he’d assumed to find a gemstone capable of taking a powerful enchantment in the Diagon Alley shops like Diamante, he would have been home and beginning that enchantment already.
But for some reason, all the rings and necklaces they had there were—well, useless was the polite term. Useless for Harry’s purposes, anyway.
“Mr. Potter.”
Harry glanced up. He didn’t recognize the man behind the counter, but it didn’t really matter. Harry had never become an Auror, preferring the path of a Healer, and he wasn’t here to seek out or arrest Dark wizards. “Mr. Burke?”
“Borgin.”
Harry just nodded. “I’m looking for a gemstone capable of taking a powerful protective enchantment.”
The man examined Harry intently for a moment. He had russet-brown hair in a long braid and piercing black eyes. But he seemed to have decided Harry was there as a customer, because he abruptly draped his arms on the counter and said in a business-like voice, “Just the stone, or set in a piece of jewelry?”
“Either.”
“What kind of protective enchantment?”
“One of my own design, as powerful and sweeping in effect as a Patronus.”
Borgin waited for a long moment as if he thought Harry would specify more parameters, then shrugged. “You’re welcome to take a look at my collection. Both stones and jewelry. Over there.” He nodded at the large crystalline display case on the far side of the shop.
Harry turned and walked over. He didn’t see any need for further discussion. He would find what he needed here, or he wouldn’t.
In a way, it wasn’t even urgent, what he wanted. He wasn’t engaged or betrothed, which from what he could tell by the announcements in the papers was like engaged with more prissiness. He had once thought he would marry Ginny, but she had spent so many years with the Harpies abroad that he couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d seen her.
Harry wanted to get married. Finding the right stone or ring was just a sort of deposit on it.
Maybe once I find the stone, I can start searching for the person worthy of it.
The front doors of the display case swung open soundlessly as Harry came to a stop in front of it. He studied it critically. The shelves were lined with black Acromantula silk, and each gem or piece of jewelry was cradled in a glowing bubble.
He held out his hand and ran his hand through the air above the bubbles, letting his magic dance and spark at his fingertips. It was the way he had already tested similar stones on Diagon Alley, although admittedly this looked like a wider variety.
There was no answering spark on the first shelf. None on the second. Harry sighed a little as he moved on to the third. He hated the idea that he would have to—
Wait.
Something almost stung his fingers on the third shelf. Harry paused and examined the piece of jewelry, a heavy black ring with a blue stone set in it. He thought for a moment the gem was a sapphire, but it looked darker than that.
“What’s this?”
Borgin came over to look at it, tilting his head this way and that as if trying to remember what the stone was called. “Iolite,” he said at last. “Not a sapphire, but it’s pretty, ain’t it?” He tried to give Harry a smile of fellow feeling.
Harry didn’t return it. “Not a sapphire,” he repeated, looking at the stone again. It was set awkwardly into the ring, as though someone had jammed the stone down, then wandered off and forgotten it.
Borgin nodded enthusiastically. “Stone’s not as rare, but some of them are cut in interesting shapes, and some take on interesting colors.” He paused one more moment, studying the ring, and then snapped his fingers with a dry, papery sound that Harry instinctively cringed from. “Almost forgot what makes this one special!” He took up the ring, soundlessly popping the bubble it was in, and turned the object around to face Harry. “Look at this, then.”
Harry studied the mark scratched into the ring for a full five seconds before he realized it was a rune. “Which one’s that?”
“Sowilo. Sun. Victory. Lots of other things.” Borgin waved the ring around so hard for a minute that Harry was sure it would go flying out of his grasp and shatter something. “But what’s even more special is this.”
He touched the rune and muttered a word that Harry couldn’t make out. It sounded like it might be “nut.” The edge of the ring lit up with a glowing, glittering silvery cloud streaked with black lightning.
“Why would it do that?” Harry asked. He could think of lots of enchantments someone might want to put on a ring, including the protectives one he would be aiming for, but the cloud itself didn’t seem to have a purpose.
“Besides being pretty?”
Harry looked into Borgin’s eyes, pleased when they finally dropped away from his own gaze. “Yes,” he said. “Besides that.”
Borgin cleared his throat. “Touch the cloud, you touch the memories, that’s what they say. It used to belong to the Nott family. My uncle got some of the memories.” He shrugged. “I haven’t tried myself. Don’t particularly want to know anything about any Death Eaters.”
Harry stared at the ring. He could understand how it had ended up here. Stolen or pawned, and it wouldn’t be unusual for someone who had stolen the ring to end up here, either.
But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine giving up a ring that held some of his own memories.
“I’ll take it.”
“What?”
Borgin looked astonished. For that matter, Harry felt some of the same way. He hadn’t known he would say that. He hadn’t known he wanted the ring. Especially since he’d come seeking a piece of jewelry or a stone he could work enchantments on, and he already knew he would be giving this one back to the Notts.
Borgin recovered a moment later, and shrugged. “It’s your money.” He trotted towards the counter with the ring in his hand, probably fearing Harry would change his mind. “Six Galleons.”
Harry had no idea whether that was too expensive or not. He didn’t really care. He handed over the money and received the ring, which sparkled in his hand as if it were happy to be getting out of the shop.
“Enjoy your purchase, sir.”’
Borgin leered at him. Harry just nodded back distantly and left the shop, looking down at the ring with no small amount of curiosity.
Borgin hadn’t told him the word to activate the ring’s cloud, but given that it had sounded like “nut,” it didn’t take any great imagination to realize it must be “Nott.” Harry would take the ring home, polish it, and see what resulted.
*
“Nott.”
The ring sparked for a second, and then the cloud lifted along the edge of the iolite stone. Harry touched the cloud with his fingers, experiencing a sensation of falling and whirling not unlike a combination of a Pensieve and a Portkey.
He’d been prepared for lots of things. Memories from distant Nott ancestors, memories from the Death Eater who had served Voldemort, memories from Grindelwald’s war or Hogwarts or a carefree, spoiled childhood.
He wasn’t at all prepared to find himself standing in the Slytherin common room and see it filled with people he recognized. Draco Malfoy, a bright flush on his cheeks, was speaking to the boy who must be Theodore Nott.
Harry moved a little to the side to see Nott’s face better. Nott had grey eyes, which Harry didn’t think he’d ever noticed before, and they were narrowed and furious. He spoke in a clipped voice. “It’s obvious that something’s happening, Draco, that you’ve been assigned some farce of a mission for the Dark Lord. I only wanted to help. Forgive me for—”
“You just want to steal my glory! You’re angry that he Marked me before you!”
Nott’s face became perfectly blank. Only a few other people were in hearing distance, including Crabbe, Goyle, and a thin girl Harry thought was called Daphne Greengrass. All of them visibly winced.
“If you truly think that,” Nott said, his voice low and precise, “then I suppose there is nothing more to say. This friendship is over, and there is nothing I can contribute that would make it worth anything to you.”
Malfoy paused. “I didn’t mean—what, Theo?”
Nott just said, “You’ve refused my help. You’ve accused me of jealousy. You’ve accused me of wanting to steal from you. Is that something you would do to a friend?”
Malfoy visibly wavered on the brink of saying something, and Harry found himself leaning forwards, even willing Malfoy to get it. It had to do with the perfect blankness in Nott’s face, the low quality of his voice, far more than it did any sympathy for Malfoy himself.
But then Malfoy straightened, and his sneer came rushing back. “Yeah, if you can’t see and acknowledge your betters, I reckon this friendship is over, Theo.”
Nott turned away and crossed the Slytherin common room towards the steps that looked as if they led up to the boys’ dormitories. Harry heard the murmur of voices break out behind him, but he didn’t get to hear what they said before the memory ended.
*
Harry stared at the ring when he opened his eyes, as if waking up back in his body. It sat in his hand and sparkled.
For as simple an interaction as that had seemed, Harry was sure it had touched something far deeper in Nott. It wouldn’t just be any old memories that were added to this ring, he thought. It would be powerful ones, ones that could hurt the possessor.
Ones they wanted to be free of.
Harry took a deep breath and reached to touch the edge of the sparkling cloud before it could fade.
