Disavowals

Chapter Three: Sforzando

Theo was sure that his bed at his uncle and aunt's had never been this uncomfortable. Of course, it wasn't the bed he was used to, the one he'd slept in as long as he could remember, but it had been more comfortable than this.

Come to think of it, this wasn't his uncle and aunt's. For one thing, he was on a couch, with a blanket over him. For another, he didn't recognise this room at all. It looked a bit like a living room - well, armchairs, bookshelves, coffee table - but the black boxes on the shelves and the big one with the shiny grey side in the corner were utterly strange. As was the lamp. Theo sat up with a jerk, the blanket falling away. Where on earth -

The memories failed to spring back, trickling only slowly in. Last night, his father, his aunt, leaving, arriving at Anne's house -

Anne's house! He looked around. Outside the window, he could see a very sedate-looking piece of lawn surrounded by a hedge. What was unusual was Terry and another, smaller girl, kicking some white-and-black Quaffle-sized ball at each other. They dashed past the window and then back again, jockeying for control.

The rest of the room was normal, sort of, but there were all those strange boxes and things that didn't quite fit. Not to mention - he looked up - a lamp hanging on a wire from the ceiling?

Where was Anne, anyway? He got up off the couch, dropping the blanket carelessly back on it. One of the armchairs bore the dents of a curled-up body, and a book he recognised was lying face-down on the arm. The coffee table was graced by a half-written essay on (he went over to look) Charms. Anne's brown-and-white striped quill, the old chewed one, was lying on top. She must have just left. He could see his trunk and broomstick beside the armchair; someone must have brought them in from under the bush outside where he'd stashed them. Theo checked his watch. Four o'clock. He'd slept most of the day away.

Theo headed for the door, but paused in the doorway, uncertain. This was a Muggle house - could he find his way around?

Of course, how different can it be?

As it turned out, he didn't have to. Anne's brother was standing in the hall, bouncing a red ball off the wall with a hard thwack. He had the handle of the thing with buttons held up to his ear, and was talking into it.

"No problem...are you coming to practice tomorrow? What? You have to, it's our last game on Sunday! Oh, fine, as long as you're at the game." Eddie Fairleigh was somewhat taller than his older sister, and more heavily built as well. He glanced up at Theo, and his eyebrows shot up. Theo stared back. He wasn't the one in those strange Muggle clothes talking into...something.

Eddie replaced the ball on the chest-of-drawers. "Sorry, gotta go. See you on Sunday. Yeah, will do. Bye."

He replaced the handle back on the thing with buttons - tele...something. Telephone. That was it. Anne had said they were like the Floo network, except you couldn't travel by them.

"You're that Theodore Nott bloke, aren't you?" Eddie said accusatorily. Theo wondered what he'd done.

"Yes. So?"

"So nothing." Eddie shrugged. "You're a wizard, aren't you? One of the lot that've got that war on."

"You're very good at stating the obvious," Theo let himself lash out. It was relaxing.

Eddie folded his arms. "Why is it you lot think you're so much better than us? Anne and Terry went off to that school of yours, and they come back all on their high horses because they can do magic."

Open hostility was more what Theo had been expecting, after all. But he couldn't help snorting.

"I've never seen Anne on a high horse. Maybe once. What've you got against wizards, if you want to start picking fights?"

"Who says I'm picking a fight?" Eddie glared.

Theo looked him up and down. "You. Actually. But I'd rather not, so if you don't mind, could you tell me where your sister is?"

"Which sister?"

Theo gave him his best withering look. "Your older sister. Who displays a great deal more sense than you are."

"What are you, her boyfriend?" Eddie shot back.

"Would you like to make something of it?" said Theo icily.

Eddie's jaw dropped. "You are?"

Theo sighed. He needed to talk to Anne. Maybe she could make some sense of the world. "Just tell me where she is. Please." Courtesy to a provocative Muggle wasn't easy, but he couldn't exactly duel the other boy.

Eddie unfolded his arms, but he didn't look any more relaxed.

"What on earth do you want do go out with Anne for?"

"Why on earth not?" Theo didn't understand that attitude. Anne was...Anne.

Eddie just glowered.

"Do you think it would be too much of a strain to tell me where she is?"

"In her room."

"And that would be..."

Anne's brother looked mutinous, but he grudgingly gave directions. "Upstairs and first on your right."

"Thank-you." Theo resisted adding that that hadn't been too difficult, now had it?

Eddie gave him a nod. "No problem," he ground out before turning and walking out the front door.

What's his problem?

Anne said he didn't like wizards because he wasn't one.

Idiot.

*

Theo was almost disappointed by the stairs. They were...stairs. Just like any he'd seen before. Much like everything else in this Muggle house, in fact; the same as the wizarding world in many ways...apart from the ones where it was wildly different. Like the stiff, unmoving photos, or the funny lighting. How anyone could find this threatening enough to wizarding society to go to war over it was beyond him.

The door to Anne's room was half-open, so Theo tapped it quietly.

"Come in," she called back. "That you, Theo?"

"Decided to become a Seer, have you?" he asked as he entered the room.

Anne was standing in front of a desk, which was covered with parchment and books. She looked up with a dry smile.

"No, but you knocked."

"So?"

"I forgot, you don't have siblings. My mum thinks that children have a piece of their brain that doesn't grow in until they're about fifteen."

"Which piece?"

"You know, the part to do with knocking on doors, putting things away, picking your clothes up, doing your chores..."

Theo nodded. "I can believe that after the last two summers."

Anne began to pile books and parchment on top of each other; there seemed to be some order, but Theo couldn't work out what it was. "How on earth did you cope with your cousins?"

"I locked the door."

"Don't I wish I could do that." She cast a glance at the door, which Theo had shut behind him. "Ah. D'you think you could open the door, Theo?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, but complied. "Why- oh. I see. House rule?" It was hard to remember that they didn't have to hide.

Anne gave a half-shrug, blushing. "Well - no - but...you know."

Theo did. "Shall I just stay over here, then?"

Anne shot him a look. "Don't be silly."

He gave her wide-eyed innocence back. "You brought propriety up."

She crossed the room to look furtively out the door, then pulled him into the corner behind it and leaned up to kiss him. It was such un-Anne-ish behaviour that Theo barely had the presence of mind for the task at hand, which was, of course, demonstrating that he was extremely glad to see her again.

It was fortunate that Anne's sisters were such loud children, because if they hadn't been giggling and racing each other up the stairs, Theo and Anne probably wouldn't have heard them coming. As it was, they managed to be a reasonably decorous distance away from each other when Terry poked her head in the door, although Anne's ponytail was a hopeless mess.

"You're awake, Theo," Terry chirped. "Good. Has Anne given you the letters? I wanted to wake you up when they got here, but Mum wouldn't let me. You haven't met Nicola, have you? This is my little sister Nic. She's eight."

"Are you from the magic school?" asked the little girl standing next to Terry. She was small, even for an eight year old, with Terry's puppy-like brown eyes and an overdose of Anne's freckles. "Anne and Terry go there."

"Yes, I'm from the...ah...magic school," Theo told her. Family. Anne had so much of it.

"I want to go there when I'm big," Nicola said confidently. "Eddie wants me to stay home with him, but I'd rather learn magic."

Theo couldn't help smiling at the idea of Terry (or any first-year) being "big", but nodded gravely. "It's quite a lot of fun."

Anne must have given Terry some sort of signal, because she put one hand on Nic's shoulder. "Come on, let's go and find the crayons, Nic."

"Okay," Nicola said. Terry grinned cheerfully at them before steering her sister down the hallway. Theo recognised the signs; having failed to find enough interest in him, Nicola's mind had moved on to the next new thing.

"I wish she wouldn't keep saying that," he was surprised to hear Anne say. He turned to see her biting her lip. "It's...such a big fall to set yourself up for, and Nic's not...she hasn't shown anything we could call magic."

"She's not likely to, then, at this age," Theo admitted. "Why does it matter so much? Your brother and parents are Muggles."

Anne shrugged. "Just...well, Eddie set all his hopes on getting a Hogwarts letter once I did, and it's never...it's never been the same, since he didn't. Not that he doesn't like me, it's just - maybe it's just because I'm away so much, I don't know. But I don't want Nic to have that fall, too, and she will have had so much longer to set herself up for it."

"Tell her she's not a witch, then."

"And if I'm wrong?"

"You're wrong, and she won't mind a little fallibility."

"I can tell her all I want, but...what's the phrase? Hope springs eternal. She won't believe until it doesn't come, and then comes the disappointment."

"Tell her anyway," Theo offered. "If it helps...I don't like seeing you get upset about your family. I'm supposed to have the monopoly on that around here."

That brought a wavering smile. "I reserve the right to get as upset about my family as I feel like. Speaking of that..." Anne reached behind her, to the desk, and picked up two letters.

"Here." She held them out. "These arrived about midday. I think one of them is from - is from your father."

Theo stiffened, and almost dropped the letters. "I see."

"The other one's from Hogwarts," she offered in reassurance. "You might...would you like to sit down?"

"Don't sound so serious," Theo told her weakly, but his knees gave out just as he made it to the end of the bed, the only place to sit in the room. Anne pulled the desk chair over to sit herself. He would have preferred it if she'd sat next to him, but then, sitting next to him on the bed was probably pushing it.

"Dumbledore's first," he said firmly, tearing it open. He didn't want to think about the other one.

Anne leant over to read it as he did, bracing herself on his shoulder.

Dear Mr. Nott,

You are quite correct in your assessment of your current situation. Someone will be coming to pick you up from your current location, assuming you have arrived safely, at five p.m. on the twenty-first. They will be someone you have met before, but do ensure their identity before you depart. They will be taking you to a safe location for the remaining week and a bit of the holidays. I believe you may be safe where you are, but as you mentioned, staying would only endanger the residents in the event of your discovery.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

"Five o'clock. And it's four already." Anne sighed. "I wish you could stay for a bit. Its just - I don't get to see you all that much at school, and tied be nice to not have to pretend I don't know you most of the time."

"You won't have to, this year," he pointed out quietly. Hoed been trying not to think about it, but the knowledge was like a black hole, sucking everything towards it. Hoed left. Hoed left everything behind him, except Anne and the DA, and the unknown path hoed been heading towards for years was finally at his feet. Walking it was going to take some doing. "Sharing a dorm with Malfoy is going to be...interesting."

"You could come and be an honorary Hufflepuff," she suggested with a grin. "Idol sponsor you."

The look on his face must have been utterly horrified, because she laughed aloud. "Come on, it wouldn't be that bad."

"I," said Theo with all the dignity he could muster "am a Slytherin, and I will not be chased out of my own House by some jumped-up Death Eaters brat!"

"I thought that was you," she commented innocently.

Theo eyed her. "Hah."

"There's...the other letter, too," Anne added, growing serious. She looked down.

Theo swallowed, all humour gone. "Oh. Yes."

He stared at the envelope, unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar script. He'd received so many letters like this, over his first five years at school. All of them eagerly awaited, or mostly, because when you were a homesick eleven-year-old your father's letters were your only link to home. And when you were older, they were something private, in a world where there was nowhere and nothing truly private, except for your music.

Which was between you and your father, too.

Now the letter, like so many others, resembled nothing so much (in Theo's mind, anyway) as one of those Muggle bombs. Something that might explode at any minute.

"Are you going to open it?" Anne asked. She sounded tentative, and when Theo looked up, she looked down at her lap. "Never mind."

"Yes. Yes, I should," Theo told her, told himself.

It was no more difficult to open than any other letter, except in his mind. Everything around him was suddenly very distracting. It was so much easier to take in the shift of the duvet he was sitting on , Anne hovering beside him, the breeze from the window, the thuds and laughter drifting in from Terry and her sister's game on the lawn. Anne's carpet was almost exactly the colour of slate tiles. It reminded him of the roof at home. Home. His father...

The scrawling strokes of his father's handwriting had never been easy to read, but today it seemed even more indecipherable. The black lines seemed to waver out of focus. Perhaps - no, almost certainly - because he was afraid of their message.

Theodore,

I know you are probably having doubts at this point. Everyone does, sooner or later; I certainly did. But you must understand that we are doing the right thing, for our future, for your future. You've always said this is what you wanted to do; the consequences of backing down now are much greater than you can imagine. I have lost enough people I care for. I don't want to lose you, too. Come back while there's still time. Come back.

Your father always,

Eric

The lines had blurred too much to read, now. Theo reached up to scrub his cheeks with his sleeve. Theory and practice were very different, weren't they? Very different. Theory did not feel like you were ripping pieces of yourself out. Theory didn't make you want to run downstairs and grab your broomstick and fly home immediately, damn the consequences.

But theory kept you sitting right where you were, because theory told you that there were promises you could not make, and oaths you could not swear, and that when it came to the breaking point, as Theo had always known it would, things you could not do. Even for your family, even for your father.

"I deserve to be a Death Eater," he said roughly, crumpling the letter up. "What did I do to deserve that? If he had doubts, why didn't he listen to them? Why do I have to make this choice? Even if I wanted to go back its too late to get there in time, and he made it sound like...like it was my fault, like he was the one being forced to choose. I just...I want to go home."

The real question was, why him, and the answer, Theo knew, was because the world isn't fair. But knowing didn't make it feel fairer.

"This is probably not very helpful," Anne said cautiously from beside him, "but I don't really think blaming your father is very fair. Or a very good idea."

That was a good excuse to snap, and Theo was happy to take it.

"Why shouldn't I?" he burst out, throwing the crumpled letter down onto the bed and springing up. "Why the hell not? He decided to be a Death Eater, he decided that it would be a marvellous idea if I was to, he's the one with the stupid prejudices, he's the one who went to Azkaban, why shouldn't I blame him? I didn't choose this -"

"Yes, you did," Anne said, standing up and crossing her arms. "You chose. Not him. I don't - you know where my sympathies are, but you can't - this isn't just your personal tragedy! That's why you're so eager to pretend it is, because you know bloody well that this is going to hurt your father as much as you, and if you can just blame him, you don't have to think about that!"

"And what makes you think that it's any of your business?" Theo shot back.

"Someone has to talk sense into you," Anne replied mutinously. "I don't care if you blame your father for being a Death Eater. Do it as much as you want. But from everything I've ever seen, you can't accuse him of doing anything except trying to take the best care of you he can. I don't - oh, God, I shouldn't be the one reading this part of the script. You should. Just don't start saying things you're going to regret later."

"You're not my conscience," Theo snarled.

"I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to be your - oh, I don't know. It's called advice. Take it or leave it." Anne folded her arms more tightly around herself. "I hate this war."

Theo felt a twinge of guilt, but stood his ground anyway. "Anyway, you have no right to tell me what to think about my father."

"I've never tried to tell you what to think. Ever. I've spent ages deliberately not telling you what I think you should think, because you've had enough problems anyway, and I knew that would make it easy for you to blame me instead of thinking. But, you know, welcome to the real world, because this is how relationships work. Both ways. You were giving me advice on how to live with my family about five minutes ago, why can't I do the same?"

"That's different -" Theo protested.

"It is not!"

"Your family aren't trying to get you killed!"

"Neither are yours. But if you mean I don't have any problems with them, think again. My brother has been holding a grudge for five years because I'm a witch, my little sister's headed the same way, my parents don't understand what's really going on, oh, and let's not forget about all the fanatic murderers out there who'd quite like to wipe anyone like me off the face of the earth. You do not have a monopoly on problems in your life!"

"Well, neither do you!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!

"Fine!"

The silence that echoed around Anne's room was deafening. Theo realised just how loud they had actually been speaking. Well, shouting. If it came down to it. Anne had her hands on her hips now, and she was flushed with anger. Theo's eyes flicked to the mirror above the dresser. He didn't look much calmer.

They just stood and stared at each other for a moment more. Theo swallowed, feeling more than a little silly. "Er...anything else you'd like to get off your chest, while we're at it?"

Anne let her hands drop. "Ah - no. No, I think that was pretty much everything wrong with my life at the moment. You?"

"No, no, I think I covered everything."

"Good, good."

"Yes, well, we got that out of the way."

"I suppose we did." Anne gave a wavering smile, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "I wonder how much of that my family heard?"

Theo glanced towards the open door. "Probably quite a lot."

"That's what I thought." She was still pink, but it seemed to be from embarrassment now. "I didn't say anything too awful, did I?"

Theo mentally reviewed the discussion. Disagreement. Fight. "I think you accused your parents of not understanding, but that's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Well, if parents understood us, they wouldn't be doing their job right."

"Very true." Theo coughed. "Er. Sorry."

"No problem. I mean, yeah, sorry."

"You don't have to apologise," Theo told her ruefully. "I - you put up with quite enough from my life, as it is."

"You put up with Terry," Anne pointed out. "And I mean, between Terry and Death Eaters, I know which I'd be more afraid of."

"Absolutely. Terry, every time," Theo said, straight-faced.

An indignant screech came from just outside the door. Anne flushed redder, but held out a hand. "Come on. It's not very long until five o'clock. I'll show you our piano. We've got some great Muggle song music."

Theo took it, twining his fingers with hers. "I'd love to look at it."

Anne smiled at him, which was quite enough to make up for Terry's clearly audible mutter of "They're so sappy."

*

Anne was feeling a curious sense of dislocation. Theo here, in her house, was strange enough, but leaning on the piano watching him sight-read music from Les Miserables in her own living room was utterly strange. This didn't happen, not while she was awake. Nor, in her real life, did Nicola skitter downstairs to ask if they were not shouting anymore, and how did Theo know the piano? Anne had asked her how loud they had been, and her youngest sister had told her truthfully "really really loud." She wasn't looking forward to speaking with her mother, and the subject was bound to come up. Terry had perched herself on the table in the hall and was chatting nineteen to the dozen to a Muggle friend on the phone. Half of this was the essence of normality, and the other half was Theo thumping out Do You Hear The People Sing? the way it was meant to be played, reminding her about the time she and her friends had enchanted Umbridge's desk, quirking his mouth in a smile and pushing the hair out of his eyes. That was normality, too, but not the same sort, and the convergence of the two was unexpected and unsettling.

But the practical part of her remembered that Theo was leaving again in half an hour, and they'd just had what amounted to a serious fight, so she sat on the arm of the couch and explained about the music, and laughed at Theo's reaction to some of the songs (which were pretty risqué, if it came to it.)

The doorbell rang at precisely five o'clock, causing Theo to play a horrible discord, Anne to jump, and Eddie to saunter out of the kitchen to answer it. Terry had got off the phone and gone back upstairs some time before. Anne caught Theo's eye, and they both hurried towards the door. Whoever it was, Anne thought, if it was anyone from the wizarding world, Eddie was the last person she wanted answering the door.

They got to the doorway in time to see Eddie opening the front door.

"Yeah?" he said, with all the eloquence of adolescence.

"Good afternoon," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "I take it this is the Fairleigh household?"

"Yeah," Eddie said again, warily. "Are you one of Anne and Terry's lot?" Given that she was wearing Muggle clothing, Anne wondered how he'd known.

"Professor!" Anne said with relief. She didn't want Theo to leave, but that didn't mean she felt relaxed. "Co-"

"Good afternoon, Professor," Theo said politely, surreptitiously grabbing Anne's arm. "Come to check that Terry's staying out of swamps?"

Professor McGonagall frowned at him. "As long as you fish her out, I'm sure she'll be fine."

The grip on her arm let up, and Anne restrained herself from elbowing Theo in the ribs.

"Come in, Professor," she said. "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you, Miss Fairleigh," said her teacher, stepping into the house. Eddie had taken the opportunity to slip back into the kitchen. "Yourselves?"

"Much better than I'd expected to be," Theo replied. "Did Terry tell you I pulled her out of the east corridor swamp?"

"She did, Mr. Nott. Under some pressure, I must admit, and after swearing me to secrecy. She takes your security very seriously."

Checking, Anne realised as she rubbed her arm. He was checking it was Professor McGonagall before I just invited her in.

"Not without reason," she commented out loud. "You're taking Theo somewhere safe, aren't you, Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Fairleigh." She addressed Theo. "You seem to have got yourself into quite a situation, Mr. Nott."

"He does seem to have," said Anne's mother from the kitchen doorway. "Professor McGonagall, isn't it? I don't think you'd remember me, but we met at the briefing for Muggle parents about five years ago. I'm Mary Fairleigh."

"Yes, of course," Professor McGonagall said, shaking hands. "A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Fairleigh. Thank you for allowing Mr. Nott to stay here for the day."

"It was no trouble. I see no reason why my children shouldn't have their friends over for the day." Her eyes flickered to Theo. "Whatever the reason for their visits."

"If I ever come again, I don't think it will be quite as urgent. But thank you very much for having me." Theo's tone was sincere.

"As I said, it was no trouble. Come and visit us sometime when things are calmer. I'm sure Anne would like you to."

On the scale of maternal teasing, this was fairly mild, but in front of Professor McGonagall Anne blushed, muttered something approximating agreement, and changed the subject.

"Theo, do you want to get -"

"My trunk, yes, I'd better," he agreed. "I saw it just in there-" He turned to Professor McGonagall "Professor, where are we going?"

"You'll see when you get there, Mr. Nott." When Theo opened his mouth again, she added, "It's much safer for all concerned if nobody else knows. We're going by Portkey." She extracted, of all things, a fork from her coat pocket. "You can still send letters by owl, you know, as long as you're careful about what you write."

Anne thought back to all the letters of this summer and last, and hoped Professor McGonagall didn't mean what Anne thought she meant. She wasn't smiling. Was she?

My imagination is working overtime today.

Professor McGonagall looked at her watch and announced that the Portkey was set to leave in two minutes, so they'd best be ready. There was just time to grab Theo's trunk and hug him goodbye, even if it was embarrassing in front of her mother (not to mention her teacher!) Terry yelled a quick farewell down the stairs, Professor McGonagall nodded, and they were gone.

Anne's mother blinked at the sudden space in the hallway. "Magic really is amazing. I wonder what that feels like?"

"No idea," Anne told her. The sun was pouring in the stained glass in the door, lighting the hall in violet and green and gold. Theo had come and gone, and it had been less than a day.

"For a quiet day at home, it's been very busy, hasn't it?" said her mother. "I hope you and Theodore had time to make up before he went."

Anne cleared her throat and looked away. "We were very loud, weren't we?"

"Fairly audible, yes," her mother told her.

"That was the first time we - I mean - we weren't really fighting with each other, we just - we sort of needed to clear the air a bit. I don't like shouting."

"I completely understand," her mother said soothingly. "Now that's all done, would you like to peel some potatoes for me?"

It was the sort of question that wasn't a question. Anne rolled her eyes, nodded, and followed her mother into the kitchen.

The "quiet day at home" seemed, in retrospect, more like a week.