Disavowals

Chapter Ten - Allegro, ma non tanto

The first DA meetings of the year were a shock. Anne hadn't realised it was possible for a group of teenagers to look so grim, or so determined. The missing faces were the greatest catalyst. Last year's seventh years had moved on, of course, but there was one person who should have been there, and wasn't. And one who would not have been there - and could not be, now she was dead. Dean Thomas, Katie Bell. The war went on. Summer had taken its toll on more people than just Theo. and in grimmer ways. Their absences were a gaping hole.

The first meeting had devolved not into a real practice but into a sort of wake for the pair. Harry Potter had just let it run that way, not hauling them back on track as he usually did when things wandered into discussion. (Several memorable grumbling sessions about Umbridge last year had been cut ruthlessly short.) They had just sat on the cushions as people told stories, like Katie's grim drive as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, or Dean Thomas' artwork. Seamus Finnigan told a very funny story about going with Dean to a football match. Anne had known neither of the pair well. Dean Thomas had been a year older, a boy, and in another House; she'd seem him only at DA meetings. Katie Bell, too, she'd seen only here or the few times she'd watched Quidditch matches. They hadn't been friends, but they had been...comrades, maybe, even if it sounded odd. Theo had grumbled afterwards that it had been "a waste of time", but Anne knew he didn't mean it.

There had been a definite shift in attitude towards Theo, as well. Of course, he was still a Slytherin, but people like Zacharias Smith who had spent the past year making dark insinuations about why he was really there had been left stumped. Theo hadn't told anyone the details. Neither had Anne. Terry probably hadn't, although no-one had told her not to and Terry firmly believed in the importance of openness and honesty with the general public. (Anne thought she should be a reporter.) But despite everything, everybody knew that Theodore Nott had run away from home, rather than become a Death Eater, that his fellow Slytherins were on the warpath, and that, who'd have thought it, he might be all right after all.

Naturally, this translated into a desire for details. Theo used ambiguity like a sword, neatly parrying every inquiry. Even Lavender Brown tired of it after countless murmured repetitions of "Did they really say that?", "Rumour exaggerates", and "I see." It was just in time, too. Anne could sense irritation rolling off Theo in waves, and it was only matter of time before he left off defending and went on the attack. She was honestly surprised he hadn't.

Theo's stubborn silence meant that the line of attack was shifted, and the next logical target was Anne herself. She avoided people at the DA by being herself. In a room full of loud, enthusiastic students with an excuse to throw hexes at each other, one quiet Hufflepuff could be ignored with ease. As long as she slipped off quickly at the end, there was little chance for her to be cornered. The only time she had to resort to Theo's tactics was in Charms.

"Do you know why Theodore Nott decided he wasn't going to be a Death Eater?" Ginny Weasley asked her from the next table. Anne had been listening to the Gryffindors' conversation with a growing wish to move seats. Ginny didn't mean harm, but that didn't mean Anne wanted to answer her.

"I think you'd have to talk to him about that," Anne said diplomatically. "It wasn't very much to do with me."

"It wasn't?" Ginny looked surprised. "Most people would have said so."

"People say a lot of things," Anne said, shrugging. "Sometimes events are just what they seem to be."

"Ah, but that's so boring." Ginny grinned. "Nott having a change of heart doesn't make a good story. Nott deciding he won't be a Death Eater because he's fallen in love with a Muggle-born, that's what people want to hear."

Anne felt Ellie, next to her, swiveling around at those words, and did the only thing possible. She smiled wryly. "That would be a good story, if it was true." Which it isn't...not like that, not really.

Ginny regarded her with some amusement.

"I thought you two -"

"Well, yes," Anne admitted, clearing her throat, "but for goodness' sake..." She met Ginny's eyes. "That muddles cause and effect up entirely. Theodore Nott had no intention of being a Death Eater long before he ever knew I existed, or he wouldn't have known I existed. And I'd really better get on with my work."

Thankfully, Ginny just gave a shrug, and a small smile. "Oh, I know all about rumours. Some stories seem to write themselves."

There was a strangled yelp from Ellie, and Anne shielded her eyes as smoke rose from the desk in front of them.

"Oops," Ellie said weakly. The teaspoon she had been trying to make dance was a twisted, blackened hoop.

"Miss Johnston!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "There is really no need to force the spell. Take your time..."

Anne bit her lip, trying not to smile. Thank you, Ellie, for diversions.

She was still trying not to giggle. Theo...her mind shied away from using the words Theo and love in the same sentence, but avoid that little problem, and the whole idea was truly ridiculous. Anne didn't know where to begin defining the complex mix of emotions, responsibilities, and conscience that had led Theo to where he now was. She suspected Theo didn't, either, and that was half the problem. Ideology was a source of comfort when you made hard decisions. Theo lacked ideology, lacked romantic motives, and lacked - well, lacked enough ego to override his feelings for his family. What he was left with was a mix of horror, stubborn self-interest, rebelliousness, and a nebulous feeling that he was doing the right thing. Plus whatever she was. But Ginny's summation was over-simplified.

Theo did what he did for himself, not for me. For far more reasons than one. Maybe all stories are like that. Forgetting all the other reasons people did things, and choosing the most interesting.

Anne just hoped that Theo's myriad reasons were enough to pull him through the consequences. Because she, by herself, would not be. I've never been able to make it better for Theo. I've just been able to help him make it better for himself.

I hope he can still do that. Otherwise...

...otherwise, was his choice even worth it?

Anne wasn't sure.

*

Seventh year was different from the others, Theo reflected. Apart from the obvious changes (being cut off from his family, etcetera) classes were markedly smaller and harder than previous years. Teachers thundered about N.E.W.T.s and their importance to the rest of your life. They also gave you more homework than was humanly possible to do. Five subjects more than filled up the work of the ten of third year (had that even been possible? Ten subjects?) The few insane people like Granger or Goldstein who were taking six definitely needed their heads examined.

The hardest change was knowing who to talk to in class. That had hit him like a brick when he'd walked into History of Magic, the first day back, and sat down next to Daphne Greengrass (the only other Slytherin in the class). Looking back, he hadn't been thinking; it was an instinct born of the six years during which he had sat with Slytherins and only Slytherins. Daphne hadn't even said anything. She'd just got up and walked across the classroom to another seat.

Oh, yes, they were all seventeen and mature now (they must be, in this war, you couldn't not be, could you?) Theo was above that sort of childish behaviour, Daphne had never been a real friend or anything, he didn't care, but it hurt. Theo thought of himself as a very independent person, but that didn't mean he wanted to be an outcast. Anne was all right - she could still be seen hovering around her friends, not as involved as they were, but...in the right place. Theo had no right place anymore. Maybe it had never been his place, maybe he'd just been pretending. Whichever it was, on top of the mess that was the rest of his life at the moment - Theo, for the first time since he'd run into Anne, was...well, lonely.

He told her that one Saturday in late September. Being able to say hello in the corridors was all well and good, but time by themselves was to be treasured. And music. Always music.

"How are your classes going?" Anne asked as she wrestled with her flute. She was trying to disassemble it, but it wasn't being very co-operative. "Argh. Stupid thing. I knew I should have greased it earlier. No one's tried to murder you in your sleep yet?"

"They're not talking to me," Theo said flatly. "None of them are talking to me." He shut his music folder with more force than he'd intended.

Anne laid the flute on the table, shaking out her wrists. "It's a problem?"

"What do you think?" Theo snapped.

She shrugged, picking the flute up again. "I wasn't sure, to be honest. You - I'm assuming "they" are your fellow Slytherins, well, I've never got the impression that you were very close to any of them. So I don't know if it would matter. But it does."

Theo leaned forward on his elbows. "Just...imagine this. Everyone in your year, in your House, is not talking to you. They talk about you, they do their damndest to make your life difficult, they whisper and stare, but they don't talk to you. They won't sit next to you in class. They won't sit next to you at meals. They pretty much won't acknowledge your existence. About three other people in your House will, but they're all first-years or almost as ostracised themselves. Everybody in other Houses doesn't know what to say, because the rules have all changed. That would be a summary of my life at the moment. So, actually, living hell would be the closest approximation. Does that answer your question?"

"Ah!" Anne held up the parts of her flute in triumph.

"Are you even listening?"

She packed them away carefully in their case before she answered. Theo watched the brisk, precise movements of her hands; she must have done that hundreds, thousands of times by now. He remembered reading somewhere, sometime, that the name Anne meant "graceful"; Anne herself was not an extraordinarily graceful person, just a short fair-haired girl, but it was there when she played music, there when she held her flute. Theo loved that about music. It lent you a dignity and beauty that you, yourself, could never hope to achieve.

It was something of a surprise when Anne told him to move over, so she could sit down on the piano stool.

"There's not much I can do, is there," she said in matter-of-fact tones. No - glum was more like it. "And it's the worst thing they could do, isn't it?"

"The worst thing?" Theo blinked. "There are lots of worse things they can do. It's not fun, but at least they're staying off my back. I can be grateful for that."

"You shouldn't have to be grateful for being ignored! Or no - that's not right. Being ignored is what we do. We do it very well, I think." She leaned back against the piano, staring at nothing. "I don't know. Is it a good thing?"

"Don't ask me that. But there is a difference, you're right. A very significant one."

"Isn't there just. If everyone in my year actually wouldn't speak to me - Theo, how do you cope?"

Theo considered it, for a moment. "I don't think I am coping with it very well."

"Oh." Anne shook her head. "You could - have you written to your aunt and uncle, yet? I mean the O'Neills."

Theo tried to remember. "Er...no. No, I haven't. I should, shouldn't I?"

"I think it would be polite. And...maybe...you wrote to your dad, didn't you? I know it's not the same," she added quickly, "but at least it's connection, or, or something. It's a start."

Having someone outside of Hogwarts' closed world again - yes, that would be a start. More than a start.

"I'll do that, then."

"Good." She paused. "You could try talking to people, as well."

"I talk to lots of people!"

Anne snorted. "Theo, nobody is going to accuse either of us of being extroverts, but I can count on one hand the people you have regular conversations with. Me. Terry. Who else?"

"Well, I talk to people in the DA, and, and the teachers, and I've talked to your friends once or twice, and I talk to people in my House - okay, no I don't anymore, but - I do talk."

Maybe if he just put his arm around her, and maybe they wouldn't have to keep talking about -

Anne allowed the arm, but gave him a warning look. "This is a conversation."

"I know that."

"Keep it in mind. Theo, can I suggest something?"

"Would you stop if I said no?"

She smiled in acknowledgement. "Nobody in your House will sit next to you, but have you tried sitting with, I don't know, some of the DA?"

"Why would I do that?" Theo said, utterly confused.

"Because you just said you hate your life because you're by yourself in class. People like Ernie Macmillan or Terry Boot aren't going to send you packing."

"I don't have any classes with Terry Boot," Theo objected.

"It was a hypothetical example. Anyway. Try it. It can't make things worse."

"But they...I..." Theo struggled to articulate the obvious, instinctual objections. "They're not in my House."

Anne gave him a very...objective look. "You're such a - a pure-blood sometimes, do you know that?"

"That has nothing to do with -"

"It has everything to do with it. I don't mean about the war and all that, I mean about how you think. Maybe pure-blood isn't the right word. You just think like someone who was brought up in the Wizarding world."

"Because, just possibly, I was?"

"It's just interesting, that's all. So, will you give it a go?"

Theo hedged. "Maybe."

Anne evidently decided that she'd have to settle for maybe. Which she would. "All right, then."

"Besides," Theo added, "you'll still be talking to me, won't you?"

"As long as you're still talking to me," Anne joked. "A considerably more worrying thought."

"Don't be ridiculous," Theo said scathingly. "Why would I do that?"

"You never know." It would have been worrying if she hadn't been smiling. And, Theo supposed, she was a much nicer person than him.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire, first," he told her, and immediately remembered the rest of the verse.

"You and your Shakespeare." Anne rolled her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Find it for yourself," Theo hedged quickly. "Think of it as educational."

"You're not even going to tell me which play?"

"Hamlet." Which was the longest, and hopefully she'd forget and not look. Hopefully.

"Fine, then." She shook her head. "I never should have told you about Shakespeare, you know."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

As I should well know.

*

Theo had Charms the next day, with the very people he'd been talking to Anne about. It was a long way from the History of Magic classroom to Charms, and most of the class was there by the time he arrived. He began to walk over to an empty seat, away from anyone else. Away from the Slytherins. Then he hesitated.

Maybe...he had nothing to lose, did he?

There was an empty seat next to Justin Finch-Fletchley. The rest of the Hufflepuffs were already there, so it wasn't as if he'd be taking someone else's place. Theo decided not to bother with asking. It was an invitation to be rejected.

"Morning," he said, setting his bag down beside the desk. "You got here quickly."

Finch-Fletchley started. "Oh. Oh, Nott. We, uh, we took the shortcut up past the Muggle Studies classroom. It's a lot quicker."

"I wouldn't know; I've never really been in that part of Hogwarts." Theo pulled his Charms books out of his bag.

"Are we up to page sixty-four or sixty-five?" asked Megan Jones, in the seat ahead. "I can't remember."

"The Professor said we were skipping ahead to seventy and coming back to those other charms later," Macmillan offered. "Do you remember, Nott?"

It was Theo's turn to start. "Yes. Yes, he did."

"What brings you to this part of the world, then?" Macmillan inquired jovially. It was a joke. At least, Theo thought so.

"A change is as good as a holiday," Theo said ambiguously.

"And none of your own House talking to you." Susan Bones sniffed. "It's ridiculous."

Theo paused. "You noticed?"

"Of course we did. It shouldn't be allowed."

"Don't start saying that. Sounds like something Umbridge would say." Finch-Fletchley shivered theatrically. "Last thing we need is someone like her back."

"You can say that again," muttered Theo.

"The Professor's here," called Macmillan, and Flitwick's voice piped up from the back of the class. "Books out already? Very good. No, Mr. Malfoy, you won't be needing your wand for the first part of the lesson. Page seventy, please, everyone."

Theo rolled his eyes - theoretical Charms was never half the fun of practical - and caught Bones with exactly the same expression.

Maybe...just possibly, not making any judgements yet...Anne could have a point.

*

"Theodore Nott was looking for you, earlier," Ellie informed Anne as she sat down at one of the common room tables. She'd been on the point of starting her homework before remembering she'd left her Arithmancy textbook in the dormitory. "He asked us where you were just before dinner."

"Did he say why?" Anne asked.

"No, just wanted to know where you'd be after dinner." Ellie flipped a page.

"Did you tell him I was coming back here to do my homework?" Anne paused on the point of getting a quill out of her bag. She could always go and find Theo in the library - he did most of his homework there, nowadays, claiming the Slytherin common room was too uncomfortable - but then they'd talk, and she wouldn't get as much work done, and -

"Aren't you going to the library?" Ellie frowned. "Sarah said you were."

"I wasn't planning on it, but if Theo thinks I'm going to be - why would Sarah say that? I was telling her at lunch that I was going to have a solid homework night."

Ellie shrugged uncomfortably. "I think...I know. She knew that."

"Then why -"

"Look, Anne..." Ellie twisted the corner of the page with her fingers, lowering her voice. "Your friends are your choice, and I don't mind. I won't say I like it, but I'll live with it."

"You think Sarah won't." It wasn't a question, though Anne wished it were.

"I think..." Ellie noticed what she was doing, and tried to smooth the crumpled page. "Gabby just sees gossip; Mai thinks it's your funeral; Sarah thinks you don't know what you're doing. She's going all Prefect on us."

"But there's no reason for her to do that."

"Plenty of reason." Ellie smiled tightly. "She thinks we all need mothering, she thinks you're doing something daft, she had a crush on Gerald Cameron last year, and he was in Slytherin. Sarah holds grudges."

"Sarah wouldn't do that," Anne said in disbelief. "What does she think - Theo and I will never speak to each other again because he went to the library and I didn't turn up? Or was that just an opening salvo?"

"I don't know." Ellie seemed to hunch over her books. "It's not important, really. I'm probably letting my imagination run overtime. We need to work."

Anne stood up. "I'm going to the library."

Ellie looked up in confusion. "But you just said -"

"If Theo wants to speak to me, I'd quite like to know why." Anne paused, shifting the books in her arm. "If the others show up...never mind."

Ellie sighed. "Why do you have to do this?"

"I'm not - it's not anything - why is it - oh, there's no point. I'll be back later. See you."

"See you," Ellie agreed, but her expression was troubled.

Anne nearly walked into Sarah and Gabby as she left the common room. Gabby said hi in her normal tones, but Sarah looked surprised.

"Anne, I thought you were staying in here tonight."

"Well, I was going to, but I need to look up something in the library." Anne shrugged. "You know how it is. Do you want to come?"

"Er...no, no, I think I'll get more work done in here," Sarah said. She frowned. "I'll see you later, then."

"Sure," Anne agreed, and walked on. No point in feeling guilty. If Sarah realised she was labouring in vain, she'd give up.

She had to.

*

By the time she'd got to the library, she'd worked herself into quite a temper over Sarah's machinations. Perhaps she was misconstruing the whole thing, or Ellie was, but it fitted exactly into Sarah's personality. She probably thought it was all for Anne's own good, too. Or maybe - there was no point to getting worked up about it. There wasn't, but that didn't cut any ice with the little voice in Anne's head which was busy listing things to say to Sarah when she got a chance.

Theo looked up when she found him. It wasn't as if slamming her books down on the table was a move designed to avoid attention, after all.

"Your friend said you were coming here after dinner. Are - what's wrong?"

Anne pulled out a chair and sat down. She was not glowering. She didn't have any reason to be mad at Theo -

She sighed, and put her head in her hands. "You were misinformed. I told her I was going to the common room after dinner. What I'm trying to work out is why you were misinformed."

Theo blinked. "Why are you here, then?"

"So you can help me work out why Sarah would tell you I was going to be here if she knew I wasn't."

Theo gave her a look that strongly suggested she calm down. "Because she made a mistake?"

"You're the Slytherin. I would like that interpretation to be true, but it isn't."

"In terms of trying to create a disagreement, that's a pretty stupid way to go about it. It doesn't make sense."

Anne began to lay her books out. She might as well pretend to get some work done. "It doesn't...wait. No, it doesn't, but it doesn't have to."

"Neither does that," Theo pointed out dryly.

"I mean it only has to make sense to Sarah, not to us. And from Sarah's point of view, it does make sense."

"Good for her. It still doesn't seem worth worrying about."

"It is for me. It's...not usual." Anne gestured, unable to find the right words. "I'm not used to people doing things like that."

Theo shrugged. "You wouldn't have liked Slytherin much, then. Half the House are always at some sort of power game. This doesn't compare."

"No, you see..." Theo didn't have her advantage of knowing Sarah, but surely he could grasp the logic "Sarah likes to look after us, and if she's decided that me knowing you is bad for me, she'll try to do something. Hufflepuff loyalties, you know." Anne tried to modulate the bitterness in her voice. "She's...Sarah gets very possessive, and, well, paranoid, really. If her boyfriend wasn't where she'd been told he would be, it would start a fight. That's why. I just wish she wouldn't try to decide what's best for us all the time."

Theo nodded, slowly. "But if you know, you can avoid it."

"I don't want to have to. And I don't want to have it out with her, either, because...oh, I probably am making mountains out of molehills. It's not worth it."

"You know best about your friends. I won't even pretend to understand them," Theo said dryly.

"I won't, either," Anne told him. She didn't feel better, precisely, but at least she knew where she stood. "Why were you asking about me, anyway?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot. I...never mind, you probably need to finish your homework. So do I, come to that." He waved vaguely at her books.

"I do, but what was it?"

Theo looked abashed. "I'm trying - I'm trying to write a letter to the O'Neills, but...I have no idea where to start. I thought you could help."

"You're good at writing letters."

"Not this sort." He smiled wryly. "I can write to you, and I can...construct letters to my father. I could, anyway. But I was always trying to - to say what I needed to be seen to be saying. I've forgotten how to write when I'm just, you know, writing."

"Um...say hello. Ask them how they are. Ask after your cousins. Tell them about school. Tell them about the DA. You know, just normal things."

Theo frowned. "Do you think they'll even want to hear about...those sort of things?"

"They asked you to write, didn't they?"

"Yes, but..."

Anne wasn't sure whether Theo meant that, or whether he just didn't want to write letters. She doubted it was because he hadn't liked the O'Neills. He'd spoken of his time there with some enthusiasm. "But?"

He shrugged. "Never mind, then. It wasn't really that important."

"If you say so," Anne agreed. She had no idea where to go from here, so there was no point continuing. But she still thought he should try.

Clearly she'd been unfair, because when she looked up half an hour later Theo was staring at a half-covered piece of parchment. He was absorbed enough to be ignoring entirely the very loud group of second-years at the next table. Not that they were going to get away with that for much longer - Anne could see Madam Pince striding towards them, looking even more testy than usual.

"What are you writing?" Anne asked.

"Letter," Theo said briefly, attention still on the parchment. "Do you think that's long enough?"

"Is there anything else you want to say?"

"Not really. I'm not sure. I don't know...how much is right to say, I suppose."

Because, Anne realised suddenly, you would really like these relatives, but they're a skeleton in the closet, so you're not sure, and you're not sure if they want you as a nephew, and walking away from your family is bad enough without feeling like you're replacing them...

"Just send it," Anne said. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"Death Eaters find the letter and go and murder them," Theo said gloomily.

Anne paused. "Oh. Yes."

"And I can't do very much about that. Because there are spells for warding letters, but I don't know them. Or - we're in a library."

Anne bit back a smile. "Yes, I do believe we are."

"Excuse me, I'll be right back." Theo pushed back his chair and stood, looking much happier.

"Right back" turned out to mean Theo reappearing ten minutes later with a heavy book bound in red leather and quantities of dust.

"Is that what you were looking for?"

"I think so." Theo put it down carefully, and shook out his wrists. "I'll say this for your Muggle books, they don't break your arms."

"The equivalents to that sort of thing probably do. What is it?"

"Warding spells," Theo said happily. "Lots of them. There's a whole cache of them down the far left corner, Macmillan pointed it out to me."

"Good," Anne murmured. Ernie Macmillan? And Theo hadn't been looking quite so harassed tonight...maybe he'd listened. "Oh, no!"

"Hm?" Theo looked up sharply.

"Time," she said, scrabbling her things together. "It was curfew five minutes ago. See you Saturday?"

"Or around," Theo agreed. "Anne - take care."

"And you," Anne said wryly.

"Literally." He lowered his voice. "Blaise and Daphne - Slytherins - they're sitting near the door. They've been shooting me some nasty looks. Are you sure you don't want me to, uh, walk you back, or, or something?"

Anne stole a nervous glance over her shoulder. There they were, by the door, and -

"No. No, I'll be fine. Anyway," she smiled, "I couldn't possibly let you know where our common room is."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Down past the kitchens behind the forest and lake tapestry, I know."

"How -"

He just smirked.

Anne shook her head. "Huh. We'll have to move, then. Seriously - what are they going to do?"

"Nothing. Nothing," Theo said, too rapidly. "Just...never mind. See you."

"See you," Anne said, remembered curfew, and took to her heels. She only got the briefest of glances at the two Slytherins by the door as she passed them, but they were certainly looking at her. In a distinctly...assessing way.

She ran faster.