Chapter Text
Against her better judgement, Hermione found herself in the clearing on the cliffside for her official second lesson with Theo, although she wasn’t totally sure she had actually learned anything from him during their first “lesson”, all he had done was manage to scare the shit out of her and embarrass her beyond comprehension in a single night. She grimaced at the memory, not really sure of which experience was worse. She briefly considered obliviating him, she had a knack for memory charms she thought with a dry humorless laugh.
He had been waiting for her, as he always seemed to be. The boy was punctual she had to give him that. When she had walked into the clearing, he had been conjuring some training dummies and positioning them strategically around the clearing, creating a semi-circle of training targets. He was wearing a similar outfit as he had for their first training session, but this time his shirt was black, which accentuated his olive skin in the moonlight, and Hermione had to remind herself not to stare.
As soon as she had entered the clearing, he turned his head in her direction, even though she was a good 20 to 30 yards away; he always seemed to have the jump on her, and Hermione couldn’t understand how.
Seeming to read her mind, his gaze shifted to her feet. “You need to learn to be lighter on your feet, I can hear you crunching through the fallen leaves from a mile away”.
Hermione raised a brow at him while crossing the space between them, “Not all of us took death eater 101 in sixth year” she snapped back, crossing her arms in annoyance and rolling her eyes, her patience wearing thin.
She was surprised by her own gall; the response had slipped out before she had time to consider it. She ordinarily would have never said anything so bold, especially to someone who could probably Avada her without even blinking an eye, perhaps her excessive levels of humiliation the other night had short circuited her pregenual anterior cingulate cortex, the part of the brain responsible for feelings of shame or embarrassment.
But instead of looking angry, Theo barked out a laugh instead, catching Hermione off guard.
“Didn’t that feel good?” he asked her.
“What did?” she responded, slightly nervous.
“Speaking your mind” he stated simply, like it should have been obvious.
“I always speak my mind!” Hermione defended, crossing her arms.
“No, you don’t. You speak only what you think is acceptable or appropriate, you get too hung up on being nice” Theo threw back at her, his tone dripping with judgement.
“You can still speak your mind without discarding other people’s feelings” she defended.
“Not really” he interjected, “and think about it, really think about it, when is the last time you said something you truly mean, without fear of what others will think?” he added when he saw the dubious expression on her face.
Hermione opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out as she racked her brain, trying to prove him wrong. Her whole life she had put a lot of stock in civil niceties; other than knocking over Trelawny’s crystal ball in third year, she had always made a point of not rocking the boat. Her mouth snapped shut.
Theo snorted, only irritating Hermione even further.
“You act like it’s a bad thing to care about people’s perceptions of you” she shot back, sticking a finger into his chest. “Not giving a shit sounds like a ball until your middle aged with no career and alone”.
“At least I’ll be alive” he responded, lowering his face towards hers, his anger radiating off him in waves. She had clearly hit a nerve.
“Some would say that staying alive is only worth it If there is something to live for” she responded, her own anger apparent, in full argument mode.
“Yeah? Like your friends?” he taunted, his mouth curling up into a cruel smirk.
“Don’t” Hermione defended, vehemently nodding her head no.
“Where are they Granger?” he asked in mock confusion.
“You wouldn’t understand- “
“What is there to understand?” he interrupted. “They aren’t here, but you are. I may not know where they are, or what they are doing, but I do know that they left you behind, and I know it wasn’t your choice, because I can see it bothers you.”
“Stop” she choked out, starting to back away, but he pushed forward.
“I can see their betrayal written all over your face. But instead of getting mad, you let grief consume you, define you. Poor Granger, left behind by her closest confidants, forced to spend her seventh year in the company of a big bad death eater. Consider yourself lucky that that’s your only cross to bear, at least at the end of the term you’ll be able to board the Hogwarts express and go cry to mummy and daddy about it- “
She raised her hand instinctively, the sound of her palm hitting his cheek echoing around them.
She wasn’t sure who was more shocked, him or her. Her hand stung from the impact, and she could see the faint red outline of her palm print blooming on his face.
But what shocked her more than her own actions was the smile that formed on his face.
“Good” he stated. “Hold on to that anger, you are going to need that”.
“Um, need it for what?” she responded, feeling severely whiplashed from the 180 the conversation had taken.
“For today’s lesson” he responded, gesturing to the surrounding training dummies with his hands.
“What does anger have to do with it?” she asked warily.
“Tsk tsk, I know your smarter than that Granger” he shamed in faux disappointment.
She paused for a second, holding eye contact with him; she had known the answer long before she had entered the clearing, but she was stalling. She couldn’t help herself; she was nervous. Not only was she going against everything she ever believed in, but she was actively taking part in something that, if ever to see the light of day, would effectively have her shunned by anyone she ever cared about.
“Dark magic” she mumbled.
He tilted his head downwards, looking up at her through his eyelashes and confirmed her theory with his darkened gaze, the corners of his mouth turning up in a devilish smile.
“And why does one need to feel extreme emotions such as anger to practice dark magic?” he quizzed.
“Because you have to mean it” she whispered, anxiety creeping down her spine. Moody had drilled this lesson into them during their 5th year. She could still remember the horror she had felt watching him use the three unforgivable curses, even on a bug, and wondered how she would feel learning them, using them.
“10 points to Gryffindor” he said darkly.
“So, what now?” she asked, shifting nervously on her feet.
“We’re going to start with the very basics. What year did you learn to basic cast?” he asked.
“1st year, and I haven’t forgotten how, if that’s what your about to insinuate” she snapped.
Theo only rolled his eyes and ushered her over to the semi-circle of training dummy’s.
“What are the pros and cons of using a basic cast?” he quizzed, staring down at her.
“The pro is that a basic cast is fast, you don’t need to use an incantation. The con is that it doesn’t deal much damage and is easily blocked” she spouted out without even having to think about it. She had known that answer since her first day at Hogwarts.
Theo nodded in confirmation and pointed towards the closest training dummy. “Blast the dummy to pieces with basic casts only” he instructed.
Hermione frowned, unless this was a particularly fragile training dummy, she didn’t think that a basic cast was powerful enough to disintegrate it, and she had already made it known that she knew how to basic cast, she wasn’t a bloody first year, what was he getting at?
Hermione trained her wand on the dummy and focused her magic on her target, feeling a jolt as the wand siphoned her magic into a bolt of red sparks that hit the dummy square in the chest. But little to her surprise, the dummy had a faint scorch mark where the concentrated magic had hit but was none the worse for wear.
She dropped her wand arm to her side, trying not to let the disappointment sour her mood more than it already was. “Are you going somewhere with this?” she asked impatiently.
Theo ignored her and instead walked up behind her, lifting her wand arm up again to point at the dummy. She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine at his touch, and she had to resist the urge to look up at him. She always felt in control of her actions until he invaded her personal space like this, and then suddenly, she couldn’t think clearly anymore.
“Try again, but instead of just focusing on channeling your magic, I want to you to channel your anger as well” he instructed in her ear, his own eyes trained on the target as well from over her shoulder. His voice tickled the baby hairs on the back of her neck, and she shuddered involuntarily, praying that he hadn’t noticed.
She followed Theo’s instructions and looked at the dummy in front of her, letting all her anger float to the forefront of her mind before shooting another basic cast, but was disappointed to find a nearly identical scorch mark was the only evidence of her second attempt.
She went to lower her arm again, but Theo snaked his own up and held hers in place. Then his voice was in her ear, low and commanding.
“Don’t just feel your angry thoughts, visualize them. Visualize your anger flowing through you, flowing through your wand. Picture your target as someone who has hurt you, wronged you. Make it personal. All the anger, hurt, betrayal that you have felt in your entire lifetime, imagine it as a physical mass, and thing you can control, and expel it away from you”.
His voice in her ear was like a drug, his low baritone caressing her skin the same way his hands had not that long ago, sending waves of warmth straight to her naval. She focused her gaze on the dummy once again, and racked her brain for people who made her angry. There was no shortage of faces in her mind; Voldemort, Draco, Snape, the possibilities were endless, but was surprised to find that the dummy in front of her had taken the shape of Ron in her mind’s eye. She supposed it made sense, the betrayal of her friends had been eating at her for weeks, and while her anger towards Voldemort felt more like a concept, something that after experiencing for 7 years, had become a part of her, but her anger towards her friends who had left her behind was something palpable, something fresh and raw that refused to heal.
She pointed her wand directly at Ron’s face as he leveled her with a confused gaze, and she let all the feelings and unsaid truths pool into a physical mass inside of her, she pictured it, a writhing ball of hate, betrayal, jealousy, every passing frustration she had ever felt towards him. She pictured it flowing up through her, up chest and down her arms, black like tar pumping through her veins and into her wand. She could see it; she could feel it. And then she released it, just like Theo had instructed.
This time, instead of red sparks, a black mass that was neither a gas, liquid, nor solid shot out of her wand, colliding with the training dummy like a cannon, splintering it into oblivion. The sight would have floored Hermione, but she was distracted; lost in a Euphoric cloud. The release of all that emotion was flooding her with a new sensation, like all the pleasure centers in her brain had kicked into overdrive. Hermione had never tried Heroin, but she imagined this is what it must feel like. She had to bite her lip not to moan out loud as she was flooded with endorphins. For the first time in her life, she could understand why people get lost in the dark arts.
Through her haze, she could feel Theo chuckling behind her. She looked up at him and met his gaze as he looked down at her from over her shoulder. They were so close, and the warmth of his chest against her back felt so comforting, like curling up next to a warm fire. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared into his dark eyes, his pupils were blown, and she imagined hers probably were too.
“Does it always feel this good?” she asked him.
He arched a brow at her and looked down at their touching bodies, and she thwacked him with her palm against his shoulder.
“You know what I mean Nott” she scolded, unable to help the giggle that escaped her lips. She felt drunk
“It depends, the angrier you are, the more cathartic the release. And I must say, if that blast was any indication, you have a lot of anger you are either not addressing or are in denial about Granger” he said, unable to mask the surprise on his face.
Hermione nodded, neither confirming nor denying his statement. What he said made sense, and normally she would love nothing more to dissect the information and learn everything she could about the why, but all she could think about was the itching that was beginning in her fingertips for more.
His sharp gaze caught the subtle movement of her fingers twitching, and he stared at them for a moment before lifting his eyes back up to meet her own once again.
“You feel it don’t you?” he whispered.
“Feel what?” she whispered back, too focused on the itching in her fingertips to even notice his attention had shifted.
“The pull” he responded, an edge of excitement creeping into his tone. He grasped her hand in his own, preventing anymore twitching. The pull of dark magic, she had heard the phrase before.
She stared at her hand in his own, almost entirely positive that it hadn’t felt nearly this good the last time he had held her hand. She could feel his warmth all the way through her skin, and the subtle hammering of his heartbeat beneath his own. Did the use of dark magic heighten one’s senses as well? She would have to ask him when they weren’t in such a compromising position.
“How do you not get lost in it?” she asked airily.
“You find something that grounds you, and you hold onto it for dear life”
“And what grounds you?” she whispered, meeting his eyes again.
“I’m not sure anymore” he said dazedly, his eyes darting around her face like he was searching for something.
And then she was kissing him, and it was so much better than the first time. His lips felt like fire against her own, and every touch against her skin radiated through her body like it never had before. The use of dark magic definitely increased sensitivity.
He grabbed at her waist, twisting her to face him and pulling her body against his. Oh god how she had missed this. She had been on edge ever since that night, doing everything she could to deny how much she wanted him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself as close to him as she possibly could, and he bent down, hooked his arms around her thighs, and lifted her up to his height. She could feel every inch of his hard body beneath hers and she moaned into his mouth, which Theo used as an opportunity to slip his tongue into hers.
She felt the sickening tug at her navel that signified that they were apparating, and when she pulled back from Theo to look at her surroundings, she realized they must be in his dorm back at the castle. The room looked identical to hers, except the color scheme was very obviously that of a proud Slytherin. He didn’t give her much time to adjust to her new surroundings before he walked forward, slamming her back into the wall of his dorm as he attacked her mouth with renewed vigor.
She whimpered at the impact of the wall on her back, loving the way he wasn’t afraid to be rough with her, and briefly wondered if that was a two-way street. She snaked her hand into his curly hair and tugged as hard as she could, pulling his head away from hers at a severe angle. She was rewarded with the most delicious growl that emanated from deep within his chest. Every sensation and sound seemed to vibrate through her, and she didn’t just feel him physically pressed against her, she could feel him, like an aura. It was intoxicating.
Theo pulled away just long enough to peel her shirt up and around her torso, and she eagerly lifted her arms to assist as he pulled it up and over her head, throwing it somewhere she couldn’t see on the floor of his room. The second her shirt left her body; his mouth was on her neck. He kissed every inch of skin, starting from right behind her ear, all the way down to her collar bone. She let her head flop to the side as she enjoyed the sensation from his lips against her throat but yelped when his teeth closed around the skin near her shoulder. She was going to protest but he was already kissing and licking over the spot that he had bit, and she couldn’t find the words anymore and found herself moaning instead.
Growing impatient, she started to tug at the shirt that was tucked into his belt but struggled to get a good grip. She felt strong hands slide over hers as he took over her attempts to free his shirt, and she watched with wide eyes as he lifted and pulled the shirt from his body. She never had the opportunity to admire his body the first time they slept together; the room had been too dark to make out details, and now she felt overwhelmed by the sheer perfection of what she was looking at. Tan, muscular, tall, and pressing her against the wall. Hell had officially frozen over, but it was hard to care when every single inch of her was on fire.
He must have been watching her staring, because he lifted her hands and placed them on his torso, silently giving her permission to explore him, which she wasted no time in doing so. She languidly dragged her hands up his abs and over his pectoral muscles, feeling the raw strength beneath. She gently grazed her fingertips over his nipples on her path up his body, and she noticed his skin erupt in goosebumps; he was enjoying this. She continued over his biceps, enjoying the way they curved in all the right places. She had never considered herself one to get hung up on looks, but Theo exuded masculinity in a way she couldn’t ignore. It was raw and unfiltered, and it flooded her with hormones that she could no longer control.
She dragged her arms down to his forearms and froze, having completely forgotten about his dark mark in her haze. She stared at it, confused, because this time she felt more than just fear, she felt something else that she couldn’t put her finger on, something that was stirring in her navel. It occurred to her, with mild horror, that what she was feeling was arousal. Did something about the danger of it excite her? The taboo-ness of it perhaps? She stared at the mark with renewed curiosity, the urge to run her hand over it taking control. She glanced up at him, he was staring down at her hands as they hovered near his mark, and he seemed to be holding his breath. Was he scared that she would turn him away? That she would remember why it made no sense for them to be half naked in his dorm room together? She guiltily realized that those thoughts hadcrossed her mind, but only for a split second.
She decided that this time she wasn’t going to let the nagging thoughts in the back of her mind sway her from doing what she really wanted. In this moment, she wanted this, she wanted him. So instead of running her hands along his dark mark, she pressed her lips to it instead, giving it an open mouth kiss as she trained her eyes on the man staring down at her. Their eyes connected for a second before he dropped his head back with a hiss, clearly enjoying the feeling of her lips on him.
The sound went straight to her cunt, and she moaned against his mark, and when Theo raised his head back up and met her gaze again, there was a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He snaked a hand in her hair and tightened it, and they just stared at each other for a moment, her mouth against his mark, his hand in her hair and a fire blazing in his eyes.
“Bed. Now.” He commanded with an edge of desperation in his voice. She just nodded, her own need rendering her speechless.
He hooked his arms back underneath her thighs, carried her over to his bed, and deposited her on, surprise surprise, emerald green sheets. The moment her back hit the soft mattress, he was tugging at her pants, pulling them down her legs with ease. Once they were off she wiggled to the edge of the bed and sat up, reaching for his belt as he stood in front of her. She wanted to try something, something she had only read about and heard other girls giggling about.
He watched her as she fiddled with his belt buckle, his expression stuck between curiosity and impatience. After a few embarrassing moments of her trying and failing to undo his metal belt buckle, he swatted her hand away and undid it himself in one fluid motion before pulling it through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a metallic thud. He dropped his hands to his sides again and let her take the lead once more, clearly invested in following through with whatever she intended on doing.
She gulped nervously, she was so far out of her comfort zone, she didn’t even know who this version of her was, but she wasn’t ashamed, only excited. She tentatively reached a hand out and unbuttoned his slacks and lowered the zipper, trying to conceal her surprise when his cock sprang free only inches from her face. She glanced up at Theo nervously, who was gazing down at her in amusement, but he was being good, he was letting her call the shots and move at her own pace while she explored, and it gave her the confidence to push forward. She had forgotten just how large he was, and she was once again trying to understand how he had fit inside of her.
Swallowing down her nervousness, she wrapped one of her hands around his shaft, and was rewarded with a groan from above her. Emboldened, she tried pumping her hand up and down, looking at him in amazement as his brows cinched together in what she assumed was pleasure. Every noise out of his mouth sent electricity straight to her pussy, and she knew she was soaking through her knickers.
Hermione took a deep breath and moved forward with the rest of her plan and stuck her tongue out, running it down the side of his cock, letting the tip of her tongue trace one of the veins. She felt him thread a hand into her hair, but he managed to keep his grip gentle. Something inside of her swelled, he was trying to be gentle, for her. She was at the mercy of a death eater, a killer, and he was entertaining her need to explore. Why did it make her feel so good? It made her want to be good for him, to reward him for his patience.
She experimentally swirled her tongue around the head of his penis, and his grip in her hair tightened slightly, sending another wave of slick to her cunt. She was starting to feel desperate, less interested in exploring; she wanted all of him, unfiltered and unyielding.
She looked up at him. “Please” she begged with pleading eyes.
He cradled her face and let his thumb rub up against her bottom lip gently, coaxing entry. “Please what?”
She opened her mouth for him, and he slipped his thumb inside, pressing down on her tongue.
“Please let go, for me” she whispered, closing her mouth around this thumb and applying the slightest bit of suction.
His pupils expanded at her words and her ministrations. Perhaps she was playing with fire, but she would enjoy every moment of it until it consumed her.
He retracted his thumb from her mouth, but positioned his prick in front of her lips before she had the chance to pout.
“Put your mouth on it again” he instructed, wrapping his free hand back in her hair, “I will guide you”.
She opened her mouth and let him guide the tip of his manhood past her lips.
“Kiss it” he commanded, and she did as she was told, closing her lips over the tip and giving it a wet opened mouth kiss. The groan that left his mouth sent jolts of electricity down her spine.
The hand in her hair tightened again, and he started applying pressure, slowly pressing her face forward as she inch by inch took in the length of his cock. Her lips stretched around his girth as he inserted himself deep inside of her mouth, and she fought the urge to gag as he neared the back of her throat.
He must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he paused for a moment. “Breathe” he instructed, using his other hand to stroke the side of her cheek in an almost loving manner.
Then he pushed forward, the tip of his cock slamming roughly into the back of her throat. She gagged around him, the contractions in her throat drawing him deeper in until she had fully swallowed him and her lips were resting against his pelvis.
“Good girl…” he praised, stroking her cheek that was stretched around the base of his cock before gently tugging back on her hair, pulling her off of his length. She coughed and gasped for air as she felt tears stream down her cheeks. She was mortified, she was so used to excelling at everything she put her mind to, but here she was, mascara most likely streaking down her face, snot threatening to drip from her nose, all because she couldn’t figure out how to give a proper blowjob.
She felt his hand snake under her chin and tilt her face up until she was looking at him. She burned with embarrassment as he took in the state of her face, his gaze traveling from her eyes to her lips, and to her chin glistening with spit. She expected him to give her a look of disgust, or to dismiss her, but his reaction was anything but.
“Perfect…” he muttered, more to himself that anyone. Hermione stared up at him, something stirring inside of her, something akin to pride. Something about the way he said it, she knew it was the truth. Once again she found herself wanting to be good, good for him.
She acted on instinct before her own insecurities could get in the way, and opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, a clear invitation for him to continue. Theo made a sound of approval, something between a growl and a groan that had Hermione dripping down her thighs. He used his hand threaded in her hair to guide her back into his cock, this time forgoing all niceties and bottoming himself out down her throat in one swift stroke.
Hermione gagged around him again, trying to breathe through her nose as he face-fucked her. She knew she should feel ashamed, or degraded, but all she felt was arousal. Hot, burning, blinding arousal.
Theo pulled out and she gasped for air, grasping at his muscular thighs to keep from collapsing. She looked up at him to see why he stopped, and the look in his eyes was enough to make her mouth water. He looked like a man possessed, his usually light eyes were dark with desire, and his mouth was slightly ajar as he panted.
He reached down and scooper her up, depositing her onto the center of the bed on her back before descending on her with a crushing kiss. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into her, relishing the feeling of his hard body on hers.
“Please” she panted into his mouth, and he understand what she was pleading for, because he immediately broke the kiss and leaned back on his knees, grasping at her underwear and pulling it down in one swift motion. She let her eyes droop half-mast as she watched him line himself up at her entrance, enjoying the way his muscles rippled every time he shifted.
“Are you ready?” he asked huskily, looking up at her with hungry eyes as he pushed apart her thighs, exposing her to him.
She nodded yes, trying to stay relaxed so that he could hopefully fit inside of her easier than their first time together. She felt him slowly entering her, and relief flooded through her as he slid in with only a small pinch, which she whimpered at.
He stroked her stomach as he peered down to their connected bodies, “so good” he cooed in a calming voice.
He began pumping in and out of her, slowly at first, but eventually building up to steady rhythm, and after a few minutes, he was pounding into her with abandon. She writhed and moaned beneath him, wishing she could feel this full all the time. Theo pressed a thumb to her clit, and suddenly she was seeing fireworks. She had touched herself a handful of times before, but nothing compared to this. His thumb was circling in tandem with his strokes inside of her, and she could feel pressure building in her lower abdomen. She began panting in earnest, grasping for anything she could reach, his sheets, his pillows, but nothing felt like enough. Following her intuition, she started grasping at her own breasts instead, palming them and pinching her own nipples. This, this is what she had needed. The feeling of him filling her with his cock, his ministrations on her clit, and the stimulation of her nipples was almost too much, she exploded around him with an orgasm so intense it felt like a bomb had gone off inside of her.
She let out a scream that sounded feral to her own ears, and her muscles clamped around his cock inside of her, drawing him in even farther. He groaned and his eyebrows cinched together as he collapsed forward, using his hands to hold himself up and he slammed into her, chasing his own release as she pulsed around his prick. His strokes were erratic, and his balls slapped against her violently with each thrust, filling the room with obscene noises.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he neared his own orgasm.
“Please cum inside of me” she begged him, meeting his gaze. His pupils expanded even more at her words, and his thrusts suddenly became jerky as he came with violent force. He moaned loudly as spurt after spurt of his hot cum filled her pussy. Surely this must be heaven Hermione thought to herself.
They both lay their painting, unmoving, trying to catch their breath, for quite some time. She was stilled splayed open, but she didn’t care, she was too caught up in the realization that her fingers had finally stopped itching.
Hermione knew everything was going to change now, she could feel it. Somehow this time had been different from the last, and she knew there was no going back. Something between them had shifted, like tectonic plates. She found peace in his violence, and something about her seemed to draw him in as well.
“No one can know” she panted.
He looked down at her, his face unreadable. “I know” he responded, nodding mostly to himself.
He pulled out of her, and she felt some of his release leak out of her and into his sheets, and she groaned at the sudden emptiness. He sat back against his headboard, absentmindedly stroking her hair.
A thought suddenly occurred to her. “How did you apparate inside of Hogwarts?”.
He laughed at the randomness of her question.
“Our headmaster is a death eater; he knows better than anyone that when the dark lord summons you…” he said, letting his sentence trail off.
She nodded, that made sense. “Does he call you often?” she asked, not really sure she wanted to know the answer.
He hesitated, probably debating how dangerous it was to divulge sensitive information like this.
“He used to summon us more… but now that Dumbledore is dead, his use for students has dwindled somewhat. I get summoned more than Draco because of my… unique talents”.
Hermione looked up at him, “talents plural? It’s not just legillimency?” she asked, her interest piqued.
Theo hesitated again, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Did you know that the Nott bloodline goes back over a thousand years?” he asked, and seeing the blank look on her face, he continued. “You can trace my family lineage back to 842 A.D., before the Hogwarts founders were even born. There is dark magic and blood magic that has been passed down from generation to generation that even the dark lord himself doesn’t know.”
At this point he was talking more to himself than Hermione, he seemed lost in his own thoughts.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that my father was the dark lords right hand man for many years, well, time hasn’t been kind to him. His age has slowed him down, made him vulnerable, less lethal. The dark lord isn’t sentimental, the only value he places in people is in what they can offer him, and the one thing my father has to offer, is quickly waning. The more incompetent my father becomes, the more valuable I become”.
Hermione stared at him in shock. She had never considered that Voldemort would view Theo as his father’s replacement. How much did Theo know that Voldemort would be grooming him at only 17 to be his right-hand man?
“I answered your question, now it’s your turn to answer one of mine” he stated, clearly trying to change the subject.
She thought about it for a moment, “Quid pro quo? A truth for a truth?”.
“Exactly” he nodded.
“Okay” she said slightly hesitantly.
“Your parents” he stated. It wasn’t a question. “I taunted you about your two best friends leaving you behind, but that’s not what made you snap was it?”. She could tell he already knew the answer to his own question, so she decided not to waste time beating around the bush and just tell him the truth. He had divulged information tonight that could be enough ammunition to royally fuck up his life, and it was only fair that she extend the same trust in return.
She took a deep breath, willing herself to be brave.
“I obliviated my parents” she murmured.
He stared at her, understanding blooming on his face.
“To protect them” he said, once again not a question.
She nodded solemnly.
“And it can’t be undone can it?” he asked.
“No” she responded simply, staring at the ceiling to keep the tears forming in the corners of her eyes from falling.
He was silent for a long time, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t like feeling weak, and this whole situation was making her uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry” he offered.
She nodded, there was nothing else to be said, and he knew that just as well as she did. He was familiar with loss.
Everything would be different now, she knew it as she put her clothes back on, and as she left his room, and as she slipped underneath the sheets of her own bed, so similar yet so different from the Slytherin green silk she had laid on only minutes earlier.
She had no idea what the future would hold, but she knew one thing; Theo had the potential to be the dark lords largest asset, but he also had the potential to be his biggest downfall. Voldemort’s blind spot was his own greed, and perhaps she could use that against him. Theo could be the weapon that The Order needed to tip the scales in their favor, but they would never go for it, not after the betrayal of Severus Snape. They would never trust another death eater.
Hermione knew she needed to do something, exactly what she wasn’t sure of, not yet anyway. Theo packed more firepower than she could have ever guessed, and he was part of a social circle that would get her closer to Voldemort than The Order ever would.
Whatever Hermione was going to do, she knew she would need to do it without The Order, they would only get in the way.
She was officially going rogue; dancing the line between light and dark to serve an ultimate purpose, with Theodore Nott, death eater and killer, by her side.