Fic: The Tragedies of Theodore Nott (Theodore Nott, OCs, PG)
Title: The Tragedies of Theodore Nott (as told by Cassandra Nott)
Author: quietliban
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers etc. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Summary: For some people tragedy is all they know.
Author's Notes: This was not what I had originally intended when I sat down and wrote this piece.
Feedback is love.
Mother died when I was eight and Theodore was five. Theodore had watched her as she tripped and tumbled, falling down the staircase with a series of cracks and cries. He watched her while standing still, not realising that once she stopped falling she wouldn’t be able to get up.
I remember her, and the crumpled heap that was her body that Saturday afternoon. I remember Theodore and Simon…Simon standing tall and strong at the top of the stairs. I remember the wide-eyed expression on Simon’s face. “It was an accident,” Simon had said. “It was an accident.”
I don’t think Father ever believed him. I don’t think I ever did either. Simon died when he was eighteen, I was thirteen and Theodore was ten. Theodore hadn’t been there, but I had; Father had. We brought Simon’s body home, wrapped up and covered with a cloak for a shroud. He had fallen from his broomstick. I had watched helpless and frozen in fear. Father had his wand out. I remember seeing Theodore crouching at the staircase railing, peering down at us and Simon’s body.
For me, Father died when I was seventeen and he was caught and sent to Azkaban. For Theodore, Father is still alive. Theodore is now sixteen going on seventeen.
Bellatrix Lestrange stands at our doorstep. Rabastan Lestrange stands at her shoulder. Bellatrix has her wand in her hand. I can tell by the expression on her face she is ready to call me traitor. Theodore stands in front of me. He calls her comrade and reaches out towards her, flashing his bare arm ready to deface.
“Did Father send you?” I can hear Theodore ask her. His voice is curious and calm. I cross my arms and step back. I have asked Theodore not to do this. I have asked him, begged and pleaded with him, but he says he has to. He says that if I won’t, he has to because Simon isn’t here anymore. I’ve told him that the Death Eaters aren’t the Knights of our childhood bedtime stories.
Bellatrix smiles at Theodore and I want grab him by the shoulders and draw him into the house. It isn’t safe outside; there are monsters in the dark. “And his father’s father,” she replies. I try not to sigh and draw attention to myself. Theodore steps towards her, and I know I’ve lost him.
Bellatrix turns to me. I stare impassively back at her. I tell myself I am not afraid.
“Cassandra?” she asks already knowing the answer.
I die when I am twenty and Theodore is sixteen. I have had a short and tragic life.
Author: quietliban
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers etc. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Summary: For some people tragedy is all they know.
Author's Notes: This was not what I had originally intended when I sat down and wrote this piece.
Feedback is love.
Mother died when I was eight and Theodore was five. Theodore had watched her as she tripped and tumbled, falling down the staircase with a series of cracks and cries. He watched her while standing still, not realising that once she stopped falling she wouldn’t be able to get up.
I remember her, and the crumpled heap that was her body that Saturday afternoon. I remember Theodore and Simon…Simon standing tall and strong at the top of the stairs. I remember the wide-eyed expression on Simon’s face. “It was an accident,” Simon had said. “It was an accident.”
I don’t think Father ever believed him. I don’t think I ever did either. Simon died when he was eighteen, I was thirteen and Theodore was ten. Theodore hadn’t been there, but I had; Father had. We brought Simon’s body home, wrapped up and covered with a cloak for a shroud. He had fallen from his broomstick. I had watched helpless and frozen in fear. Father had his wand out. I remember seeing Theodore crouching at the staircase railing, peering down at us and Simon’s body.
For me, Father died when I was seventeen and he was caught and sent to Azkaban. For Theodore, Father is still alive. Theodore is now sixteen going on seventeen.
Bellatrix Lestrange stands at our doorstep. Rabastan Lestrange stands at her shoulder. Bellatrix has her wand in her hand. I can tell by the expression on her face she is ready to call me traitor. Theodore stands in front of me. He calls her comrade and reaches out towards her, flashing his bare arm ready to deface.
“Did Father send you?” I can hear Theodore ask her. His voice is curious and calm. I cross my arms and step back. I have asked Theodore not to do this. I have asked him, begged and pleaded with him, but he says he has to. He says that if I won’t, he has to because Simon isn’t here anymore. I’ve told him that the Death Eaters aren’t the Knights of our childhood bedtime stories.
Bellatrix smiles at Theodore and I want grab him by the shoulders and draw him into the house. It isn’t safe outside; there are monsters in the dark. “And his father’s father,” she replies. I try not to sigh and draw attention to myself. Theodore steps towards her, and I know I’ve lost him.
Bellatrix turns to me. I stare impassively back at her. I tell myself I am not afraid.
“Cassandra?” she asks already knowing the answer.
I die when I am twenty and Theodore is sixteen. I have had a short and tragic life.