![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lomonaaerenTitle: Dark Prince of the Glass Court
Pairings: Mentions of Mr. Nott/Mrs. Nott and Voldemort/Lily, otherwise gen
Content Notes: AU after fifth year, angst, drama, references to child abuse and past character deaths, mentions of torture, present tense, Dark Arts
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Theo is surprised to learn that the Dark Lord has a son, and more surprised still to learn that he’s Theo’s classmate, Harry Potter. He never realized how much it would change his own world.
Author’s Notes: This story is part of my “Songs of the Stormy Season” series of short fics being posted between Halloween and the winter solstice. It’s Theo’s perspective on the events before, in, and surrounding my fic “Broken Glass Life,” about Harry being Voldemort’s life, and I recommend you read that one first. This one will have a second part, to be posted in a few days.
Dark Prince of the Glass Court
“Theo. What do you know about Harry Potter?”
Theo blinks at his father. Normally, they eat breakfast in silence, because Father is occupied with either the Prophet or one of his alchemy books. Theo doesn’t mind that, since he’s usually reading about Runes.
But now…
“Only what most people know,” Theo answers. “Gryffindor, Boy-Who-Lived, favored by the Gryffindor professors. Not taking Runes or Arithmancy. Always getting into some kind of trouble every year. Marked by the Dark Lord. Probably cheated to get into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but insisted that he didn’t. Castigated by the papers for lying this past year.” He shrugs. “What about him, Father?”
“He is the Dark Lord’s son.”
Theo chokes even though he doesn’t have anything in his throat. “What?” he wheezes, once his father shakes his head and casts the Anti-Choking Charm on him.
“Yes. I was surprised as well. But it seems that his mother was an Unspeakable who came to spy on the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord tried to seduce her to our side in more than one way. It does at least make some sense of why he could not kill the boy.”
Theo nods fervently. He’s never believed in the legend of Harry Potter, invincible Boy-Who-Lived, dragon-tamer and dueling champion at five years old if you read the books. The boy who came to school is shy and skinny and spends all his time with his two best friends. When he does get in trouble, it doesn’t seem to be something anyone knows the details of.
“The Dark Lord has asked me a number of questions about him.”
“So you wanted to know what I knew?”
“I think he is considering you for a member of the boy’s court, Theo.”
Theo does his best to mute his reaction, simply because that is the way one survives in Slytherin, but his father is sharp-eyed enough to notice it. Father nods and takes a sip of his tea. “I know that you would rather serve him than the Dark Lord.”
“To serve as a Death Eater would be a great honor.”
“But not one you want.”
Theo grimaces. Although his father has good Occlumency shields, he will not try to keep this exchange from the Dark Lord, and that means that Theo will be able to suffer Merlin knows what punishment.
“You would have done your duty, I know. But your temperament is different from mine.” This is the first time Father has managed to say that without its sounding like a criticism. “So you will serve in the Dark Prince’s court, instead.”
“Is that what they’re calling him?”
“It is a name that I have adopted because, at the moment, even the Dark Lord seems uncertain. He is not entitled to the last name Potter, and yet a member of such a prestigious bloodline can hardly go by his first one alone.”
Theo nods. He’s skeptical that the Harry Potter he remembers will want to go by that moniker, but he understands what his father’s saying.
“I may tell the Dark Lord to consider you as a courtier?”
“Yes, Father.”
Theo closes his eyes as Father gets up and sweeps towards the Floo. Being a Death Eater would indeed be an honor. It’s also not one that Theo wants, given that he would have to kill and torture. He would only want to do that if someone he’s close to was attacked, and Father can defend himself.
Harry Potter being the Dark Lord’s son will change everything, Theo thinks, but it’s already having positive effects on his own life. Maybe he can have a positive effect on Potter’s—the Dark Prince’s—whatever name he will go by.
*
“He’s going to be just like the Dark Lord,” Draco whispers as they wait in the Malfoys’ ivory-colored receiving room for the Dark Prince.
Theo sighs and wonders why the Slytherin his age that he finds the most tolerable company is also one of the most nervous. “Why would he be? It’s got to be as much of a shock to him as it was to us. More. I can’t imagine that he ever thought this was a possibility. And it’s the life he has to live, while for us—”
“He’s coming!”
Theo would doubt that, but it’s true that Draco has sharper ears than he does. He stands up next to Draco as the Dark Prince enters, and bows smoothly. Draco does it as though he has someone jerking his spine around with invisible chains. Theo sighs.
The boy who was Harry Potter stares at them. He wears blue robes edged with silver that make him look incredibly uncomfortable. Then again, Theo doesn’t think he really got a choice about wearing them. He’s biting his lip and looking back and forth between the two of them as if he anticipates an ambush.
“Good morning, my lord,” Theo says, with Draco chiming in a second later. There should be no objections to that title, at least.
But of course there are. The Prince rubs his forehead as if it aches. “Could you not do that?”
“I think your esteemed parent might be angry if you were addressed any other way,” Theo says in a tone that he can’t dismiss the edge from. This is his big chance to avoid becoming a Death Eater. He is going to find a tolerable lord in used-to-be-Potter, or else. “And that would not be good for our continued health.”
“Yeah, I agree with Theo,” Draco mutters.
The Prince turns back to Theo. “What exactly are you feeling about being made to bow to me, Nott?”
What an interesting question. Theo smiles and risks the truth. He thinks the torture session, if there is one, will be short, and he will have useful information about what he shouldn’t say in the future if it does happen. “I think that your being the Dark Lord’s son is the most hilarious thing that I’ve ever lived through.”
“Theo!” Draco sounds as though the torture has already begun, for him.
Theo continues. The Prince is gaping at him instead of shouting, which is an excellent sign as far as avoiding future torture prospects is concerned. And Theo is doing this for Draco almost as much as for himself. “You were a symbol of the Dark Lord’s loss and of a miracle, because no one had ever survived the Killing Curse. So many political hopes were pinned on you, and then never supported, because you were a child and because the people who came up with them thought your symbolism was enough. Now one side of the war is going to collapse faster than an Exploding Snap tower, and I get to be one of the people who’s bearing witness to it. Yes, I think it’s awfully funny.” He has to bite his lips to hold back a laugh right now, in fact. He wishes he could be there to see Dumbledore’s face when the Headmaster finds out almost as much as he wishes he could have been there to see the Dark Lord discover the truth.
“Awfully funny.”
“Yes, that.” Theo is pleased to see that his future lord has picked up on his phrasing. Really, this is working out better for Theo than for probably anyone else.
The Prince shakes his head. His eyes are wide, but he doesn’t seem like he’s condemning what Theo’s doing. In fact, a small smile darts across his face that he doesn’t seem aware of.
But what he says, because he has the soul of a stubborn Gryffindor, is “I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea that I might be the death of my friends and thousands of innocent people who haven’t done anything wrong.”
But those innocent people turned on him last year. Why does he care?
It won’t benefit Theo’s relationship with his Lord to say so, of course. So he just speaks mildly. “But you can dislike it and still laugh.”
The Prince visibly has to think about this before he shrugs. “Laughing doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You already said that. My lord, excuse me, but I shall have to point it out if you’re going to be this repetitive all the time.”
It’s a risk, Theo knows it’s a risk, he can feel Draco tensing beside him—
But it’s a risk that works. The Prince laughs, and his eyes are bright and shining, and Theo feels a jolt of pleasure he didn’t know he was capable of. The Harry Potter is looking at him as though he likes Theo, as though Theo means something to him.
Was I a Potter fan all along? What a disgusting thought.
But Theo doesn’t have long to think about it. The Prince inclines his head and murmurs, “Why don’t you tell me what you think it means, to be someone’s court, and we can go from there?”
It’s hard for Theo to believe that someone knows this little about the politics of Dark Lords. But it’s also too good a sign for him to continue, in a low, smooth voice. “Being in someone’s court means being their advisor, much as my father and Draco’s parents are to—your father.” A flinch that the Prince doesn’t seem aware he’s making. Interesting. “And it means supporting them, shielding them, defending them, making them laugh, bearing them company.”
The Prince sighs. “All right. And what do I do for you in return? How am I supposed to protect you if you’re protecting me? I would understand it if we were friends, but it sounds like you don’t want to be.”
Theo pauses. The Dark Lord does not protect his Death Eaters, except in the sense that he would help one of them if they were in a battle and it was going badly. He does not shield them from social missteps, or the consequences of saying stupid things in a gathering, from what Father has said.
Then again, not all the Death Eaters are the Dark Lord’s courtiers.
“You would give us the grace of your presence,” Theo says slowly. “You would protect us with your reputation. You would intervene for us with your father—”
“Theo.”
Draco’s voice is low and urgent. Theo turns around, glancing at the doorway of the receiving room. The only thing he can think of that would make Draco sound like that is if the Dark Lord had appeared and was glaring at them.
But instead, Draco is just shaking his head, his face a mask of appeal. “Please don’t tell him things like that. You can’t tell him things like that.”
“Why not?” the former Potter demands.
“Because it’s not—that’s not the way Lords and courts work,” Draco says, and his voice is trembling. “You order us. We obey. You’re strong, we’re weak. That’s the way it goes.”
The Prince’s eyes darken, and Theo doesn’t think he’s imagining the power that leaks from him. It’s a good thing if he can feel it like this, though. That indicates both that the Prince is strong and that Theo is attuned to him and their bond should be powerful as well.
“Maybe that’s the way it is with my—father, but it’s not that way with me. I’ll still protect you as much as I can.” The Prince turns away from Draco, who’s gaping, and faces Theo. “What were you saying?”
Theo isn’t reeling as badly as Draco, but he does reel a bit. The Prince wants to protect Draco Malfoy, who’s fought him and despised him for years?
Maybe this will be even better than I thought.
Theo starts telling the truth again, while the Prince listens with sharp eyes.
*
“What do you think of the Prince, Theo?”
“Do you think we should use some other title?”
“As of yet, the Dark Lord has not indicated what title he would prefer for his heir, which means that we should stick with something that would not offend either of them.”
Theo isn’t so sure that the title wouldn’t offend the former Harry Potter, but he and Father are at home in their library at the moment, and there is no way for either of the Dark Lords to overhear them. Unless the Dark Lord has a way of spying through the Dark Mark.
Theo doesn’t think he can do that.
Probably.
He tries to sneak a look at the Mark on his Father’s arm without being obvious about it. Father chuckles under his breath as he lifts a glass of wine to his lips. “Yes, Theo, you will bear a Mark in time, but I assume that it will not be one like mine.”
“You assume, Father?”
“The Dark Lord might mandate that it will be, but he is trying to be conscious of his son’s—sensibilities. I do not believe that he will insist it look the same.”
Theo nods absently, wondering for a moment longer whether the Dark Lord can spy through the Mark, and then puts the thought aside. Father might not know, and even if he did, he might not tell Theo. They do not serve in rival courts—Merlin willing, that should never be the case—but there are things that courtiers do not tell the servants of another Lord.
Then he focuses on the situation in front of them. “The Dark Lord is being far more careful with the Prince than I thought he might.”
Father sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his slippered feet sprawl in front of him. Theo smiles despite himself. This is the time he likes best, when Father lets himself relax in front of Theo the way he never would in front of anyone else.
Well, perhaps Theo’s Mother, if she were still here. But she left long ago.
Theo shakes the thought of her away and listens to his father’s answer, which is slow and thoughtful.
“I do not believe he would treat the Prince so gently if he was only a child. But he is a child who has defeated the Dark Lord more than once, he is—well, he is the heir. And he is capable of Parseltongue and other magic that only the Dark Lord has been capable of for years. In Britain, at least.”
Theo narrows his eyes. He’s become good at telling when Father is shading the truth, or holding some private suspicion back, and he’s doing that now. “You think there’s something else behind this gentle treatment as well.”
“I do not know what it is.”
“But you think it exists.”
Father gives him a thin smile and a tilt of the wineglass. “I do. And you will have to find out what it is for yourself, and report it to the lord you have chosen, if you should so choose.”
Theo takes a step back and bows to Father with a burst of pride in his chest. Father has treated him like an adult courtier for the first time, accepting both Theo’s service to the Dark Prince and Theo’s ability to find out the truth on his own.
Theo will not forget this treatment.
But he will also use his investigative skills now for his Prince, and not for Father.
Theo can’t help the spring in his step that he leaves with.
*
“Can I cheer you up, my lord?”
Theo thinks it only right that he make the offer. They’ve been wandering through the Malfoy grounds for the better part of an hour, and Draco is busy getting a lecture from his father on the best way to serve the Dark Prince. This is the first time they’ve been alone.
And Theo, truth be told, doesn’t like the look of despair in his lord’s eyes.
“Oh. No, thanks, Nott.”
Theo stops and turns to face the Prince. Those green eyes widen a little as they focus on him. Theo’s glad. He has things to say, and he hopes that the Prince will listen. Theo doesn’t need him to love the life he has now, but he does need him to embrace it.
“I think there are a few lessons I can offer, whether or not you know that you need them,” Theo says, and keeps his voice gentle. “For one thing, Draco and I are here to provide you with what you need, just as our parents do with the Dark Lord. If you do not use us that way, the Dark Lord might blame us.”
He doesn’t like accusing his lord like this, but if there’s one thing he knows about the man who was Harry Potter, it’s that his protective instinct can goad him to act in the defense of others, where he would not in defense of himself.
“I would tell him it was my fault! I would get him to punish me.”
Theo frowns, wondering why the Prince would do that. He chooses his next words carefully, hoping they’ll have the result he wants. “Even if he believes you, he would be more likely to punish us than you. You are his son.”
“He tried to kill me the other day.”
“How?”
The Prince stumbles through an explanation about a flower that Theo recognizes from the description as Venom-Fire. He hides his wince. It can have no place here, do neither him nor the Prince any good.
But he makes a mental note to himself to remember that there is a Venom-Fire flower growing somewhere in the Malfoy grounds. He should do anything he can to avoid it.
“I see,” Theo says, when he realizes that the Prince is waiting for him to speak. “But I think that was meant as a lesson, not a murder attempt.” It’s his honest opinion. The Dark Lord would try harder if he wanted to kill the Prince, and of course he would manage it. His son is no match for him.
Not yet.
“I mean, I do, too,” the Prince says, scowling in a way that makes Theo sure he hasn’t had any lessons in comportment. “But if I got killed by the flower, that would just prove that I’m not fit to be his heir. I’m still weak. He’s perfectly willing to punish me or kill me—as he should be.”
He would never—he should never—
There can be only one explanation for the Prince saying such an insane thing.
“You think I’m reporting to him.”
“No,” the Prince says, but he mumbles the word while staring at his fine dragonhide boots.
Theo catches his breath and the desire to protest that he would never do something like that, and the Prince should know him better. The Prince doesn’t know him yet; that’s the whole problem. And he was raised in the Muggle world, away from the system of courts and Dark Lords and what courtiers truly mean.
“My lord, I am not. I am only yours, part of your court, not his. It is one of the pieces of advice that my father gave him, and Draco’s parents as well, I imagine.” Theo pauses, wondering if he should reveal the next part. Then he decides he will, because he needs to build trust with his lord. “And they were glad to give it, given that it means we will not be Marked as his, but yours.”
“What?”
Theo takes a moment to sigh internally over the naivete revealed in that word. But he does think it’s about the Marking, not about Theo and Draco belonging to him. He has to know that by now. “Did no one tell you that? Yes. You are to be a lord in your own right—not the equal of the Dark Lord, but not a simple Death Eater. And that means that we will be yours, too. You must be able to Mark us and trust us.”
The Prince waves his hands back and forth, his eyes wide and distracted. “But—I don’t know how to Mark anyone! And it doesn’t make any sense that my father would want me to have servants that could turn against him. I mean, I know I have to prove myself, I’m not trying to take anything for granted—”
“I told you that I am not reporting to him. At the moment, Draco is discussing with his parents and the Dark Lord how the branding ceremony with your Mark will differ from the one that Death Eaters normally go through.”
Theo does wish that they could have involved the Prince in that conversation. However, he probably would have protested and set the necessities back by arguing about whether he needed a Mark at all. Theo is neatly avoiding those things this way, and so is everyone else involved with the Prince.
“Don’t you have to talk with your father, too?”
“I did. I know what will happen.” Theo is a little surprised that the Prince doesn’t, already. “I assumed the Dark Lord had spoken to you. If he has not, then please, my lord, let me offer you this information, as a show of loyalty.”
The Prince runs a hand through his hair, then plasters it over his eyes. Theo holds back the temptation to cluck his tongue. Even if he might deplore the mess the Prince is making of his hair, it’s his choice, and not Theo’s place to scold him.
“Yes,” comes the reply to Theo’s question, a few moments after he thought it would. “Let’s hear it.”
“The Dark Lord is sensitive to the fact that we have two more years at school, and thus a visible Mark will be likely to be discovered—especially as some of us shower with Quidditch teammates.” Theo smiles, hoping the Prince will absorb the implication that his father is thinking about the implication of the Prince continuing in Gryffindor. The Dark Lord does not want to trap him in Malfoy Manor. So Theo sincerely believes. “So the Mark will sink into our skin, and only appear when you call it out or if you are in dire need of us.”
“And how do you feel about being branded?”
“I already told you. I am glad to be Marked as yours rather than the Dark Lord’s. I believe that you will be a more understanding master.”
Theo thought the words would comfort the Prince, but he shudders instead. Theo checks a sigh. Not his place to make that sound, either, for all that he wishes the Prince understood.
He can give people a shelter and comfort and purpose in life, people who would otherwise have been subjected to torture at the Dark Lord’s hands. Theo believed the Prince was the kind of Gryffindor and savior who would need that. Was he wrong?
“You said that your parents were glad to see you Marked by me instead of him. But—you don’t even know me. You don’t know what I’m like. You don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you from my father.”
Oh. Oh. That’s—different than I thought his objection would be.
“Do I not know you?” Theo says softly, and wills his words to reach his Prince. “I have seen the way that you interacted with people at school, my lord, and I’ve listened to Draco’s stories. The sort of boy who is kind to house-elves will be kind to me.”
“And you don’t want to be free? To not follow anyone?”
Now Theo feels a flicker of impatience as hot as a wildfire. “It’s not a choice that I’ve ever considered, because I knew I would not have it. Power flows down from the top in our society, my lord. Some people achieve it with money, as Lucius Malfoy has, and some with blackmail or gossip or a heroic deed, like Dumbledore’s when he defeated Grindelwald. But the purest source of power, the one that has the least chance of fading with the years or a change of fortune, is magical. My father and I do not have that. So my father swore to the Dark Lord when he first rose, and so I swear to you.”
I hope he understands, someday, what it means that he made me expose this weakness.
For now, the Prince only shrugs, with a skeptical expression that Theo has to resist the temptation to hex off his face. “All right. But I’m not as powerful as you think. I don’t think I inherited any of the magic that my father has.”
This is a simpler objection, and one that Theo knows how to handle. “I heard that you were a Parselmouth.”
“Yes, of course—”
“And that you’re mastering the Dark Arts spells that Mrs. Malfoy is showing you. Apparently she spoke about it with her husband, and Draco overheard.” Draco’s obsession with spying on his parents, in case they are talking about him, does deliver the occasional metaphorical Galleon sometimes.
The Prince stares at Theo as if trying to think how to get out of this conversation with the least amount of trouble. He finally says, “I reckon that it’s because they’re beginner spells, right now.”
Theo keeps his face blank with an effort. Modesty is a quality unbecoming his lord. “And you cast a Patronus when you were thirteen.”
“How did you hear that?” the Prince asks, and then droops. Does he think that the more people who are gossiping about him, the harder it will be for him to withdraw into the shadows again? Or even retain the “ordinary” level of fame he has dealt with so far?
“We all saw you cast it at that Quidditch game when Draco and the others dressed up as Dementors,” Theo says and can’t help the strange look he tosses at his lord. Did he forget about that? “Although I did hear rumors later that it was even more corporeal than that. Not even most Aurors can cast a corporeal Patronus, did you know? I don’t think any of the Death Eaters can.”
There are possibilities among the Death Eaters that Father has talked about sometimes, that is true, but those are even more vague than the rumors that the Prince can cast a corporeal Patronus, and Theo sees no need to mention them right now.
The Prince is silent, shaking his head and staring at the ground. Theo hesitates. If this were the Dark Lord, he would hesitate to interrupt, because the Dark Lord could lash out at whoever did.
On the other hand, if Theo perceives his Prince that way, he should just be asked to be Marked as an ordinary Death Eater. He has to trust that his intuitions about the Prince’s character are correct. He has to.
“My lord?”
The Prince opens his eyes and turns to face him. “Fine. Have you—have you discussed this Mark that I have to brand you with in any detail? I mean, other than its disappearing when it has to. What it’s going to look like?”
“I did bring a few designs that Draco and I thought you might want to approve,” Theo says, with a smile, and reaches into his robe pocket to take out the three scrolls. When he taps them to make them hover in the air, he watches curiously. He and Draco argued about what design the Prince would choose. Theo thinks he’s predicted his lord’s reaction accurately. Draco argued that they couldn’t really be sure, and anyway, he had known Potter better.
Theo pointing out that the Prince’s name wasn’t Potter anymore nearly made Draco’s head explode.
But Theo’s prediction was correct. The Prince turns away from the two designs that most resemble the Dark Mark, one of them a serpent and a castle, and another a thestral with its wings spread and its forehooves on a skull. He turns towards the third one instead, and gapes.
Theo smiles.
“What’s this one showing, Nott?”
Theo comes around to where he can see the scrolls, and nods at the one the Prince approves of. “That’s a chimera,” he says. “Or a variant, anyway. Chimeras often have goat heads as well. But we thought that your Gryffindor nature and your father’s heritage should both be honored.” Those are visible in the snake and the red-gold flames that are both part of the image.
The Prince stands still for a long moment with an unhappy expression on his face. Theo keeps his smile gentle and his impatience internal. There is going to be a Mark. He thought the Prince had made his peace with that, but perhaps he really didn’t realize that his courtiers would be Marked.
In the end, the Prince nods at the chimera. “That one, then.”
Theo is glad to smile at him. “Good. I liked that one the best myself.” He half-bows to the Prince as he uses his wand to roll the scrolls shut, and then decides it’s time to take a gamble. “Can I ask you another favor?”
“Yes, all right.”
“Will you call me Theo? We will be spending years together, and your father calls the members of his court by their first names. It will become more than a bit awkward if you don’t do the same thing. It could be seen as rejecting my company.”
It’s the right appeal, Theo knows, as he sees how pale the Prince goes. “If it’ll keep you safer, then I’ll be happy to. Do you want to call me Harry?”
“Perhaps after the Dark Lord calms down a little. At the moment, it might be dangerous to call you anything but my lord.” Theo is flattered, but he does hope the Prince understands the danger of the Dark Lord’s temper right now.
“Calms down a little? What do you mean?”
What? Of course, Theo won’t pass up the chance to be the one who informs his lord if he really doesn’t know. “Do you really not know? I thought you were getting the Prophet, but I suppose not.”
“No,” the Prince mumbles, looking dazed and sick.
Theo lets himself raise an eyebrow. “Well. The Dark Lord wasn’t pleased at the notion that he’s been deprived of his son and heir for so many years. He burned the Muggle house that you were living in to the ground, and he tortured Rubeus Hagrid. Although I understand that several people led by Dumbledore got Hagrid away before he was too injured.”
The Prince looks as if he’s about to collapse. Theo subtly renders his wand to catch him in case that happens. “And all of this is making the papers?”
“Oh, yes. The Dark Lord is acting openly now, not staying hidden.”
The Prince stands in silence for a moment, his eyes downcast. Then he twitches and looks up at Theo.
“Should you be telling me this? If he kept the papers from me and he doesn’t want me to know…”
“I think he might have thought you were receiving the Prophet and never thought to inquire,” Theo says, and shrugs. It is what he believes. He believes the Dark Lord is far more willing to act like a father than the Prince will allow him to. “But I’m not afraid. I know that you’ll protect me, my lord.”
“Not against him, I can’t!”
Theo lets his eyes widen and his chin droop a little. It’s the right response. The Prince draws closer to him and looks protective.
Until he learns what it is to be a lord, I must provoke the correct responses. Theo doesn’t mind doing that. Certainly it’s easier to interact with the Prince than it is with the Dark Lord, who is so erratic and unpredictable that he would get upset at Theo’s slight manipulation.
“I am growing more confident in your abilities by the day. But he’s the only one who can answer you for his actions. Go and ask him, and since I haven’t seen any effort on his part to keep you from knowing, it should be fine as long as you don’t say you learned it from me.”
“Are all Slytherins this addicted to danger games? He could read it right out of my mind, you know.”
I must also make sure that he learns Occlumency.
Theo laughs a little and leans forwards. He’s pleased to see that the Prince mimics him. He is not beyond teaching, then. Good.
Because the next thing Theo is going to say is important, and should be remembered.
“You’re a hypocrite, telling me about danger games when you play them yourself,” Theo whispers. “But you should know that I know a good thing when I see one.”
It’s hard to make himself turn and stroll towards Malfoy Manor as if he doesn’t have a care, but he does it. Because it’s important for the Prince to remember that Theo is his own actor, as well as his advisor.
Theo thinks that in time, he may well be able to be friends with the Prince—Harry, when he can use that name. It’s more than he ever expected with the lord he would serve.
But at the moment, it will only do him harm if he lingers near the Prince and tries to soothe his anxiety. He needs to speak with his father, obviously, and learn about the events that have been reported in the Prophet and that Theo assumed he already knew.
Perhaps, too, he can learn to have a little less fear of the Dark Lord. My father reports that he is trying to act like a father, but the Prince must be a better judge of that than I would be.
Pairings: Mentions of Mr. Nott/Mrs. Nott and Voldemort/Lily, otherwise gen
Content Notes: AU after fifth year, angst, drama, references to child abuse and past character deaths, mentions of torture, present tense, Dark Arts
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Theo is surprised to learn that the Dark Lord has a son, and more surprised still to learn that he’s Theo’s classmate, Harry Potter. He never realized how much it would change his own world.
Author’s Notes: This story is part of my “Songs of the Stormy Season” series of short fics being posted between Halloween and the winter solstice. It’s Theo’s perspective on the events before, in, and surrounding my fic “Broken Glass Life,” about Harry being Voldemort’s life, and I recommend you read that one first. This one will have a second part, to be posted in a few days.
Dark Prince of the Glass Court
“Theo. What do you know about Harry Potter?”
Theo blinks at his father. Normally, they eat breakfast in silence, because Father is occupied with either the Prophet or one of his alchemy books. Theo doesn’t mind that, since he’s usually reading about Runes.
But now…
“Only what most people know,” Theo answers. “Gryffindor, Boy-Who-Lived, favored by the Gryffindor professors. Not taking Runes or Arithmancy. Always getting into some kind of trouble every year. Marked by the Dark Lord. Probably cheated to get into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but insisted that he didn’t. Castigated by the papers for lying this past year.” He shrugs. “What about him, Father?”
“He is the Dark Lord’s son.”
Theo chokes even though he doesn’t have anything in his throat. “What?” he wheezes, once his father shakes his head and casts the Anti-Choking Charm on him.
“Yes. I was surprised as well. But it seems that his mother was an Unspeakable who came to spy on the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord tried to seduce her to our side in more than one way. It does at least make some sense of why he could not kill the boy.”
Theo nods fervently. He’s never believed in the legend of Harry Potter, invincible Boy-Who-Lived, dragon-tamer and dueling champion at five years old if you read the books. The boy who came to school is shy and skinny and spends all his time with his two best friends. When he does get in trouble, it doesn’t seem to be something anyone knows the details of.
“The Dark Lord has asked me a number of questions about him.”
“So you wanted to know what I knew?”
“I think he is considering you for a member of the boy’s court, Theo.”
Theo does his best to mute his reaction, simply because that is the way one survives in Slytherin, but his father is sharp-eyed enough to notice it. Father nods and takes a sip of his tea. “I know that you would rather serve him than the Dark Lord.”
“To serve as a Death Eater would be a great honor.”
“But not one you want.”
Theo grimaces. Although his father has good Occlumency shields, he will not try to keep this exchange from the Dark Lord, and that means that Theo will be able to suffer Merlin knows what punishment.
“You would have done your duty, I know. But your temperament is different from mine.” This is the first time Father has managed to say that without its sounding like a criticism. “So you will serve in the Dark Prince’s court, instead.”
“Is that what they’re calling him?”
“It is a name that I have adopted because, at the moment, even the Dark Lord seems uncertain. He is not entitled to the last name Potter, and yet a member of such a prestigious bloodline can hardly go by his first one alone.”
Theo nods. He’s skeptical that the Harry Potter he remembers will want to go by that moniker, but he understands what his father’s saying.
“I may tell the Dark Lord to consider you as a courtier?”
“Yes, Father.”
Theo closes his eyes as Father gets up and sweeps towards the Floo. Being a Death Eater would indeed be an honor. It’s also not one that Theo wants, given that he would have to kill and torture. He would only want to do that if someone he’s close to was attacked, and Father can defend himself.
Harry Potter being the Dark Lord’s son will change everything, Theo thinks, but it’s already having positive effects on his own life. Maybe he can have a positive effect on Potter’s—the Dark Prince’s—whatever name he will go by.
*
“He’s going to be just like the Dark Lord,” Draco whispers as they wait in the Malfoys’ ivory-colored receiving room for the Dark Prince.
Theo sighs and wonders why the Slytherin his age that he finds the most tolerable company is also one of the most nervous. “Why would he be? It’s got to be as much of a shock to him as it was to us. More. I can’t imagine that he ever thought this was a possibility. And it’s the life he has to live, while for us—”
“He’s coming!”
Theo would doubt that, but it’s true that Draco has sharper ears than he does. He stands up next to Draco as the Dark Prince enters, and bows smoothly. Draco does it as though he has someone jerking his spine around with invisible chains. Theo sighs.
The boy who was Harry Potter stares at them. He wears blue robes edged with silver that make him look incredibly uncomfortable. Then again, Theo doesn’t think he really got a choice about wearing them. He’s biting his lip and looking back and forth between the two of them as if he anticipates an ambush.
“Good morning, my lord,” Theo says, with Draco chiming in a second later. There should be no objections to that title, at least.
But of course there are. The Prince rubs his forehead as if it aches. “Could you not do that?”
“I think your esteemed parent might be angry if you were addressed any other way,” Theo says in a tone that he can’t dismiss the edge from. This is his big chance to avoid becoming a Death Eater. He is going to find a tolerable lord in used-to-be-Potter, or else. “And that would not be good for our continued health.”
“Yeah, I agree with Theo,” Draco mutters.
The Prince turns back to Theo. “What exactly are you feeling about being made to bow to me, Nott?”
What an interesting question. Theo smiles and risks the truth. He thinks the torture session, if there is one, will be short, and he will have useful information about what he shouldn’t say in the future if it does happen. “I think that your being the Dark Lord’s son is the most hilarious thing that I’ve ever lived through.”
“Theo!” Draco sounds as though the torture has already begun, for him.
Theo continues. The Prince is gaping at him instead of shouting, which is an excellent sign as far as avoiding future torture prospects is concerned. And Theo is doing this for Draco almost as much as for himself. “You were a symbol of the Dark Lord’s loss and of a miracle, because no one had ever survived the Killing Curse. So many political hopes were pinned on you, and then never supported, because you were a child and because the people who came up with them thought your symbolism was enough. Now one side of the war is going to collapse faster than an Exploding Snap tower, and I get to be one of the people who’s bearing witness to it. Yes, I think it’s awfully funny.” He has to bite his lips to hold back a laugh right now, in fact. He wishes he could be there to see Dumbledore’s face when the Headmaster finds out almost as much as he wishes he could have been there to see the Dark Lord discover the truth.
“Awfully funny.”
“Yes, that.” Theo is pleased to see that his future lord has picked up on his phrasing. Really, this is working out better for Theo than for probably anyone else.
The Prince shakes his head. His eyes are wide, but he doesn’t seem like he’s condemning what Theo’s doing. In fact, a small smile darts across his face that he doesn’t seem aware of.
But what he says, because he has the soul of a stubborn Gryffindor, is “I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea that I might be the death of my friends and thousands of innocent people who haven’t done anything wrong.”
But those innocent people turned on him last year. Why does he care?
It won’t benefit Theo’s relationship with his Lord to say so, of course. So he just speaks mildly. “But you can dislike it and still laugh.”
The Prince visibly has to think about this before he shrugs. “Laughing doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You already said that. My lord, excuse me, but I shall have to point it out if you’re going to be this repetitive all the time.”
It’s a risk, Theo knows it’s a risk, he can feel Draco tensing beside him—
But it’s a risk that works. The Prince laughs, and his eyes are bright and shining, and Theo feels a jolt of pleasure he didn’t know he was capable of. The Harry Potter is looking at him as though he likes Theo, as though Theo means something to him.
Was I a Potter fan all along? What a disgusting thought.
But Theo doesn’t have long to think about it. The Prince inclines his head and murmurs, “Why don’t you tell me what you think it means, to be someone’s court, and we can go from there?”
It’s hard for Theo to believe that someone knows this little about the politics of Dark Lords. But it’s also too good a sign for him to continue, in a low, smooth voice. “Being in someone’s court means being their advisor, much as my father and Draco’s parents are to—your father.” A flinch that the Prince doesn’t seem aware he’s making. Interesting. “And it means supporting them, shielding them, defending them, making them laugh, bearing them company.”
The Prince sighs. “All right. And what do I do for you in return? How am I supposed to protect you if you’re protecting me? I would understand it if we were friends, but it sounds like you don’t want to be.”
Theo pauses. The Dark Lord does not protect his Death Eaters, except in the sense that he would help one of them if they were in a battle and it was going badly. He does not shield them from social missteps, or the consequences of saying stupid things in a gathering, from what Father has said.
Then again, not all the Death Eaters are the Dark Lord’s courtiers.
“You would give us the grace of your presence,” Theo says slowly. “You would protect us with your reputation. You would intervene for us with your father—”
“Theo.”
Draco’s voice is low and urgent. Theo turns around, glancing at the doorway of the receiving room. The only thing he can think of that would make Draco sound like that is if the Dark Lord had appeared and was glaring at them.
But instead, Draco is just shaking his head, his face a mask of appeal. “Please don’t tell him things like that. You can’t tell him things like that.”
“Why not?” the former Potter demands.
“Because it’s not—that’s not the way Lords and courts work,” Draco says, and his voice is trembling. “You order us. We obey. You’re strong, we’re weak. That’s the way it goes.”
The Prince’s eyes darken, and Theo doesn’t think he’s imagining the power that leaks from him. It’s a good thing if he can feel it like this, though. That indicates both that the Prince is strong and that Theo is attuned to him and their bond should be powerful as well.
“Maybe that’s the way it is with my—father, but it’s not that way with me. I’ll still protect you as much as I can.” The Prince turns away from Draco, who’s gaping, and faces Theo. “What were you saying?”
Theo isn’t reeling as badly as Draco, but he does reel a bit. The Prince wants to protect Draco Malfoy, who’s fought him and despised him for years?
Maybe this will be even better than I thought.
Theo starts telling the truth again, while the Prince listens with sharp eyes.
*
“What do you think of the Prince, Theo?”
“Do you think we should use some other title?”
“As of yet, the Dark Lord has not indicated what title he would prefer for his heir, which means that we should stick with something that would not offend either of them.”
Theo isn’t so sure that the title wouldn’t offend the former Harry Potter, but he and Father are at home in their library at the moment, and there is no way for either of the Dark Lords to overhear them. Unless the Dark Lord has a way of spying through the Dark Mark.
Theo doesn’t think he can do that.
Probably.
He tries to sneak a look at the Mark on his Father’s arm without being obvious about it. Father chuckles under his breath as he lifts a glass of wine to his lips. “Yes, Theo, you will bear a Mark in time, but I assume that it will not be one like mine.”
“You assume, Father?”
“The Dark Lord might mandate that it will be, but he is trying to be conscious of his son’s—sensibilities. I do not believe that he will insist it look the same.”
Theo nods absently, wondering for a moment longer whether the Dark Lord can spy through the Mark, and then puts the thought aside. Father might not know, and even if he did, he might not tell Theo. They do not serve in rival courts—Merlin willing, that should never be the case—but there are things that courtiers do not tell the servants of another Lord.
Then he focuses on the situation in front of them. “The Dark Lord is being far more careful with the Prince than I thought he might.”
Father sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his slippered feet sprawl in front of him. Theo smiles despite himself. This is the time he likes best, when Father lets himself relax in front of Theo the way he never would in front of anyone else.
Well, perhaps Theo’s Mother, if she were still here. But she left long ago.
Theo shakes the thought of her away and listens to his father’s answer, which is slow and thoughtful.
“I do not believe he would treat the Prince so gently if he was only a child. But he is a child who has defeated the Dark Lord more than once, he is—well, he is the heir. And he is capable of Parseltongue and other magic that only the Dark Lord has been capable of for years. In Britain, at least.”
Theo narrows his eyes. He’s become good at telling when Father is shading the truth, or holding some private suspicion back, and he’s doing that now. “You think there’s something else behind this gentle treatment as well.”
“I do not know what it is.”
“But you think it exists.”
Father gives him a thin smile and a tilt of the wineglass. “I do. And you will have to find out what it is for yourself, and report it to the lord you have chosen, if you should so choose.”
Theo takes a step back and bows to Father with a burst of pride in his chest. Father has treated him like an adult courtier for the first time, accepting both Theo’s service to the Dark Prince and Theo’s ability to find out the truth on his own.
Theo will not forget this treatment.
But he will also use his investigative skills now for his Prince, and not for Father.
Theo can’t help the spring in his step that he leaves with.
*
“Can I cheer you up, my lord?”
Theo thinks it only right that he make the offer. They’ve been wandering through the Malfoy grounds for the better part of an hour, and Draco is busy getting a lecture from his father on the best way to serve the Dark Prince. This is the first time they’ve been alone.
And Theo, truth be told, doesn’t like the look of despair in his lord’s eyes.
“Oh. No, thanks, Nott.”
Theo stops and turns to face the Prince. Those green eyes widen a little as they focus on him. Theo’s glad. He has things to say, and he hopes that the Prince will listen. Theo doesn’t need him to love the life he has now, but he does need him to embrace it.
“I think there are a few lessons I can offer, whether or not you know that you need them,” Theo says, and keeps his voice gentle. “For one thing, Draco and I are here to provide you with what you need, just as our parents do with the Dark Lord. If you do not use us that way, the Dark Lord might blame us.”
He doesn’t like accusing his lord like this, but if there’s one thing he knows about the man who was Harry Potter, it’s that his protective instinct can goad him to act in the defense of others, where he would not in defense of himself.
“I would tell him it was my fault! I would get him to punish me.”
Theo frowns, wondering why the Prince would do that. He chooses his next words carefully, hoping they’ll have the result he wants. “Even if he believes you, he would be more likely to punish us than you. You are his son.”
“He tried to kill me the other day.”
“How?”
The Prince stumbles through an explanation about a flower that Theo recognizes from the description as Venom-Fire. He hides his wince. It can have no place here, do neither him nor the Prince any good.
But he makes a mental note to himself to remember that there is a Venom-Fire flower growing somewhere in the Malfoy grounds. He should do anything he can to avoid it.
“I see,” Theo says, when he realizes that the Prince is waiting for him to speak. “But I think that was meant as a lesson, not a murder attempt.” It’s his honest opinion. The Dark Lord would try harder if he wanted to kill the Prince, and of course he would manage it. His son is no match for him.
Not yet.
“I mean, I do, too,” the Prince says, scowling in a way that makes Theo sure he hasn’t had any lessons in comportment. “But if I got killed by the flower, that would just prove that I’m not fit to be his heir. I’m still weak. He’s perfectly willing to punish me or kill me—as he should be.”
He would never—he should never—
There can be only one explanation for the Prince saying such an insane thing.
“You think I’m reporting to him.”
“No,” the Prince says, but he mumbles the word while staring at his fine dragonhide boots.
Theo catches his breath and the desire to protest that he would never do something like that, and the Prince should know him better. The Prince doesn’t know him yet; that’s the whole problem. And he was raised in the Muggle world, away from the system of courts and Dark Lords and what courtiers truly mean.
“My lord, I am not. I am only yours, part of your court, not his. It is one of the pieces of advice that my father gave him, and Draco’s parents as well, I imagine.” Theo pauses, wondering if he should reveal the next part. Then he decides he will, because he needs to build trust with his lord. “And they were glad to give it, given that it means we will not be Marked as his, but yours.”
“What?”
Theo takes a moment to sigh internally over the naivete revealed in that word. But he does think it’s about the Marking, not about Theo and Draco belonging to him. He has to know that by now. “Did no one tell you that? Yes. You are to be a lord in your own right—not the equal of the Dark Lord, but not a simple Death Eater. And that means that we will be yours, too. You must be able to Mark us and trust us.”
The Prince waves his hands back and forth, his eyes wide and distracted. “But—I don’t know how to Mark anyone! And it doesn’t make any sense that my father would want me to have servants that could turn against him. I mean, I know I have to prove myself, I’m not trying to take anything for granted—”
“I told you that I am not reporting to him. At the moment, Draco is discussing with his parents and the Dark Lord how the branding ceremony with your Mark will differ from the one that Death Eaters normally go through.”
Theo does wish that they could have involved the Prince in that conversation. However, he probably would have protested and set the necessities back by arguing about whether he needed a Mark at all. Theo is neatly avoiding those things this way, and so is everyone else involved with the Prince.
“Don’t you have to talk with your father, too?”
“I did. I know what will happen.” Theo is a little surprised that the Prince doesn’t, already. “I assumed the Dark Lord had spoken to you. If he has not, then please, my lord, let me offer you this information, as a show of loyalty.”
The Prince runs a hand through his hair, then plasters it over his eyes. Theo holds back the temptation to cluck his tongue. Even if he might deplore the mess the Prince is making of his hair, it’s his choice, and not Theo’s place to scold him.
“Yes,” comes the reply to Theo’s question, a few moments after he thought it would. “Let’s hear it.”
“The Dark Lord is sensitive to the fact that we have two more years at school, and thus a visible Mark will be likely to be discovered—especially as some of us shower with Quidditch teammates.” Theo smiles, hoping the Prince will absorb the implication that his father is thinking about the implication of the Prince continuing in Gryffindor. The Dark Lord does not want to trap him in Malfoy Manor. So Theo sincerely believes. “So the Mark will sink into our skin, and only appear when you call it out or if you are in dire need of us.”
“And how do you feel about being branded?”
“I already told you. I am glad to be Marked as yours rather than the Dark Lord’s. I believe that you will be a more understanding master.”
Theo thought the words would comfort the Prince, but he shudders instead. Theo checks a sigh. Not his place to make that sound, either, for all that he wishes the Prince understood.
He can give people a shelter and comfort and purpose in life, people who would otherwise have been subjected to torture at the Dark Lord’s hands. Theo believed the Prince was the kind of Gryffindor and savior who would need that. Was he wrong?
“You said that your parents were glad to see you Marked by me instead of him. But—you don’t even know me. You don’t know what I’m like. You don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you from my father.”
Oh. Oh. That’s—different than I thought his objection would be.
“Do I not know you?” Theo says softly, and wills his words to reach his Prince. “I have seen the way that you interacted with people at school, my lord, and I’ve listened to Draco’s stories. The sort of boy who is kind to house-elves will be kind to me.”
“And you don’t want to be free? To not follow anyone?”
Now Theo feels a flicker of impatience as hot as a wildfire. “It’s not a choice that I’ve ever considered, because I knew I would not have it. Power flows down from the top in our society, my lord. Some people achieve it with money, as Lucius Malfoy has, and some with blackmail or gossip or a heroic deed, like Dumbledore’s when he defeated Grindelwald. But the purest source of power, the one that has the least chance of fading with the years or a change of fortune, is magical. My father and I do not have that. So my father swore to the Dark Lord when he first rose, and so I swear to you.”
I hope he understands, someday, what it means that he made me expose this weakness.
For now, the Prince only shrugs, with a skeptical expression that Theo has to resist the temptation to hex off his face. “All right. But I’m not as powerful as you think. I don’t think I inherited any of the magic that my father has.”
This is a simpler objection, and one that Theo knows how to handle. “I heard that you were a Parselmouth.”
“Yes, of course—”
“And that you’re mastering the Dark Arts spells that Mrs. Malfoy is showing you. Apparently she spoke about it with her husband, and Draco overheard.” Draco’s obsession with spying on his parents, in case they are talking about him, does deliver the occasional metaphorical Galleon sometimes.
The Prince stares at Theo as if trying to think how to get out of this conversation with the least amount of trouble. He finally says, “I reckon that it’s because they’re beginner spells, right now.”
Theo keeps his face blank with an effort. Modesty is a quality unbecoming his lord. “And you cast a Patronus when you were thirteen.”
“How did you hear that?” the Prince asks, and then droops. Does he think that the more people who are gossiping about him, the harder it will be for him to withdraw into the shadows again? Or even retain the “ordinary” level of fame he has dealt with so far?
“We all saw you cast it at that Quidditch game when Draco and the others dressed up as Dementors,” Theo says and can’t help the strange look he tosses at his lord. Did he forget about that? “Although I did hear rumors later that it was even more corporeal than that. Not even most Aurors can cast a corporeal Patronus, did you know? I don’t think any of the Death Eaters can.”
There are possibilities among the Death Eaters that Father has talked about sometimes, that is true, but those are even more vague than the rumors that the Prince can cast a corporeal Patronus, and Theo sees no need to mention them right now.
The Prince is silent, shaking his head and staring at the ground. Theo hesitates. If this were the Dark Lord, he would hesitate to interrupt, because the Dark Lord could lash out at whoever did.
On the other hand, if Theo perceives his Prince that way, he should just be asked to be Marked as an ordinary Death Eater. He has to trust that his intuitions about the Prince’s character are correct. He has to.
“My lord?”
The Prince opens his eyes and turns to face him. “Fine. Have you—have you discussed this Mark that I have to brand you with in any detail? I mean, other than its disappearing when it has to. What it’s going to look like?”
“I did bring a few designs that Draco and I thought you might want to approve,” Theo says, with a smile, and reaches into his robe pocket to take out the three scrolls. When he taps them to make them hover in the air, he watches curiously. He and Draco argued about what design the Prince would choose. Theo thinks he’s predicted his lord’s reaction accurately. Draco argued that they couldn’t really be sure, and anyway, he had known Potter better.
Theo pointing out that the Prince’s name wasn’t Potter anymore nearly made Draco’s head explode.
But Theo’s prediction was correct. The Prince turns away from the two designs that most resemble the Dark Mark, one of them a serpent and a castle, and another a thestral with its wings spread and its forehooves on a skull. He turns towards the third one instead, and gapes.
Theo smiles.
“What’s this one showing, Nott?”
Theo comes around to where he can see the scrolls, and nods at the one the Prince approves of. “That’s a chimera,” he says. “Or a variant, anyway. Chimeras often have goat heads as well. But we thought that your Gryffindor nature and your father’s heritage should both be honored.” Those are visible in the snake and the red-gold flames that are both part of the image.
The Prince stands still for a long moment with an unhappy expression on his face. Theo keeps his smile gentle and his impatience internal. There is going to be a Mark. He thought the Prince had made his peace with that, but perhaps he really didn’t realize that his courtiers would be Marked.
In the end, the Prince nods at the chimera. “That one, then.”
Theo is glad to smile at him. “Good. I liked that one the best myself.” He half-bows to the Prince as he uses his wand to roll the scrolls shut, and then decides it’s time to take a gamble. “Can I ask you another favor?”
“Yes, all right.”
“Will you call me Theo? We will be spending years together, and your father calls the members of his court by their first names. It will become more than a bit awkward if you don’t do the same thing. It could be seen as rejecting my company.”
It’s the right appeal, Theo knows, as he sees how pale the Prince goes. “If it’ll keep you safer, then I’ll be happy to. Do you want to call me Harry?”
“Perhaps after the Dark Lord calms down a little. At the moment, it might be dangerous to call you anything but my lord.” Theo is flattered, but he does hope the Prince understands the danger of the Dark Lord’s temper right now.
“Calms down a little? What do you mean?”
What? Of course, Theo won’t pass up the chance to be the one who informs his lord if he really doesn’t know. “Do you really not know? I thought you were getting the Prophet, but I suppose not.”
“No,” the Prince mumbles, looking dazed and sick.
Theo lets himself raise an eyebrow. “Well. The Dark Lord wasn’t pleased at the notion that he’s been deprived of his son and heir for so many years. He burned the Muggle house that you were living in to the ground, and he tortured Rubeus Hagrid. Although I understand that several people led by Dumbledore got Hagrid away before he was too injured.”
The Prince looks as if he’s about to collapse. Theo subtly renders his wand to catch him in case that happens. “And all of this is making the papers?”
“Oh, yes. The Dark Lord is acting openly now, not staying hidden.”
The Prince stands in silence for a moment, his eyes downcast. Then he twitches and looks up at Theo.
“Should you be telling me this? If he kept the papers from me and he doesn’t want me to know…”
“I think he might have thought you were receiving the Prophet and never thought to inquire,” Theo says, and shrugs. It is what he believes. He believes the Dark Lord is far more willing to act like a father than the Prince will allow him to. “But I’m not afraid. I know that you’ll protect me, my lord.”
“Not against him, I can’t!”
Theo lets his eyes widen and his chin droop a little. It’s the right response. The Prince draws closer to him and looks protective.
Until he learns what it is to be a lord, I must provoke the correct responses. Theo doesn’t mind doing that. Certainly it’s easier to interact with the Prince than it is with the Dark Lord, who is so erratic and unpredictable that he would get upset at Theo’s slight manipulation.
“I am growing more confident in your abilities by the day. But he’s the only one who can answer you for his actions. Go and ask him, and since I haven’t seen any effort on his part to keep you from knowing, it should be fine as long as you don’t say you learned it from me.”
“Are all Slytherins this addicted to danger games? He could read it right out of my mind, you know.”
I must also make sure that he learns Occlumency.
Theo laughs a little and leans forwards. He’s pleased to see that the Prince mimics him. He is not beyond teaching, then. Good.
Because the next thing Theo is going to say is important, and should be remembered.
“You’re a hypocrite, telling me about danger games when you play them yourself,” Theo whispers. “But you should know that I know a good thing when I see one.”
It’s hard to make himself turn and stroll towards Malfoy Manor as if he doesn’t have a care, but he does it. Because it’s important for the Prince to remember that Theo is his own actor, as well as his advisor.
Theo thinks that in time, he may well be able to be friends with the Prince—Harry, when he can use that name. It’s more than he ever expected with the lord he would serve.
But at the moment, it will only do him harm if he lingers near the Prince and tries to soothe his anxiety. He needs to speak with his father, obviously, and learn about the events that have been reported in the Prophet and that Theo assumed he already knew.
Perhaps, too, he can learn to have a little less fear of the Dark Lord. My father reports that he is trying to act like a father, but the Prince must be a better judge of that than I would be.
