Chapter Text
Lord Theodorus Nott was, by no stretch of the word, a nice man. He might have been nice once upon a time, but he had long since put that tiny shell of a fragment into a sealed box and set said box ablaze with Fiendfyre. He had to, if he had wanted to survive being one of his Lord’s most trusted knights- the first and last line of defense his Lord had against the larger world that would take one look at his achievements and crown him Evil and Dark and Terrible.
A world that, as had been proven true, would try everything in its power to push his Lord under and demand perfect obedience. Instead of bowing, however, like so many others had, his Lord had stood tall and spat right back at the face of the world. His Lord, before he had gone insane under duress and Dumbledore’s manipulations, had demanded nothing of his Knights except that they do what they needed to survive and Honor magic for who she truly was- a being who didn’t care about petty classifications such as Light or Dark or Neutral, but rather cared for intent and creation.
The ancient traditions honored Lady Magic in such a way- often using all branches of magic to create something spectacular that would resonate within the magical core of everyone nearby, soothing them in a way that no Calming Drought or Draught of Peace ever could. His Lord knew that, and despite his raising as having been Muggle-raised, his Lord had proven time and time again that he was no traitor to the traditions that kept their society alive.
That kept Wixen alive, even to this very day.
(His Lord’s status as Muggle-raised had only been a point of issue to those from the Old Circles until his third year, when a bunch of students, himself included, caught his Lord performing the proper Samhain ritual inside the Slytherin Common Room- a time from before it had been banned by the Ministry for being too ‘Dark’ and thus ‘too dangerous’. After that, not one of the people who had joined his Knights had been upset. His Lord was proof that not all those who were Muggle-raised were keen on destroying Lady Magic- that there was the possibility of hope.)
But what did it matter, in the end? Dumbledore had been Herald the Savior of the magical world. Defeating Grindelwald and putting an end to ‘For the Greater Good’ had given the delusional Transfiguration Teacher a lust for power that was commonly associated with new witches and wizards practicing ‘Dark’ magic for the first time- it was always the more powerful of the magicks involved in life, and tended to temporarily warp ones feelings if they weren’t careful enough in practice. It had gotten to his head, and Theodorus Nott had been skeptical of letting his Lord return to Hogwarts to try to apply for the position of Defense Teacher- to talk to a teacher who had taken one look at his Lord and branded him Evil for simply being different. For being Slytherin. For being one of the Heirs to the Hogwarts Four, and thus having a certain absolute power that Dumbledore could never even hope to achieve, even with the Elder Wand- a toy that didn’t even belong to his bloodline. A wand that Gellert Grindelwald had used with ease, but Albus Dumbledore didn’t seem to understand what was meant by ‘winning the allegiance of the wand’.
That singular meeting had been the last time that his Lord walked among the Earth.
The one who returned to them had been full of anger and hatred, burning to the brim in sub-zero Hoarfrost and boiling over in indignation. This Monster masquerading as his Lord had demanded total devotion and perfect, mindless obedience, with any perceived slight getting a Crucio thrown at the offending party- and Theodorus Nott had been on the receiving end of quite a few punishments himself back in the day.
So, no. Theodorus Nott wasn’t a nice man. Not by any stretch of the word. He had performed numerous acts in the name of his Lord, if only to prevent himself from facing the Monster’s favorite spell. He had never been asked to torture, thankfully, but he had been made to stand aside or provide assistance on more than one occasion. He had been ordered to kidnap and kill many times, and he had even taken part in the relocation of many children from their parents- even in the throes of total madness, Theodorus Nott was pleased to note that even the Monster his Lord had become refused to harm children, often relocating them or outright using the Killing Curse on them before they had a chance to comprehend what was happening.
It was theorized, after all, to be the most painless way to die.
(Theorized. Like it made that much more of a difference to those left behind.)
It had been with only slight glee that Theodorus Nott learned of the downfall of the Monster he had to call his Lord. His Lord, not the Monster he had become, would no doubt be horrified to learn of what he had been doing. Having been privy to the knowledge of his Lord’s background, Theodorus Nott knew with absolute certainty that it was not what his Lord would have ever wanted.
The last thing his Lord would have ever wanted was to orphan a child- not like how he had been. It had taken years and years of effort on the part of the Knights to help heal the jagged parts of their Lord’s soul and heart, and even Theodorus knew that there was no way to fully heal the damage done. Years of effort and the running ‘joke’ that the Knights were all siblings, with their Lord as the father were the only thing that stopped their Lord from going insane years prior, and Theodorus Nott cursed, with all his heart and soul, the name of one Albus Dumbledore.
(Felix Rosier may have started the joke, but what many seemed to forget is that the Rosier’s were the closest to Lady Magic a physical person could be without becoming part of the aether itself. If a Rosier claimed someone as family, they were, regardless of the intention- and no Seer blessed by Lady Magic’s hand would ever change that. Theodorus Nott missed Felix most days, but his son seemed keen to keep up the Rosier Traditions, even despite being rendered blind. It was a small mercy that, perhaps, had saved most of the Old Circles from the steady decline in magic that people were using these days. United them more strongly, too.)
The damned goat masquerading as a human had undone years and years of healing in just a single meeting, shattering any kind of sanity and peace that his Lord had built up, and tossed that fragile hope into the murky abyss of the Veil without so much as a ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t feel you’re right for this school’.
No. Instead it had been “I will not allow someone as Dark as you to corrupt the peace of this establishment. Your kind will only bring about an end to the world, Riddle. Stop this madness, now, or so help me I will ensure you fall like Grindelwald.”
(Theodorus knew that had been the exact wording, too. He had been given special permission to view his Lord’s memories, right in between the phases of his Lord and the Monster that took its place. When Theodorus still held clout with his Lord and the two could talk about anything.)
It would only take a small bit of spell-worked Fiendfyre for Dumbledore to stop existing. Mix in some runes to protect against dispelling and a potion to ensure the longevity of the trap, and Theodorus was confident that he could get rid of Dumbledore practically overnight. Of course, there was the pesky issue of damage control and trying to keep his own name clear that he had to consider. His Lord loved Hogwarts almost more than anything else in the world- it having been the gateway to him finding his own family and providing him with a chance that the Muggle world would never afford to give him, and the Nott family was well known for their trade of mixing spell work, runes, and potions into items to create powerful, wearable charms that could do anything from protect against almost all Jinxes, and a good portion of Hexes and Curses, to being used to ‘wandlessly’ cast powerful spell combinations.
It would only take a slight modification to turn that knowledge into something else, and Theodorus Nott had contemplated, in great depth many times, how to go about killing Dumbledore this way.
Except, the plans had to be scrapped multiple times, because while the Nott family was well known for their trade, so was one Lily Potter nee Evans, and Theodorus doubted Dumbledore didn’t know how to counter anything he’d plan up thanks to her unwitting aid. The woman had, on numerous occasions, proven that the ‘traditional’ laws of magic that Muggleborns were pushing as gospel were false, and he had gotten to witness first hand the kind of powerful magic that Lily Evans was able to do- even going as far as to invoke Runes of Maternal Protection into the blood of her son to... not stop a Killing Curse, but rather, rebound it.
Magic that had been dubbed ‘Dark’, despite the name and what the Runes did, simply because it involved blood and a death. Lily Evans, wife of James Potter, had used sacrificial magic that had been outright banned by the British Ministry of Magic for being ‘Dark’ Magic, and everyone celebrated the results. Theodorus Nott knew that if anyone else had tried, their name would be besmirched and burned out of history that instant- a perk of the Potter family in Dumbledore’s pocket, no doubt. As it was, the backlash of such ‘Dark’ magic being used by the family of devout ‘Light’, almost no one ever talked about the woman who did the impossible and protected someone from the unstoppable Killing Curse. There was respect, but no one talked about her anymore, or really honored her. Her husband, yes. Her child, absolutely. But the wife? Poor Lily Evans?
Theodorus never lit a candle on Samhain for the Potters, but he would, and had been, for Lily Evans- right alongside a candle for his own wife. He felt that even his Lord would have done the same, had he been able to… not survive, because the man had- his Mark hadn’t faded completely- but rather… if he had been able to keep his form. His Lord respected magic, no matter it’s strength, viability or how the magic took shape- Peter Pettigrew was living proof of that: Man had the weakest magic Theodorus had ever known, but he could still hold his own in a quick and dirty fight- Antonin Dolohov could vouch for that one. To be able to do as she had done, Theodorus felt safe in the knowledge that his Lord wouldn’t be too upset with one of his Knights honoring her memory. The Monster his Lord had become would have issues, yes, but his Lord? The one he took up his Oath to? No, his Lord would be proud of Lily Evans.
(Maybe even proud enough to have taken the child in and provide for him without cost. His Lord had done it for the Couch child, and oh, did Theodorus miss little Barty something fierce. Of course, none of that would have been needed if the Monster his Lord had become hadn’t been created. The same could be said of the mindlessness he instilled in his followers, but between being punished by the Monster and mindlessness… Even Theodorus couldn’t fault his fellow Knights- he’d never call them Death Eaters, that was a title started by Dumbledore and embraced by the delusional Ministry.)
So, with knowledge that the Potter Scion was going to either be a force to be reckoned with, or a mindless pawn of Dumbledore’s, it was with a grumbling and weary heart that had Theodorus Nott accepting the fact that one young Harry Potter had not only managed to befriend his son but also ended up in Slytherin- no doubt as the Heir of Slytherin- Theodorus knew how a Rite of Conquest went. Judging by a small snippet of the most recent letter Theodorus had received from his son, he was willing to bet that Theo would soon give his support to the young man in terms of inner-house politics, which, perhaps the young child would need dearly if the rumors circulating Knockturn were anything to go off of.
(A child fitting Potter’s exact description, working at the Leaky Cauldron and taking days off to wander the grime-infested streets of Knockturn Alley? No, Theodorus wasn’t willing to accept that just yet. Not when the rumors started with three bastards who were known for being drunken addicts.)
"Hadrian Peverell-Potter is not what I had expected of someone the rumors claimed was brought up with laws and politics showed down his throat. Turns out Dumbledore lied to everyone, go figure- Hadrian isn't even that boisterous or reckless that the man kept claiming. Hadrian knew nothing of our world until the Goblins took a bit of mercy on him and asked if Hadrian was aware of having a Vault Key and that it had been given to the Hogwarts Groundskeeper, Hagrid. Hadrian is trying to get one of the more stubborn Muggleborns to uncover the truth of Lady Magic on her own- I might have had a hand helping him do so by mentioning that the Unspeakables usually give out unbiased books to those who bother to ask. Hadrian seems uneasy, as of late. I imagine it's because Samhain is soon approaching, father, and the date holds no fond memories for him. What do you think I should do? I want to invite him to join me in ritual, if only so he's not alone on the day he lost the last of the family who cared for him, but... I also fear that while Hadrian is accepting of our customs and rituals, even going so far as to ask Heir Carrow about it, I fear it may be too much for him so soon- even more so with the Potter’s all being staunch supporters of Dumbledore. I have trouble envisioning such a scenario, but… I cannot deny the thought hasn’t crossed my own mind."
It was a small excerpt of one of the much larger letters that Theo had sent him, and Theodorus couldn't help the bit of stone cold worry-dread-hope that filled his gut when he read the name Peverell. There had been rumors- he’d missed the last two meetings due to health setbacks- in the Wizengamot about the Peverell and Slytherin Seats showing back up, right alongside the rumors of the Potter and Black seats kicking Dumbledore out of him and refusing anyone who tried to sit on them. Even Lord Malfoy had given the Black Seats a try, but had stated outright that he didn’t think the seats were for him.
Minister Fudge, in a rare twist of showing his own House Pride (the man was scarily good at making others underestimate him) had been blocking each and every attempt people made at figuring out who the seats were responding to. The fact that the seats had (most likely) responded to the Potter Scion claiming the family name... Theodorus knew it could only mean good things for the future. Hard times were going to come a lot sooner than most expected, but good things would follow soon.
(Perhaps his Lord's goals would soon see fruition, instead of stagnation. Perhaps even the wrongfully imprisoned would soon be set free- and by that, Theodorus idly wondered if Heir- no, Lord. Lord Peverell was the last of his direct bloodline, it was Lord Peverell. Theodorus idly wondered if Lord Peverell had ever wondered about his own godfather, and the supposed 'trial' the man had received for betraying the Potter's. It was laughable- Pettigrew had sworn on his own magic that he was the secret keeper- chosen by Lily Evans herself with the agreement of Sirius Black- and that he'd never once revealed their location to their Lord. It was ballsy of the Potter family to pick someone they knew to be marked by the Dark Lord, but Theodorus supposed that was, in part, the charm and genius of Lily Evans. A man so enthralled by his own madness wouldn’t think to question the strongest link to the Potters with Sirius Black playing the public body double. It had worked, but then… no one was really certain about how the night went down, just the end results, and Theodorus stopped his thoughts from going down that rabbit hole any further. There were too many issues about that night- including the fact that Peter had all of fingers and toes and couldn’t recall ever stepping into a sewer. Peter might admit to being a coward, but even he had more self respect for himself than that.)
Good things were already occurring- with Dumbledore's power seats taken away from him, he no longer could control the Wizengamot. Chief Warlock Ogden, while not a politically savvy person and definitely not someone Theodorus would have voted for, was also good at listening to all sides of an argument and finding a middle ground that would suit the need. Lord Malfoy had even been more helpful than normal, and had a friendly correspondence with Chief Ogden going on.
“Best be on friendly terms with the one in power,” Lord Malfoy had stated when Theodorus had asked about the unusual friendliness that the normally ice-cold man was displaying- it was very uncharacteristic of a Malfoy raised by Abraxas' hand, and Lord Malfoy had even admitted to it. The questioning was more an idle line of wonder as to the intentions behind it- the why , if you will. “You never know when they might seek your aid in something more important.”
It was with this train of thought that had Theodorus setting aside his morning breakfast and calling for his loyal House Elf to bring a quill, ink and some parchment. It wasn’t something Theodorus would normally do, and not something he’d have ever thought of himself- opening a line of correspondence to pave a way for a potential future, rather than a certain one- but he could see the charm of it, and no harm in attempting it himself.
Besides, it might give him something more to do rather than sit in his manor waiting for the next Wizengamot meeting or letter from Theo. It would certainly keep his mind off of the more dangerous thoughts of his- becoming so enraptured in revenge was no way to go about life. His wife had taught him that, is was a bit of stinging heart that Theodorus would admit that he'd not taken his wife's words to heart until Theodore had turned four and, after attempting to cry himself to sleep for a fifth night in a row, asked if his own father was ashamed of him because he lived while his own mother hadn't.
(That had snapped Theodorus Nott out of his own cold haze of listlessness and made him realize what he still had left. With no Monster masquerading as his Lord to try and conscript his son, Theodore wouldn't have to worry about that... but he would have to worry about Dumbledore's manipulations, and well... Theodorus had once promised himself to be a better father than his own neglectful and verbally abusive one.)
"Greeting, Lord Peverell-Potter. I apologize for my suddenness in sending you a letter, however I feel as if I have gotten to know you a great deal through my son's own writing to me about you. I've noticed the fondness in my son's writing as he writes about you and your exemplary exploits, and I can't help but wonder if you wish to re-establish the alliance between House Nott and House Peverell. I have come to understand, and please forgive my assumption if I prove to be wrong, that you are eager to learn of the traditions, culture, and greater magicks of the Wizarding World at large and are considering the Malfoys for assistance. While I normally would agree with you- the Malfoy Library is one of the most expansive, perhaps fourth in all of England- it may be unwise to get their aid so quickly. It is my understanding that you wish to move without Dumbledore suspecting you more than he may already be doing so; publicly getting aid from the Malfoys would do just that. Outside of a certain circle, the Peverells and Potters have had no reason to interact on such an intimate matter- much less in a friendly manner- with the Malfoys. I might have a solution you find favorable, however, hence my wondering above. As you may or may not be aware, the Notts and Peverells have been long-standing allies, and I have the ability to access the libraries of my associates- those in a similar circle to mine own. I would not mind, and neither will those same associates, assisting a bright young mind like yours learn more of the world we call home."
Dumbledore would no doubt suspect regardless of what Lord Peverell did, but at least the Notts weren't as closely watched as the Malfoys were, and Theodorus’ personal Messenger Hawk wasn’t known to anyone except a select few- and most of those select few, Theodorus would be asking for their support in giving Lord Peverell access to their knowledge. After all, there could be no harm done by allowing Lord Peverell to learn of his own history, away from the bigotry of Dumbledore and the corruption he spreads across Lady Magic’s very lifeforce.
Dumbledore, Theodorus had noticed long ago, liked to play with magic that had no right to be changed or forced upon another- case in point, the current Head of House for Slytherin: Severus Snape. Theodorus had been given the very rare honor of seeing first hand the memory of the incident that truly set off the spark of hatred between Gryffindor and Slytherin: A Gryffindor getting a slap on the wrist for attempt at murder and a Slytherin being conned and threatened into a Vow of Silence on the matter. Instead of getting Severus Snape the help he needed after nearly getting mauled to death by a Werewolf… Dumbledore had forced the laws of Lady Magic to bend to his will and bound Severus to James Potter with a Life Debt.
That wasn’t how magic worked, Theodorus knew. Sirius Black and James Potter were too closely knit together for a Life Debt to have worked in that scenario, but Severus’ own ignorance to those particular intricacies had been seen to be his own binding and the magic of the Vow taking hold.
(Dumbledore didn’t seem to be aware that Lady Magic always claimed her due. That the more you forced her to change, the more she retaliated when it mattered most. It was with a feverish haze that Theodorus wished he could have front-row seats to when Lady Magic came knocking for her price.)
As Theodorus sent off his letter for Lord Peverell-Potter with his personal Messenger Hawk, he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he noticed that despite the crisp chill in the air foretelling the ever-approaching march of winter and his own lack of properly padded autumn clothes, that he still felt warm to his very core. Things truly were beginning to look up, and Theodorus Nott could only pray that Madam Fate was willing to forgive his transgressions for his past actions.
To not make him suffer like a fool for being a horrible man in the name of the Monster his Lord had become. To let this be the beginning of spring to the near perpetual winter that those who wished for Lady Magic’s life to be returned to her had been living in for nearly a decade.
Let this one tiny slip of a person with power that Lord Peverell-Potter probably didn’t fully comprehend be the change that the Wizarding World needed to get their sorry little hides in line.
Hope, Theodorus Nott mused as his Hawk quickly vanished from sight with an unassuming letter that would unknowingly change the lives of everyone considered ‘dark’, was a double-edged blade that very easily could swing both ways. Hopefully this time would be different, and perhaps Theodore could finish growing up in a world that wouldn’t condemn him for simply existing outside of Dumbledore’s influence.