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Theo Nott didn’t say much and, if he could help it, he’d rather say nothing at all. Words felt foreign on his tongue. Whenever he uttered a sound, whenever he let his vocal cords make noise, he’d have an overwhelming urge to fall to the floor and cry. He couldn’t stand it.
Theo managed to survive for seventeen years while making as little noise as possible, and hoped that once he came of age, he would suddenly feel different, that he would become a man, that he would become independent, that he would understand things as they were, as everyone else saw them. He didn’t. He was more confused than ever. Theo Nott was just a boy who managed to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower, stare out over the edge and see nothing but the ground that loomed a hundred feet below.
Hogwarts was no longer a safe haven, if it had ever been one at all. The Carrows and the constant torture he was meant to inflict on the other students on a near daily basis had destroyed all notion of refuge for the castle he’d managed to call home for the last seven years. The anxiety of his new circumstances had rendered Theo nearly mute and the only thing keeping him sane was when he thought about Blaise who, while not particularly safe in his mother’s care, was still in Italy and far away from all this nonsense.
Because this was nonsense. And the edge of the Astronomy Tower drew him in closer… and closer… and—
A paper crane flew right into Theo’s chest, startling him into taking a step back out of sheer bewilderment. He caught the crane on instinct, crumpling it a little where it was smashed against his chest. He stared down at it, feeling nothing short of awe at this mundane item in his hand. He unfolded it because something innate in his nature told him to do so. There were words on the page, three lines in heavy black ink.
Hello.
I have a question.
Why do witches and wizards need wands?
Theo blinked. He turned and took a seat on the cold stone steps that led back into the castle, the dangerous edge forgotten, if only for a moment.
So, why do witches and wizards need wands? The corruption of magic was strong in the Western world, long before The Dark Lord used it to discriminate against a marginalized group of people for his own political gain. In all honesty — and this is something Theo’d been thinking for years — wizards did not need wands to perform magic. Magic did not need direction, as evidenced by the fact that children performed wandless magic long before some even knew that magic existed. It’s the same way Theo felt about verbal incantations. Theo has been doing nonverbal magic well before they were taught it during 6th year.
His father told him he was stupid, that he was worthless, that he could hardly be expected to learn magic if he couldn’t even voice the incantations. He told Theo on more than one occasion that he was undeserving of the Nott name, but, unfortunately for Nott Sr. the blood that ran through Theo’s veins were the only his father would ever be able to pass on, so he was stuck with him.
It was Blaise who dismantled the notion that Theo was useless over the course of their first three years of friendship, until one day Theo realized he was actually quite brilliant. He was able to see things that others couldn’t. He could memorize a list of runes with a two second glance and solve an arithmancy equation in his sleep. Meanwhile, he was absolutely confounded by what, for most others, came naturally, like eating in a room full of people or having a conversation. It was this dichotomy that dogged every step of Theo’s schooling and eventually brought him here, to the Astronomy tower, overwhelmed by the life he was currently living and longing for peace in any way he could get it.
But the question was nice, too.
Why do witches and wizards need wands?
Well… they don’t.
Theo crept back down to the Slytherin dungeons and went to sleep dreaming of a game of wizarding chess with Blaise in a future that may never come. He returned to the Astronomy tower the next night after another school day full of agony, charged toward the edge, and hoped for another letter to smack him in the chest before his footstep met open air.
A paper quidditch snitch, its wings catching Theo in the eye, buzzed like a bumblebee for several seconds before settling in his open and eager palm.
Theo almost ripped the snitch in his haste to unfold the letter.
Hello.
I have a question.
Why does Harry wear glasses?
This question raised a lot of questions about the author of these letters.
Is the author of these letters talking about Harry Potter? How old is the author of these letters? What is the purpose of the author’s letters? Do they know who’s reading these letters? Will Theo ever find out who writes these letters? Are there more letters?
Theo looked back up, back to the ledge that he’d been toying with the last two nights. He took a step closer and than another one—
A butterfly fluttered around his head and perched on Theo’s left shoulder. He pet the silky paper wings with a pointer finger before gingerly extracting it from its resting place like a treasured possession. He carefully unfolded the delicate wings and grinned at the unhurried scrawl across the page.
Hello.
I have a question.
Is it fair that thestrals don’t get to be invisible by choice and that demiguise do?
Another step back and another step forward brought a paper frog springing toward Theo’s face. The man caught it deftly just before the tip of his nose. He opened it.
Hello.
I have a question.
Is it possible to apparate to the moon?
An origami bat flapped in his ear and Theo snagged it eagerly with fists still holding the other letters. He left the edge of the Astronomy Tower for fear a change in the breeze would take all his letters away. He took a seat on that same stairwell as the previous night.
Hello.
I have a question.
What time is it?
What time is it?
Theo closed his eyes and let that question sink in. Those four words were so mundane that it became outlandish when compared to the question on the other letters. But he almost liked this one more.
It was late. He should head back down to the dungeons because these days it was not safe to break the rules. This year so far under The Dark Lord’s control had been a nightmare.
But there was always hope that the times would change and this would be nothing more than a distant memory.
There was always hope.
***
Theo slipped away from the Great Hall leaving Blaise and Daphne to dazzle the other socialites alone.
Blaise had clearly been surprised when Theo wrote him about wanting to attend their ten-year school reunion. Theo couldn’t blame his friend for his confusion as he had been nonverbal for years and interacting with other people still made him nervous.
But Theodore Nott, the last of the Nott family lineage, wanted to return to the astronomy tower one last time and give back the letters that kept him alive. It was the least he could do.
As he rounded the last corner of the staircase, Theo found he was not alone in the tower. There was a girl. She had long red hair and tired eyes. Her legs dangled over the stone ledge and her gaze was on the distant town of Hogsmeade. A little origami horse trotted over the bumps of her thighs. She was smiling.
The letters he gathered a decade ago felt heavy in his pocket as he considered making a hasty retreat. Ultimately, he strode forward and tapped Ginny Weasley on the shoulder.
She jumped and clutched at her frantically beating heart. Theo held up his palms as if to say he hadn’t meant to frighten her.
“Oh, it’s okay. You just… wow, you have very silent footsteps.” She laughed and Theo thought he might have smiled. “Is there something you need, or…?”
Theo looked again at the tiny origami horse and made a split-second decision. He pulled out the letters and presented them to Ginny.
“Oh.” She smiled again, this time a little more timidly. “I thought there were more, but I wasn’t positive. I wrote them so long ago.”
Theo scratched his head, unsure how to continue this interaction. Did he speak? If so, what would he even say? Would she appreciate how grateful he was for the letters not meant for him?
“We should fold them back up,” said Ginny, patting the spot next to her in silent offering. “If you want. If you want to keep them though, that’s fine too. I might keep this one,” she said, pointing to the little horse. “I’m not sure what it says yet.”
She grinned again and Theo took a seat. He nodded his head, hoping she understood that he would very much like to fold the letters up again.
“Great!” Ginny pulled four letters from her own pocket and began folding them back up against the stone floor between their legs.
Theo, who had gone through a 2-month obsession with Origami folding, began to crimp and crease the first letter he opened, the one asking about wands, into a tiny dragon. The silence was nice and the night was beautiful. The edge was safe.
A couple hours later and a bit of help from some nonverbal and wandless magic, nine letters were hidden in the rafters once more. Then Ginny picked up her horse.
“Do you want to read it with me?” she asked.
Theo smiled and nodded.
“Okay.”
Hello.
I have a question.
Are you hungry?
Theo stabbed the paper with an enthusiastic pointer finger and laughed a silent laugh. He nodded vigorously and Ginny let out an audible giggle. She linked their arms together and turned them away from the edge.
“Alright, let’s see what they have at the buffet tables.”