Reunited // Rab & Theo

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan Lestrange was sitting in the forbidden forest, waiting.

He hadn't been here in years. Not since his time at Hogwarts... that time felt like another life, now. It had been so long ago, and so much had happened. Rabastan sat on a fallen tree, one leg bent and resting on a branch, his elbow resting on his knee. In his hand he held a lit cigarette. He sat very still, bent forward slightly, staring towards the castle as he took a long drag. His black brows were pulled together slightly as he waited.

Three weeks ago he had heard of a letter that had been intercepted by the Ministry, a letter sent from Hogwarts, addressed to him. It had been a bad idea, sending him a letter like that, a folly. But he could think of only one person at Hogwarts who might want to contact him. Cecilia's last letter to him was still fresh in his memory; He knows...

He had listened for more news, and heard that it had been a girl, and that she had gotten the charges dropped in record time. That confused him, but he had been relieved. His son wasn't going to Azkaban. Even though the news now was that it had been a girl who had sent the letter, Rabastan knew the truth. There was no girl at Hogwarts who would write to him.

Rabastan had waited over two weeks before he first ventured into the Hogwarts forest. To go too soon could be dangerous. In truth, he didn't think it was the best plan. The chances of Theo walking by had to be pretty slim. But at least it was something, and at the very least he could watch the castle from a distance, try to think of a better plan while he waited. He had come back every day since then, and sat for a few hours. One thing he knew; his son had tried to get in contact with him. Rabastan would wait as long as it took. He had to see him, and soon, before he took another risk in trying to contact him.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

It was early, before lessons. Theo's head was pounding and swimming from the night before. The Slytherins had thrown another party and he'd taken it a bit too far again. He was up at what felt like the crack of dawn, and in fact, was relatively early. He didn't have any lesson for quite a few hours, but he couldn't stay cooped up in the sticky, dank dungeons. Not with the sick, churning feeling in his stomach and the deafening pounding in his head. So, he was on his way out. He knew he wouldn't want to fly in this condition, so the Quidditch pitch was out. He'd rather not risk spilling his stomach contents while flying.

So, he chose the Forbidden Forest. He knew it wasn't dangerous during the early morning. Well, not completely safe, but... safer. Lyra had taught him as much when he'd surprised her while hiding in that tree. Well, he hadn't really surprised her, not when she had such heightened senses. But as he made his way to the Forest his brain was racked with morning haze, and brought a hand to his head. He'd splashed a bit of water on his face before he left, but his head was still swimming and pounding and threatening to eat him alive. He hated hangovers. Why did he drink? He let out a slightly frustrated sigh, but welcomed the cool October breeze that was blowing around him. It had been a fairly decent party, his horrid hangover was evidence of that, but the quicker this damn thing went away the better.


He entered the forest slowly and quietly. While he knew the forest was safe he wasn't stupid enough to go in running headfirst all la-dee-da without a second thought. It was the Forbidden Forest, and his head was pounding. He wasn't exactly on top of his game for defending himself against something should it try to attack. But even with a hangover he knew instinct would kick in. He was an excellent duelist and almost nothing thrilled him more than dueling. He was never one for physical fighting, but he was deadly with a wand. He inhaled and stopped at a three, glancing at the ground and trying to gain control of his headache. He stared at a few twigs and kicked the dirt in frustration with his stupidity. But still, at least he was outdoors. At least he was outdoors, out in the open, away from the dark dank dungeons.

He looked up, though, and saw something that had his heart beat faster in his chest. There was someone else in the forest. His eyes widened and his jaw hung open slightly as he breathed in silently through his nose and stared at the figure a bit wide-eyed. It was a man, too old to be a student, certainly. But it wasn't a professor, either. He would have recognized a professor. He swallowed again as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, silent and quick and pointed it at the figure.

"Who are you?" he said, his voice loud and strong and proud despite the pounding in both his head and in his heart. He wasn't in the condition to deal with this shit. Really. But he remained standing still, staring at the figure before him, unafraid.

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan had heard him before he saw him. He wasn't being particularly quiet. He heard twigs snapping and leaves rustling as the boy walked, and he had tensed, ready to move in case he was seen.

But then he saw the boys face, and he froze. He knew who he was. It was like looking into a mirror, one that showed the past. It was like looking at his eighteen year old self. He smiled slightly. Nott wouldn't have needed Veritiserum to tell that this was Lestrange's son. They had the same build, the same colouring, the same unruly dark hair. A part of him wondered if he'd been imagining things. It seemed so unlikely, that out of all of the students at Hogwarts, his son would wander into the forbidden forest. But, then again, maybe it wasn't so unlikely. Maybe this showed that the two of them were alike, in some ways. Both unafraid to break rules (it was the 'forbidden' forest, after all), both light sleepers, both enjoying being outside... Rab wondered if the list got longer.

He didn't speak, not sure what to say, and worried about frightening him. He didn't want to scare him off. But he didn't move, and he let Theo see him.

Instantly the boy pulled out his wand, although he seemed slightly sluggish. He pointed it straight at Rab, and when he spoke his voice was strong, unafraid. Rabastan felt something like pride well up inside of him. He had been worried that Theodore Nott Sr would raise a coward. But this boy was nothing like Nott. He was a Lestrange.

Rab stood up slowly, putting his fag out on the tree he had been sitting on, before putting up his hands, smiling slightly. He doubted the boy could out duel him (although he'd be interested to see how good he was), but he wasn't going to fight him.

This was the first time he had seen his son. Not even as a baby had he been able to lay eyes on him. He looked into his eyes, and saw traces of Cecilia there, too. Theo's eyes were brown, though not as dark as Rab's were.
"Rabastan Lestrange," he said, thinking they may as well cut to the chase. "I heard you tried to send me a letter."

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

Theo stared at the figure as he stood from where he'd been smoking and for only a brief second he allowed fear to grip hold of his heart. Part of him figured if it was someone who meant harm to Hogwarts they'd still probably not mean harm to him. He was on the side of the death eaters, after all. But what if this was a new threat entirely. What if it was someone who meant everyone harm, no matter the side? He pushed those thoughts from his head though, as he sized the man before him up. He was strong, you could tell that just by looking at him. Still, Theo's wand remained raised toward the figure as he waited fro him to reveal his identity. Part of him figured he could've been smarter about the entire thing, but his eyes remained fixed on the character before him.

He watched as the man before him smiled a little, and Theo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Did he think this was funny? Theo didn't. His head was pounding and so was his heart, and well, he was very much awake now. But funny? No, there wasn't an ounce of this that was funny. And then a name passed his lips and Theo felt his blood turn to ice and his heart fall into his stomach and all at once his stomach felt like it was in his throat and he stood there, staring wide-eyed at the man in disbelief. He did think this was funny. It was some kind of joke. It had to be. His jaw clenched and his wand wasn't even in his hand anymore. It must've dropped. He hadn't even had time to register what had happened. Stupid. Now hwas defenseless. His heart felt like it was frozen inside him as he stared at the man. The resemblance was uncanny, now that he'd said it, but... could it really be? After all of these years? His first instinct was to say prove it, prove that he was who he said he was. But wasn't his face proof enough? And the letter? How could he have known about that.

He swallowed slightly, emotions overwhelming him. Happiness, surprise, shock, anger, awe, disbelief. Every single thing he was feeling all at once and his head was just pounding and pounding and pounding. He felt like he could vomit.

"I...I did. How do you know?" his voice was still unwavering despite the amount of emotions that were attacking him. Part of him wanted to hug the man before him, the other part wanted to punch him, though he wasn't sure why. He didn't know what else to say. What do you say to a man who you've known was your father for eleven years, but couldn't find him? Could this really be the man he'd been searching for? Theo looked away for a moment as he bent down to grab his wand among the leaves. The man... Rabastan.... His father didn't seem very interested in fighting, so Theo placed the wand back in his jean pocket and continued to stare in shock and disbelief.

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Theo dropped his wand, and Rab saw exactly the reaction he had expected, written all over his face. He wished there was an easier way to do this, a gentler way, but really there wasn't. He was a wanted man. He couldn't walk into the castle and arrange a sit down with his long lost son. Maybe if things were different...

But they weren't different. There was no point in dwelling on it. Rabastan lowered his hands as Theo dropped his wand. he saw that the boy was nervous at suddenly finding himself defenceless.
"Its okay," he said, quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you."

His voice was rough, and deeper than Theo's. His son was almost a man, but he wasn't completely there yet. He had a deep voice, but Rabastan's voice rumbled like thunder.

He watched as Theo (was it Theo? Or did he prefer Theodore? In his mind, Theodore had always been Theodore Nott, the man who had robbed him of Cecilia, of his son... he knew that Cecilia had called him Rory, but to Rab he had been either that, or Theo) picked up his wand, but this time he stowed it in his jean pocket. He had expected him to ask for proof, or to need some convincing, but he seemed to accept what Rabastan said as the truth. Maybe he saw the striking resemblances between them, or maybe he just thought that no one would wander into the forest and proclaim themselves Rabastan Lestrange, unless that was who they were.

"I...I did. How do you know?"

Rab could see that the boy was overwhelmed, and so when he spoke his voice was slightly softer.
"I have my ways. I heard when a letter to me was intercepted by the Ministry. I knew there was only one person at Hogwarts who would write to me. Incidentally," he added, unable to contain his curiosity, "how did you manage to get the girl to take the blame?"

His eyes examined Theo's face, drinking him in. He looked more like himself than Cecilia. For that he was glad; as much as he had loved her, he didn't want to be reminded of her every time he looked at his son. That would be... too painful. But it at all been a long time ago. He didn't even remember her face any more. Now when he thought of Cecilia, he thought only of killing her husband.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

Theo heard Rabastan say he didn't plan to hurt him and he looked at him strangely. Obviously he didn't mean to hurt him, if he had he'd probably be dead by now, wouldn't he? But he couldn't snap this man's head off. If he was who he said he was... which, there was no reason for him to make it up, if he was being honest with himself. But still he said nothing as the man talked about the letter. Theo smirked at his answer. Of course he would be cryptic.

There was still a wave of confusion surrounding him, and on top of his somewhat crippling hangover he almost wished he was back in bed, back in the dark, dank, stuffy dungeons, far away from all of this. He'd waited his entire life for a day like this, a chance like this, and now that it was finally happening... what was there to say? What could he possibly say to the man who was his father? The man who left him to rot with Theodore for all of those years. He watched as the man seemed to allow questions to churn in his head, and the one that left him was surprising to Theo. His face contorted slightly into one of shock and anger as he stared at Rabastan. Really? He swallowed, closed his eyes, and let out a steady exhale through his nose.

"Eighteen years. And that's what you want to know? About the bloody girl that took the fall for me?" his voice was laced with emotion. There was anger there, but there was something more. It wasn't quite hurt, but it was... something. He looked to the ground shortly before looking back toward the castle. It would be so easy to leave, to go back to Hogwarts... But he'd not be able to forget. It wasn't like his life could just continue on after something like this. It was like a canonball was shot into his life and it hit him right in the stomach, right in the heart, right in the center of everything that mattered. This affected everything he was, everything he would become. He'd wanted nothing more than to reach out to his father, to get to know him, and now he had that chance and what was he doing? Being a child about it?

He lifted his eyes from the ground to meet Rabastan's gaze once more. He had a strong features, and an intelligent look to him. He was a man that Theo already knew he could be proud of. "I didn't get her to do anything. She wanted to. Didn't want me to get locked up... Should've been me, though." he said. Like you he thought. He looked at the man before him. He remembered reading the Daily Prophet about the goings on of Death Eaters. He knew where Rabastan had been for all of those years.

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Theo was angry at Rabastan's question, but he thought he would have been angry no matter what he asked. Rab knew he would have been, in Theo's shoes. It was a lot to take in, and he was young. Unreasonable reactions were to be expected. He was ready for that, and he'd let Theo be angry at him, if that's what he needed.

His voice was full of emotion, and Rab wanted, more than he'd thought he would, to hug him. He wanted to be able to hold his child in his arms. But he thought that would be too much for the boy, right now. Too much, too soon. He didn't want to rush him. Rabastan was the one who had been absent all these years; they'd go at Theo's pace.

Not that it had really been his fault. He had been locked up in Azkaban for twelve years. When he had gotten out, and heard what had happened, gotten the letters from Cecilia explaining everything... well, by then it was too late. Years too late. And he had been in the service of Lord Voldemort. He couldn't make personal calls. Finally his life had slowed down enough that he could get in contact with his son, but there was the problem of the team of Aurors no doubt assigned to hunting him down. He had to be very careful. The last thing he wanted was to get Theo into trouble, or get caught himself, and sent back to Azkaban. But as soon as he'd heard that his son had tried to get in contact with him, he'd know what he'd had to do.

Theo answered his question.
"Don't say that," he replied, sharply. Theo shouldn't joke about being locked up in Azkaban. It wasn't something to be joked about.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, trying to banish the memories of Azkaban prison. At least now the Dementors weren't being used as guards, and the Ministry no longer administered the Dementors Kiss... but even so, Azkaban was no place he wanted his son near.

Rabastan steadied himself enough to react to the rest of what Theo had said, and smirked slightly. He drew the natural, albeit wrong, conclusion.
"Must be some girl," he said, still smiling slightly.

Rabastan ran a hand through his hair, unsure of where they went from here.
"Do you have any questions, Theo?" he asked. He hoped that if Theo preferred Theodore or Rory that he would tell him. He wanted to get it right. He might have called him Rory, if he wasn't too afraid of getting too personal; that might be something only his mother had called him.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

Rabastan told him not to say anything about Azkaban and he knew he must have struck a nerve. He didn't want to go to Azkaban, but there was still a part of him that thought it would be better if he had gone, so Vivian wouldn't have had to suffer through her parents. Even now, after she promised she'd try to get better, he still thought it was unfair of him to have to know the half of it. He wanted to tell Rabastan he didn't knwo the whole story... but Rabastan knew what the inside of Azkaban was like, and if he didn't want Theo to talk about it than Theo was smart enough to listen to him. Rabastan was his father, after all. He watched as Rabstan smirked again, saying that Vivian must be 'some girl.' He rolled his eyes.

"She's just a friend. Vivian. I've got a girlfriend, Daphne" he said. The thought of her brought a smile to his face, but it vanished just as quickly. He looked at his father again as his father asked if he had any questions. He looked at the man and shrugged slightly.

"Thousands," he replied simply, smiling the slightest bit. So his father did want to get to know him.. He wanted to let him in, he wanted to be let in. The realization had Theo chuckling a bit. All of these years, whether he'd admitted it or not, there was a part of him that was terrified of rejection. There was part of him, the same part that blocked out everything about his mother's death, that same seven-year-old boy who would occasionally relive the events eleven years ago, that was afraid that Rabastan Lestrange would want nothing to do with him... But Theo had been wrong. And the fact that he'd called him Theo... Nott Sr. had never called him Theo. Not after his mother's murder. He became bastard after that, every single time. It was like he wasn't a person anymore, not to Nott Sr.

Theo took a few steps forward. They were confident and uneasy at the same time as he approached his father. Part of him wondered what they should talk about now. He asked if Theo had questions. He had more than he could count. Where had Rabastan been? Why hadn't he tried to reach out sooner? Why now? Why did he have to be the one to reach out first? He looked at the man before him and part of him felt like a little boy again, like that seven-year-old who lost so much so long ago. He was only two feet at most away from his father now, and he stared at him as his mind wandered to what his life could have been like if he'd stayed with his mother. How... happy they could have been.

"Why didn't...Why did I have to be the one to reach out? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you just... Didn't care. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me," he admitted, his eyes falling to the ground.

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Theo corrected him on his assumption about the girl, and said that he had a girlfriend. Rabastan was able to catch the slight smile that spread across his son's face as he mentioned her name, before it faded quickly. That was good... he had a girlfriend who was enough to make him smile, and a friend good enough to take a fall like that for him. That was good.

He was glad that Theo had had someone, because he knew Nott wouldn't have been a good father. Not after he'd found out that Theo was his. Not after he'd murdered his mother.

The thought of what Nott had done made Rabastan's blood run icy cold, but he pushed it away. This wasn't the time. It would be, and very soon, he hoped. But not now. Now was about Theo.

Theo, his son, took a few tentative steps towards him, and Rabastan's heart lurched in a way it hadn't done for years and years. He was close to him now, only a couple of feet away.

The first question he asked wasn't the one Rabastan had been expecting. He would have thought the answer to that would be clear... but then again, maybe not. He had thought Theo would ask why he hadn't been with him and his mother, why she had married Nott instead. But if this was what he wanted to know, he'd answer him.

"You know I was in Azkaban," he began. That accounted for twelve years, but Theo wanted to know about the others. Rabastan took off his jacket, tossing it to the floor, and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, holding it out for Theo to see. There, branded into his flesh, was the Dark Mark, although not as it had been when Voldemort had been alive and well. Now it had faded to a scar. But the shape was still clearly visible. "When the Dark Lord broke me out, and I learned about you, and your mother, I had to go to his side. I did his bidding, and fought for him." Rabastan Lestrange didn't speak in the reverent tones that some Death Eaters did about their service of the Dark Lord. "It... it wasn't the time, Theo." He hesitated for a second, then reached out, putting a strong hand on his son's shoulder. "You have to understand, I was a wanted man. I am a wanted man. Aurors were, and are, searching for me. I couldn't risk getting you involved. But when I heard you were trying to get in contact with me..." the rest was evident. When he had heard that Theo wanted him, he had come.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

Theo listened as his father said he was in Azkaban. He knew that. He knew where he was, physically, but why had it taken so long? When he took of his jacket and threw it to the ground, Theo knew what was coming and he felt a lump forming in his throat. His father rolled up his sleeve and there he saw the scar of a dark mark. The same mark that Theo had thought he wanted once. Almost. It was a mutilated scar now, and the way Rabastan spoke about Voldemort... He knew he was right in not fully wanting it. He knew his beliefs were right, but he knew that never goin that far was a good thing. His father wouldn't have wanted that life for him, to lead the same life he did. When Rabastan mentioned his mother Theo felt the slightest bit sick to his stomach, and almost like he wanted to cry. He had no idea what it was like when his mother died. He didn't have a clue. His father would beat him and he had nowhere to go, no one to talk to. Rab was the only other family member he had, and he was locked away in Azkaban.


He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and he looked up at his father and before he knew what he was doing his arms were wrapping around the man who stood before him in an embrace. He hugged the man tight, understanding and hearing in his voice... He would have been there if he could. He knew Rabastan would have taken him away from all of that, if he could. He felt only a few tears well up in his eyes as he hugged his father for the first time. Hugging any fatherly-like figure for the first time. Sure, he'd hugged Theodore when he was younger, but, it was never like this. Even when he was younger there was never this much emotion behind a single action between the two of them.

"I tried to owl you once when she died," he mumbled into his shoulder before finally releasing him. He stood, swallowing slightly the lump in his throat. He didn't want to fall apart like this. Not the first time they met. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about all of this, his mother, her murder, him. Would he ever be prepared? Probably not. He inhaled and shook his head slightly, as if that were going to make his thinking anymore clearly. "I tried to owl you. And... He found me. Beat me. Broke my nose... I never tried after that... Even if he'd let me owl you, it wouldn't have gotten to you... But... I tried," he said. He wanted to get in touch with his father. That was all he'd wanted when his father was younger. He wanted to feel loved as a son, not hated as a mistake. He wasn't even a mistake. He was perfectly on purpose, and yet he wasn't Theodore's son. He was Rabastan's son.

"Why was she with him?! Why was she with that prick and not you!? She'd... she'd still be alive," he said his voice raising slightly. He hadn't meant to get angry, but the anger was there. The abandoned feelings, no matter how coincidental and circumstantial it was, was there. His hurt and anger from his mother was there. His anger wasn't with Rabastan, it was with Theodore. But the raw emotion was still there, and no matter how hard he wanted to he couldn't get rid of it.

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Theo wrapped his arms around him, and Rabastan felt relief wash over him like a wave. Finally, after all these years... this was how things should have been. He should have been here, with his son. He wrapped his arms around Theo, and gripped him hard, thinking that now he had him he wouldn't let him go.

Rabastan reluctantly let Theo pull away from him, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Theo's eyes were brighter than they had been a moment ago, and when he spoke he sounded as though there was a lump in his throat. Rab wanted to let him know it was okay to cry, if that was what he wanted, but he stopped himself. His son was a man now, not a little boy, and it was understandable that he would be put off by the idea of crying in front of him.

Theo told him how he had tried to send him a letter when his mum had died, and what Nott had done. His grip on his shoulder tightened, and he put his other hand up to the side of Theo's face, gripping him and looking him dead in the eyes.
"He will pay," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "I promise you. He will pay, for all of it." If it was the last thing he did, he would make Theodore Nott Sr answer for his crimes, and he, Rabastan Lestrange, would be judge, jury, and executioner.

Rab let his hand fall from his son's face as his voice rose, as he started to get angry. Here was the question he had expected to come first.
"I loved your mother," he said, his voice low and steady, in contrast to Theo's. "Very much. I wanted to be with her, but her family... they had other plans. They arranged for her to marry Nott, and said she wasn't to see me again. But we didn't listen. And then she got pregnant with you..." and everyone had assumed it had been Nott's baby. They had left Hogwarts, and Rabastan and Cecilia had been forced to speak only in secret letters. She had had her baby, he had joined the Death Eaters, and a year after Theo's birth he was in Azkaban.

"Everybody thought you were his. You looked very different, as a baby. And then I was sent to Azkaban, and when I finally escaped I got hold of all the letters from your mum, the ones they hadn't given to me in prison. That was when I found out." Before that, he hadn't know he had a son. He had believed, along with everyone else, that the blonde boy Cecilia had given birth to had been Theodore Nott's. While he was in Azkaban he imagined Cecilia, happy with her son. When he escaped he learned the truth, and that image shattered; it had never been.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

Theo was happy when Rabastan left a hand on his shoulder. He was glad that the connection wasn’t completely broken. It was nice to have some support, both physically and metaphorically. He felt his father gripping his chin, Rabastan’s eyes boring into his own as he promised that Theodore would pay for his crimes. He felt the smallest hint of a smile cross his face as a bit of pride of swelled up within him. His father did care. About him, and his mother, and he wanted to kill his father just as badly as Theo wanted to. He nodded at his father, knowing there wasn’t a need for words to agree on that. If Rabastan wanted to kill Theodore Theo would hand him over on a silver bloody platter.

He listened carefully as Rabastan explained what had happened. How his mother’s family… Lyra and Eadric’s father… hadn’t liked Rabastan and had married her off to Theodore. He swallowed hard at the realization, but his eyes never left his father as he listened to the story of what had happened. He was proud that Rabastan hadn’t given Cecelia up without a fight. He hadn’t really ever given her up. Rabastan told him that he looked different when he was a baby, and he nodded. There were very few pictures of him when he was a baby, but the ones he saw looked nothing like the man he was today. But after Theodore had killed his mother… He got rid of every trace of her. All the photos, all the reminders, and photos of him as a baby were included in that. He got rid of them in an instant never to be seen again.

”I’m sorry… that you didn’t get to say goodbye,” he said quietly. He didn’t know what it would be like to spend years locked up, only to find out the one thing you loved in this world that he cared about was gone, forever, from this world. He knew what it was like to see the only woman who’d ever truly cared about you, the only adult who’d ever truly cared about you be killed right before your eyes, but in that moment he wasn’t sure which one of them had it worse when he came to his late mother. The thought of Theo’s mother brought a small smile to his lips as he lifted his eyes to look at his father right in the face, chuckling lightly.

”Nott… He always used to call me Theo. But mum… mum always called me Rory. As long as I can remember. She would sing to me at night and then say goodnight… but it was always Rory. When he… ya know… he was furious about it.” he paused in his story trying his damndest not to relive the events of that night as he spoke them. ”’is that why you call him Rory? Because he reminds you of your precious Rabastan?’” Theo said, and somehow the words, rather than making him sad, made him proud. A smirk crossed his face as he looked up at his father.

”So in the end the ass never even got what he wanted. You were always better than him, even right up until the end. Right down to what she would have called her child. Because Theodore named me, obviously,” he said with a slight roll of his eyes before he heaved a rather large sigh. It was kind of… nice to be able to speak about his mother’s death and not become a wreck about the events. It was nice to finally meet the man who should have been his father. He wondered if they were similar in any ways. More similar than just looks. He wondered if he’d gotten any of his personality traits, or skills. There was so much for them to talk about….

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[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan listened as Theo talked about his mum, a slight smile on his face. He hadn't spoken to anyone about Cecilia Avery, not since he'd heard of her death, and certainly not in Azkaban. It was nice to be able to hear her remembered by someone who knew her so well. By their son.

The memories may have faded over the years, Rab may not be able to recall the face he had once known so well, but Theo was here, their son was real, and solid, and alive, a living breathing reminder of the time they had had together. Theo had been born out of love, and Rabastan didn't want him to ever forget that again.

He nodded as Theo said that his mum had called him Rory.
"Yes, that's what she called you in her letters to me," he said, smiling. "She told me all about you, before Azkaban." He hadn't been sure, at first, whether to call him Rory or Theo. "I suppose no on calls you Rory, any more." he said.

Something clicked for Rab as Theo quoted Nott, saying that Cecilia had called him 'Rory' because it reminded her of him.
"My middle name is Rorick," he said, unable to help but smile. Cecilia had found a way for him to have a claim to his son. Nott hadn't been able to take that away.

Rabastan noticed for the first time that the sky had grown much lighter. It was getting on, and soon the whole school would be up. He didn't know how much time they'd have (hopefully a fair bit longer, though), and there was something he needed to talk to Theo about before they were interrupted. If someone came by here he'd have to run, until he was far enough away to disapparate.

"Listen, Theo," he said, walking over to a brown leather bag he had left by the tree he had been sitting on, a bag he had taken with him every time he'd come to Hogwarts, just in case. "This is important. I'm in hiding out with my brother- your uncle- in a house not too far from here. Its in the woods, you wouldn't know the area... I'm the secret keeper for the house. Do you know what that means?"

The Fidelius Charm worked by implanting a secret in a persons soul. In this case the secret was the location of the house where Rabastan and his brother were hiding out. Rabastan was the secret keeper, and unless he told them where the house was, the Aurors could walk right by and not know.

Rabastan told Theo where the house was, and how to get to it.

"But you won't be able to send me letters," he said, "owls won't be able to find it. Even if your first letter hadn't been intercepted by the Ministry, it would never have made it to me. So here," he reached into his back, and pulled out a small, old mirror. "Its a two-way mirror. I have the other one. If you ever need me just look into it and say my name. I'll appear in your mirror, and you'll appear in mine. We'll be able to talk to each other."

It was the best and safest way for them to communicate, and it couldn't be tracked, traced or intercepted. If Theo was found with a mirror, no body could incriminate him for that.

"And Theo..." he hesitated. This might be more of a touchy subject, but it was very important, so he went on. "Be careful who you tell. Very careful. You're not secret keeper, so you can't give away our hiding place, but if anyone found out you were in contact with me you'd be in a lot of trouble." Theo must have some idea of the kind of mess he'd be in if that happened; he had had a taste of it with that letter, after all. He was more worried for Theo than for himself, and that had been what had stopped him trying to get in contact with him after the Dark Lord had fallen.

"These girls... Daphne, and Vivian...?" The way he said it made it clear he was interested in last names. "Well... Theo, I know that right now it might seem like you can trust them, especially your girlfriend... but think long and hard before you tell anyone anything. Be very careful. It might seem like you can trust her, like she'd never tell anyone but... that could change." He knew how hard it was to explain to a teenager in love that their relationship might not last forever, but he didn't think his son was as naive as all that. He knew that romantic relationships could be the most intense, but also the most tempestuous; the winds could change in a heart beat. If Theo told his girlfriend about him, and then they had a fight, or broke up... well, hell hath no fury.

[THEODORE JACOB NOTT]

The smirked as he said no one probably calls him Rory anymore. It grew into a full blow smile as he shook his head and shrugged slightly. "Nobody ever did but her..." he said pausing momentarily before looking at his father. "But you could, if you wanted." He smirked lightly, and he let out a laugh when he said his middle name was Rorick. It made him feel like Rabastan had gotten the final word, it was the final knife in the wound, and no matter what had happened to his mother he would always take satisfaction in anything that made Theodore Nott Sr. squirm, angry, sad. If it ruined Theodore's life, it would make Theo infinitely happier.

But as soon as that moment began it ended and Rabastan was walking toward the tree where he'd originally found him. He was telling him to listen to something, and at the question of whether or not he knew what a secret keeper was he nodded. Whatever this was sounded serious. He knew how the fidelus charm worked, and he was hurt by the news that he wouldn't be able to owl him. He was the slightest bit angry with himself for having thought he'd be able to owl him in the first place. He should have known his father was smarter that. He smirked at the thought but listened as his father pulled something out of a bag, but only after he told him where his house was and how to get there. It was a feeling unlike one Theo had ever known. He felt happy, and accepted, and welcome. He knew where he would go for holidays, and after Hogwarts, and for the rest of his life until he could afford to live on his own. He would have a real family, even if it meant living on the run with his uncle and his father. Even if it meant putting himself in danger. He would have a family. He would live with his father. He would have what he always longed for.

But the happy feeling that began to take hold of him was squashed lightly as he said Theo needed to be very, very careful about who he told about this. He looked at him with the slightest bit of confusion, but in another sense he understood. He knew what would happen if people found out he was in actual contact with a death eater. He would be sent to Azkaban, and he knew there would be no one to take the fall for him. And worse than that he would lead them right to his father, and that was quite literally the last thing he would ever want. He nodded in understanding as the gravity of the situation weighed on his shoulders, and he took the mirror.

"Thank you," he said, unable to hide the grin as he placed the mirror in his back pocket, unable to hide the happiness in his voice. He appreciated this small and great gesture more than Rabastan would ever know. And he was thanking him for so much more in that moment than just a mirror. He wanted to be a part of his life. He wanted to Theo to be a part of his. He wanted to have a family, he wanted Theo as a part of his family. He wanted to know Vivian's last name, and Daphne's too, and for what seemed like the nth time, Rabastan said something that shocked and surprised him. He knew it was geting light, so he probably wouldn't have much more time with his father, though he hoped the time wouldn't go by too quickly. But the weight of the words his father had said to him hit him harder than he expected. It made him question things. Could he trust Daphne? Could he trust Vivian? He thought he could, but somehow his father's words hit him. Maybe he couldn't. Not with this. He'd not tell anyone for now, maybe he wouldn't ever. Maybe his connection with Rabastan would stay his little secret, forever.

"Daphne Greengrass, Vivian Blackwell. They're the two people closest to me. Well, girls. Elliot Jameson's my best mate," he said listing the three people who he considered closest to him. In that moment he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust any of them with his secret. Maybe Eli, only because he wholeheartedly supported the Death Eater cause. But maybe even not Eli.

[/blockquote]

[RABASTAN RORICK LESTRANGE]

Rabastan smiled again as Theo said that he could call him Rory. He would do that, although he'd probably mainly be 'Theo' to him. It was what he was used to, although Rory could be a nickname of sorts. He wondered if Theo would call him 'dad', or if it was too soon for that? If it was, then Rab would be fine. He'd leave it up to Theo what he called him. Theo could take things at his own pace.

Theo seemed happy with the mirror, and Rabastan was glad. He was glad to finally have a solid connection to his son, a way to talk to him if he needed to. As long as they both kept those mirrors, there was no danger of the two of them losing touch again. And, thankfully, Theo seemed to heed his warning about being careful of who he told. He had been worried that Theo would be stubborn, and say he knew who he could trust. Often times it turned out that you never knew who you could trust.

He listened as Theo listed off his friends, and provided him with last names. Greengrass... that was innocuous enough. He knew the Greengrass family were pure bloods, but beyond that there wasn't much to know about them. And Jameson, that was the same. But Blackwell... Vivian Blackwell...

Rabastan remembered where he knew the name Blackwell from. It had been quite the story, around the time when Theo had been one, right before Rabastan had been taken to Azkaban. Jack Blackwell, a powerful pure blooded wizard, had gotten a young girl, a teenager only just turned seventeen, pregnant. She had been a part Veela, and from what Rabastan had heard she had gone on to marry John Woods, another powerful pure blood, but one who didn't stick his neck out for anyone. Woods was able to pull a lot of strings, all the time staying neutral in the battle, protecting his own hide. Two families Rabastan wouldn't have trusted with a stick of gum; the Blackwells, and the Woods. The girl, Blackwells daughter, would be about Theo's age now.

"Vivian Blackwell," he said, suddenly serious again, "is she part Veela?" He read the answer in Theo's eyes; clearly he hadn't expected him to know that. "Be careful of her, Theo," he said, his voice very low and serious. "I knew her parents... at least, I knew of them. Not so much her mother, but her father, and the man she married. You can't trust them. Never trust a Blackwell, Theo. Her association with the Woods just makes her even more dangerous... if anything of her step-fathers character rubbed off on her..." Rabastan, of course, knew nothing of Vivian's past, or her relationship with her step-father. But he knew he didn't want his son anywhere near John Woods.

"Don't trust anyone, Theo," he said, putting his hand on Theo's shoulder again, looking him straight in the eyes, "until their loyalty has been tested."

For a moment his resolve on the Blackwell girl wavered. Hadn't she been the one who'd taken the fall for Theo with the letter? Well, it was no wonder she'd managed to get out of it all, and so quickly; John Woods would have seen to that. But still, he couldn't trust a Blackwell, especially not one raised by a Woods.