DOUBLE UPDATE: READ THE CHAPTER BEFORE THIS ONE FIRST.

(fair warning: you're getting a look into Theo's head and he's kind of a psychopath...but like....I had to remind you all that Theo and Rose have the most epic love after that last chapter)

theo pov

There were many lies polished by shiny jewels and tight-lipped smiles in the society we exist in, all hiding a much uglier truth. When I was younger I saw the urge to escape casted in Rose's gaze, almost as if she was desperately trying to claw her way out.

I saw it because I understood.

Did I truly wish to leave the comfortable lifestyle?

No.

I'm not a fucking idiot.

And I don't believe she truly wished to either.

But there was fire there, in her eyes.

One that burned so brightly I decided from a young age I wanted to be ruined by her hand.

I'm reminded by this fact as the leather of my shoes hit the black reflecting tiled floor at the Ministry of Magic, adjusting the popped open collar of the white button-down before reaching a hand into the slacks, the black blazer annoying me in the heat of summer as I approach the greying witch working the desk by my father's office.

What did he do? I wasn't too sure.

I knew he was a major media mogul in the Wizarding World but men like him—you'd never know their true professions or how much blood money they had.

Her dead but green eyes turn up to me before flashing with recognition, features seeming to tense. Although my father hated me visiting him here, Laura never protested my appearance. Truthfully I knew she feared my father and more than likely by extension feared his offspring.

"Mr. Nott"

"Is he in a meeting?"

I don't bother greeting her back, straight to the point as always.

Laura forces a smile, "Yes but I'm sure if you wait—"

Deciding to not give two shits I brush away from the desk before she can finish, pushing open the glass door without a single knock.

My father is sitting behind the thick onyx desk, one of the Minster's lap-dogs across from him and the smell of crisp parchment mixed along with bourbon hits my nose.

"Theodore," My father gazes over, smiling in a way that never reaches his eyes. "Rarity for you to be here"

The air feels thick again upon being in his presence. He wasn't happy to be around me and I wasn't happy to be around him. Things weren't complicated per say, it was simple really. Not to call Draco lucky considering his father is Lucius Malfoy after all but at least Lucius was present even if he was an abusive shit. In his own twisted way Lucius loved Draco, or believed he did. Not the grand Theodore Nott Sr though, he had been a ghost in my life from the day I was born. Filled by bourbon and rage, a wretched man scorned who most definitely didn't know the word love existed. It's clear his sense of joy to see me is all a show for the ministry worker.

"Burke, you remember my son" he waves us off, fingers wrapping around the filled glass of—you guessed it—bourbon.

Burke rises up from the shiny leather seat, offering a hand out. "Nice to see you again, Theodore"

Again?

I take the hand and nod curtly, "You as well sir"

After, I release him and place a hand around the back of the empty chair, eyes focusing in on my father as he raises a challenging brow.

Burke takes note of the sudden tension and grabs a briefcase from the floor slowly.

"I'll assure everything is fine in your absence, hope the island treats you both well" he says to my father.

He leaves with a rather quick pace, footsteps pounding until the glass door shuts back behind him and my father leans up from his seat with suddenly disgusted blue eyes that match my own looking me over. Make no mistake he was a tall man standing high at six foot but the four inches I had against him clearly came from a passed decedent. Still, he appears grand while sitting, almost like a powerhouse.

"Thought you'd finally come to visit?" He spat before tipping back the glass of burnt liquid.

"I don't see you pleading for me to be around," I jeer, coming to rest both my forearms atop the chair. "We have a deal, you stay away—I stay away"

He scoffs, watching me completely unamused. "Well do go on Theodore," he gestures cockily, "I can infer you didn't come to have lunch"

"You know me so well father, it's almost touching" I respond with the utmost sarcasm before my brain refocuses on the task at hand, get information and handle everything before leaving for Venezuela in two days. "Do you have a way I can see the Black family trust?"

This spikes his attention, brows pinching together. "Whatever could you want with that?"

"Need to assure Walburga and Orion planned to leave it all to Ro,"

My voice is calm, even and there's no trace of anything.

He laughs humorlessly, "Why would that be necessary? Walburga is on the verge of immortality if she keeps spindling Rosalie into alchemy"

Just as I'm about to respond the door reopens and I don't spare a glance until the young woman passes by me with a smile of greeting, one in which I do not return. She has to be in her early twenties and wearing a dress definitely not made for the ministry but the stack of parchment gives away she indeed works here. I'm sure most men would let their eyes rack her over from the sandy curly hair down to her pale skin, but I am not most.

Not the right hair color, not the right smile, not the right eyes, not the right opened mind brain, not the right person—not her.

Not Rose.

Fuck sake, I miss the damn girl like hell and it's only been very few days.

I came to a conclusion at a young age, my eyes only focus on one girl and my heart only starts racing for that one specific girl. That never changed, no matter how many balls I went to or how many girls I passed by at Hogwarts.

Never once have I felt an inclining of attraction or anything other than dead all those times.

But when Rose came around it felt like I was seeing her, witnessing the thrill of being in her presence all over again and suddenly I was shinning like the brightest star on this damn planet.

Fuck.

Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose. Rose.

I'm sure they'd lock me in a loony bin if they knew how in love I was with the dark haired girl with enough fire in her gaze to set the strongest man ablaze.

I couldn't give two shits about my fathers approval, I was going to slide the fattest diamond onto Rose's finger and shove it right in his dirty fucking face.

Damn the whole lot to that muggle hell, Rose Black was the perfect human in this world, flaws and all.

'She's messed up Theodore, real bad'

My father said that to me once.

But that was my girl. Messed up, broken, scarred and every other thing under the sun.

A beautiful fucking masterpiece that I wouldn't change for anything.

My attention is brought back to the scene before me as my father laughs at something the blonde says while she lays the parchment down and starts organizing the paper. It's impossible to miss the way his eyes trek down the poor girls back and onto what I'm assuming is her ass before his hand wraps around the back of her thigh.

"Is it the Black trust you wish to talk about or is it dear Rosalie in specific?" He smirks and I feel bile rise up in my throat as his hand disappears under the dress slightly.

He's fucking disgusting and I hate him so very much.

The girl smiles with a quiet laugh and suddenly I'm reminded of the darkness in me that only Rose ever seems to think is okay to indulge in as I contemplate tossing my father through the fully glass wall behind him and into the streets of Wizarding London before throwing the girl right after for thinking anything he says is funny.

Whitman was always trying to to keep me on a leash and although I loved him like a brother it pissed me off. Rose did it too but in a way that didn't ignite anger in me, she would calmly claim killing people for being disrespectful was illogical.

I disagree.

Politely, of course. I'm well-mannered after all.

It's not like I want to go around committing murder or harming people but I believe in protecting the ones you love, compromising morals without question for them.

What do I want to do every time I see some scummy boy stare at Rose in that little fucking skirt at school?

Kill them.

What do I want to do every time someone mouths a bad word about Rose?

Kill them.

What do I want to do every time someone harms Rose?

Kill them. Brutally.

Sounds logical to me.

As expressed before I am not someone who craves to do such things and I'm the one in our group who is eerily calm but the second something has to do with Rose being hurt mentally or physically and so on—something snaps in me. I get filled with such blinding rage I lose every piece of resistant.

So no, I'm not crazy.

Love made me that way but I wouldn't change a thing either.

I know Rose sees it in me, all the bad shit hidden right under the surface, and it matched her own in a way that damns us both for eternity. Hell, she even got off on it. We'd play games of cat and mouse, I'd actually mange to scare her and she'd get thrilled before I'd catch her and pin her up against a wall, watching her heart beat rapidly from the pulse point in her neck—inches between us and groans leaving as we'd brush against each other but never give in.

It was sick and twisted.

Which meant it was perfect.

We're weird, I'll admit that.

"Theodore," My father calls, "Are you going to speak?"

The girl laughs again.

My gaze narrows, words coming out with a bite. "Get rid of the whore and I'll talk"

I wouldn't have called her such if she wasn't blatantly enjoying my fathers sickening attention.

I can practically hear Rose scolding me already.

"Excuse him darling," his hand slips from out of the dress with a grin, patting the girl on the ass. "We can finish the paper work when he leaves"

She bows her head toward him and avoids my gaze while exiting the room. Good, look at me ever again and I'll rethink my decision to not throw you out of the window.

Assumably, his face falls flat once more and he matches my look of menace. "Now tell the truth—what do you want with the Black family trust?"

I circle around the plush chair and take a seat, "Walburga Black isn't going to be here much longer."

He stiffens, the glass he begins to pick up hitting back against the crystallized desk. "What do you mean by that?"

My lips curl up sinisterly as I brace my hands on my knees, feeling the cold rings through the material over my legs. "I mean that stupid bitch can't stop hurting Rose....so do you want to know what I'm going to do?"

"Theodore—" he warns with widened eyes.

My face falls and I lean forward, whispering lowly. "I'm going to get rid of her and I'm going to make it hurt so very badly for every single time she abused Ro"

His breath catches, "You can't seriously—"

"Can't seriously what?!" I snap before leaning back into the chair with a calm voice, lazily draping my arms over the rests of the chair. "Do you really believe I won't do it or that you could convince me otherwise? My minds made up, father."

For the first time in my life he looks scared of me.

"Theodore...." He began, lowering his voice while sitting up straight. "Are you sure this is what you want? To have blood on your hands?"

"Dreamed about it for years and years"

"All of this for a woman who you might never be with?"

The bile rises up once more and I slam my hand onto the edge of his desk, barking out my words. "Get the fucking paperwork"

"As you wish," he mutters and grasp onto the small amethyst to the left, pressing it into the desk like a button. A line clicks and Laura's voice comes out,

"Yes Mister Nott?"

Father sighs, "Bring me all the paperwork on the Black family trust"

"But your next meeting is in—"

"Then put the meeting on hold!" he bites back, "I didn't ask a question—I told you to do something so do it."

Laura's voice shakes in return through the speaker, "Yes sir"

The line clicks and he grumbles while releasing the crystal, immediately grasping onto the bourbon and tipping it back before standing up. "Would you wish for help on looking through the trust? I suppose I could be useful considering you've now made me accomplice to your future assassination"

"If you like," My shoulders roll back, "I just need to make sure whatever stipulations Walburga put in place are gone—there's a spell to fake signature, correct?"

"Yes, Theodore"

"I only need to assure Ro gets everything and can believe Walburga didn't plan to put her through the ringer for the fortune"

She needs to think Walburga loved her.

He hums, crossing over to the glass wall and casting his eyes down at the streets of Wizarding London, hand sliding into the coat pocket of the midnight blue blazer.

"I—" my words run off from the way my heart picks up at the recall of what he claimed before, looking far away from him.

"What Theodore? Speak up"

"Why not me?" I turn my eyes to him, "Why do you think there's a chance she won't be with me?"

A question I don't want the answer to.

"You love each too much—are too far in love" he rests a shoulder against the glass with an eye roll at my shock stricken face, "Oh I'm not fool Theodore, I watched you both grow up so I know you both well"

I don't know what to say back.

"Easily recognizable thing, two people in love. But it won't happen. You'll burn each other alive with that type of passion as history shows."

Scoffing loudly, I look at the bookshelf in the corner of the room as my arms rest back over knees. He couldn't be right? Right? True love was supposed to set your soul on fire, it wasn't supposed to be a walk in the park or someone you simply enjoyed being around. Love, love was supposed to change you and force evolution as two people dance in a burning house without care.

"I wonder," He declares distant minded, gaining my attention back. "How do you think Rosalie will handle this? Surely you can't think she will be fine"

She won't be close to okay.

But Walburga is going to kill her, the woman is fucked up half the time now and when she's not her brain is so scrambled she can't realize that a person, trained or not, can only handle being physically tortured for so long.

I'm doing this because I have to.

And if Rose finds out and hates me for the rest of her life then so be it, she'll be alive and breathing and that's the only thing I give a damn about.

When you do love someone, really love them, you have to make hard decisions and this is no exception. Yes, Rose will fall to ruin at first but she'll get back up and this time Walburga won't be there to break her back down. If there was another way, one that didn't cause her harm, I would take it but there's not.

I'm reminded of the night we returned back from Hogwarts a week ago, I had came over as usual and everything was fine until Rose dipped down stairs to get some water. Next thing that reverberated through the house were her screams, and I'm not talking about a pained scream that one hears when stabbed.

No.

This was guttural, mixed with cries and pure agony. The Cruciatus curse wasn't a knife to the neck or a blade carving into someone, it was piercing like a million boiling red knives—burning every inch of your skin and brain. If someone casted it once they were sentenced to life in Azkaban, that should say enough in itself.

My father's used it on me before, very few times that I could count on one hand. He has different methods of inflicting pain and getting results. But every time I scoop Rose off the ground and watch as a mediwitch nurses her to health, I'm reminded of what that curse felt like and I tremble with rage, not knowing how the girl I loved was still breathing.

I didn't believe in gods but when her eyes snap back open after enduring another curse, I contemplate that maybe there is some forces above because it should be humanly impossible to survive so much.

To think, Walburga used that on her as a six year old child, given it was brisk but still. She's continued on to this day and claimed it was called training. How sick is that? How does someone live with themselves knowing they 'trained' a kid to endure copious amounts of torture?

Even though everyone who knew did their best with Rose, I still feel as if her pain was overlooked by outliers. She was always trying to be better, undo everything the many before from her family caused. There was always some excuse Walburga had to give, whether it be 'training' or 'punishment' or 'deserved' but never did the woman think of the pain she caused.

I was seven when I first found out, visiting Rose in a hospital bed and even then as kids, we weren't clueless.

I don't think any of our families ever took note of that. From Rose's pain, to Draco's, to Whitman's, and even Blaise's—they thought we didn't know what was happening.

But we did and we knew it wasn't love that any of us were receiving.

So we stayed close together and gave that to each other instead, we made a family that would never purposely each other. Maybe we didn't have a particular place to call home and we were all pretty fucked up but we had that in one another, home.

I was going to take Walburga's life away with my bare hands and I wasn't going to feel a damn thing.

Salazar, I'd probably enjoy it.

Yeah—I'd enjoy it.

"Theodore?" Father hums, "I asked if Whitman and Draco are in on this as well"

"Of course. They're like brothers to me"

He laughs humorlessly, "What do you know about family?"

"What do you is the real question?" I shoot back.

My hands clasp together between my spread knees as I lean over and he turns toward me with a heavy sigh.

"Theodore, you're mother—"

"Don't talk about my mother." I bark back, feeling my eyes sting. "You out of everyone do not get to say her name"

His lips curl with distaste, jaw ticking in sheer annoyance. "Are you sure about them? Are they willing to go that far because I can promise you killing someone is one thing—living with it is whole other."

"Ro is ours." My hands clasp together between my spread knees as I lean over, "Not Walburga's, not her shit father's, not any of those stupid little friends she made at Hogwarts. She's ours and I can assure you we protect what's ours."

"But—"

"And so what if they backed out? Which they won't but either way I'll kill the bitch myself with no remorse. I don't need help or coddling"

His gaze narrows and he pushes off the window, placing the glass back onto the desk. "Do you want everything in her name? All the businesses, vaults, manors, and so on?"

"Every damn thing." I confirm, losing the edge to my voice to hopefully swing him in the direction I need. "And I want you to hand the part of the illegal business you share with her family—sign the CEO position over to me"

Truthfully, I didn't give any fucks for the business adventures, I just refuse to let my father have any power of her money. Me, Draco, and Whitman planned everything out. Draco should be talking to Lucius about the business he went in on with Walburga and Orion at this very minute—we were both going to severe any control our fathers could have over Rose. If that meant we had to learn to run a business? So be it.

He laughed at the idea, finding humor in my audacity as he sits back down. "Hilarious Theodore, truly. When I'm dead and gone then maybe I'll let you have control over a multimillion corporation"

"You'll still be doing the work so therefore you can assure I'm not fucking anything up" I shrug to conceal how I really planned to take control, "Just want the ownership to ensure you're not going to try to use this against her, you know, the fact she would become owner of a highly illegal business?"

Unclasping his suit jacket, he begins staring me down. "You think that releases what I can hold over her head? Lucius is still in buisness with the Black family and always will be—we started that corp years ago with Orion"

"Father, you could buy the whole of Britian if you wanted. What's the big deal about me taking one small venture away? Don't pretend like that money puts a dent in your pocket." His eyes search for any lie but he won't find one, I'm too good at this. "You're right, Lucius still has buisness with her family but that's none of my concern"

Lies.

Draco would manipulate his father just as I'm doing, I have no doubts.

"And I still get control? I can't have you embarrassing me by actually running the damn thing. I may be able to fix things in public image but my reach only stretches so far"

Yes. Give in.

By the way his shoulders roll I know he's loosening up at the idea.

"Of course, father"

Suddenly he's smiling and whatever is about to roll off his tongue can't be good, "I ask you—what will you give me in return?"

I don't even have to think about it, "Anything"

His smile twists into a smirk, "Anything?"

"Yes."

"There's going to be an uprising of deatheaters at the World Cup at the end of summer" He leans on the desk, "Join me in the attack and you have a deal. I'll have those papers brought in with her trust and sign it over right now."

Deatheaters? World Cup?

What is he talking about? Voldermort is gone.

"Why?" I ask hoarsely, my throat suddenly closing.

I didn't want to become him.

Did I have an issue with them murdering muggleborns and half-bloods?

No—not at all.

But did I want to become the man he wished me to be?

Never.

"Because it's time you get ready for what your future is going to be. Of course you don't have to do it, I can stay as the executive over that buisness and control it. Maybe even use it to finally control Ro—"

He doesn't have to finish say the name before my voice comes out desperate, "I'll do it."

"I could almost cheer" he winks and settles back into the chair victoriously, "You better hold Rosalie close, the Dark Lord's going to want her and what he wants—he gets. There's no different way, whether it be for Dumbledore or the Dark Lord, she will be used for everything she has."

I know.

I want to throw up.

If she'd let me, I would take her so far we'd never be found.

"And you need to make sure no one finds out about your ability to tell of the future—it'll make you just as special to him"

I thought he adored Voldermort?

Guess it makes sense, one thing to fight for a dark wizard but another to be his sword.

Then again, my father was apart of a inner circle of deatheaters—always one of the closest to Voldermort.

But as seconds pass I realize what he means, he might not love me but not even someone as cruel as him would wish to go from simply an inner circle memeber to the right hand. Too much pressure, too much at risk.

"Is he...really coming back?" I lower my voice to a whisper, raising a dark brow.

My fathers head turns to the door and makes the glass look as if it's being taken over by blackened smoke, blocking the view from anyone before he starts to pull his sleeve up, revealing the faded but infamous dark mark.

I've seen it on him and my friends parents many times but usually much more faded.

"He's gaining power again, I don't know where he is and I'm not going to search but soon we'll be at his mercy—forced to plead for never looking"

"But how?"

"He's immortal Theodore and someone you should look up to but I don't wish for you to become his main focus so young, only want you to join him as I have."

Does he hear himself? Doesn't want me to become a power tool but does want me to fight for the dark lord as a child?

That's not a parent.

He pulls his sleeve down and light fills the room back up at once, "So you're willing?"

I'd die for her.

I'd kill for her.

There's no line I wouldn't cross.

My throat bobs as I meet his gaze and speak the words I know will send me deep under, "I'm willing."

_______________________________

A/N: me coming back with a double update??! woohooo

—I've been waiting so long to reveal how crazy Theo is🤭🤭

—I despise his father so so so much...

—the way him and rose are like Morticia and Gomez Addams🫠🫠

—him willing to actually do ANYTHING.

—I LOVE THEODORE NOTT. THAT IS ALL.

—whose ready for summer to fly back? ME.

anyways....stan Theo for clear skin

love u guys <3