Transgender Theo Nott, Harry Potter, and the Price (part 7) (Patreon)

Theo sat in his corner of the Slytherin common room, watching Draco hold court with Goyle and Crabbe. Every once in a while, someone would look over at him. The rumors were circulating around the common room, even though his home life shouldn’t matter to these people. Most of these students had some connection to marked Death Eaters, and the marks were growing darker. If war came, most of them would get dragged into the conflict.

Why was his family drama more interesting than the possibility that the Dark Lord was going to use them as fodder in a new war? Did none of them worry that the heir of Slytherin had returned at the same time that marked Death Eaters were exchanging looks and talking about how Severus Snape had cleared the way for the Dark Lord?

Blaise sat next to him. “Draco has a new favorite target.”

“Lady Nott is not his business,” Theo said. Of course the woman who raised him hadn’t been Lady Nott—not technically. She and Theo’s father had killed the Lady Nott. That was old news to Theo. His aunt had revealed the sordid history not long before Theo started at Hogwarts, but he had hoped that some other drama would distract his fellow Slytherins. Last year, Longbottom’s disappearance and then the disappearances of both the charms teacher and the defense teacher had kept everyone busy forming theories. Everyone knew the defense position was cursed, but having Flitwick disappear so soon after Longbottom created a stir. Even before that, the Nott drama had been secondary to the daily routines of school and complaints about the Hogwarts’ inadequate curriculum.

However, Draco was now rehashing Theo’s home life to cover for his own mistakes. Not long ago, he had been telling everyone that he was the heir of Slytherin, declared it proudly in the common room and had been indiscreet enough that even the other houses had heard whispers of his claims. When students, particularly mudbloods, were petrified and waiting for the cure, claiming to be the heir had been exciting. Draco treated it like a game, even though more serious players for the leadership of Slytherin had moved cautiously.

But ever since Penelope Clearwater had died, Draco had been scrambling to find something to usurp Draco’s spot in the limelight. Theo just didn’t want to be the sacrificial lamb. However, he was also afraid to go up against Draco. He had too much influence over the rest of the house to challenge.

And Theo had too much to lose.

“My mother would have given yours advice on how to avoid being caught.” Blaise offered a quick smile, an easy camaraderie that invited Theo to share his thoughts. They had both been raised by women known for killing. The Nott wet nurse had slept with Lord Nott and taken over Lady Nott’s role. Blaise’s mother had killed husbands and rivals enough to build an empire. However, Theo knew that Blaise only wanted to ingratiate himself and gain information—either for blackmail or to convince himself that committing murder for social gain was normal. Maybe then he could excuse his mother’s actions. Theo didn’t respond.

After a while, Blaise retreated.

Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass settled nearby and Theo hoped their presence would chase others way. Theo watched the girls while pretending to read. He couldn’t understand Pansy. She had a pretty face, but she went out of her way to downplay her beauty—eschewing make up and wearing her hair in the most unflattering ways. Sometimes she pulled it back in a simple band to keep it out of her eyes, but other times she walked around looking as if she’d forgotten to comb it after getting out of bed.

Daphne made more sense to him. Her lips were reddened and subtle shades of gray on her eyes made her blue irises more piercing. She didn’t look painted, but still… she had a subtle hand with a make up brush and he admired that. He envied that.

When he’d been young, his mother—his wet nurse—had let him sit in her lap while she applied her make up, and Theo had itched to touch it.

Across the room, Blaise settled next to Draco, and even though their low voices didn’t carry, Theo knew they were talking about him. People kept glancing over, but Theo kept his gaze on his book.

“I had heard Theo is gay, so perhaps his father blamed his mother for that disgrace. It would be a motive,” Blaise said loudly enough to Theo to hear. All the blood drained from Theo’s face.

“Nah,” Draco said. “He spends too much time staring at Daphne for that to be true.”

Theo looked up at Daphne, and she gave him a smug smile—certain that he wanted her the way most of the boys in Slytherin wanted her. And that smugness also made it abundantly clear that he would never get her. He didn’t have enough to offer, not with his mother long dead and rotting and his father still fighting the DMLE’s continued efforts to put him back in Azkaban.

“Maybe he’s trying to figure out how to copy her skill at attracting boys,” Blaise said. He smiled cruelly, well-aware that his shot had hit a vital organ.

Theo snapped his book closed. “Perhaps you care too much about how others’ attract boys—a flaw you inherited from your mother. After all, I have heard that she has been spending an inappropriate amount of time with the very Muggle Minister of Economic Development. Perhaps his wealth makes up for his lack of magic when it comes to your mother’s bed.” Theo counter-attacked with his most damning information, and Blaise shot to his feet, his hand on his wand. Theo pulled his own wand, holding it at his side. Slughorn would kill him if he started a duel in the common room, but at least that death would be metaphorical. Blaise looked angry enough to literally kill.

So the rumors were true. There was no other reason for him to get so emotional. Draco looked from one to the other with unvarnished glee. The little monster would probably bounce up and down and clap like a demented toddler if they tried to kill each other in front of him.

Knowing that he had backed both himself and Blaise into a corner, Theo strode out of the common room, slipping out of the dungeons and heading for the north tower. He couldn’t go to Slughorn. Blaise was free from the taint of the Death Eaters, and Lord Nott… wasn’t. Theo’s father was one of the Dark Lord’s oldest and most ardent supporters—less vocal than Lord Malfoy who took the Dark family’s agenda to the Wizengot, but much more active behind the scenes. Slughorn made clear his disdain for Theo and his father.

But Slytherin wasn’t safe for him anymore. Blaise would do anything to take revenge for such an accurate attack, and Theo had too many vulnerabilities. Hogwarts seemed to understand his need to escape, shifting staircases to ease his way.

Maybe the heir of Slytherin would solve his problem by killing him. Then he wouldn’t have to continue this tap dance between his house mates and his father and the expectations of everyone who looked at him knowing he was the son of *that* Nott. And the heir *would* kill him. Maybe the other Slytherins felt safe, but Theo knew his heart was as stained as the blood-traitor Weasleys. Theo was a body traitor. He had tried to deny it for a long time, but he knew the truth, and if the heir of Slytherin could see into his heart, he would know too.

Theo reached the north tower, his stomach in knots and his head throbbing. He was supposed to be Slytherin. He was supposed to know how to navigate the world and make reality bend to his needs, but all he could think was that he was just too tired to continue. He would throw himself off the tower except the windows were charmed to prevent that sort of solution.

Solution.

Theo knew it was a coward’s escape and not a solution, but his heart still longed for death. Living was too hard. The air trembled, and Theo whirled around, his wand up as he expected to see Blaise step out from under a disillusionment charm. Instead a creature stood in the middle of the tower room. Tall. Imposing. It had the high cheeks and delicate brows of a woman but the broad shoulders and strong chin of a man. That should have looked wrong, but it was perfect. This creature was perfect.

It held out a hand, and Theo didn’t hesitate. He accepted the wordless offer.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

When the vibrations cleared, Theo found himself in a fortress, one clearly owned by a Dark family. A sacred hearth dominated the center of the room, raised to make it more prominent. On the far side was a staircase with dragons caught mid-flight depicted in iron and the walls displayed streaks of precious metals that only the richest of families would have been able to resist mining. Theo’s father would have destroyed the whole fortress to get at that wealth, but Theo thought this place was far too beautiful to sacrifice for something as vulgar as galleons.

A man dressed in black hurried into the room, pushing open masterfully crafted double doors carved with a wilderness scene. He stopped just inside and bowed deeply.

“My Lord. Do I take it I am to care for another child?” The air wavered and the creature vanished without answering.

The man sighed and studied Theo.

“I am not a child. I am almost thirteen,” Theo said firmly. He was not a child. The man stood and raised a single eyebrow in Theo’s direction. It was clear he was unimpressed. Theo gasped. “You’re Professor Snape.” Theo’s father often talked about how Snape was proof that good blood could overcome bad. Despite having a Muggle father, Professor Snape had embraced his heritage as part of the Prince family and had sacrificed his life to help the Dark Lord return. Many of the old families had begun to soften their hatred for half-bloods because Professor Snape was such a great man. One could not hold him up as the epitome of service to the Dark Lord while denying that other half-bloods could be good servants to the Dark.

“I am not a professor.” Before he could say more, children came in. Two were unfamiliar, but Theo recognized the third.

“Longbottom?” Theo couldn’t hide his shock. Some rumors had him dead, some by Quirrell’s hand and some by Flitwick’s. Others insisted that Longbottom hadn’t vanished from the various family trees of those related to the Longbottoms, and those people claimed he was being held captive, either as a hostage against the Dowager Longbottom’s vote in the Wizengot or to exact some long and painful retribution for his parents’ actions during the war.

“Nott!” Longbottom sounded happy as he tucked his wand into a wand holder and stepped forward, offering a hand of friendship. “Well-met. Do I assume you were also on the verge of losing your life?” Longbottom sounded almost amused by Theo’s predicament.

Theo drew himself up and sneered. “What business is it of yours?”

Longbottom froze.

Professor Snape stepped between them, and Theo shifted his gaze to him. Snape could be an ally. Theo would make him an ally. If he had only one person in his corner, he could survive anything.

“Children, return to your tasks.”

“But Severus,” the girl complained. She stared at Theo with knowing eyes that made him keenly uncomfortable.

“Now, brats,” Severus said firmly. The boy with wild hair caught Longbottom’s hand and pulled him away, herding the girl in front of him. Theo watched while they retreated, closing the door behind them. Only then did he turn his attention to Professor Snape.

“Is the Dark Lord here?” Theo wasn’t sure he wanted the Dark Lord to return, not when Theo had secrets that would get him killed. Or worse. However, if this was the Dark Lord’s refuge as he recovered, then Theo would do anything necessary to remain in his good graces.

“Do you want to see the Dark Lord?” Snape asked. HIs voice was oddly devoid of emotion.

“Of course.” Theo tried to put as much enthusiasm as he could into his answer.

Master Snape studied him, clearly trying to judge whether Theo was worthy. But he had more right to be here than Longbottom, whose parents had fought against the Dark Lord. “Come,” Snape said. “Sit with me.”

Theo quickly moved to obey.

“Every child brought here has come from a situation of…” Snape hesitated. “They were not all in immediate danger, but they were all in situations a young person should not have to handle alone. Do you know who brought you here?”

“No, sir.” If he had to guess, he would say vampire, but no description of a vampire included such ethereal beauty.

“They are Fae. This is a Fae stronghold—Prince Keep.”

“Your family’s stronghold?” Theo guessed. He had heard that the former Lord Prince had refused to acknowledge Snape but this was an ancient family home. Some of the Dark families had them, homes tied to magics so old that it seemed to soak into your bones when you were there too long. This felt like that.

“No, this place is only a few years old.”

Shock robbed Theo of words for a moment. No modern craftsman, no matter how talented, could make something this ethereal, this wild. This keep with its wide windows that overlooked snow-covered mountains belonged to the old world. “How?” Theo demanded before his common sense could remind him that he had no business making demands of a man as great as Master Snape.

“Because the Fae wished for me to have a place. They wished for me to provide a magical education for those children they chose to remove from the world. Why they would wish to do so is a secret the Fae have kept to themselves.”

“But the Dark Lord?” Theo was confused.

“Is not here,” Snape said. “I cast a Fae circle asking for guidance, for an escape from the conflict between Light and Dark. This was how the Fae chose to answer my request. So I belong to the Fae as much as this keep does.”

Relief washed through Theo. Until this moment, he had not realized how much he wanted to live and how much he feared the Dark Lord and the heir of Slytherin would not allow him to do so.

“I assume that means you have no love for the Dark Lord,” Snape said dryly.

Theo froze. Master Snape was famous for his dueling skills and potions. He could kill Theo as easily as the Dark Lord. “Of course I do, sir. My father, Lord Nott, has supported our Lord from the moment he began his rise to power.”

Snape chuckled, and the hair on Theo’s arms stood on end. “Your father is a narrow-minded bully who would take any excuse to hurt others. Is the bastard still in Azkaban?”

Theo blinked, not sure how to navigate these political waters. Snape must be testing him. Theo strengthened his occlumency shields and sat up. “My father is free from his false imprisonment and ready to return to his Lord’s side.” That was true enough. “He has told me many stories about your great service.” Theo calmed the storm of his thoughts.

“I could care not less about your father’s opinion. How is your mother?”

Theo choked off a sob.

“Child?” Snape turned all his attention on Theo, and Theo imagined those dark eyes could see into his innermost soul. After all, this was the master occlumens and legilimens who had fooled Dumbledore into believing he had changed sides. Theo hid his most shameful secrets as deeply as he could, allowing only the more mundane scandals of the Nott household to rise to the surface of his mind.

“My mother has been dead since I was a child. The woman who cared for me was a wet-nurse who rose above her station.”

Snape sucked in a quick breath and then he moved closer before he grabbed Theo’s hand. “Whether Sephne Nott was the woman who gave birth to you or not, she loved you with all her heart and soul. She was your mother,” Snape said fiercely. “Never doubt that and never doubt that anything she did, she did to protect you. Nothing more.”

Theo tried to hold back the dam of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “My aunt… she publicly challenged…” Theo stopped.

“And of course your father was too much the self-serving coward to stand up for the woman who had dedicated her life to the Nott family,” Snape said with disgust. “Sephne never cared much for dueling, and her parents could never afford her the education that would have prepared her. I can well imagine how it ended. I am sorry.”

That broke some final bit of control Theo had and for the first time, he cried for the woman who had raised him, who had chased him about the manner threatening to eat his feet only to scoop him up and tickle him when she caught him. He cried for the woman who had held him when his father had been sent to Azkaban and held him when his father returned so full of rage that Theo had been a convenient target for his emotions. He cried for his mother.

And Snape held him. He rocked back and forth, his strong arms around Theo and for once Theo didn’t care about alliances or projecting strength. He cried.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Remember, if the lesson is too much, you may go back to your room,” Snape said, his hand resting on Theo’s shoulder.

Theo straightened up. “I am an excellent student. I will do you proud.”

“I know you will.” He hesitated before he added, “Neville is entirely too Gryffindor and Harry has the questionable trait of channeling Helga Hufflepuff any time relationships are involved. Seek out the company of young Dinae Carrow. She is most likely to understand your dilemma, and remember, a good Slytherin trusts actions over words. Watch how the children act and decide for yourself whether anyone here is an ally to the Dark Lord.”

Theo wasn’t sure what that meant, but he understood that he had to make better political moves than he had at Hogwarts. He needed to find where both the formal and informal power lay and then he had to ingratiate himself to that power. At Hogwarts he had avoided Draco despite his father’s influence and then insulted Blaise who had hoarded enough information to make his own power base outside his mother’s authority. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

For a moment, they stood there, and Theo soaked up the tacit offer of protection Master Snape’s hand promised. He hadn’t felt safe since his mother died, and how he felt a whisper of that foreign emotion. Then Snape opened the door to a library and stepped inside, his body language shifting into something professorial, even if he claimed he was no longer a professor.

“Homework,” he demanded. The three others placed scrolls at the head of the table while Snape retrieved papers from the shelf behind.

“Neville, you are closest in education to Theo when it comes to maths. Show him your work in algebra and then work with him on these problems.” Snape placed two papers in front of Neville and gestured for Theo to sit next to him. Harry moved to the other side of the table next to Dinae, and Theo slipped into place.

Snape looked down his nose at the only female at the table. “Dinea Medusa Carrow, if you do not start asking questions rather than making broad assumptions when completing your arithmancy charts, I will ban you from visiting Norbert for a month. Redo this chart, obstreperous little whelp, and if you do not ask me the relevant questions to obtain the information you actually require, you will regret it.”

Dinea winced. “Yes, Severus.”

Severus put an arithmancy chart in front of Harry. “Adequate,” he said. Harry beamed. Then Severus put a second chart in front of him. “Again, this time without referencing Lilbucket’s Compendium.” That made Harry’s joy vanish. With a sigh, he pulled the paper closer.

Arithmancy, and without a reference. Theo was shocked. Harry looked roughly the same age, but that was the work of a fourth or fifth year student. Maybe even sixth. No one did arithmancy without looking at the references until they were preparing for their NEWTS. Theo had to set that mystery aside to focus on the work he shared with Neville. Theo remembered Neville as embarrassingly bad. He had melted cauldrons and his transfigurations were never more than partial. But in the previous year and a half, something had changed. Where Theo had hoped to prove that he was superior, he struggled to grasp concepts that Neville appeared to master with ease.

“I was pants at this for a long time,” Neville whispered. His reassurance drove Theo’s resentment until he had to clench his teeth to avoid damaging alliances that might prove useful. Snape looked up from where he was correcting papers.

“The magic of the keep changes us,” Snape said, although Theo didn’t understand how that related to his inability to understand how to find a missing number where only a letter existed. This closely related to arithmancy, and it was important for him to master, but his brain could not grasp the concept.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Snape turned to Theo instead. “If I told you that Harry had mastered basic arithmancy and now hoped to master the ability to do charts without references and that he was starting to apply the theories in arithmancy to charms, what year would you assume he was in?”

Theo glanced over at Harry. He was applied arithmancy to charms? Theo was impressed despite himself. “I would assume he was studying for his NEWTS.”

Snape nodded. “So, six or seventh year?”

“Yes.”

“And what if I told you that Dinae had mastered both wordless and wandless levitation charms, had mastered basic warding and understood arithmancy, even if her lack of good sense often interfered with her ability to produce an accurate chart?

“Maybe fourth or fifth year.”

“Had they gone to Hogwarts, Harry would be in his second year and Dinae her first. What if I told you that all the children could produce a patronus at will?”

Theo’s eyes grew wide. He looked around the table, but all the others looked back, seemingly unaware of how amazing that was. “That’s upper level magic. Most adults can’t reliably perform that spell, or even unreliably perform it.”

Snape nodded. “We are standing on Fae magic. Each of us has been changed and continues to change due to its influence.”

Harry pushed his chart to one side. “Are you saying we wouldn’t be like this if we were studying anywhere else?”

Snape ran his long fingers along the grain of the table. “You inherited parselmouth.” Again, Theo stared. Could the boy be a nephew or child of the Dark Lord? Is that why Snape had told him to watch carefully? “However, no wizard for at least two hundred years has mastered draconish.” Theo was too shocked to even react. Harry could speak to dragons? When would someone even have the opportunity to do so?

Harry blinked. “Merlin. Really? Two hundred years?”

“I suspect the reality is much longer and the most recent wizards to claim the skill had talents that lay in lying rather than speaking draconish. And Neville’s family has never had a parselmouth in it, and yet he has spontaneously become a parselmouth and developed a passing knowledge of draconish. Your family magic is changing, expanding due to your exposure to Fae magic.”

Looking around at the table, Theo wondered what that meant for him. These people didn’t need him, not if they had that sort of magical power.

“Is that why Norbert can understand English now?” Dinae asked. “I should go and explain it to her.”

“You should complete your work, manipulative imp.” Snape turned to Theo. “When you have been here long enough for the Fae magic to soak into your bones, you will be equally powerful. The Fae clearly disapprove of how the False Lord leads the Dark and that old fool Dumbledore leads the Light.”

Harry cleared his throat. “I think they’re pretty pissed about dividing magic into Light and Dark in the first place,” he said.

“I’m not surprised,” Neville added. “It’s dumb. Either the magic is driven by emotion or logic, but if the terms Light and Dark made any sense, none of the Death Eaters would be able to cast a patronus.”

“And the Light wouldn’t use dementors.” Harry shivered. “I still think those things are unnatural.”

“The Ministry might qualify as evil, even if they are not Dark,” Snape said. “Now, back to work, all of you. If I am to be tortured by having to grade your inadequate efforts, I require quiet.” Severus returned to marking the papers, and Theo leaned closer to Neville. “Who’s Norbert?”

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Arithmancy and math gave way to defense, and they moved into a well appointed dueling room, far larger than the one at the Nott Estate. Obstacles lined the edges of the room, no doubt to allow for a more realistic battle experience, but the center was open as if for formal duels. Rather than using cushioning charms to prevent injury, the entire floor was thick with moss. On the far end, dueling dummies had been set up, each with a different weapon.

“Harry, you’re first,” Snape said. Harry pulled an ornamental wand and moved to the center of the room as one of the dummies lifted his weapon and a second pointed a finger as though it were a wand. Snape moved to the side of the room closest to the second dummy, and Dinea took the side nearest the first. She lifted an ax that matched the dummy’s, and Theo realized these were golems rather than static targets.

“We should get out of the way,” Neville said before he dragged Theo up some stairs and cast a shield spell stronger than anything Theo knew.

“Begin,” Snape said, and immediately, wordless spells few at Harry. He blocked several while dancing back away from Dinae’s ax-wielding golem. Harry didn’t move like a child. He moved like a warrior—with all the deadly grace Theo’s father demanded of Theo, not that Theo had ever managed to live up to his father’s expectations. For long minutes, Harry cast spells that crashed into the golems’ shields while ducking around platforms and sending crates crashing toward the dummies. Snape and Dinae advanced on him, relentless in their attack.

Harry cast a “crucio” on Dinae’s dummy, and Theo sucked in a shocked breath. The curse didn’t touch Dinea, but the golem fell to it’s knees and twitched like a real victim. Snape redoubled his efforts, using his own golem to send vividly colored curses to crash against Harry’s shield.

“Avada Kedavra!” Harry yelled. That was the first curse that either he or Snape had said aloud, and Harry’s wand flashed with the emerald green of the most forbidden of all the curses. The light slammed into Dinae’s golem, and after a second, it exploded apart, raining straw down on the dueling room. Harry turned his attention to Snape’s avatar. Theo was terrified of this boy who could throw a killing curse as easily as an levitation charm, but Snape had more skill than Dinea. His golem danced about the dueling chamber, trading spells. However, the golem lost ground with each passing minute. It reacted a half second too slow because the spells that transferred the magic from Snape to his golem had a slight delay.

Harry pressed his advantage.

Dinea climbed the stairs and sat next to them. “We’re bored. Someone kill someone,” she yelled. It distracted Harry, and Snape jumped on that moment of hesitation to throw a stunning curse so strong that he lifted Harry off his feet and dumped him to the ground several feet behind where he started.

“I did not need your help, brat,” Snape said as he repaired the two dummies and sent them back to their starting positions.

“If he’s fighting the Dark Lord, he’d better be able to focus,” Dinae said without a hint of apology in her voice.

Theo stared at her in shock. Fighting the Dark Lord? No one fought him.

“I have asked you not to use that name,” Snape said wearily.

“Fine. False Lord.” Dinae rolled her eyes.

Theo blinked, wondering if they had all been infected with some great madness. Snape walked over and woke Harry. “Be glad I did not allow your sister to hex your skin green again.”

“He looks better green,” Dinea said.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. “If you are so interested in being in this fight, come down and take your position at center, brat. Neville, you have the second golem, and I expect you to show more initiative than last time. Rushing an opponent blindly shows an utter inability to understand even the most basic tenets of battle. While I expect inadequacy from you, I will not have you blunder from one point to another on the battlefield endangering not only yourself but everyone else on your side. And let me assure you, right now you are more of an asset for Dumbledore or the False Lord than you are for us. Your incompetence is going to get one of us killed.”

Neville winced. “I’m trying to get better.”

“Try harder. Your current level of effort is pathetic.” Snape turned his back and returned to his spot on the wall while Neville moved to a green circle opposite him. Neville chose the sword, and the golem with the ax stepped back and the one with the sword took his place.

Harry was breathing hard when he came up the stairs to sit next to Theo. “That hurt.” He rubbed his chest.

Theo should keep his mouth closed. He didn’t understand the politics of this place, and in such a situation, silence was the only protection. A new fight began, and Theo could see that Dinea didn’t have the power behind her spells that Harry did. However, she was quick to take advantage of the terrain, and within a few minutes, she took out Neville’s dummy with a cutting curse that took off his lower legs.

However, before she could turn her attention to Snape, he had cracked her shield and leveled her with a stunning curse. Theo had never seen a woman duel. He knew many Light witches fought, but Theo’s father said that a witch’s true obligation was to the defense and protection of her Lord, children, and manor—in that order. He didn’t believe they should step onto the dueling field at all.

But Snape was equally brutal with Dinae and Harry. He clearly expected both to fight. Nothing made sense.

“Whose side are you on?” Theo asked Harry. He knew he shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t as if Harry was obligated to tell him the truth, and Theo was making himself vulnerable to a lie by asking.

Harry smiled. “Magic’s side. I think this whole war is crap, and I hope the Fae will give me a chance to call all of them out on their stupidity. I plan to channel Severus and call them all inadequate bumblers who would forget to put their heads on their shoulders in the morning if they were not already attached.”

Theo blinked. Harry sounded so damn pleased at the thought of insulting the Dark Lord to his face. “Who are you?” Theo asked, afraid of the answer.

Harry’s smile grew wider. “Harry Potter. Voldemort killed my parents and Dumbledore abandoned me to an abusive home. I plan to have a lot of things to say to both of them. He hopped up to his feet. “I’ll take on Neville, Severus. I want to throw a few offensive spells.”

“Keep in mind you are casting against a person and not a golem. I do not have the equipment to heal him if you get overly enthusiastic in your casting,” Severus warned.

“Yeah,” Neville said, “no killing me.”

“Wuss,” Dinae threw over her shoulder before she climbed up the stairs to join Theo at his perch as the others took their spots for the new round.

When she sat down, Theo asked, “Is that really Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? The boy who once survived a killing curse?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Why?” She looked over at him. “Did you know him before?”

Theo was fairly sure his brain had stalled somewhere during this conversation. Harry Potter. Potter was supposed to be dead—murdered to clear the way for the Dark Lord. Murdered by Severus Snape. Theo watched the former hero of the Light throw curses at Longbottom until Longbottom’s shield failed and he went flying. Then Harry helped him up off the ground. Both of them were stained with moss and dirt and sweat and smiling like loons.

“Come on. Let’s see if Severus will let me introduce you to Norbert,” Dinae said as she caught Theo by the hand and dragged him to his feet. “There is nothing as awesome as a dragon.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Severus was reading in the great hall when Theo eased into the room. He was starting to spend more time out of his room, but he clearly feared being around the others. Sephne would weep to look at her beloved Theo, haunting spaces rather than filling them. Severus imagined the Nott home had not been kind to the child after her passing.

While he rarely mourned the life he had left behind, Severus did miss some people. He missed Minerva’s blunt and scathing assessments of the various defense teachers Dumbledore brought in each year. He missed Narcissa’s sly humor and Draco’s childish enthusiasm. And he missed Sephne Nott’s pure heart. She had been fooled into following the Dark because the Dark Lord and Lord Nott made promises that they did not fulfill. However, despite her poor choice of alliances, her loyalty and devotion were unassailable. She had loved nothing in the world as much as Theo and to see the boy now made Severus wish he could go back in time and steal Theo away the moment Sephne had died.

But none of them could change the past. Perhaps the Fae could, but that was a boon Severus didn’t dare ask for.

“Where are the others?” Theo asked.

Severus sighed. “Since brooms appeared and the play room shifted, they have spent every free moment flying.” Severus did not approve, but he was the tutor, not the parent. The Fae had made that clear. “There is a broom there for you.”

Theo shook his head.

Severus set his book aside. Perhaps he wanted private tutoring to improve his defense skills. Severus had never thought he would see a student less competent on the dueling field than Neville, but Theo had proved him wrong. The boy never seemed to know where his own limbs were and when paired with a partner, he inevitably tripped his own ally. However, admitting an incompetence was difficult, so Severus prepared himself for a long wait as Theo tried to find the right words.

Instead, Theo brought out a book of his own and settled on a couch near Severus. After a few moments, Severus returned to reading. The boy might be trying to make an alliance, but that did not feel right. The other children were far closer to Severus than Theo, and he knew that. It was far more likely that he wanted something and had not found the words to broach the subject. Severus had finished a chapter on the potioner’s experiments with basilisk poison before he brought up the one topic that might cause a young man to lose all ability to communicate.

“I have seen you watch Dinae,” Severus said, his word carefully devoid of any condemnation.

Theo’s head snapped up and he lost much of the color from his face. Severus remembered the days when the mention of a pretty girl’s name could turn him in circles. Even now, he shied from those memories because the girl he had loved had never been his to love and his own foolishness had destroyed any chance he could have kept her as a friend.

“There is nothing inappropriate in noticing Dinae. However, she has been hurt, so if you are interested in her, you must be careful, both to avoid damaging her further and to avoid her striking out at you. When one has been denied power, sometimes one becomes rather… prickly.” Severus frowned, not sure how else to explain the possibility that Dinae would abuse a lover to avoid being abused first.

“I… but… Merlin. No! I have no interest in Dinae like that.” Theo was now brilliant red, so perhaps Severus had misjudged the situation. However, the reaction was far too strong to be anything other than the first stirrings of attraction. Perhaps the boy watched Dinae out of jealousy.

“Neither of the boys are interested in her. She is a sister to them,” Severus noted.

Theo frowned. No other reaction. Sometimes children were such a puzzle. And while Severus enjoyed mysteries in the potions lab, in small humans, they were rather more frustrating.

“What do you mean? Why would I care if the boys like her?” Theo spoke too quickly, so Severus had the tail of the problem.

He shifted in his seat. “I thought perhaps you were attracted to Harry and you watched Dinae out of jealousy, but Harry calls her his sister. She is not an obstacle if you want to seek a relationship with Harry.” Severus did not want a jealous Slytherin trying to damage the children’s current relationships to make a place for himself, especially when they might have to live together for a very long time. At the very least, the children would be together for all of adolescence.

“But… No. I’m not gay!” He said the last word with all the condemnation another Slytherin might use to say ‘mudblood.’

Severus kept his voice firm, but he tried to avoid any tone of condemnation. “We have spoken of the perversion of wild magics and the ways that a wild-core wizard must respect the power and the freedom of magic.”

Theo nodded. “Yes, of course, Master Snape. The magic is wild, and we ride it. But we have to control ourselves to avoid falling into the same sort of madness that plagues the Black family. Trying to control magic or others is a trap as much as sinking into the addictive nature of wild magic. I have taken your lessons to heart, Master Snape.”

Severus had assumed he had. When Severus had declared that Theo could not cast the most powerful wild magics—from patronus to crucio until he had mastered occlumency to a degree that Severus found adequate, he had not argued. He had thrown himself into learning. But this prejudice toward two wizards finding love suggested Severus had failed to explain the underlying truths of that rule. One controlled oneself and nothing else. Certainly one did not control where another found affection. “Your tone suggests that you find something objectionable about two wizards finding love.” Severus raised an eyebrow, silently challenging Theo to explain himself.

Theo stammered a half-answer that was so garbled that Severus could not understand more than three words.

“Child,” Severus said, “people who are not in Slytherin mistake the nature of power and ambition. Not all of us have the raw talent to command power. To continue seeking that which we have no talent to touch is not ambition—it is idiocy. Instead, most of us seek power another way. We find someone who is powerful, who offers to make us a part of his or her success. In elevating this person, we elevate ourselves. Not every Slytherin leads. Even the great Merlin knew this fundamental truth of power and he attached himself to King Arthur, creating an alliance to achieve success where he could not on his own.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Theo asked in a whisper.

“Because Harry is powerful,” Severus said. He had known that already, but seeing Theo’s reaction reminded him that not everyone would see Harry as a child to support from behind. Some witches and wizards would want to stand at his side. “Power is seductive, and if you are attracted to Harry, that is very normal. That is arguably the most Slytherin reaction.” And one Severus should have seen coming. Harry had just turned thirteen, as had Neville and Theo. They were coming to an age where marriage alliances would come into play, and while Dark families vehemently disapproved of same-sex marriages, they were legally and magically binding.

“I’m not interested in Harry.” Theo insisted.

“Neville then?” Severus asked. That was more surprising. In his years at the keep, Severus had developed mage sight, so he knew how powerful Neville’s core was, but he still struggled to control it. From the outside would be a less commanding figure.

“What? No!” Theo’s voice broke.

“Then what ails you, child. I cannot help if I cannot understand,” Severus finally snapped.

“I want to be Dinae!” Theo shouted back. Anger had clearly loosed his tongue more than he had intended because he slapped a hand over his mouth as his emotional control suffered a catastrophic failure.

“Explain, Mr. Nott,” Severus said. Nott was as respected a Dark name as Carrow, so he did not understand the deep well of envy that clearly drove Theo.

Theo shrank into the corner of the couch as if he could vanish.

Severus sighed and moved to Theo’s couch, sitting near the boy. He forced himself to project calm before he asked, “What part of Dinae’s life would you have?”

Theo was curled tightly.

“We are Slytherins. We do not hide from our desires, and I know you are strong enough to be honest with me and yourself. When you learned the cost of a Fae wand, did you not snap your own wand?”

“You’ll hate me,” Theo confessed in a small voice. Severus cursed the boy’s father for opening a child to such a fear. When Sephne had been in charge of raising the boy, Theo had enjoyed Draco’s unshakeable belief that he would always be loved.

“I once believed the False Lord had a beautiful view of the world. He promised that wild magic would be free and I would be elevated above all other potion masters because I was wise enough to follow him. He vowed to change the unjust laws passed by the Wizengot and usher in a new age of magic. That lie convinced me to do terrible things, to participate in atrocities that make me wonder if I deserve to be forgiven. Despite that, Harry and Dinae love me. So I know beyond a doubt that they will never hate you. Given Harry’s Hufflepuff tendencies, he would be more likely to love you if he knew you suffered such self-doubt.”

Theo gave him an incredulous look, and Severus shrugged. “Harry vacillates between Gryffindor impulsiveness and a Hufflepuff desire to protect others, and Neville is the same. Those of us with more realistic views of the world must simply accept their eccentricities. Now, what about Dinae’s life do you envy?”

“I want…” Theo swallowed, and Severus waited. The boy must decide for himself whether he trusted Severus enough to share his secret. Theo kept his gaze on the floor as he said, “I want to be a girl.”

“Why?” Severus asked. If Theo believed being a girl would save him from being Nott’s heir, he would be disappointed to learn that Nott’s need for a blood heir would trump his sexism.

Theo looked up at him. “I am a girl. I mean, I feel like a girl. I feel like my body is…” He bit his lip.

This was an issue Severus had not expected to encounter. “Would you prefer me to call you Ms. Nott?”

Theo’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“Of course,” Severus said. He paused. “But I am also well-known for losing track of details that do not include potion ingredients. If I make a mistake, you must correct me every time. I will be cross if you allow me to persist in an error such was referring to you as male.”

“Okay,” Theo said slowly. Severus would have to police his own language because he clearly was not emotionally prepared to defend himself.

“What else would you like to change?”

“Everything,” Theo said darkly.

Severus considered that. “Do I assume you mean that you wish your body were different?”

Theo gave a rough laugh. “Wishes are not magic.” She said the words in such a hateful tone that Severus suspected she was echoing her father.

“No, but we have magic. Polyjuice can change a person’s gender and blood magic—specifically blood adoptions—are known to create genetic changes. Using those two as a starting point, I should be able to find some magical solution to your problem.”

“Really?” For the first time, the despair that seemed to haunt Theo cleared.

“Of course. And if you would like to explore having a female body temporarily, I have hairs from several dozen women and I can begin a polyjuice potion. It will take some time to complete it, but I can brew enough for you to reapply the potion and allow you to remain in female form for several weeks.”

“Really?”

“You appear to be relying far too heavily on that word, Ms. Nott. Conversations usually require the use of multiple words.”

Theo cleared her throat. “Master Snape, would you please brew the polyjuice potion?”

“Of course I will, Ms. Nott. Let us go to the lab and decide which hair to use. After all, this will be your new body for a time, and I do not want to choose a donor you find disagreeable.” Severus stood and waited for Theo before moving toward the lab. “Do you plan to keep the name Theo or change to another name?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Norbert is female and prefers a male name, so do not assume you must change it. The choice is yours, Ms. Nott.”

Severus wished all the children’s problems could be solved so easily, not that finding a permanent ritual or potion would be easy. This was a challenge that would demand all Severus’s skill as a potion master, but those were the sorts of puzzles he enjoyed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Theodorusia,” Dinae suggested.

“Too old fashioned.” Theo didn’t want to sound like someone’s grandmother. Without comment, Dinae kept flipping through her book of famous warriors.

“Theodosia,” Harry said, but then he added, “although she was sorta well known in Muggle history, so some people might assume you’re making a political statement.”

Theo put her feet up on the table. “I don’t mind making a political statement, but I don’t want to spent my whole life being one. I would prefer a name that wasn’t too Muggle.”

“I understand.” Harry leaned back and pulled one leg under him. People should be allowed to be people—not get turned into political statements. “Can you imagine if I had grown up in the wizarding world with everyone staring at me? I’m so glad they think I’m dead and that they’ve moved on. I can just be Harry.”

Theo nodded. “Exactly. That’s exactly what I want. I want a name that let’s me be myself,” she said. She wore a male body right now to let the residue of polyjuice potion clear her system, but before she took the permanent cure, she wanted a name that could be hers. All hers. And she didn’t want her name or her sex to be the center of attention. She wanted to just be a woman. Merlin. She was going to be fourteen soon. That meant that her father would be able to start making tentative courtship agreements if she were home. Weird.

“Howenthea, like the herbologist who studied mountain plants,” Neville said. Of course he had chosen a book of herbologists. He was such a sweet swot when it came to his plants.

Theo sounded the name out. “Howenthea. I feel like I’m saying ‘how in the hell.’”

“That’s a no-go,” Harry said. “What about Nethea? Short. To the point. She was a map maker who charted the Ice Giant territory north of Norway. That seems appropriate.”

Theo considered it. “It has possibilities.”

“Lorntheaba,” Dinae said as she flipped another page in her book.

“Another good one,” Theo admitted. He didn’t ask her who Lorntheaba had fought because the last time, Dinae had given them a blow-by-blow description of one of the goblin rebellions. Theo had felt like he’d been back in Binn’s history class. Those were not good memories.

“Are you going to go by Theo or Thea?” Neville asked.

Theo considered her options. As much as her male body didn’t feel like hers, her name did. She had always been Theo. But Thea did sound more feminine. Sure, girls could go by Theo and have short hair and wear pants, but after forcing herself to live as a male for so long, Theo enjoyed indulging her feminine side. She liked her long, wavy hair and her skirts and and her make up. She and Dinae had both developed a deft hand with colors, and Severus was surprisingly patient with creating new cosmetics for them.

“Thea,” she declared. That felt right. The others just nodded. Not even Dinae seemed to think that Thea’s sex was shameful or a reason to manipulate Thea, and Dinae was the most Slytherin of them all. Severus liked to claim to be Slytherin to the core, but Thea had doubts about that.

“L’theamay, the alchemist from the 9th century,” Harry offered.

“Oh… that is good.” So many options. Thea had so very many options now.

- - - - - - - - - -

Severus stood above the dueling field and watched as Neville and Thea attacked the dueling dummies. Neville had become passable. At least he wasn’t tripping Thea, but he was not one that Severus would put on the battlefield. Of course, the children were still fourteen, so they had time to grow into their talents. Still, Neville had a gentleness that didn’t match well with the idea of battle. Of course, Severus knew full well that those who love as deeply as Neville could prove dangerous when cornered.

The Dark Lord’s forces had targeted the Burrow once. Arthur Weasley had fought well, as had Gideon and Fabian Prewett, his brothers-in-law. Dolohov had shared the memory with the other Death Eaters, but the reason he had shared it was not because of anything the men had done. When the Prewett brothers had fallen, Molly Weasley had come out of the house throwing such dark curses, wielding such powerful and wild magics, that Dolohov wanted the rest of them to beware of the woman.

Severus suspected Neville might share Molly’s temperament. If his family were in danger, Neville might turn that powerful core of his into a weapon to level his enemies. Unfortunately, that did not help him in training.

The real surprise was how much Thea had improved now that she was in a body that matched her spirit. She whirled around, throwing curses and dodging attacks at such a speed that Severus would no longer allow her to fight actual opponents. Other than Neville, the others were too advanced to risk having them throw magic against each other. In fact, the day would soon come that Harry, Dinae and Thea would be too strong for the training dummies to provide any challenge.

Severus had no more than had that thought when Thea exploded Harry’s dummy and Dinae’s with one well timed curse.

“Merlin,” Neville said, “that was awesome.”

Thea offered a perfectly executed curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“It was amazing,” Harry said. “Do you want to go a round with me?”

At one point, Severus had suspected Theo Nott of having a crush on Harry. Now he suspected the tables had turned. Severus wondered if Thea liked boys. If she did, she had a pathway to a rather profitable marriage there.

“Sure,” Thea said brightly. The air shimmered, and a half second later, a Fae stood in the middle of the dueling grounds. Severus shot to his feet, certain that he was about to inherit another child. However, the Fae was alone. It slowly looked around, studying each of the four children before it turned it’s gaze on Harry. Then the creature moved with exaggerated slowly, offering a formal bow.

Harry looked up at Severus.

“They are offering to duel with you,” Severus explained.

“With me?” Harry asked. “Merlin. I can’t fight a Fae.”

“You can’t win against the Fae,” Severus corrected him. “However, you most certainly can fight one. And given that you must eventually fight either the False Lord or Dumbledore, I would suggest you take advantage of learning to engage a more powerful foe.”

Harry swallowed heavily. “Can I have backup?”

The Fae turned slightly toward Thea and offered her a second bow. “Oh, yeah,” Thea said happily. She brought her wand up. “Dinae, Neville, get behind Severus’s shields because I plan to throw everything into this fight.” She gave Harry a dangerous grin, and he answered with one of his own.

Up until now, Severus worried about how the world would treat his children, but if the Fae themselves were going to train these four, Severus suspected the world might be in more danger than his children. Severus smiled. For the first time in his life, he had chosen to attach his ambition to the right power.