Two Houses (HarryxDraco)

Chapter 34

"Well...I suppose you better come in, then."

A great tidal wave of relief and gratitude washed over Draco then as he stepped over the threshold into Nott Hall. "Thanks."

Theo grunted in response and walked towards the bifurcated staircase. "You hungry? I was just about to have some dinner."

"I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," Theo shrugged, climbing the stairs. He came to a stop on the first landing and looked up at the large portrait of a beautiful, dark-haired woman that dominated the entrance hall. She was humming to herself as she arranged a bouquet of dark crimson roses. "Mother, Draco is paying us a visit this evening."

Theo's mother stopped humming and looked up at her son with a serene expression that didn't meet her eyes. "Oh, how lovely! It's been such a long time since we last had guests."

"Good evening, Mrs Nott," said Draco politely.

Mrs Nott's gaze drifted towards Draco. "Oh, we have a guest! How lovely..."

Draco drew Theo an inquisitive look but he just shook his head. "We'll be up in my room. If you need anything, just call on one of the house-elves."

"Alright dear," she replied dreamily, turning her attention back to her bouquet of roses. "Hopefully, your father will be home soon. His supper's getting cold."

"Yes, mother," Theo replied blankly before continuing his ascent. He waited until his mother's portrait was well out of earshot before speaking again. "She's been like that since Father got sent to Azkaban. She was never all there to begin with, but now she can barely hold a conversation."

"Have you considered taking her to an art restorer?" Draco suggested.

"It was the first thing that I did," said Theo tersely. "But he said that there was nothing that he could do. Seems like she'll be stuck like that indefinitely. I've tried explaining to her that Father isn't coming back, but that just distresses her until she forgets again and asks for him. The best that I can do is humour her and say that he'll be home soon."

Draco simply nodded and they continued to walk in silence. Portraits often had their benefits; they acted like interactive diaries for those long-departed. The best portraits were the ones who had spent a great amount of time observing their living counterparts, learning their mannerisms and memories. Some learned so much that they were almost indistinguishable from the person they were based on. This, however, was not always the case. If a portrait's counterpart died soon after the painting had been completed, then the personality and memories could be somewhat...limited. As was the case with the portrait of Desdemona Nott.

Theo's mother had died when he was still very young. He'd confided in Draco long ago that he couldn't recall anything of the woman herself, his only meaningful interactions with her were through the subpar portrait that hung on the stairwell. And now, with his father spending a life sentence in Azkaban, Theo was completely alone in Nott Hall. It crossed Draco's mind then that loneliness might have played a factor in why Theo had permitted him entry to his home, it was an awfully big house to be living in without anyone to talk to. Whatever his reasons, Draco was grateful to have a roof over his head, at least for one evening.

Despite his protestations, when a house-elf arrived with Theo's dinner, she'd brought a second plate of food for Draco. The pair of childhood friends sat cross-legged on Theo's bed as they picked away at their meals.

"Love the hair, by the way," Theo joked before popping a forkful of spaghetti carbonara in his mouth.

Draco tutted and roughly ran his fingers through his hair to muss up the slicked-back style. Theo smirked and turned his attention back to his plate. "I'm assuming things are really bad at home if you came here. Well, worse than usual."