𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐔
𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐔
𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐔
*Narcissa and Bellatrix and Andormeda are not related to the Black family*
𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐂 𝐱 𝐃.𝐌 𝐱 𝐓.𝐍
𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐯...
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The Nott home was nothing glorious but it surely wasn't anything to be ashamed of either. Luckily for Theo his father was one of the Aurors, a job made for villainous men. Aurors worked as the Capitol's military and law enforcement. Their stations ranged from foot-soliders to hovercraft pilots to even guarding Azkaban alongside the Dementors. Essentially, they kept peace and shut down rebellion to ensure Panem could thrive, keeping the oppression alive and the Ministry protected. The punishments Aurors unleashed were cruel and violent, nothing short of pure horror.
But it provided a living space others didn't have.
It didn't provide heat though.
Theo sat on the chilly wooden floors as he stared into the burning embers of the fireplace. His hands shook from the cold and he could only pull up the hood of his black sweatshirt, heavy blue eyes rolling when a handsome brunette owl perched on the mantle and dropped a letter down.
"Already, Merlin?" He asks the owl and picks up the parchment. The cursive inside is short, words sounding as if they came from a Capitol official. Which they did, in a way.
Theodore,
Running late. Make dinner.
Signed, Your Father.
Theo scoffs as he tosses the letter into the fireplace. He wouldn't do anything his father said. In fact, he would always do the complete opposite. Merlin, the owl, hoots in protest.
"I'm not cooking him dinner." Theo shouts and Merlin fly's to the other side of the room, nestling onto the edge of the worn out couch. His head shakes remorsefully. Usually he would never be so cold and crude but the Reaping tomorrow brought on an awful sense of dread-horrible memories too.
The front door opens an hour later. Theodore Nott Sr. waltzes into the home in a spell proof uniform, covered in shiny white pallets. The face shielding helmet is discarded though, resting in his left hand, showing off his thick sandy mustache and beard.
"No dinner?" The father huffs, tossing his helmet onto the kitchen counter and flicking on the ceiling lights that hurt Theo's eyes. "Suspected"
"Got too cold to move" Theo mutters as he drags himself up onto two feet. "Can barely handle the winter chill"
"Just be glad your not in District Twelve, it's burning up there."
There's no response from Theo and it angers his father.
