s i x t e e n

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A complete and utter idiot. That's what he is.



Theo stares with unblinking eyes at the scene unraveling before him, a man at someone else's mercy with his memories laid bare for him to pick apart and tear through. Taking in the sick, manic pleasure of torture being displayed so visibly across the features of the living god he serves.



Living? Now that's a stretch, wouldn't you say?



Blaise's words from one dull patrol night ring in his ears. It was a nonchalant comment, off-handedly thrown in a conversation he doesn't remember, that Theo didn't bother to pry for him to expound further. He was used to him constantly doing that, anyway, ever since they were little. Speaking in riddles. Delighted in how they would keep you up at night deciphering his turns of phrases before caving in. Theo found that a punch to the side usually worked better instead of simple incessant badgering.



But in that moment, two weeks after their arms were carved into with a snake that had eyes the colour of death, he knew exactly what he meant.



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A/N:


Nope, still here. And by gosh, how I missed writing Theo.


Hello again! This two-part update is actually dedicated to the lovely @LisbethLoja3 whose comment on the previous chapters inspired me to continue with picking up where I left off.


Just realised that it coincides perfectly with the Battle of Hogwarts anniversary (it is the 2nd of May here in good ol 'Straya as I post these) 22 years, my dudes! That's crazy. Wonder what canon-Harry Potter and the rest of the bunch are doing at this very moment? Do you think quarantine extends to the Wizarding World? Hmm, much to think about...


Anyway, until next time! xx

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