Your move.

At the disappearance of the charmless House Elf who had received them, Theodore heavily swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat. Never before had he stood in the atrium of his home as a stranger, without even so much as the appearance of his mother to greet him. Desdemona had always come to find him, expected him and planned ahead before the House Elves could even so much as register his presence on the grounds. She’d always come to welcome her youngest son home, to embrace him and kiss his face an inordinate amount of times, commenting brusquely on his unkemptness and his skinniness. That was then, though. That was before he’d had the gall to go through with a marriage to a Half-Blood.

Shuddering, a sigh passed his lips and Theodore lifted his arm behind him, curling it around Hallie’s waist in a tasteless show of comfort - a show of rebellion. His fingers drummed idly against her hip as his eyes darted around the expansive atrium which his Apparation had been directed to: the visitor’s centre - hence the House Elf, no doubt. That, of course, meant that his rights on the wards had changed. With the sickness in him he tried to quell the thrumming feelings of rejection which he had never before truly experienced. It was always something he had associated with his Uncle Augustus’ side of the family and their seemingly endless contentious scandals. How the mighty fell.

“Theodore?”

One of the side doors had opened but it was not one of his immediate family members who passed through it. Instead it was his cousin James who, like Lionel, enjoyed a hedonistic lifestyle that was far more damaging to the family’s reputation than anything Theodore had ever done - however, they would never see it quite like that, would they? Theodore accepted he’d been naive to expect a warm welcome - especially from members of the House of Rookwood - but he had not at all expected the open surprise and the undercurrent of disdain from the House Elves or his cousins.

“Where is my mother?” Theodore asked stiffly, his fingers still bumbling patterns against Hallie’s frame.

James smiled predatorily, his lips curling back over his teeth. He slid his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers and adopted a restless pose, leaning against one of the decorative Grecian columns that rose up towards the skylights. From the top, bowls of hanging, creeping plants were stood, the vines from this foliage sliding down, barely missing the top of his dark head of hair. Of course, his was a position of antagonism and unbeknownst to Theodore’s direct consciousness his grip around Hallie changed and tightened, further stress alighting itself into his body.

“You don’t want to introduce me to your ‘mare?” James asked, tipping his head to the side. Theodore’s body stilled at the slander and he released Hallie quickly, unwinding himself from her to approach James. The elder man did not as much as flinch, not even after Theodore’s hands had curled round his lapels and drew him arrestingly close. His face remained decorated with frightful amusement and he opened his mouth, whispering an unforgiving tease that the so-called rumours were true: “you are a lover of dirty blood.”

Theodore released James. Fury did not cease to brim in his veins, however, but the atmosphere of the room had changed and the chill that had slipped into it told Theodore who exactly had entered. He didn’t have to turn but upon setting James back onto his feet, Theodore did steal a glance, finding his grandfather stood, staring maliciously in their direction. Theodore didn’t know what must have annoyed him most - that his grandsons were acting like hooligans or that they were doing so in the presence of a Half-Blood - who they were inherently supposed to be better than.

“Do you forget yourselves?” Raghnall Rookwood inquired calmly. Therefore, it was the latter.

“Never, grandfather,” James assured the man smoothly, brushing the front of his suit with his hands. “Theodore was just defending his wife, you see.”

“An admirable quality, to be sure,” Raghnall cut in sardonically, reminding Theodore not for the first time how much the man hated the lines that he was fed by his sons and his grandsons. Their arrogance was infuriating, their strength of ideals intoxicatingly dizzying at times. He loathed family reunions because of the fact that old rivalries sparked up again and wives were stolen and traded over games of cards and whims. Certainly, Raghnall held no honour in that department himself but his sons saw no guilt or wrongdoing in it and, as such, so too did his grandsons.

James excused himself and hurried away, his tail between his legs - escaping before Raghnall could dress him down as he so deserved. Theodore had braced himself for it but certainly not Hallie and it was to her side which he returned, unable to quite bring himself to touch her having broken his countenance because of his temper. He should not have paid James any mind and this he knew but he was finding that after the fiasco at Hogwarts and, subsequently, St. Mungo’s he was a lot more defensive and concerned about Hallie. So why he adhered to the idea of visiting his family he had no idea. That wasn’t the best example of self-preservation in the world.

“You’re adhering to Article 203, I hear.” Raghnall observed unnecessarily. He knew, of course. He wanted Theodore’s reaction.
“Yes.”

Raghnall nodded thoughtfully but said nothing in response he merely turned and exited the atrium via the door through which he entered and they were obliged to follow. It was through many a tapestry-clad hallway that Raghnall took them, mobile despite his age, before finally they entered the library - their favoured meeting place for family discussions. Theodore could recall many times when he had been summoned to the library, in trouble because of something or another. He had pre-warned them he was coming. It seemed as though they’d taken exception to the idea.

Thaddeus Rookwood had elected to stand, the rat of a son he so treasured, Lionel, lolloping by his side. At the sight of his elder brother, Theodore’s eyes narrowed briefly but he moved them elsewhere not a moment later, seeking out his mother who refused to meet his gaze. His sisters also were stoic and unresponsive. Adriana was the only one who deigned to look at him but she did not give any indication of actually seeing him. The children were absent - the situation hardly calling for their presence - and even the husbands of his sisters had been excluded. It was Rookwood function.

“I am cutting you off,” Thaddeus declared and, like that, a triumphant grin spread across Lionel’s features.

Stunned wasn’t the word for it. He should’ve expected it. Theodore merely stared at his father, unable to form anything sensible worth saying. Instead he chose to make the situation worse by quipping:

“Oh, right? What bit? Do you want my arm?”

Thaddeus narrowed his eyes. “The money,” he ground out, unable to quite believe he needed to clarify. He didn’t.

“Why?” Theodore asked, as if he didn’t already know.

He wasn’t dignified with an answer. Theodore looked around, searching for a sympathetic eye or someone, anyone, to defend him. His case had been thrown out and the sentence passed without trial. He didn’t even get the chance to voice his opinion. He was to be granted nothing. He wasn’t even entirely sure it he could keep his surname - as was often the most preferred method of cutting off unwanted baggage. Take the money, the property and all other assets including the name. He daren’t think about what he’d be reduced to if he lost that. He despaired already about the indignity of taking his wife’s name. Perhaps his father would spare him that ridiculousness - though he doubted it.

“You will not stain my line,” Thaddeus declared solemnly. “You can leave.”

Hallie was originally on the fence about meeting the Rookwood's, of which she was now a part of. There was something inside of her that yearned to see them, maybe find out more about Theodore. Each day that passed when she was with him he became more and more interesting, there was a part of her that was starting to want to delve deeper in his history, see what lies beneath his rigidly handsome physique. On the other hand there were the nerves. Hallie, after talking to Theodore, had picked up on the fact that the Rookwood's were purebloods, pure blood supremacists. Hopefully they wouldn't take offense to her blood line too much, after all she was a proven witch and both her parents were. Her father, an ex auror, had died defending his family, surely that was something to be admired whether he was muggle born or not?

As they walked up the drive she had made good effort to keep a tight clutch to the bag that was held before her, her fingers overlapping. She'd cast an undetectable expansion charm to hold a silver plate with clingfilm sealing over the brownies she'd bought. Originally Hallie had attempted to make them herself. Theodore had such a sweet tooth and loved to bake it only figured he must have acquired it from his family, besides it seemed a nice gesture owing to the fact Hallie hadn't gotten them a Christmas present. Unfortunately her brownies had tasted nothing of the sort Theo had made. The texture wasn't that of a crunchy exterior and an oozing interior, nor were the chocolate chips fully melted. As a result she'd headed to a large muggle chain supermarket and bought a box of brownies then placed them neatly onto the plate.

As Theodore pushed the door open she felt his arm tighten around her. It was comforting, reassuring, perhaps they wouldn't be so hard on her after all - especially after all that she'd gone through. An article had emerged in Witch Weekly about the Headmaster's wedding and an in depth paragraph on Hallie's history rescuing Maura in the shrieking shack had appeared when the journalist had gave a small section about her relationship with each bridesmaid. However that probably didn't count for much as the Rookwood's probably didn't read Witch Weekly.

“You don’t want to introduce me to your ‘mare?” The man said, just as Hallie was about to introduce herself. '-Oh I'm,' although her words of politeness had been interrupted by the motion of Theodore at her side. She'd wanted to stay polite, be the bigger person and ignore the man's rudeness although evidently Theodore had a different view on things.

'Theodore!' Hallie hissed, laced with warning and worry. She'd wanted to respond at 'dirty blood', her blood had boiled at his whisper but, given to Theodore's sudden outbreak, she was too stunned and thankful that Theodore has recomposed himself to respond and intensify an argument.

The trainee auror grasped her husbands arm and held onto it as an elder man entered the hallway: Theodore's Grandfather. Which mean't James must be either his brother or his cousin. Hallie wanted to go with cousin owing to the fact Theodore had asked for 'my mother' as opposed to 'our', then again  being brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth Hallie expected that her husband would have acquired a habit of personalising everything.

It was clear that Grandfather Rookwood wasn't at all pleased at Hallie's presence, he didn't introduce himself nor offer her a friendly hello. How rude. Instead he lead them down a tapestry corridor and into what appeared to be a library. Hallie let out a low, slightly audible laugh as they entered. Her husband really did come from a different world than she.

Hallie had never been poor, her Mother had inherited all her Father had saved as well as what her parents had earned, but she'd never gotten everything she'd wanted. Hallie didn't have a concern for materialised possessions, with the excepting of sleakeazy's hair straightening solution, instead she'd learned to appreciate the good outdoors and the joy adventures could bring. Maybe that's why, despite her intelligence, she was never sorted into Ravenclaw like her Mother. Perhaps if she'd had a library growing up then she'd be more inclined to reading and learning? Although in order to have a library you'd have to be in the affluent class bracket whilst Hallie had grew up middle class.

'Hello.' Hallie said politely as, shockingly, the entire Rookwood household had gathered in one room. Now her heart was racing with nerves as they didn't reply, nor catch her gaze. One girl took a glance at her, perhaps a smile had momentarily began to form, before her eyes darted back to Theodore then out of the window at the early darkened sky. Did her new family hate her? Hate her before they'd even gotten to know her. How could any family not even acknowledge a friendly welcome. Hallie had somehow, in spite of a busy schedule as a trainee auror and recovering from a nasty fall, managed to find the time to buy a new dress, put on some heels (which were killing her ankles) and spent almost an hour on her hair. She'd wanted to shine her best in front of her new family, especially about how judgmental she'd heard they could be. However this? This was not what she'd imagined.

“I am cutting you off," Theodore's father spoke. Well there was a surprise, Theodore was still getting things paid for him through his family. Hallie narrowed her eyes, tilting her head in Theodore's direction. Her lips had come together and her tongue was slowly rubbing her front teeth as they did when she was in deep thought. Surely his Dad only mean't financially, in which case they were fine. Hallie had a stable salary and Theodore was the Headmaster of Hogwarts for crying out loud. They had enough money and their new house was paid for thanks to the ministry. Yet there was something in the way Mr Rookwood had said the words 'I'm cutting you off.'

A blonde eyebrow shot to her forehead. Theodore had a sense of humor and a rebellious one at that. Maybe he was mean't for her after all, just, it was taking him time to tick all of her boxes. A slight grin had formed on her face and it was only when Mr Rookwood had replied with 'the money' it vanished.

Hallie was fully aware that they didn't need the money, nor that it really mattered an extravagant amount what the Rookwood family thought of her, but to vicitimise their own son over something he had no control of?

'Hold on.' Hallie spoke, stepping forward strongly and staring Mr Rookwood directly in the eye.

'I understand why you may have a problem with me, as prejudice and ill-educated as it may be, but you shouldn't be punishing Theo. He didn't choose to marry me, it was the law, and seeing as your son is Headmaster of Hogwarts and a member of the wizengamot it'd do well for him to follow the law?' Hallie paused, she'd noticed that some of the younger Rookwood's had now set their gaze on her.

'I put on a dress. I did my hair. I even-' Hallie unzipped her bag and extracted the plate of brownies, pressing them onto the lap of the nearest Rookwood '-brought you brownies to try and be nice and all you've done is show nothing but utter rudeness.' It appeared Hallie was suddenly finding it difficult to hold back all the gradual rage that had slowly began to simmer inside of her since their arrival and being called a mare with dirty blood.

'I wanted to make a good impression, hope you would at least not cast me away but half of you aren't even looking at me! I took the Rookwood name. I'm your family whether you like it or not and I want to try and work things out with you all, I want to get to know the people who made Theo the person who he is today. Instead? Instead you're treating me like vermin before you even know me, as if you dont have any intentions of getting to know your sons wife and-.'

Hallie paused, her face suddenly glowing a brilliant shade of red. She slowly turned to Theodore, forming an expression that could only be described as an 'oh my God what did I just do' expression. Hallie had mean't every word, spoken passionately and strongly. She'd defended her own and in the process insulted every Rookwood in the room. Oh how she'd give anything to apparate away right now.

No. That wasn't in her nature to run and hide. Hallie Caroline Rookwood Cooper stood up for her opinions. She may have changed her name but she hadn't changed her personality. She wasn't some wife who conformed to the ridiculous rules and regulations of some screwed up pure blood supremacist family, yet, there was some regret. Family meant a hell of a lot to her and probably the same to Theodore and had she... had she just ruined that? Had Hallie,  by speaking out of term, torn away every possibility of Theodore turning his 'cutting off' around?

Two words came to mind: Oh shit.

Admiration for his wife burst in bounds but surly tempers which they both possessed could not see them emerging from the library with success in their pockets.

Thaddeus Rookwood was the favourite son of Raghnall, a by-product of being the firstborn. Eamon had followed some eight years later and while no one took him seriously he was arguably the most creative and successful when it came to producing heirs. Another eight years passed with the introduction of Cedric, the youngest of the legitimate boys. Then, of course, there was the bastard and the best known of them all: Augustus Rookwood. He had been the unluckiest, by far, but he had inherited a daughter-in-law who had shaken some of the gargoyles off of the rooftops with her entrance into their family. It was her who he would have rather fought his corner. Athena was not known for her trepidation under the gaze of Raghnall and she was open about her disdain of Thaddeus for countless reasons. Theodore wished he could have exhibited such bravery. However, Hallie seemed keen to do that for him - regardless of how unwise it was.

Theodore snaked his arm back around his wife and pressed his lips to her hair briefly, taking a moment to think about what he was going to say. He closed his eyes, taking solace in her company for the briefest of seconds before resuming his former posture, glaring straight ahead, attempting to maintain a stoic, brave facade.

“Sons of this family are above the law,” Raghnall addressed Hallie, unfurling his fingers from where they were clasped, resting before him on the table. Theodore’s eyebrows shot dubiously to his hairline.

“He was betrothed anyway,” Lionel interjected snootily, fiddling with the chain attached to his pocket watch that was hanging limply in his trouser pocket, linked up at the other end to his waistcoat.

“That was broken off, Leo!” Adriana hissed. The pair quickly began to bicker but before volume could rise between them, Raghnall slammed his hand down on the table, making everyone, including Theodore, jump.

“Enough,” he murmured, his eyes scanning between the two young people. Adriana lowered herself back down into her chair with a huff and resumed her silence while Lionel merely grinned.

Theodore’s fingers began to drum a tense pattern once more into Hallie’s side and his eyes still sought out a friendly gaze. His brother looked in the midst of mania, caught up by what he was going to gain. He’d called half of his inheritance anyway and frittered it away unbeknownst to their father who believed Lionel had invested it in property - as was the Rookwood way. He had spent what he got from his mother’s dowry, which Theodore had never believed his elder brother had been entitled to anyway, and he was set to take everything - what measly amount Theodore was due - that his younger brother had ever been allotted.

Lionel would be prized with a place on the Wizengamot: Theodore’s rightful place. He’d be given a half-a-dozen properties dotted around Europe. He’d have the deed to an art museum that their mother’s brother had set up and Theodore had gotten as a gift from the man’s will. Emilio, his son, had always been more interested in magical theory and the like rather than art and Theodore had been a natural choice, ever interested in whatever it was that was new and beguiling. Lionel wouldn’t treat it with any particular regard.

What irked Theodore the most was that he’d never be able to prove the fact that he was always the better son. He’d tried everything as a child to be anything his father wanted him to be. He put up with the nonsensical lessons in the library where he was drilled in the darkest of Magical Arts and some rather more whimsical but no less deadly spells. He’d put up with the glaring looks and the physical strain he put on his body trying to out-do a sibling thirteen years his senior. By Merlin he had tried and it had all been for nothing. Part of him was glad that the years prior to Hogwarts had been spent with his mother while his father manipulated and did business. He was grateful for that. At least she had treated him with what love she could manage to show.

It was just a shame she couldn’t show it now.

“Miss Cooper, you are vermin,” Thaddeus intoned, bored with proceedings. “As such Theodore is well within his rights to receive the appropriate punishment because he, too, now is, himself, vermin. You see?”

Theodore’s consciousness was tripped and his sense followed after over the figurative cliff as the red mist descended.  He still remembered. He’d never, ever forget the way that man had treated him. It was their folly and fault. It was Theodore’s curse yet he was blamed. One finger, extra on each hand, and that was all it took to steal away a father’s affection. Dark spells always left their mark and had he deigned to ever lift the glamour spells then they’d all see the way the roping, explosive scars scorched down the side of his hand and up his forearms, abating just before they reached his elbows - blemishes worse than the offending appendages.

After everything Thaddeus had done to him, Theodore for the man who he wanted to trust him... that was what he had to say.

“You bastard,” Theodore spat, drawing his wand and stepping forward. “How dare you?”

Lionel drew his in response, cocking his useless arm behind his back. He aligned himself sideways in relation to Theodore and quirked an eyebrow, as if daring him to try.

“The people who made him who he is today don’t appear to be in the room,” Lionel chuckled. “No Rookwood would turn his wand on his own father.”

Surprise registered on his features, the double-standards barrelling into him. This was no different from Kendall and Athena - only his and Hallie’s marriage was over and done with. What they sought was respect and acknowledgement, not permission. Yet they had hit a brick wall where their contemporaries had bargained. But of course, they’d had Penelope Goyle, a Healer and children to seal their fate. Theodore had no leverage of that kind, just anger. Even his own mother would not defend him.

“Or his brother,” Theodore shot back, gaining his wits somewhat. Lionel’s grip on his wand fastened tighter and Theodore found he was no longer surprised, expecting the betrayal, even.

Another wand was drawn and Lionel visibly flinched, relenting in lowering his own, assessing that he was not faster than the old man whom he called grandfather. Theodore did not lose his stance, not until his brother’s wand had been stowed away and their grandfather turned his to Theodore. The younger man dropped his wand back into his pocket.

“There will be no more bloodshed in this house.” Raghnall insisted. “Crucio.”

Theodore stepped back, returning to Hallie as his brother collapsed under the weight of the curse. Raghnall released it after a moment or two but Lionel did not rise again. Thaddeus’ fault was in moving to defend his son and for his efforts he too was greeted with the spell which crippled him to the floor beside Lionel.

Releasing Thaddeus from the spell, Raghnall put his wand down on the table. Theodore exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and released Hallie who he’d grasped in a moment of utter terror, believing he too would be smacked around by the curse that he had grown up with as punishment. He was used to it, you could say, but it never lost its edge.

“Clear the room.”

Raghnall’s word was law and the women rose calmly, retreating from the room, their wands lifting the prone bodies of Thaddeus and Lionel out after them. Once the room was quiet, Raghnall picked up his wand again and called to the table a bottle of Firewhisky and three glasses. The man observed that perhaps Odysseus Goyle was beginning to have an effect on him but he qualified the need for a drink with the strain the situation brought.

“Sit down by me,” he instructed, adding, “wipe that surly look off of your face, Teddy.”

Theodore blinked - the most surprising thing of all being the use of the nickname. He stepped forward once more and took his seat to the left of his grandfather, Hallie being directed with an old hand to sit to the man’s right.

“I am not going to tell you I am going to repair everything and we will all play happy families,” Raghnall began heavily. “It is Thaddeus’ decision regardless of how asinine this all is. You will be cut off.”

Theodore opened his mouth to protest but Raghnall held up his hand, gesturing with it for the other man to pour the whisky - which Theodore did, a few fingers for all three of them. Raghnall picked up his glass, thanking the boy with a minute glance, and sipped at it while Theodore refrained from swallowing it all - though the temptation was keen.

“Your trust fund is yours,” Raghnall stated calmly. “Your maternal uncle’s gifts to you in his will are and will remain yours. I cannot guarantee you your post on the Wizengamot, however. It is our traditional position as a family. Regrettably, Lionel will take that or, regardless of whether you remain or not, he will have your salary. Thus, it is just better you wipe it away all together, no?”

Theodore nodded.

“However, I will allot to you a sizable sum, call it your inheritance, and I will give you enough to give any and all offspring you have a comfortable trust fund of their own. It will only be available to them, however, if you happen to predecease them - which I doubt, highly.”

Theodore looked up and Raghnall chuckled humourlessly.

“You assume I am as much of a bastard as your father. I am, make no mistake. I am however not going to turn out a grandson of mine without any help just because my son wishes it. Trust that I do not believe in this union. I am not going to advertise that our family suddenly ups and sullies itself with Half-Bloods and Muggle-Borns. I mean no disrespect to you, Hallie,” Raghnall moved his eyes to the woman. “It is merely my creed and to go back on it now would be like trying to get an old dog to do a back-flip, wouldn’t it? I am, however, not set against you or your achievements. Your grandmother reads Witch Weekly, Teddy. It’s infuriating.”

Theodore grinned, trying to imagine Emelia wittering happily to Raghnall. He could see the man’s fury but he could not believe his grandmother actually read such trollop. Still, a witch was a witch, he supposed.

“Now, let’s enjoy this little occasion.” Raghnall suggested before adding, “You can keep your surname, too, you’ll be pleased to find. Desdemona’s horror of a maiden name never would have suited you.”

Theodore laughed despite himself and drained the glass of whisky, feeling a little bit more light hearted.

“Now, tell an old man about the little family you’ve found yourself, Teddy. Then I can go back to being a tyrant and you can worry after your Christmas. I trust you will be cooking?”

“Goose, I think,” Theodore told Raghnall, casting a glance at Hallie. “We’ve not really spoken about it.”

“Or anything, I suppose?” Raghnall arched an eyebrow at his grandson, turning to Hallie. “Tell me about yourself, girl. You never know, I might yet smile.”

The breath of Theodore near her ear was somewhat refreshing. It sent a shiver down her spine, although not an unnerving shiver a shiver that was somewhat refreshing, homely. She'd just spoken out of term, expelled most of her thoughts without thinking. You could have called it bravery but really, it was recklessness that had taken over her emotions but Theodore was still there. He hadn't shouted her down, or even stopped her and for that Hallie was slightly thankful for.

Of course Rookwood's were 'above the law' what had Hallie been thinking? She had resist the urge to roll her eyes at this statement. A family with such high class and value obviously were self-worshiping thinking that they were the gift from heaven. It was rather odd, that Hallie was now a part of that family. Then again, perhaps after today, she wasn't?

Hallie gasped, slightly astonished at the sudden child-like bickering. Then, she smiled. She couldn't deny how immature it was but it simply showed, behind the money, power and traditions they were only human. They were the same as every other family out there. The Rookwood's had their ups and downs and it was what made them the people they are - along with the money, power and traditions of course.

Vermin. How dare he speak to her that way, after all the respect she had shown him in spite of speaking out of term. Hallie had came here hoping to have a nice sit down talk with the family, really get to know them. Of course she hadn't wanted to, Hallie hadn't asked for this anymore than the Rookwood's yet they had been placed together and rather than dealing with it Mr Rookwood was simply erasing it from his life as to not put a tiny dent into their family crest. How pathetic.

Wands were drawn and Hallie pursed her lips, her blood pressure rising. As if it had all boiled down to this: violence. 'Theodore.' She whispered, placing a hand on her raised wand arm. The last thing Hallie wanted was to see him hit with a jinx, or to see him jinx his father for that matter. Family clearly mean't a lot to the Rookwood's, as much as it did to Hallie they simply expressed it in a different way. It was intriguing to say the least but all Hallie wanted right now was for them to laugh it off, shake hands and maybe pat each other on the back... Unlikely.

'No!' Hallie screamed as the cruciatus curse was cast. The auror had gone to step forward, stop the curse but she was held back without even realising. Theodore's grip had tightened on her as she stared wide-eyed at the tortured body.

'AHHHH!' Hallie screeched as the unforgivable curse shot at her, sending her body into a state of withering pain. All her bad memories, being attacked by a werewolf, having her brother become one, her brothers 'funeral', her Father dying, Maura being tortured last time. All of these was nothing to the physical pain she was experiencing, she wanted it to stop. Hallie couldn't take it anymore.

The pain that the curse induced was never forgotten, it would always reemerge like a nasty cough in the winter forever returned. She'd felt the wrath of the unforgivable the night when she'd fought to save Maura and Taranee in the shrieking shack, thankfully it had been love that had helped her fight Alexis' curse, yet it's scars still remained and her memories only vanished when Grandfather Rookwood lifted the curse.

There was so many things Hallie wanted to say to him. What he'd done was illegal, sure he was above the law as the family liked to think, but to perform such a curse on your own son?

The commotion of people leaving the room on the elderly man's command was unnerving, especially seeing as he'd placed his wand down. Then again none of them wouldn't have wanted to be at the receiving end of the curse, the curse by how casual they were about it must be a regular punishment. Hallie tilted her head to Theodore, who didn't leave with the others. How many times had he been given the curse as punishment?

Then, all who remained were Hallie, Theodore and Raghnall.

Still slightly taken aback at having seen the momentary torture Hallie allowed herself to be led to the seat on Grandfather Rookwood's side. She couldn't deny it, she was slightly scared. Hallie could have left with the others, ran when she could but she wasn't like that. Her Father was a part of her and because of that she never shied away from her fears, she plucked up courage and faced them. After all, you couldn't be courageous without fear.

Hallie simply listened, gazing in Theodore's direction whilst her drink sat forgotten in her hands. Her blue eyes didn't meet her husbands brown, but it was comforting for her. He was a known person and, in spite of the fact they'd rarely talked about any in depth discussion, there was a bond between them. Marriage of magic? Hallie didn't know, nor did she care, all she knew was that it was only until know she realised how much Theodore was starting to mean to her.

Then, not realising, a smile formed on her face. Sure her eyes held nervousness but a tinge of happy was visible over the setting sadness. Raghnall was giving her what she came here for: a conversation, a pleasant conversation at there. A conversation where they could share family stories and leave looking forward to make more memories.

'Well, my name's Hallie and I'm nineteen years old. I'm a trainee auror and I'm-' She paused. This wasn't exactly telling Mr Rookwood about herself. It was mere trivial facts, facts he most likely knew (or unlikely knew owing to the fact he'd called her 'girl'). 'Sorry, I... I don't know where to start?' Hallie admitted honestly looking at Raghnall with an eyeful of sincerity.

Steadily, Raghnall Rookwood studied the amber liquid he circled and stained around the bottom of his glass. He frowned a little, a barely noticeable gesture of his features which were constantly furrowed in some form of displeasure or concentration. This time, however, it was not out of either of those reasons that he frowned and for the first time in a long, long time he was concerned for the safety of someone who was not his own kith and kin. Certainly, the blonde before him had forcibly become family but just as quickly as she’d become such, she could be removed and that was what chewed at what Raghnall believed must have been some semblance of his conscience – long-dead though it was.

Turning his head, Raghnall steadied his eyes on his grandson who openly found his gaze. Theodore did not shrink beneath the ire of his grandfather quite the way he did his father. Raghnall had long ago expressed his allegiance to his grandson but it was Thaddeus who continued to be the thorn and the pain that would always creep up on Theodore during the winter months. Raghnall remembered well the wounded pup of a boy who had come home and clambered to his mother, trying his hardest to get as close to her as possible – if he got close enough, maybe he’d just disappear. That had been his little hope. He hadn’t gotten it though.

“Here you sit, my boy,” Raghnall murmured after a moment, a wistful look alighting on his weather-beaten features before he gestured for the scotch once more.

Theodore complied quickly, filling up both glasses before resuming his post. He glanced at Hallie and smiled briefly before returning his eyes to his grandfather who had continued to speak.

“A married man, no less,” Raghnall considered before looking over, himself, at the blonde woman next to him.

“Nineteen is very young,” he said, mostly to himself before looking at Theodore. “You will wait.”

Theodore’s eyebrows rose questioningly but the pointed look he was greeted with informed him that the pair were on the same wavelength.

“There’s no sense in sullying youth just yet with spawn. I’m sure you’d like to stay blonde for a few more decades yet, my dear.” Raghnall took a sip from his scotch and hummed thoughtfully for a moment before pointing towards Theodore. “What are you going to do, then?”

“What?” Theodore asked, reflexively.

“Come along, boy. You’re not irresponsible with money but my galleons won’t last forever. What is your grand plan? Surely you’ve got one beyond the childish plot of poisoning your brother.”

Another pointed look and Theodore felt his ears heat up with embarrassment. Curious, it was, that it was embarrassment he felt – at being caught more than anything – rather than shame at the desire to do away with his brother. It had been one he’d coveted since he was old enough to understand he loathed Lionel. Still, if Raghnall knew then it was pointless, indeed.

“It’s fool-proof, you know,” he quipped with a half-grin.

“So were your other discretions, Teddy, but it wasn’t Thaddeus who got you out of those,” Raghnall looked at Hallie and patted her hand. “Keep this one on a short leash, my dear.  But enough about him. He bores me.”
Theodore made a face and Raghnall chuckled, waving the man away.

“Trainee Auror is a very important position to hold.” Raghnall nodded. “Of course, not a safe one. You run the risk of making pointless enemies. But then, just by living… don’t we all? I trust you stand in the light then? Siding with the Order and whatnot?” Raghnall’s eyes narrowed curiously, assessing the blonde before nodding again. “Yes, I suppose so. Interesting. Interesting. So, your family. Is it a good one? Forgive me, I’m not well-versed in the lineages of Half-Bloods.”

Bizarrely, that was as close as Raghnall Rookwood was ever going to come to being politically correct about blood and species. If anything, Theodore was just glad Hallie wasn’t a werewolf on top of anything else. He doubted he’d ever see his grandfather move so fast. That said though, if she had been, Theodore himself wouldn’t have touched her with a ten ft. barge pole. No way.

Thankfully, Raghnall had diverted his attention back to Theodore. It wasn't that Hallie didn't want to talk but talking alone to Raghnall without the other family members around was unnerving. The way that they had been dismissed as though he was some sort of mighty overlord wasn't the most comforting thought. Who knows how many times the man before her had used the cruciatus curse and on a family member. Hallie was still speechless as to that incident. The cruciatus curse.

Will wait? Hallie was half tempted to ask if he mean't for sex and if so how long was she supposed to wait. The girl had waited long enough as it was, she'd been partnered with Theodore about three months ago and still she was dry. Hallie was half thinking that if she waited any longer then it'd never happen, she'd simply shrivel and remain untouched by Theodore. There had come times when Hallie had wanted to give in, take him by the hand and lead him right into bed. No. She'd resisted the urge but that urge was becoming more and more prominent every day and now Raghnell was saying that they should wait? All Hallie hoped was that Theodore wasn't as obedient to his Grandfather as the other Rookwoods.

'Spawn.' Hallie muttered under her breath. Wait for children. Now that she could wait for, and would wait for. Although when the time came she certainly wouldn't be calling them 'spawn', nor would she be bringing them up in a way that Theodore was clearly brought up.

'I'm sure things will just mull over somehow.' Hallie said with a polite smile. Hallie never was one to plan things out, she liked the element of surprise. What fun was life if everything simply played out how you intended, or what if you made all these plans and life didn't live up to your expectations? Plans were for the conscious, the weary. Hallie was an adrenaline junkie.

The order. Hallie had only joined recently, since after her fall at Gryffindor Tower. How on earth did Raghnell know, even Theodore wasn't aware that she was a member of the Order. She hadn't even been to a proper meeting yet, did he know something that she didn't? Or was it really that obvious, after all she was the ex-gryffindor, trainee auror type who gravitated towards trouble.

'My family?' Hallie began, pausing for a moment. 'Well, my mum is the charms Professor at Hogwarts. She did used to work for the department of magical transportation but recently was given the post. Her parents were potioneers but died in an accident before I was born so I don't really know a lot about them, although her father, my Grandfather even, he invented skel-grow?'

Hallie looked up at the ceiling thinking about what else to tell Theodore's Grandfather. Should she tell everything about her family, after all the chances are that they would never see her again or was it worth skimming over a few bits? For once Hallie was being cautious on what to say, perhaps it was how well Raghnell seemed to be reading her. The order. How on earth did he know?

'My Dad was an auror but died when I was seven, it's kind of the reason behind why I wanted to become an auror myself.' Then, Hallie couldn't stop: 'He was killed by death eaters when defending the village we lived in so it was just Mum, Toby and I. - Toby is my brother. We're so close it's unreal, but he was missing for the past five years because.'

A lump caught in her throat. She was the reason Toby had been missing. She was the one who didn't help her brother when the werewolf was chasing them down. She was the one who told Toby to run away and never return. Why? Because of her guilt? To protect her Mother and herself? Because of her the family had been ruined even more, they had lost five years with Toby. Thankfully he was alive and healthy and had been reunited with them but Hallie would never forgive herself for what she did. Never.

'Sorry. He's, he's fine now.' She added forcing a smile before turning her gaze on Theodore. She wanted to leave or change the conversation at best. Hallie had already missed the part about how she'd heard her father's murder, she didn't want to have to go into why Toby left. Nobody knew. Nobody apart from Toby, Maura and herself.

Raghnall had been around the world enough times to know when he was sitting with a light witch and a dark wizard. There had been no saving Theodore from trouble. He gravitated to it like his uncle had done. The thrills of murder, mischief and mayhem had lighted his blood on fire like it had done for Augustus and not for the first time in his life Raghnall had found himself hurrying after a young man who should have known better, who should have learnt from the experience of others.

Yet, for reasons that had to do with Theodore being the son of his grandfather’s favourite son, Raghnall had always been the one to extricate Theodore from his skirmishes and had plucked him out of the hands of the Ministry more than a few times – in the end he planted the boy in the Ministry in the hope that he’d somehow, someway learn a lesson or two about self-preservation. Of course, Theodore had learnt them – it was just a case of whether or not he’d make use of said ditties or not. Probably not. Let’s face it.

Nevertheless, the derisive mention of Death Eaters was clue enough even if Raghnall had not been sure before. He had been merely testing the waters, trying to ascertain whether or not he was still a good judge of character or not. It turned out that he had maintained potent nerves and had assessed the young Cooper-cum-Rookwood correctly. She had Order sympathies and no doubt was one of those pesky little rats herself. Theodore, it seemed, had remained ignorant.

“Such a shame isn’t it?” Raghnall inquired pleasantly. “Those pesky Death Eaters have a penchant for burning things down and maiming and killing. You would have thought, wouldn’t you, that their mummies and daddies would’ve taught them better than that? I suppose some apples just have to be rotten, don’t they, otherwise the good ones can’t shine?”

Theodore leant his head back against the high-backed chair and eyed his grandfather curiously, listening only idly to the tale that Hallie was gently weaving. He’d heard bits and pieces over the years and hadn’t really paid any of it much mind – considering the blonde about as important as a pair of socks on a hot summer’s day. It was winter, however, and the socks were very much on.

“A somewhat foolhardy but no less noble family, then,” Raghnall summarised, sliding his glass across the table with a directive look at Theodore.

“It’s the world of a Gryffindor, grandfather,” Theodore informed the elderly man, pouring a few more fingers of scotch with wary eyes.

“Quite right,” Raghnall agreed, taking the glass Theodore offered before looking at Hallie once more. “My father would have boxed my ears if I ever would have considered doing something as stupid as join up after he was deceased. Dead or not he would’ve found a way to make his ire known, you mark me.”

Raghnall smirked, his youth appearing for a fleeting second before he brought the glass to his lips.

Silence stretched out again until the glass hit the table and it was slid along towards Theodore once more. Again it was refilled and Raghnall continued to drink, Theodore matching him each time, both men remaining steady, acclimatised to such ridiculousness at an equally asinine time of day.

“We should be going soon,” Theodore confided, setting his glass down.

Raghnall arched an eyebrow at his grandson.

“Should you? I rather think you had better pay a visit to your mother, don’t you? Then your darling cousin-in-law perhaps and then you can be on your way.”

Theodore steadied his gaze on the man before him.

“I doubt she’d want to see us.”

Raghnall scoffed, throwing down the glass once more, pointing to it roughly.

“Your father is a waste of skin and space at times. His brothers aren’t much better. Augustus was the only one, boy, the only one that proved himself. Merlin only knows where he is while Thaddeus sobs upstairs because his father cursed him and his little chit of a son cries too, bawling his eyes out and getting no pity for it. You, boy, will go and see your mother, then pay a visit to darling Athena then sod off and go and make something of your life, are we square?”

Theodore blinked before nodding, dumbly.

“Yes, grandfather.” Theodore nodded.

“Take your little Half-Blood with you, too.” Raghnall gruffed. “Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Rookwood. I’d doff my hat but fashion doesn’t dictate we bother with them now. Press on, Teddy. I’m sick of your face.”

Theodore didn’t need to be told thrice and after setting the scotch bottle by his grandfather’s elbow, Theodore helped up Hallie – rather for speed as opposed to chivalry – and hurried out of the library before Raghnall could take back what he had to say and keep them there for the rest of the day.

“That is the man who took on the world and won. Forgive him for everything. He’s old, weary and he’s not had the best time of it.”

Theodore pressed his lips together in poorly concealed frustration before gesturing up the hallway.

“Upstairs, tenth door on the right. That’s my mother’s rooms. Lead the way, darling Blondie.”

Hallie pressed her lips together whilst her tongue rubbed her front teeth. Was Mr Rookwood mocking her? She wasn't one hundred percent sure he was a death eater but the way he talked about them nonchalantly, almost comically, wasn't at all soothing. 'The death eaters are nothing more than weak people who want to boost their ego.' Hallie retorted before she could hold herself, blushing slightly. 'Sorry.' She added, hoping not to offend although it seemed Raghnell didn't linger on the subject and moved on to state how her family appeared noble. Something they agreed on.

Join up. Yet again Hallie felt lost in their conversation although as though she were on display for all to see. Was he referring to her joining up as an auror and a member of the order of the phoenix. Either way Hallie a feeling Mr Rookwood was aware of her affiliation to the Order and could only hope Theodore didn't find out. Not that she was bothered, but if the Ministry got wind or worse her Mother who knows what could happen.

'It was nice meeting you.' Hallie replied, showing a genuine smile for the first time. Although before she could extend a hand for him to shake Theodore had grasped her by the arm and swiftly led her from the room.

Now. The Mother.

'He's certainly something.' Hallie muttered as the pair of them walked towards the main staircase. 'Oh and please stop calling me Blondie little rich boy.' Hallie added, although for once she a flirtatious smirk had formed on her face even if she really did hate being called 'blondie'.

'Room eight, nine and.' Hallie paused as her blue eyes met the door that she counted 'ten'. Taking a deep breath she turned to Theodore. 'Is she nice?' Hallie was beginning to question whether the whole visit was a bad idea and who knows where the brownies had gone, 'I don't think I can take anymore of the curses and uppity comments.'

“She’s my mother, Hallie.”

Nothing more needed to be said thereafter because the door had been thrown open by a rough gesture of Theodore’s hand, revealing the brightly decorated sitting room that preceded the inner chambers of his mother’s rooms. The holiday season had engulfed the initial entry room but there was certainly no sign of her, the only evidence of her presence being, simply, the hearth crackling, swollen with fire and red light.

Pressing his lips together, Theodore stepped onto the oriental rugs that covered the darkly stained floorboards. He cast his eyes around, taking note of the slight disorder that wouldn’t have worried him had it not been the fact that he was in his mother’s abode rather than anyone else’s. Sheet music covered the piano in a disarray and in one of the windows a bouquet of roses was sat in murky water having lost their liveliness.

“Des?” Theodore called out over the silence that was intermittently broken by the crackle of the flames.

Theodore held up his hand, directing briefly for Hallie to stay put, before veering off to the left, opening up the door into the adjoining sitting room which was where she kept her private company. She wasn’t there either, however, mingling amongst the bookshelves, and Theodore stalked through, throwing open a final door into the bathroom before turning and striding the opposite way, into her bedroom.

It was there that he found Desdemona Rookwood who looked up from the sewing in her lap. She was perched on the edge of a Queen Anne arm chair by another fireplace, a strained expression on her face and her hands too shaky to really focus on what she was doing. A smile quirked at her features when she set her eyes on her son and Theodore paused, his lips quivering as he staved off his reaction to her.

“Hello Teddy.”

Desdemona put down her sewing and brought herself to her feet. She was still a beautiful woman. Tall and curvy, her skin still bore the exotic hue that he’d admired as a child and, no doubt, his father had too. Her hair was long, as ever, dark and curly, falling around her waist, and while her face was tight and weary, she still had a quiet youth about her – and she was still his delicate mother who fell easily into his grasp.

Theodore pressed a kiss to Desdemona’s hair and sighed heavily, bringing his hand up to curl around the back of her neck. Desdemona pulled back after a moment, releasing the hold she’d taken on the lapels of his jacket. She smoothed them out and brought her hands up to, too, press down his hair.

“I should have said something shouldn’t I?” She inquired with a slight smile. “To your father, I mean.”

“It’s done now,” Theodore shook his head. “Grandfather’s fixed it, all the same.”

Desdemona nodded thoughtfully before bringing her dark eyes up to her son’s.

“I’m sorry, Ted.” She patted his cheek, smoothing her thumb absent-mindedly in the space between his nose and the crease of his eye. She then took his hand and squeezed it with a smile before moving past him, out into the sitting room where she found Theodore’s wife.

“Hallie,” Desdemona offered a thin hand to the young woman with a smile. “How are you? I am afraid the Ministry picked a rather interesting family for you to join.”

'Sorry.' Hallie muttered. She hadn't mean't to come across as rude as judging by the way Theodore had quickly pushed the door open suggested he wasn't too pleased with her doubt. Then again would any child? Come to think of it if Theodore had asked 'Is she nice?' about her own Mother Hallie wouldn't be too pleased either.

The room was like the other rooms: luxurious. A crackling log fire burnt giving the room a shimmer of orange. It highlighted a piano, sheet music scattered across. It was odd. Piano's were a muggle instrument, something you'd find in a muggle home, yet all the pure blood families seemed to have them. Hallie never understood if this was to add a certain class value to the room or purely for irony.

She watched as Theodore marched into an adjoining room in search for 'Des.' How odd to not call his Mother by her name as he did moments ago. Mr Rookwood had been right, Hallie really had married into a family that was one of a kind.

Hallie walked over towards the bedside table, noticing a photo frame by a shimmering Christmas candle. There were two children in the photo and Hallie had a feeling she knew exactly which two children they were: Theodore and Lionel. There was happiness in the photo, not a lot but a kind of happiness that is wired into your blood. It wasn't excitement, nor was there even a smile but Hallie could sense that Theodore's childhood hadn't been all bad.

'Oh.' Hallie jumped slightly as the presence of Mrs Rookwood. 'Hi, I'm okay. Slightly nervous about meeting the family but I'm good.' Hallie replied honestly. She took Des' hand and felt much warmer, much more comforted. How stupid she'd been to have even asked Theodore if his Mother was nice. She was his Mother.

'My family has just as much drama so I guess the Ministry made a good match.'