It was to the Hayes household that Theodore Rookwood had to pack off his friends. The morning had started off as brightly as it could have given the circumstances that the unemployed wizard had found himself in. He had not expected himself to turn up so pitifully on the doorstep of his friend’s house, bitter after one argument too many. Athena had taken him in but for no longer than a night: four Rookwoods and one former one in the house of a Potter was bad enough without another full-blooded Rookwood joining the fray. Resultantly, Theodore found himself on the couch of Cael Ivanov. The Healer kept him warm, well-fed and content enough but the shame was finally beginning to be set in and while he was tranquil amongst his friends, Theodore knew he had to find some activity lest he make his own.
When the letter came, it was a God send. At once, they all gathered and set off for the Hay Bale location that had been given in writing, the dying embers of their letters crinkled and blackened in the hearth, left behind in the green fire of their wake. The friends appeared, one Theodore, Cael, Athena and Elijah, in the fireplace of the Hayes household. As they stepped out one by one onto the carpet and brushed the soot from their clothes, they found a warm home that was a world away from the cold manor houses they had all grown up in and, despite the way they had been reared, they all seemed to find the homeliness of the estate more palatable than all of the art and oriental carpets in the world.
“Good morning,”
The blonde woman who Theodore, with a grim, heavy heart, had watched marry the year before rose from one of the arm chairs having sat her book down on the end table. Elijah was the first to greet her, sweeping her up in a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to each cheek as he uttered compliments to her. Theodore couldn’t help but roll his eyes but smiled nonetheless when, after being passed from each set of arms, he finally received the little blonde firecracker that he could well imagine as the driving force behind what was, at best, a terrible idea. An ex-Minister, an ex-Headmaster, a few old inmates of Azkaban and countless others with suspect pasts and you had teachers; people who offered protection to those in need.
The feel of the little woman in Theodore’s arms reminded him absently of his siblings and for a moment he winced but popped a good-humoured kiss upon Melissa’s forehead regardless. Theodore took a moment to smooth back a few tendrils of mousy blonde hair before nodding approvingly at his old charge, finding happiness in her and a suited temper to married life, even if he had been a voice that purported the necessity of saving her from it. That off-kilter behaviour seemed to have settled and she was calm and steady. He saw no more need in her to act rashly out of fear of rejection. There, she seemed to be well loved.
“You look well,” Theodore complimented gently, sliding his hands down Melissa’s arms to take her smaller ones into his palms. “Very well, indeed. Where can we find our leader, then? I trust he is harbouring an unnecessary amount of anxiety about this endeavour?”
Elijah snorted, receiving a smack around the back of the head from both Cael and Athena, the yelp resounding afterwards. Millie laughed brightly and smiled gently at Theodore, squeezing his hands before gesturing for them to follow her. The four did so dutifully and soon enough they joined the small fray that had gathered further into the house. Theodore spotted the man in question who he suspected to be coveting the aforementioned concern and Theodore took solace in the fact that Elijah had already made provisions for putting that at rest, regardless of whether anyone else was aware of that or not.
“Good-”
Millie and Athena looked up immediately as Theodore broke off, having been listening to a little bit of artistic intrigue courtesy of Elijah. Millie paled, biting her tongue, wishing she had chosen to warn Theodore. Cael skipped over, tossing an arm around Millie’s waist, inquiring airily after the painting mounted in the hallway and thus she was swung out of the room, Athena and Elijah hot on their heels as they heard the inevitable blow up behind them: Theodore’s temper.
“HALLIE CAROLINE ROOKWOOD! ARE YOU BEREFT OF SENSE?”
The retreating foursome froze and comically swivelled around on the balls of their feet to see their red-faced friend storm up to his wife. A smirk broke out on Athena’s façade and Elijah openly laughed, both internally commending the woman for being as hardy and rebellious as she was. One leg down and with a husband like that, none of them would have even considered getting out of bed, let alone actually doing it. Yet, there Hallie Rookwood stood without a scrap of visible concern on her features as though she had been an expert Pureblood socialite all her life, a natural concealer of all open emotions on the face.
Despite themselves, Elijah and Athena were waiting for the thwack of the back of Theodore’s hand against Hallie’s face and when it didn’t come, they opened their eyes to find him stood before Hallie, his chest heaving. For a moment, they both felt a twinge of disappointment in themselves for thinking the worst of their friend but it was to be expected when the wives of Pureblood men disobeyed their husbands. Elijah had watched it happen to his mother. Athena had lived in fear of it. They had both seen it happen, feared it happening again. To assume Theodore was the same was to be treacherous to their friend, yet they were unable to help themselves.
Hit her, Theodore did not but he did seize her immediately in his arms, his mouth covering her own. One arm had hold of Hallie’s waist while the other hand danced up around her jawline, sliding round to the nape of her neck.
Had it been anyone else, there would have been an abject feeling of embarrassment that followed but Theodore Rookwood did not care for such feelings – rather, he revelled in the awkwardness that lit up around the rest of the room. He had gone long enough without his wife. No longer, he would demand of her later. He would have her for his own and never, ever would she do anything without him by her side again – so long as she wanted him.