Nott A Secret One Wants Heard

It appeared that the words leaving Isadora were somewhat of a torment to her. They looked as though they tasted of bitter medicine and had the texture of tar. Yet, they didn't have the same effect on Alexander's ears. It wasn't what he was expecting and initially the statement appeared a little shocking but upon second thought it wasn't that shocking after all. His Mother liked to sleep around and his Father had never cared for Anastasia. Now he knew why.

What this would mean to him? That's what had stumped Alexander. Anastasia was his sister, but now she was just a half sister and the only blood they shared was that of a slútbag cougar. At least the blood they shared had some admirable qualities whether it was tainted with adultery. Pansy was cunning, devious, got what she wanted, knew how to charm and gain attention and they were qualities Alexander hoped he'd learnt from her. As for his Father, Theodore may not be much of a man but he was smart and a good Father - at least to the children that were biologically his.

The only sane idea that seemed to resonate with his relationship towards Anastasia was to be her older brother. Although they had different blood, she was more excellent in the sense her blood was part Rookwood, he had been raised as her brother and that's exactly what he'd be. Perhaps he should stand up,acquire the Father role and be the Daddy that Anastasia had never really had but he didn't want that. Parenthood was stressful and he didn't care for his sister enough to assume that role.

The death eaters ears quirked. Isadora was telling him she wasn't to know. Perplexed Alexander stared at her face and then into the space that it once filled as his wife left for the kitchen. How could she say that? Alexander was hardly going to let his sister continue striving for a mans attention where, come hell or high water, she would not get it. She needed to know, perhaps she didn't need to know it was Augustus Rookwood that was her biological Father, but Anastasia needed answers. Her entire life the Gryffindor had had hundreds of questions, worries, concerns about why her Father didn't seem to be interested in her and now Alexander had the answers but... At a price.

If Anastasia found out the truth no doubt she wouldn't be able to keep her fat mouth shut. Soon everyone within the pure blood circles would find out about the scandal, after all it was a scandal. Pansy may not have screwed around with a muggle born but she'd done it with another pure blood. Gone behind the back of another woman, a woman who believed her to be a friend of sorts. Naturally the Rookwood family would survive, they'd find a way to shush it all up but dampening down a fire doesn't make people forget the smoke.

'What do we do then, Isadora?' Alexander asked slowly as he arrived at the doorway to the kitchen. 'I can't keep this to myself. I may not want to tell Anastasia, Merlin knows it'd turn into a pure blood scandal if she opened her mouth. This could ruin the Rookwoods and the Notts. Does anybody else know? Did they mention if Augustus' Alexander shuddered at the idea of his Mother and him, 'Do you think he knows already?'

If anybody did know then they needed silencing. Alexander wasn't a killer, Lord no, but he could silence people in other ways with a few tricks he'd learnt from his Mother.

It wasn’t often that— no, it was never. Isadora never touched the bread with her bear fingers, got butter on her nails or handled the cold meats. Yet, tonight she was making an example. It was no worse than when the newt eyes had gone bad and oozed all over her hands. She broke off lettuce leaves, throwing them into the air for her magic to catch and start to chop. She sliced long bits of ciabatta and removed the garlic butter from the fridge. With her wand she melted the butter onto the bread and put some spicy Spanish sausage slices in the bread. The lettuce had gone in underneath, in a daze she drizzled some honey balsamic vinegar over the top and with a last flourish she broke off some blue cheese into it. She cut the sandwiches up, plated them, and when she was done she stood by the counter, throwing an aimless bit of magic in the direction of the mess as she tried to think.

Alexander had a point. What on earth where they to do?

“Eat,” she replied, pushing one plate into his hands before picking up her own and moving to sit at the breakfast table. “Eat and let’s think about this.”

She broke off a piece and took a bite before sparing him a pointed look. Picking up her wand again, she summoned the whisky as though that was somehow going to tempt him and she poured herself a few more fingers, her mind conjuring up a hundred awful scenarios that could lead to Anastasia finding out or, if she didn’t until later on, finding out that they had known and not told her. She had no idea what to do. Eating was a good plan, though. Drinking was an even better one – although that wouldn’t allow them to reach a decent solution to their troubles. Isadora herself still wanted to sneak to bed and try not to think about it. She had a new book and everything, too, but he’d asked the question and, after all said and done, she was a Ravenclaw. She had to have an answer – or at least a plan.

“You have to keep this to yourself, at least for now. Merlin knows this should not come from us. Your mother has to do it if anyone’s going to do it.” She took a sip of the whisky and sat back in the chair, breaking the rod-like posture she usually maintained. Isadora reached up and rubbed at her eyebrow, a sigh of frustration lifting from her chest.

“If Augustus knows, he doesn’t care,” she ventured. “He’s notorious for not being particularly good with his daughters. It was one of those great ironies, wasn’t it – when his wife died with his son in childbirth and he’d spent the last eighteen years searching endlessly for a spare – then his son gets married and creates two in one shot. I don’t think he’d be interested in Anastasia even if she held some sort of great answer to one of life’s mysteries. I think that’s for the best, too. They’re not nice people, the Rookwoods.”

“That said,” she tipped her head to the side as she conceded, “the Malfoys aren’t nice people either, and to some I expect the Notts aren’t, too. I guess that’s relative. However, I know for a fact that Raghnall Rookwood scares my grandfather so if he can scare Lucius Malfoy, I do not think that this is the snake’s nest we want to be letting Ana into, do you?”

“We’re not meant to know all this, are we?” She reminded him. “So maybe … maybe if we’re to get involved at all then we should intercede with your father on your mother and Ana’s behalf. In fact, for all our sakes’. If we don’t keep this quiet, we might be ruined but the Rookwoods will make sure we’re all dust. After tonight, it’s reasonable, I think, to assume it’s going to be your father who will drop the ball. So perhaps, we should start there and use the fact that he loves you the most to our advantage?”

Alexander accepted the plate from his wife and took a seat opposite her at the kitchen table. He wasn't particularly hungry, the news Isadora had broken had replaced his appetite and the only thing he was concerned about was protecting the Nott name from the dangers that this knowledge, if made public, could bring. Regardless, Alexander took a bite from the sandwich and took the time Isadora spent talking to eat the sandwich and get it out of the way so he could go back to concentrating on the matter at hand.

Isadora hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw for nothing. It was this sort of intelligence that intrigued Alexander. She was calculating, good at planning ahead and forecasting potential outcomes, the perfect partner in crime. One day her brains would be used for more than brewing potions but to aid Alexander in his ministerial quest, Isadora just wasn't aware of the plans he had install for her just yet. The way his wife's brain worked marvelled Alexander. Her thoughts were so intricate and interconnected that, in spite of the seriousness, the death eater couldn't help but crack a smile. It was kind of a turn on.

All sexual desires aside the Malfoy was right. The rookwoods weren't nice people. If Augustus were to find out, assuming he didn't already know, then things could turn sour for Alexander's family. Most likely he and Isadora would be spared but the fates of Theodore, Pansy and Anastasia were unclear. Would Anastasia be spared? Or would she be slaughtered to punish Pansy? Or would Pansy offer her daughter to save her own back? Surely not. Pansy was many things but Alexander couldn't see her as someone to discard her child, especially after the affection she'd shown her daughter earlier that evening when sending her off with her brother and sister-in-law.

'I think speaking to my Mother would be useful.' Alexander replied, dusting his fingers of left behind crumbs. 'She's probably trying to talk to Father now and we don't have a clue what is being said. If she could update us then maybe it'd give us a better idea on how to go about matters with Father.'

Alexander's use of the word 'us' illustrated how Isadora was now integral to his existence. The pair had been placed together in an arranged marriage but now they operated as a team, ever since the time Isadora had poisoned a werewolf during her shift at the apothecary. As awful as situations like these were if there was any silver lining to gain from them it was that you discovered the people you could depend on. It brought people closer and Alexander and Isadora were evident of that.

'But.' Alexander continued. 'That'd mean telling Mother what we know and it could raise a few questions. I guess I could easily say that I overheard them before I found them in the dining room but.'

He paused.

'I've never seen my Father like that before. He's always been someone who sat in Mother's shadow granting her wishes and letting her have her way. I'm not sure I'd know how to approach him with this, even if Mother provided us with more information.'

The fact that his Father had killed someone that day already and had pulled his wand out on Anastasia was a lingering thought.

It felt almost funny to be sat at the breakfast table, eating sandwiches and plotting their next move like they were a team. With a bit of a start, Isadora realised that the illusion she’d just summoned was their reality. It wasn’t a slightly whimsical simile in that way. No. They were a team now. She had no clue when that had happened, just as she had no clue where his declaration of love had come from. Her heart gave a little flutter just thinking about it. She couldn’t linger on that, though. No, she had to keep the cogs of her mind turning and they had to find a resolution.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Isadora nodded after swallowing a mouthful of sandwich. The only problem was that she had no idea whether or not Alexander’s mother would help them. She felt as though this was something that Pansy would want to resolve on her own in a sort of ‘it’s my mess, I’ll deal with it’ fashion. It was too late for that now, though; far, far too late. Now they weren’t only involved in theory, by knowing the details. They were also involved by the virtue of having Anastasia in their home with them and if the legitimate adults were unwilling to make this work then it was their job to sort it out for them.

“He needs to feel valued then, really,” Isadora considered. “Maybe we should treat it as though we’re really seeking to cover for him? If he’s now resenting feeling subservient it’s not really our place – or in our interests – to tell him what to do. If anything, we should try and get him to reach the conclusion himself. He’s still being manipulated, I suppose, but if he feels flattered and considered then perhaps he’ll be less likely to notice?”

Alexander's eyebrows furrowed slightly. The idea of crossing his Father didn't bode well, especially after the display Theodore Nott had show earlier at dinner. Besides, Alexander's acting ability wasn't as mastered as his Mother's, there was too much of a connection between them for the death eater to pull it off.

'No. I can't do that. Besides, who are we to tell him what is the right thing to do.' Alexander stood up and began to pace the kitchen, ignoring Duchness as she sidled into the kitchen in search of her female master.

'There isn't really any need for us to bring it up. Just as long as Anastasia never finds out we'll be fine. Theodore and Pansy are hardly going to blow their cover, they're not stupid they know how disastrous it could be to our family if the truth found it's way into public knowledge.'

Saying that didn't ease him though. A part of him was still concerned for his sister. How would he look at her in the same now he knew that they had a different Father? Now that he knew the reasons Theodore never seemed to show any affection towards Anastasia? And what would he do every time she complained about Father not giving her the time of day? Alexander had always told her to act more pureblood, to mature and value pure blood traditions but her not being pure blood wasn't the problem, the problem was how she was pure blooded. Augustus Rookwood. It all made sense as to why it was only ever Pansy who seemed excited about pure blood socials at the Rookwood's.

'I don't know what I'm going to do, Isadora.' He said, finally putting an end to his pacing as he placed both hands flat on the table, hunched over looking defeatedly towards his wife. 'I can't act like I don't know anything but I can't say anything to Anastasia and making my parents aware that we know wont resolve anything.'



(ooc: do you think I should send Anastasia into the thread and have her overhear? Or do you think we could play this out over a few threads before she finds out?)

“We’re not going to tell him what the right thing is to do,” Isadora replied, narrowing her eyes. Had he not been listening to her? She had not said that they should tell Theodore what to do. Indeed, she credited herself with a little bit more sense than that and she certainly felt that Alexander should do the same – or at least adopt some. Who were they, indeed? Well, she would have argued that they were the most important people to be potentially hurt by the scandal that could erupt as a result of his father’s hot-headedness. Instead, she kept silent and decided to listen to her husband and focus on quelling the feeling that he was turning into a quibbling craven at the thought of dealing with this.

“You need to act like you’re going to be head of this house one day,” she snapped, getting to her feet. She was truly beginning to wonder why men were left to deal with these tragedies. She hardly wanted to turn into Pansy – especially with all of the trappings and illegitimacy that seemed to follow in the woman’s wake – but Isadora was not above manipulation in order to meet her ends. They needed their family safeguarded for the future and if that meant treating Theodore in a way that would garner the appropriate sort of behaviours from him then that was something she was prepared to do. She could have run away, she reminded herself, but instead she’d married him. She wasn’t going to see this investment go up in smoke just yet.

“You saw him at that dinner, Alexander. You’re not blind. If he behaves like that in front of anyone who has a loose tongue then we are done for. We do not need to tell him what he needs to do. He knows what he needs to do, it’s been bred into him. His veins run with propriety, not blood. Tonight he forgot that, though, and he needs his memory jogged. If you don’t want to deal with it then I will. It’s not about resolution, it’s about burying it. Resolution requires the sort of idyll our lives cannot accommodate. A resolution would be Anastasia bonding with the Rookwoods and them accepting her and the whole of our community accepting a bastard being flaunted out in the open and that is not going to happen.”

Isadora took a breath. “She’s a Nott. It doesn’t matter where she came from. As far as the whole world is concerned, Anastasia is a Nott and if the man whose first priority should be to protect this family mucks that up then we are all done for. I won’t stand for that potential reality. I am not going to put up with it. So you need to think about this. We need to be subtle. They need to know we know even if it is not said aloud and your father needs to remind himself – with a little bit of gentle coaxing – that it is his first duty in this life to protect his family and if he does not then there are dire consequences for us all. This is not something you can just bow out of, Alexander!”

(OOC: Ooh, I like the slow burn idea!)

All of a sudden it felt as though Alexander was back in his first year at Hogwarts, being lectured by an older cousin who had caught him talking to a mudblood. Since that first week Alexander had been an exemplary pure blood. He'd learnt who to socialise with and who not to. Knew which families would help him and which would hinder. At Hogwarts he had been popular, one of the purebloods everybody admired. Leaving Hogwarts, however, the Slytherin had collided head on with reality. He wasn't special anymore, nor was he superior. He was a minnow in a sea full of sharks and it was high time he became a shark. A great white to be precise.

Isadora wasn't like the female pure bloods in the Slytherin common room. Whether they agreed with Alexander or not they would have pretend to with their girlish squeals, much like Pansy had done in her past. Isadora wasn't a yes person. She had her head screwed on and wasn't going to bow down and follow her husbands orders when she knew better. That is what set Isadora apart from the purebloods in his common room: she had brains and Alexander was feeling the cut of her sharp mind.

'How do we go about being subtle? How do we let him know that we know without actually saying it? How do we exert our knowledge and use it as a threat to keep him quiet?' Alexander asked. He hated to be the one without answers because, as Isadora said, he was the one to lead the family one day but at this moment in time he was still a minnow.

'I don't want my Father to become an enemy. He could cut us out quiet easily if he wanted to and, right now, the pure blood community would more likely listen to what he has to say. If he cuts us out the rest of them would most likely do so too.'

He sighed.

'I guess I never anticipated that the politics of our society would be so cutthroat. I never thought I'd find myself in such an undesirable position.' He told his wife before walking to the cupboard besides the fridge, reaching for a glass and a bottle of their finest wine. Uncorking the bottle he poured himself a glass.

'Would you care for a glass?'

Whisky and now wine. Either they were going to sample the entirety of that which, alcoholically, their home could provide that evening or the pair were looking for the best and most efficient way to get themselves horrendously drunk. It wouldn’t do, of course, to be inebriated while in charge of Alexander’s younger sister yet Isadora had developed a taste for wine and, equally, a desire to, for now, forget the terrible events of this evening. Though, mind you, she didn’t think she would ever be able to un-see the white globes of that dead man’s backside. It was a rather unseemly way to die.

She took a glass of her own and set it down beside his to fill as she considered what Alexander had said. They were school points, all of them. It was just a question of how they were going to solve the problems he rightly raised. They needed a plan. Only, the thing was, nothing was particularly coming to mind. A wild idea occurred to her that they could lie, claim she was pregnant, and impress upon Theodore the need to maintain the social position of the family for their heir in the hope he’d take the hint. But then, there were several problems with that plan that spoke for themselves. It wouldn’t work.

Picking up her glass, Isadora took a long gulp of the wine, letting the taste simmer over her tongue. She sorely wished that this could have been simpler – but then if it was simple then Pansy would have kept her legs shut. She would have sufficed with Theodore. But then, what was life without a little excitement? Although, the very real possibility of Theodore cutting them off did rankle somewhat with Isadora. It wasn’t as though the dowry that Draco had managed to cough up would come their way if Theodore did, and it was hardly proper for the Malfoys to provide financial aid now. Things would have to be handled delicately. But then also:

“He’d be a fool if he did.” Isadora set down her glass and looked at her husband, trying to get some inspiration from the slightly strained features of her Slytherin. “Life wasn’t meant to throw you bludgers like this one, Alexander,” Isadora murmured with a half-smile. “I don’t know how we’re going to do it yet. I’ll figure it out. Hopefully a solution will reveal itself to us.” She looked at him sideways, a slight smirk lifting onto her features.

“Until then,” she turned, her arms snaking up to curl around his neck. She drew in close to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement and that little dampening tinge of lust. “How about I tempt you to something a little bit better than the wine, hm?” She drew her finger down the front of the shirt, reaching for a button which she turned between her forefinger and thumb. “Though, we can take it with us if you like.” She raised a brow and glanced up at him as she eased the button from the hole. “Let’s leave the front door unlocked and go to bed, eh?”

Isadora was right, his Father would be a fool to cut them off, although Alexander had learnt a lot that evening: People were more foolish than you would expect. Pansy was a fool to land herself pregnant, she had been a fool to think Theodore would happily live a lie portraying the role of a Father that he wasn't. Then Theodore was a fool himself for blowing up in front of the family and having an argument at a time when he should have bit his tongue and held his breath knowing Isadora was around the manor somewhere.

'I hope a solution reveals itself too.' Alexander breathed back, his bottom lip opening limply as he found himself transfixed by the excitement that his wife's eye held. He felt like a moth to a flame as he allowed her to trace around her neck and easing his nerves. Alexander merely stood there, his heart unsure whether to beat faster with excitement or to calm down and enjoy the ride Isadora was about to give him.

'Leave the door unlocked? You're starting to sound like my Mother.' Alexander replied, a smirk forming across his face as he lent in to kiss Isadora, a hand reaching around to support her back as he bent her back, his lips landing kisses along her neck.



'Hello.' A voice called out. A voice that caused Alexander to retract from his wife and cause hairs on his arms and neck to rise. Anastasia was home. How wonderfully well timed.


He looked at his wife. The glum expression worth of a sigh had returned to his face and his eyebrows raised without any real energy as he pressed a smile onto his face.

'Looks like that'll have to wait.' He told her.

“Perish the thought.”

A low laugh bubbled up from the blonde witch’s chest as Alexander spoke and she lifted her head a little, giving him more room to spread the kisses he was lavishing upon her skin. Her fingers creased around his robes and she felt her breath hitch as his lips passed across her pulse point. Her fingers moved down to the button below but before she could get it free, a voice which entirely zapped the lust from her called out through the home and Isadora mentally cursed her mother-in-law for even suggesting that they take Anastasia in.

In that moment, Isadora decided that she was going to extort something expensive out of Pansy once she and Alexander retrieved the woman from the dark hole she’d dug herself into with Theodore. She didn’t know what yet but she had a feeling it would be summer holiday flavoured in the shape of a Caribbean getaway on a leafy island somewhere where they could ignore the world and pretend it was doing something else while they relaxed and got up to more … pleasurable activities.

Alas, until then, they had to babysit.

Passing Alexander a wink, Isadora quickly did his shirt back up and passed by him, picking up the wine bottle to top up their glasses. She half-wished that Anastasia had been a bit slower in Honeydukes or had banked the cash Alexander had given her in the Gringott’s branch down the road instead of coming so promptly back to the house. Still, Isadora supposed that they had been talking for rather a long time and she wished sorely that she’d decided to snap at him while they were in bed as opposed to hanging around the kitchen.

She took a breath and plastered a neutral look upon her face. It might have been normal for Alexander to smile at his sister but Isadora wasn’t about to change the look of general disdain that she had a habit of fixing on her sister-in-law. It would have scared Anastasia, probably, for Isadora to appear pleased to see her – even if it was her welfare that Isadora was concerned for. Well, the family’s reputation was slightly more important but all the same, Ana did matter.

“Find anything nice from the sweet shop?” Isadora called distractedly, hoping the discussion would be short so Ana would go off to bed and she could have her husband to herself.