Log [PG]
Who: Theodore and Graham
Where: Grimmauld Place
When: After Graham and Tracey's arrival
Rating: PG
Summary: A confrontation of sorts.
Status: Complete
Theodore sighed softly, shaking the folds out of one of his robes and hanging it in the wardrobe against the far wall of the room he'd been given. Grimmauld Place wasn't quite as threateningly unpleasant as Nott Estate, but it put him a bit on edge, all the same.
Graham walked around the old house for what seemed ages, everything slowly beginning to sink in. He just left school to fight in a war. He didn't even want to hear what his mother would say. He was walking along the hallway of rooms, wondering which one to take, when he heard something in one of the rooms. Glancing inside, he smiled softly. "Theo."
Theodore's head snapped up. "Tracey gave me up, did she." His voice was flat, emotionless.
"No, I figured it out," he replied, watching him. "You could've said goodbye."
"I suspected, rightly, that you would insist on following if I did." Theodore didn't look at him. He couldn't.
"Were you not going to say anything at all? Ever?" Graham asked, setting his things down at the door and slowly walking inside.
"If it would have kept you safe? Yes," he answered, not a shred of remorse in his tone.
Graham stopped in the middle of the room. "Don't you love me?"
"That would be why I don't want you dead, Graham," Theo replied, a little too sharply.
"Well. Didn't you think about what I would think? What about you staying safe, what about you dying?" Graham asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know I'm probably not cut out for this war, but I will work hard to prove to you that I can protect myself."
"Perhaps it hasn't occurred to you, Graham," Theodore said, in tones of dangerous calm, "but not everyone has the same things at stake in this fight. But Tracey, Draco, Harry, they could very well all die, and so could you, and then what would I have left?" Theodore fell briefly silent. "Nothing," he said, much more quietly, "that's what."
Graham sighed softly, continuing to walk over again. "Theo, it's the same thing," he whispered, wrapping his arms around him. "What if you died and the last thing I ever told you was something stupid and not meaningful? I wouldn't have anyone else like you..."
"But you wouldn't be alone." It wasn't much above a whisper.
"I would feel alone," he replied quietly, moving around so he could face him.
"You have family." His expression was carefully blank.
"I would feel alone," Graham repeated. "It's when you're in a room full of people, but you still feel like there's no one there for you."
Theodore looked at him for an altogether too long moment. Stupid, stupid boy, young and idiotic and sappy and, and, and...
"I don't suppose you've ever been taught to duel properly," Theodore said, finally. "And while we're at it, how good are you at the Dark Arts?"
"Good enough to get an E in it," Graham answered, visibly relaxing.
Theodore arched a brow. "Did I say Defense, Pritchard?"
"No. But you know I learn quickly, Theo," Graham said.
"It isn't the same, you know," he said, tone softening slightly. "It's nothing like doing regular magic."
"But I'll learn it," he said, a determined edge to his voice.
"I expect you will," Theo murmured, turning back to his open truck. There was something strange in his voice, an almost bitter resignation that was reflected in his dark eyes, but he didn't elaborate.
Graham watched him quietly for a moment, noticing the change in his attitude almost immediately. "Should I...find another room?"
"You should do what you like," Theo said, "though I'm afraid you're unlikely to find me very pleasant company."
"Find another room, Graham, would've been good enough," he said, turning to pick up his bag at the door and leaving without another word.
Where: Grimmauld Place
When: After Graham and Tracey's arrival
Rating: PG
Summary: A confrontation of sorts.
Status: Complete
Theodore sighed softly, shaking the folds out of one of his robes and hanging it in the wardrobe against the far wall of the room he'd been given. Grimmauld Place wasn't quite as threateningly unpleasant as Nott Estate, but it put him a bit on edge, all the same.
Graham walked around the old house for what seemed ages, everything slowly beginning to sink in. He just left school to fight in a war. He didn't even want to hear what his mother would say. He was walking along the hallway of rooms, wondering which one to take, when he heard something in one of the rooms. Glancing inside, he smiled softly. "Theo."
Theodore's head snapped up. "Tracey gave me up, did she." His voice was flat, emotionless.
"No, I figured it out," he replied, watching him. "You could've said goodbye."
"I suspected, rightly, that you would insist on following if I did." Theodore didn't look at him. He couldn't.
"Were you not going to say anything at all? Ever?" Graham asked, setting his things down at the door and slowly walking inside.
"If it would have kept you safe? Yes," he answered, not a shred of remorse in his tone.
Graham stopped in the middle of the room. "Don't you love me?"
"That would be why I don't want you dead, Graham," Theo replied, a little too sharply.
"Well. Didn't you think about what I would think? What about you staying safe, what about you dying?" Graham asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know I'm probably not cut out for this war, but I will work hard to prove to you that I can protect myself."
"Perhaps it hasn't occurred to you, Graham," Theodore said, in tones of dangerous calm, "but not everyone has the same things at stake in this fight. But Tracey, Draco, Harry, they could very well all die, and so could you, and then what would I have left?" Theodore fell briefly silent. "Nothing," he said, much more quietly, "that's what."
Graham sighed softly, continuing to walk over again. "Theo, it's the same thing," he whispered, wrapping his arms around him. "What if you died and the last thing I ever told you was something stupid and not meaningful? I wouldn't have anyone else like you..."
"But you wouldn't be alone." It wasn't much above a whisper.
"I would feel alone," he replied quietly, moving around so he could face him.
"You have family." His expression was carefully blank.
"I would feel alone," Graham repeated. "It's when you're in a room full of people, but you still feel like there's no one there for you."
Theodore looked at him for an altogether too long moment. Stupid, stupid boy, young and idiotic and sappy and, and, and...
"I don't suppose you've ever been taught to duel properly," Theodore said, finally. "And while we're at it, how good are you at the Dark Arts?"
"Good enough to get an E in it," Graham answered, visibly relaxing.
Theodore arched a brow. "Did I say Defense, Pritchard?"
"No. But you know I learn quickly, Theo," Graham said.
"It isn't the same, you know," he said, tone softening slightly. "It's nothing like doing regular magic."
"But I'll learn it," he said, a determined edge to his voice.
"I expect you will," Theo murmured, turning back to his open truck. There was something strange in his voice, an almost bitter resignation that was reflected in his dark eyes, but he didn't elaborate.
Graham watched him quietly for a moment, noticing the change in his attitude almost immediately. "Should I...find another room?"
"You should do what you like," Theo said, "though I'm afraid you're unlikely to find me very pleasant company."
"Find another room, Graham, would've been good enough," he said, turning to pick up his bag at the door and leaving without another word.