The rope is like a snake...

Theodore Nott is looking rather weary, as if he hasn't been properly out and about in some time and isn't entirely certain that he wants to be now that he is. In fact, he looks exactly how he feels. It has, for him, been three months since the final battle and Harry Potter's defeat of Voldemort and Theodore has spent that time holed up in St. Mungo's, where he was taking his own sweet time to heal in a place that kept him safe from any straggling Dark Lord supporters who might not take too kindly to him and his failure to truly fight by their side.

He's been released now, though, and so he has nothing to do and nowhere to go. His sense of self-preservation tells him that going home wouldn't be conducive to avoiding any escaped Death Eaters but coming here isn't any safer and he knows it. So he's found himself a bedroom that appears to have been previously unoccupied but isn't too far off from the main center of activities. It has two doors into two different hallways and it keeps him out of the way while also leaving him an easy enough line of escape if necessary. Such considerations are simply inflated versions of the sorts of things he always used to think about before but now he feels more like one of the many who spent so much of the last year running for their lives. Never mind the fact that that's exactly what he feels like he's doing right now.

Typist: Theodore Nott, canon adjusted to post-DH/pre-epilogue. I'm making this an openpost instead of a reintro because the comm is already getting swamped as it is. Any rabbits are free to discuss DH events and beyond and epiloguepups are welcome. For information on his life during and after the final battle, go here.

08 mar 2006 @ 11:32 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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*is still rather in shock and so has yet to truly respond to the current situation but he shows his shock by remaining painfully calm and so he sits staring out of a window and waiting for it all to process properly* *and this after he and Draco had just begun to work over their differences*

24 déc 2005 @ 17:35 He hardly lives but he can't forget...

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A packages is left somewhere Millicent will find it. The card attached reads as follows:
I know that I never see you, I know that I have rather abandoned everything and everyone, and I know that it may not mean much, but I do still love you.

- Theo

Inside the package is a box containing a sketchbook and a plain notebook along with a pencil charmed to never dull. On top of them, there is a silver chain from which there hangs a silver rose charm. On the back of the charm is etched a name: A'marie Celestyne Nott. If one looks up the name, they will find that it belonged to his mother.

15 sep 2005 @ 13:31 (pas de sujets)

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...I haven't been near this thing in months. I've spoken to my typist from time to time, and she hasn't pressured me to say anything, but I feel as if perhaps I should. Unfortunately, I haven't a clue what to say. I feel as if I've lost my control of expression, if I had any to begin.

So...I suppose...to start...school is in session again and it's...odd. My grandfather. He just kept going on about it, about how "Hogwarts will be better off without that doddering old fool, Dumbledore." I don't know what I think or feel on that matter or many others. I've just begun my seventh year and I have nothing, really, save for a wish to survive it and, sometimes, I lack even that.

I've been avoiding my friends like I've been avoiding this place. Here I'm hiding from people I have never before had a reason to fear. There I'm...well...I don't know what I'm hiding from. Everything, maybe? Because hiding is so much simpler than facing the world.

I have...so many things I want to say to so many people, things I know I need to say, but I don't know what they are anymore and I wouldn't know how to say them even if I did. I've mucked things up for myself. That much I do know. I can feel it. I just can't tell which mistakes were the worst to have made.

16 avr 2005 @ 22:54 (pas de sujets)

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Why does my typist always decide to force an update when I'm half asleep?

( Survey...thing. )

And now I sleep so that I'm actually coherent tomorrow evening.

15 avr 2005 @ 12:26 This is the typist speaking.

And this is...

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Sort of following in Evie's footsteps and sort of just wanting to put it somewhere for my own easy access, I've decided to post Theo and Milli's conversation. Feel free to read, but remember that this is mun-knowledge. None of the characters can be allowed to read this. ...or Theo will have my head on a silver platter.

( Secret )

14 avr 2005 @ 11:15 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Last night was...odd. Aside from the stupidity of that game, though, it was actually quite enjoyable.

I had a long talk with Millicent. Well, she let me talk at her is really more like it. The point is, I told her things I've been keeping from everyone and I feel much better for it. Somone else knows now. The secret is still mine but I no longer face it alone. It's comforting, really, and the walk we took afterwards... Well, I almost wish it had lasted longer, partly because I was enjoying it enough to lose track of time and partly because then my typist couldn't have prodded me into playing Truth or Dare.

I've said it once and I'll say it again - I prefer to keep my personal affairs private. This includes actions such as snogging my girlfriend. I don't care what the rest of you do but public displays of affection at that level or higher simply aren't me. Thank you.

13 avr 2005 @ 13:00 (pas de sujets)

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My head is killing me and it has nothing to do with the fact that I was drinking last night. It's more the lack of rest. At least this time I had good reason not to sleep more than two hours, what with that whole mess in the chat ~~and I couldn't think straight enough to mix a potion or anything to stop myself from dreaming~~. Memories and nightmares don't provide for the most restful sleep.

You know, I keep finding more and more to talk about but discovering that I have less and less wish to do so. My typist tells me that this reminds her of herself and that she refuses to let me become a hermit. Frankly, I have no plans of becoming a hermit, and I've reminded her that I do have at least one particularly good reason not to, but she seems utterly terrified that I might. A month ago, she might have had good reason to worry. At the moment, I'll stand the bad so long as there's still good waiting beyond it.

09 avr 2005 @ 23:26 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Millicent, I...I need to talk. We need to talk, seeing as we haven't really done so lately, but...I just need a chance to speak, speak without worrying what anyone will think. I've told you before that you're the only one I tell my secrets to. You're likely the only person in my life that I've never lied to, the only person I can't lie to. So...yes. Talking. Not tonight, as I'm having more trouble than usual putting my thoughts into words, but tomorrow or just...soon.

...thank you.

09 avr 2005 @ 15:55 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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This may be the first time that I have been fully awake in the past few days. At the moment, I'm almost wishing that I hadn't woken up. It would have been safer to keep sleeping.

Recent additions to the community, I will admit, make me somewhat nervous and, unrelated to that, I believe I may have succeeded rather well in making a complete fool of myself. I seem to have become rather good at that since coming here. Or at least rather good at putting myself into awkward situations.

08 avr 2005 @ 04:16 Quick! While he's asleep!

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Typist: Ahem...

*is done now*

06 avr 2005 @ 21:04 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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My typist is having a bit of a mental breakdown, I believe. I convinced her an hour ago that she really did need to take a break and, seeing as the only "television" show she ever watches was about to start, it was the best time for her to do so. Now that that has ended, however, I'm not quite sure what to do. She went a bit mad earlier and completely threw out her original draft for the short story she has to have written by noon tomorrow, which means that she only has tonight to write between seven and ten pages, not to mention the reading she hasn't finished. Suddenly I'm reminded of myself and I'd really rather not be.

All of this in mind, I've decided that, for the sanity of all those involved, we aren't terribly likely to come into the chat this evening. The reading isn't terribly important, as she can skim that in the morning and get away without actually reading every single word, but that still leaves the writing. If she either gets into a state of mind that allows her to write this entire story in one shot or else reaches a point at which she desperately needs a break, we might make a brief appearance. If we don't, I will see you all tomorrow. I'm somewhat hoping to at least stop in long enough to see Millicent tonight as I said I would. And I would probably cover that statement with a strike under normal circumstances, but it's really rather pointless trying to hide anything anymore, isn't it?

05 avr 2005 @ 01:53 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Miss Granger. Miss Musichetta.

You win.

I believe you should be thanking Stella now.

04 avr 2005 @ 18:34 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Madame Lestrange? By Salazar, I open my mouth and suddenly my father's circle begins to appear.

My childhood lessons in manners state that, when you know or know of someone, you should greet them. There is every likelihood that she won't recognise who I am, of course. It is, however, just as likely that she will and will then proceed to discover exactly what I've been doing with my time, publicly condemning her nephew not being the least of my "crimes."

Regrettez non vos choix et ne ayez pas honte. Tout est pendant qu'il devrait être.

I think I've used more French in the past two days than I have in the past five years.

04 avr 2005 @ 10:57 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Well, I've slept. I've slept rather well, actually. Once my typist let me be, that is. She's taken to taunting me for her own amusement. I, for one, am not amused.

I am, however, sorry for not responding to everyone's praise and support over that entire issue with Draco. It's simply difficult to find the words to thank everyone individually without sounding redundant, and I dislike redundancy. To those who actually take the time to read this, then, thank you. I believe I've been avoiding all of that for quite some time. When I can generally excuse ignoring him as doing my schoolwork, it's a bit more tolerable. Here, however, it was rather difficult to avoid without avoiding the entire community and I dare say that I'm rather fond of this place, no matter how disturbing and insane it proves to be. The approval of the majority is oddly comforting. ~~To be told that I made our house proud... And Millicent's proud. That's enough.~~

But yes. I believe I've taken up quite enough of my typist's time this morning. I'm being informed that I must resist the urge to wander boredly about the community while she studies for her exam on..."Chaucer," she says it is. Specifically "The Canterbury Tales." All I know is that every time I look over her shoulder I read something vulgar.

Edit: I don't believe I have ever read a "study guide" before that included a line such as "May bangs squire in garden tree."

03 avr 2005 @ 17:30 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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I don't believe I managed to sleep all too much last night. Yes I do realise that it might seem rather odd to be unsure of something so simple as whether or not you've slept, but I really don't know.

I decided to leave my typist to her own devices when she suddenly became violently ill. Crabbe and Goyle were already snoring by the time I actually came into the dorms, which was actually a bit of a relief ~~as I'm honestly not too keen on the potential bodily harm they might do me for simply laughing at them yesterday~~. All I remember after that is lying in bed, putting a silencing charm on the curtains to keep out that noise and...well...staring at the curtains for Merlin knows how long. At least, when I can't sleep ~~or bloody well stop thinking for that matter~~ while at home, I have a window in my room. Staring at the stars is preferable to simply staring at fabric and stone. Stars, in my experience, are somewhat more comforting than granite. ~~And true comfort, in my experience, is difficult to come by.~~

( My typist suggested that I cut the rest for the sake of manners, as it would be rather rude to take up far too much space. )

02 avr 2005 @ 19:45 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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My father would have my head if he had any idea what I've been up to. I dare say he always expected me to follow in his footsteps~~, which would have been far more appealing if his footsteps didn't follow a rather crooked path to Azkaban~~. Death Eater hopeful indeed. ~~My dormmates are going to murder me in my sleep.~~

Merlin's beard, where has Millicent been today?

02 avr 2005 @ 13:19 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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I believe I may actually be getting along with Granger. This could potentially prove disturbing.

01 avr 2005 @ 01:04 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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I had a rather nice entry written that I dare say Millicent, at least, would have found rather amusing. My typist is calling it a "rant." As I will admit to my own self-serving nature, however, I have decided against actually providing it for your perusal. Not only would it have most likely forced an uncomfortable civility between myself and the Gryffindors, Merlin forbid, it would have also caused a certain confrontation that I am not currently in the mood to deal with.

The only reason that I mention any of this is because my typist is upset that I chose not to give you the actual entry and therefore demands that I tease you with information about it. I believe she hopes that I will be questioned on the subject and will eventually give in and tell all, which I shall not, ~~unless Millicent is asking~~ ~~unless I am absurdly inebriated~~ for any reason.

31 mar 2005 @ 19:58 (pas de sujets)

And this is...

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Humeur actuelle:

amused
Musique actuelle: My typist has very irritating dormmates.

My typist offered to allow me use of my personal journal. I have accepted this offer merely in order to make a simple statement.

Weasleys are utterly ridiculous.

I'm sure I shall find more interesting things to say here later but, for now, that will do.

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The rope is like a snake...

...tying in...pulling together...

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