hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-11-08 08:55 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-11-08 08:55 am
Entry tags:
HP - TN/NL - The Coast is Never Clear (II of II)
The Coast is Never Clear (I of II)
The Coast is Never Clear (II of II)
Notts did not run through the halls of their ancestral home yanking on their clothing like heathens with no training or upbringing. They certainly didn’t take the stairs two at a time and then jump the last four steps and slide on bare feet through the foyer – at least they didn’t do these things under normal circumstances, but as everyone knew, times were changing; so Theodore only hastened his stride and glanced quickly at his mother’s portrait, which thankfully, was still empty.
He took a deep breath outside the sitting room, smoothed his hair down, and walked in to find Blaise Zabini’s face in his fireplace.
“Look who finally decided to answer my calls.” Blaise’s eyes rolled dramatically in the green flames as Theodore crossed the room.
“Have you been calling long?” Theodore asked.
“Only for three whole minutes,” Blaise said. “It was very taxing for my vocal chords; if I get laryngitis I’m blaming you, and where are your house elves? Where’s Alexandria? Whatever were you doing that you couldn’t --“
Blaise's visage squinted in the fireplace. “You’re not wearing any shoes,” he said.
“I was just having a lie down.” Theodore dropped onto the velvet ottoman in front of the fireplace that was normally used for conversations held in this way. The ottoman had also been transfigured into a pony when he and Alexandria were younger.
“In the middle of the day?” Blaise was all disbelief.
“That’s why it’s called a 'lie down', Blaise.” Theodore pinched his nose and began counting by threes in Italian -- that was his father’s trick.
Tre, sei, nove, tredici...
“You’ve got company, haven’t you?” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “I was thinking of coming over in a bit, but perhaps not.”
“No, no I don’t –- but I don’t think now is a terribly good time,” said Theodore.
“Really? Why ever not?”
“Because I’m not feeling terribly well, and I could be contagious. We all know how fussy you are when you’re ill.”
“I’m not Draco,” Blaise said.
“Yes, but all the same…” Blaise narrowed his eyes and Theodore sighed. It was coming. He could tell. Morgana protect him.
“I know you’re not attempting to lie to me, since you normally do it so better than this,” Blaise began. “This is laughable.”
Theodore shifted on the ottoman. He felt quite warm this close to the fire. “What are you getting at, Blaise?”
“Your clothes are all rumpled, Theodore.”
“Are they really?”
“Theodore Marcellus Nott,” Blaise said.
“Blaise Anton Dominico Machiavelli Zabini,” Theodore parroted.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Blaise said, his hand passed over his face and the fire was a green blur for several moments.
Theodore blinked. “What do you know about hell?”
“Now is not the time to be pedantic, Theodore. Have you got -- you have. I can’t believe you’ve fucking -- Have you lost your mind?”
Theodore did not flinch. “You know what they say about incomplete sentences, Blaise.”
“You’ve got that -- that Gryffindor in your house!” Blaise shouted.
Blaise said ‘Gryffindor’ as though it were a terminal disease -- which it was considered to be in quite a few Slytherin homes.
Theodore got up from the ottoman and closed the sitting room doors. “I’ll thank you not to refer to him in that manner,” he replied, his tone sharp.
Blaise was not to be put-off. “You’ve gone mad, haven’t you? Where’s your father? What if he sees –- what am I speaking of, he’s obviously not home or you wouldn’t look this way. What if he comes home while Longbottom is there?”
Theodore stood in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed defiantly. “Neville is a pureblooded wizard of impeccable lineage; there’s no reason for Longbottoms and Notts not to associate.”
“He’s one of them!” Blaise hissed. “It doesn’t matter if his grandfather was Rasputin!”
“You know as well as I do that Rasputin would never sire a Gryffindor heir,” Theodore said calmly. “And I’ll thank you to keep your voice down.”
Blaise seemed slightly manic. “Has he got you under Imperio -- never mind. This is Longbottom, he couldn’t Imperio his toad.”
“Blaise.”
“You’re really doing this, aren’t you? It’s not just a passing fancy of some sort either. Have you tried shagging it out of your system? Is that what you’re doing now?” Blaise paused thoughtfully. “No, that’s much more Draco’s speed than yours. ”
Theodore didn’t answer any of Blaise’s questions. “Did you want something or did you fancy just sitting in the fireplace all afternoon and staring at nothing?”
It was Blaise’s turn to pinch his nose, and after several moments he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. Have at it. I’ll do what I can to protect your secret.”
Theodore exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Thank you.”
“Yes, well, you can thank me by not getting yourself killed.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Theodore said with a small smirk. “Anything else?”
Blaise looked confused for several seconds and then smiled. “Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot in all the insanity of you losing the plot -- I was after a bit of information.”
“Such as?”
“Terry Boot.”
Theodore blinked, and then his smirk began to enlarge. “Are you after a bit of information or a bit of something else?’ he asked shifting from one foot to another.
“Theodore Nott, are you implying that my motives might be questionable?”
“Blaise, I’ve known you since we were Promised, born, and then Un-promised because you weren’t a girl.”
“Who knew you couldn’t be betrothed to someone of the same gender?”
“You can according to the Kinsey Rule of 1969,” Theodore pointed out.
“Yes, but then there would be no heirs, and you know how important lineage is. My mum still curses Bathsheba’s Baby Gender-Generator to this day,” Blaise said ruefully.
Theodore shook his head. “She must be thrilled that you fancy girls and boys then."
Blaise snorted. "Indeed."
"What do you want with Terry Boot?”
“I’m not terribly sure yet,” Blaise answered honestly. “He’s quite fit though, and Professor Vector seems to think he’s the best Arithmancy student in our year.”
“Which you could be if you ever did your homework.”
Blaise made a dismissive wave of his hand. “Details. Anyway, have you got anything for me as far as he goes? Likes, dislikes, preferences, blackmail material? I know you had a dalliance at some point.”
“Hardly,” Theodore said. “Nothing really. Left-handed. Quite a good snogger. Terribly into Quidditch.”
Blaise made a face. “Bloody Quidditch strikes again.”
Theodore smiled. “You asked.”
“Yes, well, the fit ones always have something wrong with them, don’t they?”
Theodore’s smile grew larger.
Blaise smiled back. “Well, enough talk, go back to whatever unseemly behaviour you were up to.”
“I don’t know -“ Theodore began, but before he could formulate a proper response there was a tiny pop and Blaise was gone. All that remained was the faint smell of smoke.
Theodore took a few moments to compose himself and clear his throat. He’d been gone for quite some time, surely longer than three minutes. Or even five. Perhaps it would be best if he returned with an offering of some sort to placate Neville, not that he expected Neville to be out of sorts, surely he hadn’t been gone that long.
Nonetheless, a great many rows had been stemmed by biscuits and juice. He would need to summon Bippy -– except he’d sent the house elves off on a fool’s errand.
He would have to collect the food himself, and surely it couldn’t be that hard to prepare juice and chocolate biscuits. Taking a deep breath, he opened the sitting room doors, stepped into the hall... and heard his mother’s dulcet tones carrying on a conversation with someone.
This did not bode well in a house that should have been empty, and Theodore’s mind raced to think of possible explanations for his current shoeless state. If Alexandria were home early – that wasn’t possible, as he had been occupying the front room fireplace and Floo. She could have come in through the kitchen, but surely he would have heard her, and his father never traveled by kitchen Floo, which only left...
Neville.
Theodore froze in the entryway to the foyer and took in the scene before him.
His mother was standing by her desk, gazing down at Neville as though she found him quite engaging. Neville stood at the foot of the marble staircase, elbow on the rosewood railing; he was looking at Theodore’s mother’s portrait in the same manner that Theodore often did when she was indulging him on some trivial matter.
Perhaps he found the red amulet she wore as hypnotic as Theodore did.
Neville’s clothing was clean and he looked very fetching in the long sleeved white shirt he wore, plus there was color in his cheeks and he looked healthy and happy. There was nothing dour or tightly-wound about him. He didn’t scream breeding, but he presented himself well.
Except for being barefoot.
“Theodore, why didn’t you tell me we were having company?” Theodore blinked at his mother and tried to compose his thoughts as rapidly as possible.
This was not going as he’d planned. He wanted Neville to meet his mother under more controlled conditions -– or least when he could be there from the outset.
Being covert in one’s own home was extraordinarily taxing to the nerves, and Theodore looked at his mother with wide eyes. He didn’t do innocent terribly well, but it was unheard of him to be caught with his hand in the proverbial biscuit tin.
His mother’s gaze was piercing, but her tone was kind. “I wish I had known Neville was coming, I would have postponed my afternoon plans,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Mother, I didn’t mean to keep it -- him -- from you,” Theodore confessed.
“I try to take an interest in Theodore’s friends,” his mother explained as she turned back to Neville and smiled. “Especially those who possess such a great knowledge of Herbology. Theodore’s never been terribly interested in plants, but he often helped in the garden to humour me. Have you had a chance to see our gardens, dear?”
Theodore could feel the flush coming from somewhere, and he struggled to contain it as Neville glanced at him and then shook his head. “No, Mrs Nott.”
“That is a pity; you’ll have to come back in the spring and look at them, I think. Don’t you, Theodore?” The nod she made with her head was practically imperceptible, except to her family, and Theodore felt the tension in his shoulders release tenfold.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” he said.
Theodore’s mother nodded her head again, this time more noticeably. “Yes, as do I.”
The sentence was a simple answer, but to Theodore it was much more. He crossed the foyer to where Neville was and stood by his side.
“I would love to stay and chat,” his mother said producing her rosewood wand from somewhere and changing the color of her cloak from a deep blue to a mercury-silver, “but I really must get on before Uncle Reginald starts off for the dinner party without me. Neville, it was lovely to meet you and I hope to see you again; Theodore, please make certain your sister does all her French recitations.”
“I will,” Theodore said.
And with that his mother was gone.
Theodore couldn’t say how long he stared at the painting after she was gone, but it was some time before he detected that Neville was tugging gently on the sleeve of his shirt. “C’mon,” was all he said as he led Theodore back up the stairs to his room.
*
Theodore wasn’t the sort to spend his time day-dreaming or imagining a reality that would never come to pass, and yet he found himself slightly distracted as Neville closed the door of his bedroom behind them and sat down on the bed.
He had wanted Neville to meet his mother, and he could never have asked for a better initial meeting between them, and yet it grated that it had happened without any machinations on his part. It was a very natural interaction -– and very un-Slytherin, but Neville was a Gryffindor and his mother a Ravenclaw, so perhaps that was simply the order of things.
He felt rather dazed by the proceedings, and it was only when Neville started to remove his own clothing that Theodore focussed on the scene before him.
Neville Longbottom was taking off his clothing in Theodore’s room. In Nott Terrace. And there was no one around to bother them.
Theodore blinked and removed his own shirt with some haste, before dropping it on the floor -- somewhere in the world one of the Nott house elves was having a conniption.
Theodore strode across the room quickly, and he paused at the edge of his bed when he realised Neville’s fingers were shaking as he undid his jeans. “I can help you with that,” Theodore said, raising his eyebrow slightly in an effort to ease Neville’s tension.
Neville relaxed and stretched out on the length of Theodore’s bed, smiling. “Have at it.”
It was Theodore’s turn to suffer anxiety, and once again he fought the duvet cover for purchase as he climbed onto the bed and knelt between Neville’s legs. He would have to transfigure the silk into something less slippery for the next visit.
Neville twitched when Theodore’s fingers touched his bare chest, and he leaned forward slightly to tweak one Neville’s nipples. The bud tightened under Theodore’s fingers, and Neville’s resulting squeak wasn’t the most masculine sound ever, but it made them both laugh.
“Is there any reason I should be feeling this nervous?” Neville’s voice hitched as Theodore traced the left nipple with the tip of his finger and then the right one.
“I think that really depends on you.” Theodore counted Neville’s ribs as he slowly dragged his hands down Neville’s stomach. “Do you like it when I do this?”
Theodore traced Neville’s navel with his index finger.
“Yeah – yes,” Neville corrected.
“And what about this?”
Theodore spread the opening of Neville’s jeans and shifted until he was crouched over Neville’s groin. He glanced up at Neville to make sure he had his undivided attention before he licked a line from Neville’s navel down to the waistband of his Y-fronts.
“Yeeeessss.”
Theodore blinked before remembering that Neville was not a Parselmouth.
“Then I think we should be all right,” Theodore shifted back onto his haunches and hooked his fingers under the waistband of Neville’s jeans. “Lift.”
The clothing came off with a minimal amount of trouble, and Theodore rose onto his knees to adjust himself. Neville made another noise, and Theodore looked up and gave him a wicked grin. “One thing at a time,” he said.
Neville propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. “I’m not really keen on that idea,” he said.
Theodore’s grin slid into a smirk. “Oh, really?”
Theodore had noticed that Neville didn’t tend to move terribly fast unless he was motivated; clearly today he was motivated, because one moment Theodore was kneeling on his bed smirking, and the next Neville had grabbed him, pinned him and was doing extraordinarily interesting things to get him out of his trousers.
Theodore’s teeth snapped together when Neville palmed his dick through wool, and he almost bit off his tongue. How he would have explained that would have been truly an interesting thing to see, but instead he squirmed on the bed as Neville groped him.
Grabbing fists full of spiky hair, Theodore pulled Neville’s mouth towards his and kissed him hard. It wasn’t a particularly polite kiss, but it was hard and wet, and when Theodore slipped his tongue into Neville’s mouth he was all business.
A growl escaped the back of his throat when Neville pulled away, and he stared hard at Neville’s wet, red mouth as he said something that went right past Theodore’s ears.
Theodore wanted that mouth back on his and then he wanted it on his dick and then –- well, there was no need to put the carriage before the Thestral. Theodore reached out to pull Neville back and stopped when he discerned that Neville was trying to remove his trousers.
Batting Neville’s hands away, Theodore kicked his legs free with haste and his cock slapped wetly against his stomach as he tried to tug Neville back down. He missed the warm security of Neville’s body blanketing his. He frowned when Neville refused to budge.
“You weren’t wearing any pants.” Neville’s tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes were huge, and Theodore made a dismissive gesture with his hands until he understood that Neville was staring at him as though he were something he'd never seen before.
It was Theodore’s turn to twitch when Neville ran his hand up the inside of Theodore’s left thigh. “Does it bother you that I’m not wearing any pants?” Theodore asked as he bent his knees and spread his legs. “It’s not as though you haven’t seen me naked before.”
His voice hitched as Neville’s fingers brushed the crease of his thigh and hip and skirted along his ribs. Theodore’s cock twitched on his stomach in disappointment, and their hands bumped against each other as Theodore reached down absently and squeezed himself.
Neville took a shuddering breath, and Theodore took advantage to roll them over so Neville was on his back.
“This is different,” Neville said as Theodore straddled his waist.
“Then we should probably take off your pants as well,” Theodore pointed out, hooking his fingers under the waistband and yanking meaningfully. Neville lifted his hips, and Theodore pulled the offending item off.
Neville’s dick was swollen and flushed, and the head was wet; Theodore licked his lips when Neville made another one of his noises. He shifted to his knees and noticed that Neville had a little scar on his shin that Theodore had never seen before. He stroked it lightly, chuckling when Neville grunted. There was also a scar high on Neville’s thigh that Theodore had only seen in bad lighting, and he touched that one too.
“Are you investigating my scars?” Neville asked.
“Does that bother you?”
“No,” Neville hesitated for a moment. “Am I supposed to be getting turned on by this?”
Theodore’s mouth went dry when Neville gave his own dick a tug. “It’s certainly working for me,” Theodore admitted, tracing the scar on Neville’s thigh with his fingernail.
There was another scar on Neville’s hip, but it was entirely too close to Neville’s cock for Theodore to take serious notice, and without any ceremony, he leaned forward and took the head of Neville’s cock into his mouth.
Neville arched up at this sudden movement and nearly knocked him off the bed. Theodore snorted and petted Neville’s thigh in an effort to calm him down, but judging by the grip Neville had on his duvet, it didn’t work terribly well.
Theodore made an obscene slurping sound as he went up and then back down. Gripping the shaft in his hand, he pulled off and rubbed the fold of foreskin over the head as he licked his lips thoughtfully. Neville always did taste rather salty, but not in an unpleasant way.
Neville’s eyes were closed tight, and Theodore turned his head slightly and nipped at Neville’s hip. “Pay attention,” he said when Neville’s eyes flew open.
He wasn’t prepared for the narrowed eyes or the lip licking. “My turn,” was all Neville said, before once again, Theodore was the one on his back.
Theodore was slightly disoriented by all the rolling around, but he committed himself admirably to being thoroughly kissed by Neville, and he let out a low moan when Neville wedged both his legs between Theodore’s thighs and began thrusting back and forth in a manner that couldn’t be construed as anything else but fucking.
Their cocks were trapped between their stomachs as they rubbed together, and Theodore had not planned on being the ‘shag-ee’; yet he wrapped his legs around Neville’s back and urged him on.
Neville hissed when Theodore nipped at the junction of his shoulder and neck, but he couldn’t really help himself, and he sucked at the bite mark instead of leaving well enough alone. With every thrust of Neville’s hips, Theodore sucked a bit harder until he began to feel dizzy from not breathing. That mark would require a Glamour of some sort before Neville left.
There was no penetration taking place, just lots of friction, and between the sweat and the pre-come and saliva, they were moving around in a slippery mess. Neville’s thighs were slapping against the back of Theodore’s thighs, and he was gasping against Theodore’s neck as Theodore held on.
Neville came first, and when he collapsed on top of him, Theodore worked a hand between their sticky bodies and brought himself off with a few deft strokes. His orgasm started in his groin and traveled to every part of his body, much like Firewhiskey or a potion, and as much as Theodore enjoyed having Neville on top, his lungs were being crushed.
He pushed and wriggled until he was out from under the pressure of a sweating, breathless Gryffindor, and he laughed when Neville turned his head and smiled at him.
“So, was this worth coming over for?” Theodore asked.
“You were,” said Neville.
Theodore blinked. He seemed to have misplaced his ability to speak.
*
Slytherins by nature were not clingy or overly emotional; they were passionate about certain things. Everyone was as far as Theodore’s social circle went, except for Draco Malfoy, who was emotionally unstable full stop. Draco was always an exception though, which was a thought for another time altogether -- and certainly not when Theodore was standing in the Nott kitchen and waiting for Neville Longbottom to depart.
Theodore had never noticed how long his own toes were, and he frowned and shook his head before looking back up. Neville fastened the toggles of his traveling cloak and ran his hand through his hair before stepping into Theodore’s personal space.
“I’ll see you next week?” Neville asked. His mouth was less swollen that it had been an hour ago, but his face was still flushed, and it turned darker when Theodore narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
“I’ll let you know when,” Theodore spoke against Neville’s mouth.
“I’d like that.”
Neville’s eyes fluttered shut, and he tilted his head, Theodore was just closing his eyes when there was a flash of light, and he stepped back. Grabbing Neville by his cloak he pushed him behind him, and coughed as he waited for the green smoke to clear.
“Theo! Theo!”
Theodore peered into the smoky air, but was still bowled over by his sister when she bounded out of the fireplace and threw her arms around his waist. “Back so soon?” he said, petting Alexandria on the top of her head.
“Dottie got Miss Alexandria lots of robes, yes, she did!” Theodore looked up and nodded his head as their house elf emerged from the fireplace only a few steps behind.
“Of course,” Theodore said. “Well, if you’re all done –“
“Who’s this?” Alexandria let go of Theodore and stepped back. He frowned when she cut him off mid-sentence.
“Alexandria,” he began.
“I’m sorry –- I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. Taking another step back, Alexandria gave Neville a small curtsey. “Hello.”
Theodore shook his head and stepped to the side to make a proper introduction. “This is a -- this is Neville. He and I attend Hogwarts together. Neville this is Alexandria, my sister. Alexandria, Neville.”
Neville smiled, and Alexandria gave Neville a very long apprising look before smiling back. “Do you like animals?”
Neville looked thoughtful for several moments. “I prefer plants, but I quite like some animals.”
“Would you like to see my zoo?”
“I’d like that very much,” Neville said, “but I don’t think I can today.”
Alexandria smile diminished, and Theodore opened his mouth, but Neville spoke first. “Perhaps I could come and see them another day.”
“I’d like that,” Alexandria was all smiles again, and Theodore nodded his head when she glanced at him. “Theo, can Neville come back?”
“If he wants,” said Theodore.
“I’d like that,” Neville replied.
Dottie had taken all this in with nary a word, but at another glance between Theodore and Neville she stepped forward. “Miss Alexandria Nott should be getting changed soon, yes?”
Theodore nodded. “We should let Neville get home,” he said.
Alexandria looked at Neville solemnly. “Of course. It was very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said, nodding at Alexandria before stepping forward and taking a bit of Floo powder from the brass canister that Theodore gestured towards.
He glanced over his shoulder at Theodore as he tossed the powder in and green fire ignited; Theodore smiled back.
Neville said something, and then he was gone.
*
The worst thing about having Neville over to Nott Terrace was not that Theodore had been unable to keep the visit a secret, but that after having incorporated Neville into his life, Neville had then had to leave.
It was intolerable, and it made Theodore irritable.
A simple cleaning spell had taken care of the damp mess on his duvet, and they had both been barefoot most of the time, so there were no footprints left to cover over, but even though Neville was gone, his imprint was now all over the house. Theodore could smell Neville in his room, and he sat in his window seat, flipping through his Charms text trying to figure out if he really wanted to eradicate every last trace that Neville had ever been to see him.
A faint knock at the door jarred him, and the book slipped from his fingers. “Come in,” he said clearly.
The door swung open, and Alexandria’s freckled face appeared around the side of the door. She wore rose-coloured pajamas and house shoes, and her brown hair curled around her shoulders. She hadn’t yet had her growth spurt, but Theodore had every reason to believe she would be as tall as their mother.
“Mother’s not in her portrait and Father is in his study; I wanted someone to conjure me the story of Le Petit Sorcerer,” she announced. “Theo, will you read it to me?”
“If you like,” he said, crossing the room and removing his wand from his cupboard. He followed his sister back over to the bay window and waited until she had made herself comfortable.
“Right, now how does the story go again?” he asked as he prepared to conjure up the visuals for her
Alexandria frowned. “I’ve changed my mind, I want a different story now. I want the story about the prince and the other prince and the seven gnomes and the bad apple.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow. “Do I know that story?” he asked.
“You can make it up.”
“I can?”
“Of course you can.” Alexandria gave him a toothy smile. “Also? I like him.”
Theodore froze. “You like who?”
“Your friend.”
Theodore exhaled sharply through his nose and then crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. “I’m glad you like him, I want you to like him, but there’s something I need for you to understand. Father hasn’t met Neville, and ...”
Alexandria fixed him with big, brown eyes. “Who’s Neville?”
“The story of the princes and the gnomes and the bad apple you said?” Theodore repeated again.
“It should also have a dragon and a Pegasus.”
“Right.”
“And a heffalump.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow, but Alexandria was not to be dissuaded.
“Of course,” he said, returning her smirk.
She would make a fine Slytherin if it weren’t for that Squib business. Alexandria’s lack of magical ability was of no importance to Theodore since she was his sister, but he wasn’t terribly certain of the Hogwarts admissions policy where Squibs were concerned, and he had no intention of allowing his sister to be sent away to Beaubaxtons or Durmstrang. She wouldn’t be safe there, especially with Coming Events; she would have to stay where she could be protected.
Of course, family came first because loyalty was everything, but Theodore now had an additional problem. He now had other loyalties, and he wasn’t going to give up Neville either. He would make it work out so that he didn’t have to.
It wasn’t ambition – it was fact.
Notts protected their own.
-end-
Dedicated as always to those who make this possible with their unfailing encouragement:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dorrie6, ethrosdemon, fearlessdiva, lalejandra, plumsnickety (I told you, you’d get props!) and serialkarma.
Special dedication to the relentless and lovelycirce_tigana for all her Theodore appreciation.
Author’s Notes:
1. Frederico de Medici is the concept ofethrosdemon.
2. Longnottom isphineasjones’s petname for the Theodore/Neville pairing.
3. The role of Anora Nott is being played by Monica Bellucci. Also, ‘Anora’ is Latin for honor.
4. I think we’ve all been over the casting ground before, but I do have a new casting announcement to make: the role of Terry Boot will be played by Jamie Bell, who's um, grown up. A lot.
5. Title taken from the LP by Beulah.
6. Some people call them betas, I call them beaters (but only in the most adoring sense). I would be nowhere without their brilliance and constant WTF-is-that? Seriously, I couldn’t ask for better beaters, and all my base are belonging toethrosdemon lalejandra and serialkarma. Thank you, ladies.
Remaining snafus are mine.
ETN: Dude, we are officially an interest now. That's love.
The Coast is Never Clear (II of II)
Notts did not run through the halls of their ancestral home yanking on their clothing like heathens with no training or upbringing. They certainly didn’t take the stairs two at a time and then jump the last four steps and slide on bare feet through the foyer – at least they didn’t do these things under normal circumstances, but as everyone knew, times were changing; so Theodore only hastened his stride and glanced quickly at his mother’s portrait, which thankfully, was still empty.
He took a deep breath outside the sitting room, smoothed his hair down, and walked in to find Blaise Zabini’s face in his fireplace.
“Look who finally decided to answer my calls.” Blaise’s eyes rolled dramatically in the green flames as Theodore crossed the room.
“Have you been calling long?” Theodore asked.
“Only for three whole minutes,” Blaise said. “It was very taxing for my vocal chords; if I get laryngitis I’m blaming you, and where are your house elves? Where’s Alexandria? Whatever were you doing that you couldn’t --“
Blaise's visage squinted in the fireplace. “You’re not wearing any shoes,” he said.
“I was just having a lie down.” Theodore dropped onto the velvet ottoman in front of the fireplace that was normally used for conversations held in this way. The ottoman had also been transfigured into a pony when he and Alexandria were younger.
“In the middle of the day?” Blaise was all disbelief.
“That’s why it’s called a 'lie down', Blaise.” Theodore pinched his nose and began counting by threes in Italian -- that was his father’s trick.
Tre, sei, nove, tredici...
“You’ve got company, haven’t you?” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “I was thinking of coming over in a bit, but perhaps not.”
“No, no I don’t –- but I don’t think now is a terribly good time,” said Theodore.
“Really? Why ever not?”
“Because I’m not feeling terribly well, and I could be contagious. We all know how fussy you are when you’re ill.”
“I’m not Draco,” Blaise said.
“Yes, but all the same…” Blaise narrowed his eyes and Theodore sighed. It was coming. He could tell. Morgana protect him.
“I know you’re not attempting to lie to me, since you normally do it so better than this,” Blaise began. “This is laughable.”
Theodore shifted on the ottoman. He felt quite warm this close to the fire. “What are you getting at, Blaise?”
“Your clothes are all rumpled, Theodore.”
“Are they really?”
“Theodore Marcellus Nott,” Blaise said.
“Blaise Anton Dominico Machiavelli Zabini,” Theodore parroted.
“Oh, fucking hell,” Blaise said, his hand passed over his face and the fire was a green blur for several moments.
Theodore blinked. “What do you know about hell?”
“Now is not the time to be pedantic, Theodore. Have you got -- you have. I can’t believe you’ve fucking -- Have you lost your mind?”
Theodore did not flinch. “You know what they say about incomplete sentences, Blaise.”
“You’ve got that -- that Gryffindor in your house!” Blaise shouted.
Blaise said ‘Gryffindor’ as though it were a terminal disease -- which it was considered to be in quite a few Slytherin homes.
Theodore got up from the ottoman and closed the sitting room doors. “I’ll thank you not to refer to him in that manner,” he replied, his tone sharp.
Blaise was not to be put-off. “You’ve gone mad, haven’t you? Where’s your father? What if he sees –- what am I speaking of, he’s obviously not home or you wouldn’t look this way. What if he comes home while Longbottom is there?”
Theodore stood in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed defiantly. “Neville is a pureblooded wizard of impeccable lineage; there’s no reason for Longbottoms and Notts not to associate.”
“He’s one of them!” Blaise hissed. “It doesn’t matter if his grandfather was Rasputin!”
“You know as well as I do that Rasputin would never sire a Gryffindor heir,” Theodore said calmly. “And I’ll thank you to keep your voice down.”
Blaise seemed slightly manic. “Has he got you under Imperio -- never mind. This is Longbottom, he couldn’t Imperio his toad.”
“Blaise.”
“You’re really doing this, aren’t you? It’s not just a passing fancy of some sort either. Have you tried shagging it out of your system? Is that what you’re doing now?” Blaise paused thoughtfully. “No, that’s much more Draco’s speed than yours. ”
Theodore didn’t answer any of Blaise’s questions. “Did you want something or did you fancy just sitting in the fireplace all afternoon and staring at nothing?”
It was Blaise’s turn to pinch his nose, and after several moments he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. Have at it. I’ll do what I can to protect your secret.”
Theodore exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “Thank you.”
“Yes, well, you can thank me by not getting yourself killed.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Theodore said with a small smirk. “Anything else?”
Blaise looked confused for several seconds and then smiled. “Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot in all the insanity of you losing the plot -- I was after a bit of information.”
“Such as?”
“Terry Boot.”
Theodore blinked, and then his smirk began to enlarge. “Are you after a bit of information or a bit of something else?’ he asked shifting from one foot to another.
“Theodore Nott, are you implying that my motives might be questionable?”
“Blaise, I’ve known you since we were Promised, born, and then Un-promised because you weren’t a girl.”
“Who knew you couldn’t be betrothed to someone of the same gender?”
“You can according to the Kinsey Rule of 1969,” Theodore pointed out.
“Yes, but then there would be no heirs, and you know how important lineage is. My mum still curses Bathsheba’s Baby Gender-Generator to this day,” Blaise said ruefully.
Theodore shook his head. “She must be thrilled that you fancy girls and boys then."
Blaise snorted. "Indeed."
"What do you want with Terry Boot?”
“I’m not terribly sure yet,” Blaise answered honestly. “He’s quite fit though, and Professor Vector seems to think he’s the best Arithmancy student in our year.”
“Which you could be if you ever did your homework.”
Blaise made a dismissive wave of his hand. “Details. Anyway, have you got anything for me as far as he goes? Likes, dislikes, preferences, blackmail material? I know you had a dalliance at some point.”
“Hardly,” Theodore said. “Nothing really. Left-handed. Quite a good snogger. Terribly into Quidditch.”
Blaise made a face. “Bloody Quidditch strikes again.”
Theodore smiled. “You asked.”
“Yes, well, the fit ones always have something wrong with them, don’t they?”
Theodore’s smile grew larger.
Blaise smiled back. “Well, enough talk, go back to whatever unseemly behaviour you were up to.”
“I don’t know -“ Theodore began, but before he could formulate a proper response there was a tiny pop and Blaise was gone. All that remained was the faint smell of smoke.
Theodore took a few moments to compose himself and clear his throat. He’d been gone for quite some time, surely longer than three minutes. Or even five. Perhaps it would be best if he returned with an offering of some sort to placate Neville, not that he expected Neville to be out of sorts, surely he hadn’t been gone that long.
Nonetheless, a great many rows had been stemmed by biscuits and juice. He would need to summon Bippy -– except he’d sent the house elves off on a fool’s errand.
He would have to collect the food himself, and surely it couldn’t be that hard to prepare juice and chocolate biscuits. Taking a deep breath, he opened the sitting room doors, stepped into the hall... and heard his mother’s dulcet tones carrying on a conversation with someone.
This did not bode well in a house that should have been empty, and Theodore’s mind raced to think of possible explanations for his current shoeless state. If Alexandria were home early – that wasn’t possible, as he had been occupying the front room fireplace and Floo. She could have come in through the kitchen, but surely he would have heard her, and his father never traveled by kitchen Floo, which only left...
Neville.
Theodore froze in the entryway to the foyer and took in the scene before him.
His mother was standing by her desk, gazing down at Neville as though she found him quite engaging. Neville stood at the foot of the marble staircase, elbow on the rosewood railing; he was looking at Theodore’s mother’s portrait in the same manner that Theodore often did when she was indulging him on some trivial matter.
Perhaps he found the red amulet she wore as hypnotic as Theodore did.
Neville’s clothing was clean and he looked very fetching in the long sleeved white shirt he wore, plus there was color in his cheeks and he looked healthy and happy. There was nothing dour or tightly-wound about him. He didn’t scream breeding, but he presented himself well.
Except for being barefoot.
“Theodore, why didn’t you tell me we were having company?” Theodore blinked at his mother and tried to compose his thoughts as rapidly as possible.
This was not going as he’d planned. He wanted Neville to meet his mother under more controlled conditions -– or least when he could be there from the outset.
Being covert in one’s own home was extraordinarily taxing to the nerves, and Theodore looked at his mother with wide eyes. He didn’t do innocent terribly well, but it was unheard of him to be caught with his hand in the proverbial biscuit tin.
His mother’s gaze was piercing, but her tone was kind. “I wish I had known Neville was coming, I would have postponed my afternoon plans,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Mother, I didn’t mean to keep it -- him -- from you,” Theodore confessed.
“I try to take an interest in Theodore’s friends,” his mother explained as she turned back to Neville and smiled. “Especially those who possess such a great knowledge of Herbology. Theodore’s never been terribly interested in plants, but he often helped in the garden to humour me. Have you had a chance to see our gardens, dear?”
Theodore could feel the flush coming from somewhere, and he struggled to contain it as Neville glanced at him and then shook his head. “No, Mrs Nott.”
“That is a pity; you’ll have to come back in the spring and look at them, I think. Don’t you, Theodore?” The nod she made with her head was practically imperceptible, except to her family, and Theodore felt the tension in his shoulders release tenfold.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” he said.
Theodore’s mother nodded her head again, this time more noticeably. “Yes, as do I.”
The sentence was a simple answer, but to Theodore it was much more. He crossed the foyer to where Neville was and stood by his side.
“I would love to stay and chat,” his mother said producing her rosewood wand from somewhere and changing the color of her cloak from a deep blue to a mercury-silver, “but I really must get on before Uncle Reginald starts off for the dinner party without me. Neville, it was lovely to meet you and I hope to see you again; Theodore, please make certain your sister does all her French recitations.”
“I will,” Theodore said.
And with that his mother was gone.
Theodore couldn’t say how long he stared at the painting after she was gone, but it was some time before he detected that Neville was tugging gently on the sleeve of his shirt. “C’mon,” was all he said as he led Theodore back up the stairs to his room.
Theodore wasn’t the sort to spend his time day-dreaming or imagining a reality that would never come to pass, and yet he found himself slightly distracted as Neville closed the door of his bedroom behind them and sat down on the bed.
He had wanted Neville to meet his mother, and he could never have asked for a better initial meeting between them, and yet it grated that it had happened without any machinations on his part. It was a very natural interaction -– and very un-Slytherin, but Neville was a Gryffindor and his mother a Ravenclaw, so perhaps that was simply the order of things.
He felt rather dazed by the proceedings, and it was only when Neville started to remove his own clothing that Theodore focussed on the scene before him.
Neville Longbottom was taking off his clothing in Theodore’s room. In Nott Terrace. And there was no one around to bother them.
Theodore blinked and removed his own shirt with some haste, before dropping it on the floor -- somewhere in the world one of the Nott house elves was having a conniption.
Theodore strode across the room quickly, and he paused at the edge of his bed when he realised Neville’s fingers were shaking as he undid his jeans. “I can help you with that,” Theodore said, raising his eyebrow slightly in an effort to ease Neville’s tension.
Neville relaxed and stretched out on the length of Theodore’s bed, smiling. “Have at it.”
It was Theodore’s turn to suffer anxiety, and once again he fought the duvet cover for purchase as he climbed onto the bed and knelt between Neville’s legs. He would have to transfigure the silk into something less slippery for the next visit.
Neville twitched when Theodore’s fingers touched his bare chest, and he leaned forward slightly to tweak one Neville’s nipples. The bud tightened under Theodore’s fingers, and Neville’s resulting squeak wasn’t the most masculine sound ever, but it made them both laugh.
“Is there any reason I should be feeling this nervous?” Neville’s voice hitched as Theodore traced the left nipple with the tip of his finger and then the right one.
“I think that really depends on you.” Theodore counted Neville’s ribs as he slowly dragged his hands down Neville’s stomach. “Do you like it when I do this?”
Theodore traced Neville’s navel with his index finger.
“Yeah – yes,” Neville corrected.
“And what about this?”
Theodore spread the opening of Neville’s jeans and shifted until he was crouched over Neville’s groin. He glanced up at Neville to make sure he had his undivided attention before he licked a line from Neville’s navel down to the waistband of his Y-fronts.
“Yeeeessss.”
Theodore blinked before remembering that Neville was not a Parselmouth.
“Then I think we should be all right,” Theodore shifted back onto his haunches and hooked his fingers under the waistband of Neville’s jeans. “Lift.”
The clothing came off with a minimal amount of trouble, and Theodore rose onto his knees to adjust himself. Neville made another noise, and Theodore looked up and gave him a wicked grin. “One thing at a time,” he said.
Neville propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. “I’m not really keen on that idea,” he said.
Theodore’s grin slid into a smirk. “Oh, really?”
Theodore had noticed that Neville didn’t tend to move terribly fast unless he was motivated; clearly today he was motivated, because one moment Theodore was kneeling on his bed smirking, and the next Neville had grabbed him, pinned him and was doing extraordinarily interesting things to get him out of his trousers.
Theodore’s teeth snapped together when Neville palmed his dick through wool, and he almost bit off his tongue. How he would have explained that would have been truly an interesting thing to see, but instead he squirmed on the bed as Neville groped him.
Grabbing fists full of spiky hair, Theodore pulled Neville’s mouth towards his and kissed him hard. It wasn’t a particularly polite kiss, but it was hard and wet, and when Theodore slipped his tongue into Neville’s mouth he was all business.
A growl escaped the back of his throat when Neville pulled away, and he stared hard at Neville’s wet, red mouth as he said something that went right past Theodore’s ears.
Theodore wanted that mouth back on his and then he wanted it on his dick and then –- well, there was no need to put the carriage before the Thestral. Theodore reached out to pull Neville back and stopped when he discerned that Neville was trying to remove his trousers.
Batting Neville’s hands away, Theodore kicked his legs free with haste and his cock slapped wetly against his stomach as he tried to tug Neville back down. He missed the warm security of Neville’s body blanketing his. He frowned when Neville refused to budge.
“You weren’t wearing any pants.” Neville’s tone was matter-of-fact, but his eyes were huge, and Theodore made a dismissive gesture with his hands until he understood that Neville was staring at him as though he were something he'd never seen before.
It was Theodore’s turn to twitch when Neville ran his hand up the inside of Theodore’s left thigh. “Does it bother you that I’m not wearing any pants?” Theodore asked as he bent his knees and spread his legs. “It’s not as though you haven’t seen me naked before.”
His voice hitched as Neville’s fingers brushed the crease of his thigh and hip and skirted along his ribs. Theodore’s cock twitched on his stomach in disappointment, and their hands bumped against each other as Theodore reached down absently and squeezed himself.
Neville took a shuddering breath, and Theodore took advantage to roll them over so Neville was on his back.
“This is different,” Neville said as Theodore straddled his waist.
“Then we should probably take off your pants as well,” Theodore pointed out, hooking his fingers under the waistband and yanking meaningfully. Neville lifted his hips, and Theodore pulled the offending item off.
Neville’s dick was swollen and flushed, and the head was wet; Theodore licked his lips when Neville made another one of his noises. He shifted to his knees and noticed that Neville had a little scar on his shin that Theodore had never seen before. He stroked it lightly, chuckling when Neville grunted. There was also a scar high on Neville’s thigh that Theodore had only seen in bad lighting, and he touched that one too.
“Are you investigating my scars?” Neville asked.
“Does that bother you?”
“No,” Neville hesitated for a moment. “Am I supposed to be getting turned on by this?”
Theodore’s mouth went dry when Neville gave his own dick a tug. “It’s certainly working for me,” Theodore admitted, tracing the scar on Neville’s thigh with his fingernail.
There was another scar on Neville’s hip, but it was entirely too close to Neville’s cock for Theodore to take serious notice, and without any ceremony, he leaned forward and took the head of Neville’s cock into his mouth.
Neville arched up at this sudden movement and nearly knocked him off the bed. Theodore snorted and petted Neville’s thigh in an effort to calm him down, but judging by the grip Neville had on his duvet, it didn’t work terribly well.
Theodore made an obscene slurping sound as he went up and then back down. Gripping the shaft in his hand, he pulled off and rubbed the fold of foreskin over the head as he licked his lips thoughtfully. Neville always did taste rather salty, but not in an unpleasant way.
Neville’s eyes were closed tight, and Theodore turned his head slightly and nipped at Neville’s hip. “Pay attention,” he said when Neville’s eyes flew open.
He wasn’t prepared for the narrowed eyes or the lip licking. “My turn,” was all Neville said, before once again, Theodore was the one on his back.
Theodore was slightly disoriented by all the rolling around, but he committed himself admirably to being thoroughly kissed by Neville, and he let out a low moan when Neville wedged both his legs between Theodore’s thighs and began thrusting back and forth in a manner that couldn’t be construed as anything else but fucking.
Their cocks were trapped between their stomachs as they rubbed together, and Theodore had not planned on being the ‘shag-ee’; yet he wrapped his legs around Neville’s back and urged him on.
Neville hissed when Theodore nipped at the junction of his shoulder and neck, but he couldn’t really help himself, and he sucked at the bite mark instead of leaving well enough alone. With every thrust of Neville’s hips, Theodore sucked a bit harder until he began to feel dizzy from not breathing. That mark would require a Glamour of some sort before Neville left.
There was no penetration taking place, just lots of friction, and between the sweat and the pre-come and saliva, they were moving around in a slippery mess. Neville’s thighs were slapping against the back of Theodore’s thighs, and he was gasping against Theodore’s neck as Theodore held on.
Neville came first, and when he collapsed on top of him, Theodore worked a hand between their sticky bodies and brought himself off with a few deft strokes. His orgasm started in his groin and traveled to every part of his body, much like Firewhiskey or a potion, and as much as Theodore enjoyed having Neville on top, his lungs were being crushed.
He pushed and wriggled until he was out from under the pressure of a sweating, breathless Gryffindor, and he laughed when Neville turned his head and smiled at him.
“So, was this worth coming over for?” Theodore asked.
“You were,” said Neville.
Theodore blinked. He seemed to have misplaced his ability to speak.
Slytherins by nature were not clingy or overly emotional; they were passionate about certain things. Everyone was as far as Theodore’s social circle went, except for Draco Malfoy, who was emotionally unstable full stop. Draco was always an exception though, which was a thought for another time altogether -- and certainly not when Theodore was standing in the Nott kitchen and waiting for Neville Longbottom to depart.
Theodore had never noticed how long his own toes were, and he frowned and shook his head before looking back up. Neville fastened the toggles of his traveling cloak and ran his hand through his hair before stepping into Theodore’s personal space.
“I’ll see you next week?” Neville asked. His mouth was less swollen that it had been an hour ago, but his face was still flushed, and it turned darker when Theodore narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
“I’ll let you know when,” Theodore spoke against Neville’s mouth.
“I’d like that.”
Neville’s eyes fluttered shut, and he tilted his head, Theodore was just closing his eyes when there was a flash of light, and he stepped back. Grabbing Neville by his cloak he pushed him behind him, and coughed as he waited for the green smoke to clear.
“Theo! Theo!”
Theodore peered into the smoky air, but was still bowled over by his sister when she bounded out of the fireplace and threw her arms around his waist. “Back so soon?” he said, petting Alexandria on the top of her head.
“Dottie got Miss Alexandria lots of robes, yes, she did!” Theodore looked up and nodded his head as their house elf emerged from the fireplace only a few steps behind.
“Of course,” Theodore said. “Well, if you’re all done –“
“Who’s this?” Alexandria let go of Theodore and stepped back. He frowned when she cut him off mid-sentence.
“Alexandria,” he began.
“I’m sorry –- I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. Taking another step back, Alexandria gave Neville a small curtsey. “Hello.”
Theodore shook his head and stepped to the side to make a proper introduction. “This is a -- this is Neville. He and I attend Hogwarts together. Neville this is Alexandria, my sister. Alexandria, Neville.”
Neville smiled, and Alexandria gave Neville a very long apprising look before smiling back. “Do you like animals?”
Neville looked thoughtful for several moments. “I prefer plants, but I quite like some animals.”
“Would you like to see my zoo?”
“I’d like that very much,” Neville said, “but I don’t think I can today.”
Alexandria smile diminished, and Theodore opened his mouth, but Neville spoke first. “Perhaps I could come and see them another day.”
“I’d like that,” Alexandria was all smiles again, and Theodore nodded his head when she glanced at him. “Theo, can Neville come back?”
“If he wants,” said Theodore.
“I’d like that,” Neville replied.
Dottie had taken all this in with nary a word, but at another glance between Theodore and Neville she stepped forward. “Miss Alexandria Nott should be getting changed soon, yes?”
Theodore nodded. “We should let Neville get home,” he said.
Alexandria looked at Neville solemnly. “Of course. It was very nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said, nodding at Alexandria before stepping forward and taking a bit of Floo powder from the brass canister that Theodore gestured towards.
He glanced over his shoulder at Theodore as he tossed the powder in and green fire ignited; Theodore smiled back.
Neville said something, and then he was gone.
The worst thing about having Neville over to Nott Terrace was not that Theodore had been unable to keep the visit a secret, but that after having incorporated Neville into his life, Neville had then had to leave.
It was intolerable, and it made Theodore irritable.
A simple cleaning spell had taken care of the damp mess on his duvet, and they had both been barefoot most of the time, so there were no footprints left to cover over, but even though Neville was gone, his imprint was now all over the house. Theodore could smell Neville in his room, and he sat in his window seat, flipping through his Charms text trying to figure out if he really wanted to eradicate every last trace that Neville had ever been to see him.
A faint knock at the door jarred him, and the book slipped from his fingers. “Come in,” he said clearly.
The door swung open, and Alexandria’s freckled face appeared around the side of the door. She wore rose-coloured pajamas and house shoes, and her brown hair curled around her shoulders. She hadn’t yet had her growth spurt, but Theodore had every reason to believe she would be as tall as their mother.
“Mother’s not in her portrait and Father is in his study; I wanted someone to conjure me the story of Le Petit Sorcerer,” she announced. “Theo, will you read it to me?”
“If you like,” he said, crossing the room and removing his wand from his cupboard. He followed his sister back over to the bay window and waited until she had made herself comfortable.
“Right, now how does the story go again?” he asked as he prepared to conjure up the visuals for her
Alexandria frowned. “I’ve changed my mind, I want a different story now. I want the story about the prince and the other prince and the seven gnomes and the bad apple.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow. “Do I know that story?” he asked.
“You can make it up.”
“I can?”
“Of course you can.” Alexandria gave him a toothy smile. “Also? I like him.”
Theodore froze. “You like who?”
“Your friend.”
Theodore exhaled sharply through his nose and then crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. “I’m glad you like him, I want you to like him, but there’s something I need for you to understand. Father hasn’t met Neville, and ...”
Alexandria fixed him with big, brown eyes. “Who’s Neville?”
“The story of the princes and the gnomes and the bad apple you said?” Theodore repeated again.
“It should also have a dragon and a Pegasus.”
“Right.”
“And a heffalump.”
Theodore raised an eyebrow, but Alexandria was not to be dissuaded.
“Of course,” he said, returning her smirk.
She would make a fine Slytherin if it weren’t for that Squib business. Alexandria’s lack of magical ability was of no importance to Theodore since she was his sister, but he wasn’t terribly certain of the Hogwarts admissions policy where Squibs were concerned, and he had no intention of allowing his sister to be sent away to Beaubaxtons or Durmstrang. She wouldn’t be safe there, especially with Coming Events; she would have to stay where she could be protected.
Of course, family came first because loyalty was everything, but Theodore now had an additional problem. He now had other loyalties, and he wasn’t going to give up Neville either. He would make it work out so that he didn’t have to.
It wasn’t ambition – it was fact.
Notts protected their own.
-end-
Dedicated as always to those who make this possible with their unfailing encouragement:
dorrie6, ethrosdemon, fearlessdiva, lalejandra, plumsnickety (I told you, you’d get props!) and serialkarma.Special dedication to the relentless and lovely
circe_tigana for all her Theodore appreciation.Author’s Notes:
1. Frederico de Medici is the concept of
ethrosdemon.2. Longnottom is
phineasjones’s petname for the Theodore/Neville pairing.3. The role of Anora Nott is being played by Monica Bellucci. Also, ‘Anora’ is Latin for honor.
4. I think we’ve all been over the casting ground before, but I do have a new casting announcement to make: the role of Terry Boot will be played by Jamie Bell, who's um, grown up. A lot.
5. Title taken from the LP by Beulah.
6. Some people call them betas, I call them beaters (but only in the most adoring sense). I would be nowhere without their brilliance and constant WTF-is-that? Seriously, I couldn’t ask for better beaters, and all my base are belonging to
ethrosdemon lalejandra and serialkarma. Thank you, ladies. Remaining snafus are mine.
ETN: Dude, we are officially an interest now. That's love.
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