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Persistence	By : stacygalore Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make money from writing this story.

Chapter List
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�Persistence�

By Stacy Galore

Thanks:

This is the first multi-chapter fic I�ve ever managed to
complete in a long line of unfinished works-in-progress. I have these people to
thank for that. For their
encouragement, creative input, and editing, much love goes out to Jenniffer,
Megan, Daniel, and Jenni. Funny
how three out of the four role-play Draco on Twitter, eh? For their inspiration, @DracoTMalfoy,
@NottTheodore, @SlashyDraco, and @Draco_licious. Follow them on Twitter. For the music that inspires us all: Portishead, Suede,
Placebo, The Cure, Split Seven Ways, Malfoy Manor, and Zoe�s Adventures
Underground.

This is the first story in a series of Draco/Theodore fics. I'm writing the second one, "Persistence of Memory" right now. See how the Draco/Theodore relationship develops (or not) here: http://hp.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600025091
Credits:

Jenniffer must be credited for the idea of Theodore and
Draco fencing. I can�t remember
who came up with the idea behind Theodore�s mother�s death first, Daniel or I,
so I�ll just credit Daniel to be safe.

�Persistence� is dedicated to the chain-smoking introvert
sitting in the darkened corner of the caf�.

Chapter 1: �Infliction�

Theodore Nott has a scar.

A silvery white scar running horizontally along his left
side, a few centimeters below his last rib. In the years after it was inflicted, it stretched with his
skin and faded as he grew, but never disappeared, much like the memory that
accompanied the scar.

Soon after the shallow but painful cut was inflicted,
Theodore tried to charm away the mark by himself. He was only fourteen-years-old, and not proficient enough at
medical spells to effectively erase the damage, let alone heal it
properly. In doing so, he probably
contributed to the permanence of the mark. He didn�t dare ask Gran or Father to fix it, unwilling to
reveal how he got the cut in the first place.

He received the cut while fencing with Malfoy. The fact that they were sparring wasn�t
an issue, for the boys had been pitted against each other for years. The reason that Theodore let his guard
down in the first place was what made the scar potentially damning.

Malfoy bested Theodore in many things deemed important by
the majority of the wealthy, prominent, (shallow) pure-blooded wizards their
age. Both were quite aware of this
and understood their place in the Slytherin social circle, with Malfoy at its
epicenter and Theodore planted stubbornly outside of it with his back turned in
silent protest. Why serve as
Malfoy�s right-hand man when he could be his own man? Draco was marginally better looking, though his cockiness
somehow increased his appeal to the opposite sex by ten-fold. He was more agile on his broom than
Theodore, who had a terrible fear of heights and no interest in quidditch
anyway. Malfoy was slier than
Theodore. He could lie through his
teeth artfully and get away with things Theodore wouldn�t dare do on his own
(though Theodore was occasionally a reluctant accomplice.)

These characteristics mattered little to Theodore. He prided himself in the few ways that
he was actually superior to Malfoy.
Theodore�s father encouraged these characteristics to flourish and was
quick to point them out to Draco�s father at every opportunity. If Theodore ever gave anybody so much
as a hint of doubt that he was indeed the cleverest boy of their age, his
father would beat it out of him – not with his hands, but with his brutal
words, which were just as hurtful.
And if Theodore ever lost a fencing match to Malfoy, well� he didn�t
want to even think about what his father would do to him. Draco was a fair match at fencing, but
not quick enough to beat Theodore.

There was only one time that Malfoy was able to gain ground
upon Theodore enough to cut through his defenses. It was not an unusual match at Malfoy Manor, that summer
before their fifth year of Hogwarts.
The fact that nobody was watching had little effect on the ferocity with
which they competed against each other.
Theodore was reveling in his ability to stand his ground easily while
Malfoy was struggling to advance upon him. He enjoyed watching the pale boy flush with frustration and
added to his aggravation by carrying on a conversation during their sparring as
casually as if they�d been sitting down, Malfoy barely able to sputter out
answers.

�You know what your problem is, Malfoy?� Theodore asked,
with a patronizing inflection to his haughty voice as he swished his sabre
elegantly around Malfoy�s. �Do you
know why you can never beat me?�

�Because you�re a slippery motherfucker.� Malfoy huffed and jabbed forward with
his sabre, a flustered sneer on his sweaty face.

Theodore knocked the point of Malfoy�s sabre away as if he
were absent-mindedly flicking a mildly bothersome fly. He continued his
analysis as if the other boy hadn�t interjected with anything. �You try too hard. You focus too much on beating me when
you should be focusing on landing your mark.�

Theodore�s foil whipped across Malfoy�s cheek, scratching
the thickly cast protection charm, marking his pallid skin with a bright green
line indicating a valid touch was made. �And frankly, your aggravation makes it
way too easy and too enjoyable to beat you.�

Draco halted play and stood glaring at the other boy, his
white-blond fringe fell over one side of his face, rendering his expression to
one of feral rage – silver eyes seething with pent-up frustration, teeth
clenched with spite. �Want to know
what I think, Nott?� he spat.

�No, but I have a feeling you�re going to tell me anyway,�
Theodore sighed, not bothering to look at Malfoy as he superfluously cleaned
the length of his sabre with a cloth.

�I think that if you were in a real duel without protective
enchantments you�d shit yourself before you could get your sabre out, let alone
your wand,� Malfoy drawled arrogantly.

Theodore continued to run the cloth over the sharp foil,
keeping his eyes down so as not to reveal that Draco had indeed hit his
mark. Theodore was confident in
his skills as a fencer, though the idea of real combat frightened him. More of a self-preservationist than
even Malfoy, he was always one to run from confrontation if it threatened to
become physical. A duel of words? No problem. But add hexes or, Merlin forbid, weapons into the equation,
and Theodore was not too proud to hide under a table. Chalk it up to a traumatic childhood as the son of a Death
Eater or blame it on an over-protective grandmother, but he�d never admit to
being a coward.

He shrugged, feigning indifference. �I�d never be stupid enough to find
myself in that situation, so it�s irrelevant.� He returned to a dueling stance and asked with a slightly
irritated sigh, �En garde?� indicating that he wanted to continue the match as
if Malfoy hadn�t issued an indirect challenge.

Draco mirrored his dueling stance, glaring at him with a
malicious smirk. �Let�s do this like real men. No protective charms, no scoring spells. We�ll know if we make a valid touch
when somebody bleeds.�

Theodore swallowed hard, the adrenaline-tinged metallic
taste of fear on his tongue. He
kept his expression blank, lest he show any signs of uncertainty. He knew if he refused a challenge,
especially one involving fencing, he�d never hear the end of it. The news would no doubt find it�s way
back to his father. �Fine. Have it your way. But I think we both know you�ll run
crying to your mummy when I make you bleed.�

Malfoy waved his wand, taking down the enchantments, then pointed
his foil at Theodore sneering, �En garde, bitch.�

Theodore excelled at sabre fencing because it required a
mastery of footwork. He was as
good with his feet on the ground as Malfoy was in the air on a broom, if not
better. He danced across the floor
towards Malfoy, swishing the weapon gracefully, doing his best to discount the
potential of bloodshed.
Distraction always worked well against the other boy, so he employed it
as he would any other match.

�I really shouldn�t be doing this. Your mother will have my head when she sees her precious boy
marked up with cuts,� Theodore mused, already hearing Narcissa Malfoy�s
horrified shriek in his head.

It was clear that Malfoy found it difficult to talk whilst
waving his sabre around frantically.
�At least� I have� a mother.�

Theodore�s sabre slashed through the sleeve of Malfoy�s
fencing robes, deep enough to cut the white fabric, but not enough to scrape
his skin. Malfoy�s words, however,
cut deeply. �I would expect you to
use that line with Potter, but you�re an impudent little shit for using it with
me.� His brow creased as his eyes
narrowed, unable to hide his emotional injury.

Malfoy smirked and flitted forward with his sabre. �Hit a
nerve, have I?�

Theodore evaded his parry, still glaring at him.

Whereas Lilly Potter�s death was one of modern folklore and
legend, the death of Esperanza Nott was shrouded in mystery. The only people who knew exactly what
happened were the people that witnessed it, including Theodore. When he was five, a group of masked
Death Eaters entered their home.
Theodore hid beneath the furniture and watched with utter horror as his
mother was interrogated, tortured, and raped, supposedly for her treason
against The Dark Lord and his followers.
They left her for dead on the drawing room floor. At the time, Theodore didn�t know who
was behind those masks. As he became more exposed to them over the years, he
would later identify them. Amongst them were his father and Lucius Malfoy. Hours later, as he helplessly lay curled
up around her on the floor, he felt his mother slip away. The incident was covered up and
reported as an unfortunate result of a brutal burglary.

Malfoy knew.
Theodore told him the story when Malfoy first began speaking about his
aspiration to serve the Dark Lord.
He had hoped the truth would remove the glamour of being a Death Eater
and would dissuade Draco from joining their ranks. Of course, Malfoy didn�t want to believe it and attributed
the made-up story to Theodore�s supposed jealousy. Theodore suspected that Draco secretly believed it and was
no doubt horrified by the fact that his father was involved.

�You bloody well know it,� said Theodore, �I can�t believe
you�d say such a thing considering the information you�re privy to.�

�I know you�re a liar,� Malfoy hissed as he stepped forward,
gaining upon Theodore as their sabers clashed.

Theodore was livid and on the verge of angry tears as he
batted away Draco�s weapon. �Why
would I lie about such a thing?� As he began to lose composure, his opponent
found it easier to whittle down his defenses, as indicated by the ease with
which Malfoy was speaking.

�Because you don�t want to face the truth that your mum was
a slut. She slept around on your
dad and he had her killed.�

Theodore went sickeningly white with shock as his world
seemed to come to a grinding halt.
Everything stopped.
Everything, that is, except for Malfoy who took the opportunity to
deliver a slashing blow to Theodore�s side, slicing through both fabric and
pale skin. Theodore glanced down
to the place where Malfoy�s sabre had met his body and saw his own blood
decorating his white fencing robes in stark contrast. He didn�t feel it, too numb from the trauma of Draco�s
accusation. He watched his weapon
fall from his limp hand. The
clattering sound of it hitting the stone floor barely registered in his
head. His eyes looked blankly at a
nondescript point in the distance, possibly at the blond boy in front of him,
but he was too stunned to focus.

It very well might have been true. The realization hit him like a brick in the head. It was emotional over-load. Questions began to flood his mind as if
Draco�s words had broken a dam.
How could his father just watch idly while this happened and then lie
about it later to the Ministry?
What were the Death Eaters actually interrogating his mother about? He faintly remembered them badgering
her about the identity of an offending party and the frequency of the offenses,
to which she finally replied under much duress, �It was only once and it was
one of us.� That seemed to set
them all off. It could have meant
anything. Still, Draco�s accusation
could easily fit.

Theodore hadn�t realized Malfoy was striding up to him and
advancing towards his face with a smug grin until his hot breath was already
upon his cheek. �You see, Nott, I�m privy to a lot more information than even you.�

This was enough to snap Theodore back into the present. Just as fast as the color drained from
his face, did it return to flush his countenance with rage. He turned on Malfoy swiftly, knocking
him to the ground with fists clenched into the front of his shirt, his sabre
dropping in the process. Theodore
pinned the other boy down with the weight of his own body and impaled him with
an ice-blue glare. He bit his
trembling bottom lip, struggling to collect himself enough to form words, but
his thoughts could not converge into a coherent sentence. So he lay silently atop Malfoy,
breathing erratically and shivering with anger.

�If you�re not going to hit me, I suggest you get the fuck
off of me, unless you�re keen on proving to me how much like your mother you
really are.� Malfoy smirked. It was the most infuriating smirk he�d
ever regarded Theodore with.
Behind it was a knowing gleam.
Maybe Malfoy was privy to more
information, not just about the circumstances of Esperanza Nott�s death, but
about Theodore himself.

�What?� was all Theodore managed to choke out.

Malfoy drawled irritatingly, �Are you going deaf, Nott?�

Theodore stuttered, �I d-d-don�t understand what you�re
playing at, Malfoy.�

�Perhaps you�re not as clever as you think?�

Then the inconceivable happened. Malfoy�s arms reached up around Theodore�s back and folded
over his neck, fingers gently raking through his dark hair. The other boy stared up at him with an
astute glimmer in his silver eyes.

�I watch you, Theodore. I know you. Better than you know yourself. And I recognize desire as easily as my
own reflection.�

Malfoy was now trailing a hand down Theodore�s spine. �You want what you can�t have.�

His other hand, still laced in Theodore�s hair, was easing
his head down, slowly closing the gap between their faces. �The question is, are you going to be
like your mother and take what you want anyway? Regardless of social protocol or consequences?�

Malfoy cocked his head to the side, preventing the collision
of their noses, as his face drew nearer.
�Or are you going to be a pussy, like always?�

The other boy�s parted lips were so close that Theodore
could feel the warmth of Malfoy�s breath on his mouth. His heart was pounding so hard he could
hear the whooshing sound of his blood coursing through his ears. All that blood in his head was rushing
somewhere much further south, making him dizzy. He felt a twitch within his trousers and quickly rolled off
of him, completely surprised at how cruelly his own body had deceived him. �You�re daft, Malfoy,� he said, voice
still shaking.

Theodore stood up quickly and nearly fell back down again
from the dizziness elicited by the sudden change in altitude of his head. That�s when the pain of the cut hit
him. He clutched at it and hunched
forward, croaking, �Fuck!� He was
covered with blood.

Draco too was painted crimson with Theodore�s blood, posing
with a self-satisfied grin and a hand resting cockily on his hip. �That, my friend, was most definitely a
valid touch.�

�Touche,� Theodore muttered before storming out of the room.
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Persistence