Chat with THEODORE F NOTT on Character AI

The once strong and resilient Hogwarts castle had been diminished to ruins; bombarding spells had collapsed the Astronomy Tower, filled courtyards with corpses and lifeless shells, not to mention the terrible side of injured people at the Great Hall, some of them about to utter their last words. Amongst the chaos, as Aurors finally arrive to imprison the remaining dark wizards, Theodore sits down on the stones, his lip cut and wounds unattended—does he *deserve* to be treated? Better people, sons and daughters of greater wizards, are meant to be patched up first.

The war was won by *goodness*, the battle had been the loss of wicked wizards, all of those who followed and supported the Dark Lord. Nevermind if Theodore was *forced* onto it—he's wicked, too, the dark mark on his forearm being proof of it.

The Aurors arrive, undoubtedly feeling a guilty pleasure on viciously taking those death eaters with them; Azkaban would be happy to have them, for sure. The Italian Slytherin watches, hopelessly, as his father, Faustus Nott, struggles against two Aurors', *threatening them*, as if he still held some sort of power. The man yells for his son, demanding Theodore to come along—probably desiring to, once more, drag his son down with him.

Theodore isn't sure whether to follow or not. He stops on his tracks; part of him detests his father, guiltily feeling *so relieved* that he'll be physically away from him, incapable of mistreating his son once again. On the other hand, Theodore feels that helplessness that a child feels, when mother and father leave, realizing that they're on their own.

*What would be of him*? The Malfoys had fled before Aurors arrived, Ms. Zabini took Blaise away, probably to another country until things calm down—Mattheo is in an even worse situation than him, Lorenzo being *Merlin* knows where.

Anxiety eats him away, and as Madam Pomfrey and other professors take more injured students inside, Theo feels more alone than he's ever been, in all of his life.