As his eyes skimmed the morning’s headline, the cup of tea in his hand clattered to the table, breaking off its handle and spattering its hot contents all over him. Nathaniel jumped up in a combination of emotions as he hastily tried to pat himself dry, mind still reeling from what he had just read.

Minister’s daughter a werewolf. It had been there in bold, black letters, a slap in the face to a man that shared that condition. His first reaction, after surprise, was guilt—but no, he would know if he had gotten out during the nights of the full moon. His family, now all aware of his affliction, would have too.

How many people like him lived in secrecy, worried they might hurt someone, kill someone, or have their deepest shame become known?

One less now, it would seem.

Wide-eyed, he stared at the newspaper before him, now splattered with tea, trying to come to terms with what this meant—could mean—for himself, for his family. Merlin help the poor girl whose life was now over.

Theodore was not particularly a morning person. He had still dragged himself downstairs in time for breakfast with the family, as usual, though he was yawning all the way through his eggs, and not paying much attention to anyone else.

He tended to wait his turn to read the paper, or just slide out the quidditch pages when their father was finished with them, and leave the rest to when he was more awake. That said, it had been the newspaper his father had been looking at, before Theo had glanced up at shattering china and splashing tea. He craned his neck, but his sister was closer and had already taken the newspaper: he couldn't see a thing. Instead, his eyes, once he had shuffled the now-empty teacup and its broken handle out of the way of further accidents, lingered on his father's expression of utter shock.

Cee had started talking, but she hadn't read out the headline, had only turned to their father too, and Theodore's mind was careening furiously towards the worst kind of theories of what might be today's news. "Wait, what?" Theodore asked with a furrowed brow, confused and alarmed. "What's happened?" He had a hand outstretched across the table, trying to snag the front page from Cee's grasp, but it would be easier if someone would just explain aloud.

“No,” he responded emphatically, aghast at the notion. It was not that Nathaniel did not think the beast capable of it, but his wife and children would most surely be aware if he had escaped in the night. It was, perhaps, the one good thing that had come of his family finding out his secret: three extra sets of eyes upon him, scrutinizing his precautions to ensure nothing went awry.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, relieved, at the very least, to have the offending paper taken from him. His head was roaring, making him oblivious to his son’s confusion.

“You know her, don’t you, Cecily? This Miss Urquart? Is she the one in your house, or is that her sister?” The one who was in her house, Thaniel corrected himself mentally. There was no way the child could return to Hogwarts now.

There was enough information batted between Cee and their father for Theodore to patch together some idea of what was going on - that it involved Miss Urquart, that it didn't have anything to do with Father - and that alone ought to have made it clear what had happened, but it was not until he had snatched the newspaper at last that the headline struck it home.

"Oh, no," Theodore breathed, scanning the rest of the article feverishly, trying to catch up. Merlin. It was tragic and terrible but the wave of that didn't hit him until after the relief that it couldn't be their father to blame, he couldn't have been the one roaming Irvingly - someone would have noticed if he'd gotten out.

Cecily was probably right, too, that she was a sweet girl; undeserving (who wasn't, of that fate?). She was too young for Theo to have really known her from Hogwarts, but as far as he could recall, she had been in Ravenclaw, in their own house. "What'll happen to her?" He said out loud, stunned; though perhaps not so much as his father.

He knew well enough what it would happen to her on the next full moon, in body - they'd all seen that around this table. But Miss Urquart's situation was also profoundly different - their father had always avoided one facet of his condition - because this time, everyone knew.

Silently, she watched daughter and father banter which was kind of nice especially when she remembered what happened earlier in the summer. Though like Theodore, she had become curious on what they were talking about at the mention of Minister Urquart’s daughter. She then gave her copy of the daily prophet a glance and her heart dropped at the news.

It was already awful that the girl was cursed with the lycanthropy but for it to be broadcast to the whole community, it was too much. Poor girl. “I doubt that Headmaster Black would allow her back at Hogwarts,” And the girl was doomed to be judged by majority of society as a beast.  “What do you think will the Minister do?” she asked.

“Resign, if he has any sense,” Nathaniel answered his wife bluntly. “The world is a cruel place for werewolves once they are found out. Miss Urquart will be no exception.”

For werewolves, and those closest to them, he knew as a werewolf himself. Those were words he had thought better left unspoken. No doubt each person at the table was aware of the danger he brought them simply be remaining under the same roof; he did not want to emphasize that fact, not with this latest round of news.

“The poor girl,” he added more softly this time, more to himself than to his family. It was a fate that no one deserved, least of all a child who had never even been given the opportunity to wrong anyone.

Theodore grew quiet as the conversation continued, bouncing about the family in a way that only cemented all the harsh realities of the situation at once.

It was still a little bit strange that they were all talking about this so openly. It was Cecily's comment that shook him the most, saw his memory jolt back to years ago and the night he'd found out about his father. “They might not have meant to be out loose that night,” he remarked distantly, not meaning to defend the girl’s attacker - or the idea that werewolves roaming free was ever a good thing - but too vividly conscious of the time their father had unwillingly transformed out in the forest to say nothing.

He’d heard the werewolf capture unit talking, before, offhand conversations in the elevators and mentions of their assignments in Ministry memos. On the one hand, Cee was right that it was a shame - it was awful - and so one could say they were doing good work... on the other, it was hard to separate their job from the fact that they could, one day, track down some kind of evidence that led right back to this household. And just like their father had said, there was nothing good for a werewolf to come of being found out.

“But I suppose the ones roaming free are the ones most likely to get caught.”

“And they deserve it,” Nathaniel remarked quietly but emphatically. He had only been caught out of sorts three times. Twice he had revealed his secret to his children as a result, but mercifully they had not been harmed. Once he had stolen away a young woman’s future, for which he would never forgive himself. Nathaniel had no sympathy for those who willingly risked the safety and well-being of others. After all, it had been one such individual who had infected him.