where – outside the finnigan-thomas residence.
who – @theoddores
He’s not doing this for Theodore, in all truth. For his parents, perhaps, as he does feel an inkling of loyalty towards them –– as a customer, mostly, but still. He looks at the boy – not a man, not by far – for a moment as they stand on the curb, clad in dark robes, faces hidden by masks. “You do the honours,” he says, nodding his head towards the house. This is a test, that is all. Diomedes has no big motivation to be here besides seeing how far Theo is willing to go to proof his loyalty, though he supposes that setting the Finnigan-Thomas home ablaze is a nice bonus.
He inclines his head back to Theodore, grabs his own wand. “Perhaps stay away from using Fiendfyre, though, unless you know how to handle it. A simple fire spell ought to do the trick.” It’s such a simple task, so little he’s asking of him, truly, and he watches the folds in Theo’s face carefully to see if he’ll reveal anything. Hesitation. Cruelty. Something. “Come on, Theodore. It’s not that bad. Things can be repaired, replaced –– but they ought to be warned, don’t you think?”
It wasn’t often that Theodore Burke was brought along on missions. Mostly delegated to aiding his father in the business side of the Death Eaters, exploring all the seedy connections the Burkes had built up over generations, Theo was mostly seen in action in big things. Diagon Alley. And it had been a shit-show from start to end, so he was shocked when he was informed that he’d be going with Diomedes, of all people - not a young Death Eater like him, delegated to the simple tasks. Theodore Burke was a child - there in replacement of his parents when they couldn’t be present, always next to them, Merrick Burke nudging him to speak. For the first time he felt like he was being treated just like any other Death Eater. Get your shit, we’re comitting war crimes, let’s go. Had he finally done it? Theodore listened in silence, eyes stuck on the house, hand in wand beneath his robe so the shaking could not be seen. What had changed? Were they done with his lack of use? Perhaps they were finally seeing if there was anything that young Burke could contribute to the cause. Perhaps it was just his paranoia kicking in. Perhaps they suspected something.
“Yeah, I’m no good with that.” A lie. He’d learned quickly to hide from most members of the group his knowledge in curses and such, not reflected in his infamous laughable Hogwarts results and certainly not shown within the narrative of empty-headed Burke. He’d rather keep it that way, despite the personal insult. “Certainly.” When had Dio become so comfortable with it all? Had he ever had a time when he wasn’t? Theo opened his mouth to ask but decided to keep it in instead - no more looking up to the masked man. Even if it was in search of something to quiet his morals and his shaky hand. “Is it empty?” What a silly question. He bit his lip in regret. “Can’t get a warning if you’re a crisp, I mean.”