Regency in Diagon Alley [Theodore Nott | Harry Potter AU]

Chapter Thirty-Six

"You said Dumbledore gave you this, why?"

Lying in bed, Theodore raised the ruby against the light of the fire. His dark eyes studying every rough cut on the stone, the blood-like color that it illuminated when light passed through, and the symbol that was carved on the surface. Late in the night, after another, short and much needed, love making, he noticed the stone that sat on Carina's bedside and asked about how she got it.

Bringing the blanket to her chest, Carina placed her head on his scarred chest and said, "He said something like it belonged to us – something we left when we were children. I was going to give it to you that day but... I got distracted."

He snorted and teasingly brushed his hand on her breasts, "Distracted? I'll take that as a compliment."

"So, it's not yours?"

"No, and if it was, I wasn't going to leave something as valuable as this in that bloody castle," he ran a thumb across the symbol. "It's a Philosopher's Stone."

She paused for a moment, her mind racing at the fact that she simply put that stone between her bosom for safe keeping, and then recklessly threw it on the side table like it was a marble they would play when they were children. A Philosopher's Stone, she thought. She was keeping a Philosopher's Stone between her breasts!

"You're joking," she mustered up to say.

"No, I'm not – see that?" He pointed at the surface. "It's jagged inside and out; rubies are smooth like glass and aren't easily scratched. Look at this," he placed the stone against the fire-lamp. "The marks of the cut, and there's also the issue with the mark on it." His brows furrowed as he dug his brain for where he saw it. "It's an Alchemist Circle, used for transmutation – like lead to gold. But it has something odd on it too..."

"While you figure it out, I still can't believe I was carrying the Philosopher's Stone between my breasts," she said.

"How lucky of them to be kept in a very lovely place." Theodore teased, laughing in the process. "It's every man's dream to be cushioned by a woman's breast – and a stone beat me to it." They both laughed. "To be honest, I'm quite jealous of it." Carina punched his shoulder for it.

"You think it's Roman's?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Do you think Roman would have something like this?"

"You'll never know."

"Nicola Flamel," he began, pronunciation the name in it perfect French origin. "Has a small circle of friends – including which are Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, a Muggle, and an American witch named Eulalie Hicks. Most likely, he one of them a small stone from his life's work, and I doubt he would give it to the Muggle."

"So, it's Dumbledore's then."

"You'll never know – you'd be surprised, maybe it belongs to Scamander. Aren't you related to him?"

Carina took the stone, admiring it. "Not by blood – well, his son and grandchildren are... Porpentina Goldstein is my fifth cousin or something. Or was it seventh..."

"Cousin is enough," He took the stone, threw it towards his trousers and magically slipped in the pocket. Carina grinned at the trick.

"I knew you were cheating when we had that contest to see which among us was the marksman." She laid on top of him. The feeling of her chest pressed against him made him groan but he hid it with a hum as an answer to her accusation. "Get some sleep." She whispered.

"How can I when you're lying on top of me?"

Leaning to kiss him one last time before their day ended, Carina giggled when she felt him pressed against her again. "Sleep," she told him.