May 2, 1998

In the wee hours of the morning, it was dark and ominously quiet in the clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Theo had taken his place in the circle of Death Eaters, standing between his father and Lucius Malfoy. Lucius looked how Theo felt - terrified and defeated. Draco's Sober-Up Potion had done its job all too well, and the warmth and confidence generated by Firewhiskey had disappeared. Despite the fire crackling in the middle of the circle, Theo shivered.

"Stay still, boy," Charlus Nott whispered, a faint thread of sound. If you know what's good for you was left unsaid, but Theo understood his father's words were a combined warning and threat. He squared his shoulders and stood still, as though Petrified, watching the Dark Lord out of the corner of his eye.

Dolohov and Yaxley, who had ventured into the forest to search for Potter, returned empty-handed. Voldemort looked up from his unnaturally spindly hands at their arrival, red eyes gleaming.

"No sign of him, my Lord," Dolohov cringed, clearly expecting the Dark Lord to shoot - or Crucio - the messenger. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight, as Voldemort clenched his palm around his bone-white wand, the color within a shade or two of his pale fingers.

"My Lord - " Bellatrix began, in reverent tones, as though addressing a god.

Voldemort merely raised a hand and she fell silent.

"I expected Potter to come," the Dark Lord mused, speaking to the flames.

To be honest, so had Theo. He did not know Potter well, had never had the sort of poisonous rivalry with him that Draco did, but the so-called Chosen One seemed like exactly the stupid sort to give himself up based on an enemy's worthless promise.

"I was, it seems . . . mistaken," the Dark Lord hissed in a menacing fashion.

Theo wondered, abstractly, which Death Eater would pay for that mistake with his life. He almost wished it would be him. Looking around the silent ring of his fellow Death Eaters, who all were either miserable or mad or both, Theo now realized that he would lose no matter who won. Azkaban or service to the Dark Lord - it was a toss-up as to which was worse.

"You weren't mistaken," said Harry Potter.

Theo's eyes darted to the edge of the firelight, where Potter stood, his wand tucked into his pocket. Bloody idiot, Theo thought. His sharp eyes saw a smooth, dark object drop from Potter's hand onto the forest floor as the Death Eaters cheered and jeered.

"Show how excited you are," his father commanded, with a bony finger poking Theo's ribcage. Theo let out a few obligatory whoops.

"Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived." The Dark Lord cocked his head to one side, looking at the dark-haired boy with curiosity. He raised his wand. "No longer."

Theo, standing by in silent observation with the rest of the Death Eaters, marveled that Potter could meet those red eyes without flinching.

"Avada Kedavra!" A sickly green jet of light from the Dark Lord's wand hit Potter squarely in the chest. The teen collapsed, face-down in the grass, like a puppet whose strings had been severed.

Before any cheering could break out, the Dark Lord swayed where he stood and fell to the ground. Bellatrix ran forward to assist him, followed by a few other members of his inner circle, Theo's father among them. As a junior Death Eater, Theo felt no obligation to join them. Lucius Malfoy also stayed behind, a very faint expression of hope flitting across his face.

"My lord," Bellatrix crooned, over and over. "My lord."

Theo's father, more practical, Transfigured a rock into a pillow and placed it beneath the Dark Lord's head. Rookwood took the liberty of feeling for a pulse.

"My lord," Bellatrix repeated, bereft as he remained unresponsive.

"That will do," Voldemort warned them off, in a weak but icy tone. Undeterred, Bellatrix continued to kneel beside him as the other Death Eaters prudently returned to their places.

"The boy - is he dead?" Voldemort inquired.

When no one answered, he hit Narcissa Malfoy in the cheek with a hex. Theo did not recognize it, but her skin blistered immediately as she bit back a shriek of pain.

"You," the Dark Lord ordered her, as though she were the meanest of servants, rather than a daughter of the House of Black and wife to the wealthiest wizard in magical Great Britain. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

With Theo and every other Death Eater watching, Narcissa scurried to Potter's side, one hand over her injured cheek. She knelt over the apparently dead boy, her other hand on his chest to check for a heartbeat and her long hair shielding Potter's face. Then she sat back with a slight frown and took Potter's wand from his pocket. Theo remembered that she was wandless, having given her own wand to Draco after Potter disarmed him at Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa used Potter's wand - really Draco's - to conjure a mirror. Theo caught an extra whisper of sound after the words to the spell, but he could not make out her words. Bending over Potter again, Narcissa held the mirror to his mouth. She presented its unfogged surface to Voldemort. "He is dead!" she called out.

As the Death Eaters yelled and screamed in joy, Narcissa straightened and returned to her place next to Lucius, the wand still clutched in her hand. Theo kept a smirk pasted on his face as the Dark Lord cast the Cruciactus Curse on Potter's corpse and tossed it into the air like a rag doll.

"Now we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero," Voldemort sneered. "Who shall drag the body?"

Theo hoped he would not be chosen, as he had no desire to handle any corpse, especially that of Harry Potter.

The Dark Lord laughed, softly. "Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. He will be nice and visible in your arms. Now move," he ordered.

Hagrid stumbled through the tears in his eyes as Death Eaters surrounded him, front and back, and began retracing their route to Hogwarts Castle in a triumphant procession.

Theo lingered in the clearing, deliberately dropping his wand in a facsimile of an over-exuberant celebration so that he could scrabble on the ground where Potter had dropped something. Theo did not know precisely what it was, only that he wanted it.

Retrieving his wand, he cast a Lumos and found a large, black pebble nearly under his fingertips. Theo could make out a circle, bisected by a line and enclosed in a triangle. The stone was flawed, with an irregular crack down the middle, but Theo thought it could be fixed by magic. He decided that he would keep it and maybe have it set into a ring. With that resolved, Theo dropped the pebble in his pocket and left the clearing at a trot, catching up with the last of the Death Eaters.

"Where were you, Theo?" his father asked. With Harry Potter dead, the ever-cautious Charlus, a solicitor by training, had dared to pull off his mask. The question was a suspicious one, not a mere idle query.

In a case like this, with a parent who knew Legilemency, Theo had long since learned it was best to stay as close as possible to the truth. "I thought Potter dropped something, and I stayed behind to look for it. There are rumors he has an Invisibility Cloak."

Charlus looked intrigued. "Did you find it?"

"No, I didn't find the cloak," Theo said, with real regret. Such a thing would be incredibly useful.

"Too bad," his father stated. Before he could question Theo further about whether he had found anything and, if so, what had he found, the Death Eaters halted at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort gloated, his voice magically enhanced to reach every nook and cranny within Hogwarts Castle. "He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him."

Theo suppressed a wince at the lie as the Dark Lord continued his speech. Potter had been many things Theo deplored - reckless, rash, cocky, a Gryffindor and a half-blood - but he had been anything but a coward.

" . . . Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters, will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together," Voldemort concluded.

Theo kept his expression carefully blank. It would not do to allow his blatant skepticism for this supposed brave new world to show on his face.

The Dark Lord gestured for his troops to move forward, towards to silent castle. "Now, we go and accept their surrender," he said.

Theo's blank facade cracked, just a bit, and one skeptical eyebrow rose. Somehow, he did not think victory would come that easy.

A/N: Some of the dialogue is quoted directly from DH.