Draco had thus far not noticed any significant difference involved with being a student of Durmstrang Institute. He had been given a nominal rank, of course, but Evan had easily risen above his own. The school lacked the traditional structure of passing a year with the proper notes and moving on to the next year, so his having spent the better part of four years at Hogwarts did him no favors; the experience was considered nontransferable. No matter; I shall rise quickly enough. Before long, I shall contend with those of the highest ranks.

His concern was revenge. The defense team of Flora Carrow had indirectly helped him with a favor he owed her family, but out of a principle more naive than what the buffoons in Hufflepuff believed, or what the cleverer ones deliberately promoted. They were not blood purists, they were traitors to the wizarding world of the worst kind; they had kidnapped him and many of his vassals for the purpose of expelling them from Hogwarts, and succeeded. They gave no thought to whether it would effectively deter us or not, they refused to kill us, and in their insufferable naivety their plan worked, for all the good it will do them. I shall discover their secrets and make an example of them for anyone foolish enough to think them heroic.

Imprisonment had cost him any hold on the rumor mill that he might have had, and his vassals who remained loyal to him thought less of him for their collective failure. There are too many minds at the school, especially with the Tournament. I cannot simply sift through until I gain the information I need, whether in a crowded area or a secluded one. Longbottom is a waste. He learns much and remembers little, and his gullible nature calls the truth of his thoughts into question. If the mudblood or the blood traitors told him anything, they convinced him of a falsehood or he forgot.

The only real option remaining him was a regular investigation, meaning he would have to be close enough to one of them or someone who knew something to use Legilimency. Having had the idea to do something about them before, he had asked Longbottom if he ever saw their Hufflepuff in the Basement, and the same of Padma about the mudblood. There was no point in looking up a dark lion, as both of his previous searches came back with the same result. If they are away from the dormitories, they have found somewhere else to sleep. In the worst case, it would be a shrunken chest much like the one they used to imprison us. Draco was still uncertain as to how none of them had suffocated.

It had been Professor McGonagall who would announce the verdict, since the judges had work that had accumulated during the proceedings of the weekend. Her explanation had been simple and expected, as it had been rather plainly evident that Flora had committed no crime, when one simply perused the evidence. According to a Prefect close to Snape, the deliberations had also gone as expected. Madame Maxine had thought the measures the defendant took were disproportionate, more violent than the situation demanded, and if the injured students had any murderous intent, she would have had to attack first to have been completely uninjured. Wizards more concerned with the law might have explained that attacking first does not entirely invalidate the self-defense exception, as it might have been that she would have had to attack first to have survived, and the prosecution could not prove otherwise. As it happened, Snape and Karkaroff simply outvoted her.

"Snape thinks Karkaroff really only cares the defense demonstrated some knowledge of dark magic," the Prefect had explained. "Apart from that, they were the same, they just wanted the trial to be over, and the verdict they were going to choose was obvious from the beginning."

Professor McGonagall, however, speculated before the school that the prosecution might have presented a more effective case had they focused on relevant facts. I suppose she has to be speculating, then, if she's not lying outright. She would be if she knew how the deliberations went. He supposed that in truth, such a thing might be relevant in a regular court, but then in a regular court he would expect to find the same underlying political motivations. At least the trial was without the sudden objections or bizarre coincidences common in legal fiction.

He remembered to thank the Prefect for his information, and stated that he trusted it was accurate. No need to tell him I have a way of knowing for sure.

Thinking more on the trial as he worked his way through his first few classes under new teachers, he decided it would be perfectly possible to have the witnesses for the prosecution charged with perjury or at least expelled over it, since they had said she heard them talking and attacked, where her version of events held that they surrounded her and she attacked. If she ends up paying a fine for the use of dark magic- I believe Snape gets away with it under 'educational purposes', the least the school could do would be to punish all the minor crimes.

He scowled at his own failure to have Weasley or the mudblood charged with fraud, or possibly tampering with evidence, but at the very least Macmillan was out of action for a while as the teachers determined he was under an Unbreakable Vow, as opposed to a magical contract or an Imperius Curse. Either of the other options would have been useful in their own rights, but Nott and Davis had expressed an interest in the first and he let them have at it. They seem to think the Vow will serve to bind all future vassals to my will, or at least non-mutiny. While well-meant, this will make it impossible for me to recruit true Slytherins.

The plan had been a win either way, as long as Macmillan went to the stand, because his testimony would have either been accepted or the defense team would have suffered from the glaring contradictions in it. Essentially, the vassals had together thought of hundreds of questions he could potentially have been asked, and made him vow his answers to each of them, but there were still a nearly infinite amount of ways he could have been found to be lying, especially if Flora had said she had not seen him, though that was doubtful. A witch as clever as she would have said he might have been there, or he might not have. That she did not notice his presence does not mean he was not there.

At the end of the day he gathered the extent of his help at Durmstrang, Davis, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Derrick, Bole, and Bulstrode. All I have left in the castle is Parkinson, as well as some of Bole's minions. She may be able to reattach them to another Quidditch player, but we have not many left after those who sided with Umbridge were expelled. With the Tournament, there was no need to recruit new players from among the second-years, but some of the minions might have been trying to get in his good graces. He had elevated Crabbe and Goyle to a new status, but deliberately withheld vassal status for their contributory failure resulting in their collective capture.

The night was dark outside, but a magical lamp rested on a crate between them, its light dim and pleasing to the eye.

"Do we know what happened yet?" Derrick asked.

"There can be no explanation that does not involve the legal defense team of Flora Carrow," the Malfoy heir responded. "They told Longbottom where we were- they're the only other people who talk to him."

"They did not intend to kill us, then," Goyle decided, though it was obvious enough.

"No, out of the same hopeless ideals for which they would defend Flora. I do not believe they concerned themselves with pure blood disappearing, only dirtying their wands. They are not as many as the conspirators, but they have proven themselves capable and willing to act against both parties, rather than sit the fence as we have claimed. They may have intended to have us removed from the grounds, but they underestimated my ability to avoid trouble with our esteemed Headmaster." If any of them knew Legilimency I would be a dead wizard. "Most importantly, they have wronged us. For this reason, they are our primary target." I shall exclude that many of the objectives the Hufflepuffs and the faction in the Ministry work in the favor of the Death Eaters, that they believe they will use us as pawns to gain greater control, but the Dark Lord will prove them wrong.

"We could erase them from existence," Nott ventured. "They are only four, and alone it would be all the easier. Hogwarts would be forced to close, and our enemies would scatter in fear and disorder. If we choose a strategic hour, we would be away before anyone realized it had been we."

"It seems like the thing to do," Bulstrode decided. "We have been wronged."

"It seems appropriate," Draco decided. "Their foolish mercy is not to be rewarded, nor would it count in the proper calculations. The death of a single pure blood is equivalent to the death of two half bloods, though they vary in quantum despite the name. Perhaps it would be a shame to end the Abbott line, but without a male heir, it ended in effect with the father's death- and I doubt the Weasley family will be extinguished any time soon."

A genuine laugh came from those who would not soon receive a disappointed glare.

"We could use the Vow again, if we wish to distance ourselves," Davis offered. "Longbottom may not have outlived his use yet."

"Longbottom would know he is helping us if he tells Parkinson what he knows and he lacks the skill to kill anyone," Crabbe argued. "We would be better served by using a personal enemy and more likely to get away with it. It would be pretty hard to get a few Hufflepuffs, but the school might believe it was real."

I might have pointed it out myself, but some amount of practice thinking could hardly be harmful for my henchmen. I had expected him to mention that our rotund contact has proven remotely loyal, or at least not traitorous, or even his ineligibility as a sacrifice due to his blood status. It is imperative to the future of the magical world that he takes a wife and produces heirs, the more the better.

"Should we use the witnesses for the prosecution, then?" Derrick asked.

"Their punishment will come when they are convicted of perjury," Davis decided, possibly out of a desire to redeem herself. I suppose no one likes being corrected by Crabbe. All the same, I shall hear her out. "The prosecution themselves, however, have committed no crime, except to accuse a Slytherin of a crime she did not commit. I contend that any amount of Beauxbatons students and Hufflepuffs would be sufficient, though we would do well to include the prosecutors in their numbers." I expect it will be chosen by convenience in any case. We have but two among us who can perform an Unbreakable Vow, and only a few others. Conservatively, it would take two to capture one, and that assumes that we can find them on their own.

"It will have to be a crime of opportunity," he decided, making all eyes turn. "If we have any intent to employ our unwilling servants at the same time, we shall have to store them, and the method that our captors used will prove perfectly sufficient. That Nott managed to pick up the charm in a timely manner continues to prove itself worth the while. It almost makes me glad I was there to see Goldstein throwing books into a bottomless chest.

His thoughts turned to the dark red curse mark that he continued to bear, but they turned away.

"Who will be assigned to catching them?" Bole asked. He thinks of his minions.

"Everyone not necessary to ensure Evan's victory in the Third Task." He had won by a considerable margin in the first, but in the second he had not even finished, meaning the result would be determined by the final event. As opposed to the previous strategy of telling no one anything, the teachers seemed to change their idea of what the Task would be with the passing hour. That the Heir of Slytherin was not present with them spoke audibly about his displeasure with Draco and his failure that had resulted in their capture. Karkaroff, according to Evan, had been deeply concerned about his disappearance, but redirected his annoyance to Snape after it was discovered that they were not, as it happened, off muggle-baiting and might very well have died of starvation. Fitting, he used to be a Death Eater, and if it is as I believe, and the Dark Lord has taken his place, Evan is almost certainly aware and yet I have not heard it from his lips. It would seem to me that our friend has invented the reaction of his Headmaster under the assumption I do not know his true identity.

As his vassals worked out who would aid their Champion among themselves, with Crabbe and Goyle automatically sorted into the other contingent, the Malfoy heir frowned internally. For the Heir to lie to him, or withhold critical information, whether under orders or otherwise, his loyalties would have to lie with the Voldemort himself. I should have expected as much. What can I offer Evan that the Dark Lord does not have himself? Perhaps I helped him in a time of need, but the same can be said of the man who showed him to the train, or near enough. In any event, he will likely have no further need of my aid, and as such will be unwilling to be a vassal. The very idea sounded presumptuous already.

He excused himself, telling the others he would see if the Headmaster knew anything about the next task, and if he would be willing to tell them. The others cannot know that the man they believe to be Karkaroff is someone else entirely. Their ability to respond to such a thing is untested at best, and in the worst case they would use the information against me.

Draco was nervous as he approached the captain's quarters, noting a pair of guards blocking his way. He almost wished it would serve as an excuse to turn back, and he realized he was apprehensive, having never not seen the Dark Lord in person since he possessed Quirinus Quirrell. A quick check with Legilimency determined the password, which he muttered before they questioned how he knew it.

"Thirty one October, nineteen eighty one."

As the guards moved, he decided he would not attempt the mind arts with whomever he found inside, as it would likely be all he could do to maintain his mental shields.

"Good day, sir," he started without preamble.

"How do you know the password?" the Headmaster asked without looking up.

"What else would it be, my lord?" As he spoke he felt his finger bone rotating on its joint, struggling not to scream. "I used... the mind arts-"

"There are other ways of extracting information, Malfoy. They are a touch more barbaric, but I had hoped your aunt Bellatrix would have some influence, unconfined as she is." The younger wizard did not react. His aunt had hardly been the only escapee from the ruin of Azkaban, and was not the only subject of his thoughts, nor did she seem especially interested in finding him. I can only guess at where she is, though I would suspect her to return to the Dark Lord as quickly as possible- Amycus would tell her of his location, if my suspicion is correct and he knows.

"I have not seen her, nor has she contacted me," he explained truthfully, waving his wand over his hand and wincing. Bulstrode knows a few healing spells; no idea why she decided to go into that. "Have we any idea what the Third Task-"

"I care nothing for the Triwizard Tournament. Old heroes will be forgotten when I and my chosen few bring about the new age." The dark wizard cast a single eye in his direction. "The gold is even less relevant to me than it is to you and yours, Malfoy. Did you know I was of low birth? Your father was born with all the fortunes in the world, no one truly noteworthy in his lineage, but a sufficient pedigree to impress old Nott if memory serves. You have goblins count your galleons and manage your investments, only because we yet stand on the precipice of the great flood of gold that I may unleash at a whim. With ease could I make a ruin of the great banks and financiers as I flooded the streets with their all-precious metal, or perhaps I should simply buy every business in Britain before anyone notices? There are even goblins who would take care of it all for me."

The Dark Lord wore a wistful expression for a moment.

"Well-"

"And yet, it does not interest me." Draco choked, and he might have spat an 'I beg your pardon', but the Lord Voldemort simply continued. "Have you any idea what I am, Malfoy? Do you know my chosen path?" The older wizard rose as he spoke. "Selwyn seemed to think of me as a general, and he as much gave me the rank, though military matters are not my calling; I desire bloodshed as little as I fear it. Your lord father saw me as a king, or he said he did. Only a pitiful fool ever accurately guessed my chosen path, perhaps because it was similar to his own, twisted and gnarled though it turned for him. Perhaps, for this reason, you have a chance."

"You are an academic, my lord."

Night on the ship was dark and the way was long with no guide to take him back, and yet such was the chosen path of Draco Malfoy, he reminded himself as he spat a measure of blood from biting his tongue. Where he was going, no wizard had gone, and there would be no one to warn him if he strayed into the infinite depths and darkness.