Draco had been watching the Task with relative interest, but he knew it was of no great significance. The champions had been tasked with going through each his own maze, a circular logical puzzle that confounded them at every turn. Rather than shadow the Pitch with darkness and deprive the spectators, someone had come up with the idea of blinding them, though they had been told it was simply dark as a tomb. I had assumed Evan would puzzle it out, though I suppose that for them it makes no difference.

One of them, probably Fleur, had tried early on to use a light charm, but found it perfectly ineffective. I suppose it would be if Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder were involved. Knowing Evan, that was what he assumed. The Heir of Slytherin had conjured a snake and levitated it above the walls of the maze. How fitting. The greatest cleverness, from time to time, lies in the simplest solutions. The Hufflepuff wizard of no known distinction attempted to summon a broom to fly to the other end of the maze, but this only presented more problems. A live gryphon screeched from its perch in the hedge maze, forcing the champion to avoid it, only to run into a living vine of some sort rising from the maze. Longbottom might be able to identify that one. At least now we know why broomsticks are tacitly permitted.

The French champion seemed to be having difficulty with the maze itself, mostly because it changed quickly and she could not see, making it more and more difficult to keep a map of it in her head, if that was her intent. The task is to get through the maze as though a brain in a vat. Somewhere Evan was frustrated in his discovery the maze walls were resistant to fire charms, growing back immediately. The Malfoy heir assumed that the snake would inform him of better ways to go.

Goyle, to his right, had been stationed to watch out for threats while Crabbe had been asked to simply watch the crowd and speak up if he saw anything unusual, confusing, or otherwise of interest. Draco had thought to clarify that something confusing would be something that would confuse even him, as opposed to either of his henchmen. Consequently, it came as a moderate surprise when Crabbe pointed to the officials' box.

"Seems to be something going on, but I can't say what it is."

"All well and good, get a bit closer and find out." If it's something important I'll be able to hear him with the mind arts.

In a sense his henchmen had become extra eyes and ears, though they had to stay within a certain range, which was alright with them. For once Longbottom was somewhat less useful than either of them, being too forgetful to use as a spy long term. Out of frustration, he had even tested the wizard's ability to remember with Legilimency, and his concerns were validated.

Now what I need to do is address my concerns.

For days, perhaps weeks, his vassals had been itching for proper vengeance, and it had been a shame for many of them that the trial would interrupt their plans, with Davis even leaving over his unwillingness to drop Flora's case to pursue her defense team. I should have expected dissent in the ranks, though I imagined it would be Derrick. Bole needs me, as I deflect those who pursue the punishment of his minions. He is soon to leave Hogwarts, and they will either attach themselves to another Quidditch player, Evan, or me.

Crabbe found something, though he was too far away for Draco to ascertain what.

"Goyle, watch the match," he ordered quickly as he went after his other henchman, wand at the ready. I can never be too careful. Our intelligence, namely Bole's second-years, has determined the more likely target of Hufflepuff ire to be the defense team, but enough of them would not resist the opportunity to kill a blood purist. Most of them would not use dark magic, he knew, but it would be bad enough to be blasted out of the stands. His amulet beat against his heart as he neared his destination, reminding him of the unfortunate habit of forgetting to wear it he had developed in the middle of the year.

He stayed out of view of the box as he close his eyes and listened for Crabbe's surface thoughts, which he understood to be the wizard's only thoughts.

Crouch was speaking, a moderate surprise. He had not deigned to say much since the Tournament began.

"I have had enough with your pleas, I have no use for pleas, no use for sentiment, no use for aught but swift justice for the scourge of this school, the civilized world, and common decency. For your part, be aware that effective immediately, the Ministry is seizing control of Hogwarts from its leadership, leaving it to the discretion of the governors and the Office of Magical Education. Resources containing information on dark magic will be destroyed, and its use punished with extreme prejudice."

He heard objections from the box, but he cast sparks in the air, drawing attention to himself from others in the stands. Crabbe, keep your eyes on the box.

The fault is mine and I shall do better.

"Faculty found to be in association with dark magic will be removed from their positions and investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the results of the investigation will directly determine an appropriate punishment. The students have no use for dark magic or blood purism, which will likewise be erased from the library, the staff, and the students who do not comply with the new order."

Goyle was tapping on Draco's shoulder.

"What?" he asked, keeping his voice level.

"Evan just won."

"All well and good- rally the vassals to my position- they'll know you didn't think of it yourself."

He assumed the henchman disappeared as he closed his eyes again.

"Hogwarts has a long-standing contract with the Ministry of Magic, being the older institution." It was Professor McGonagall's voice. I suppose there would be room for her- it isn't as if the other heads have deputies. "For one party to renege on the agreement, it would have no hold or authority over the other, and a new contract would have to be drawn to change the terms. Already, however, I expect you have no intention of doing so. I expect you intend to enact the same myopic policies you attempted during the last war, and the cooler heads you called cowardly will have lost their positions. All of our discussion, with the exception of Headmistress Maxime's insistence that we concern ourselves with the dementors, has been entirely pointless, as you have precisely no authority to enact the changes you wish."

"That is where you err," Crouch returned. "I knew from the beginning of this Tournament that the results would spark an international incident, precisely what the Minister had been hoping to avoid after the greatest Secrecy violation in history- committed by your predecessor no less. His decision to acknowledge the return of Voldemort came at the worst possible time, his recognition of the Kyanzittha government in Burma has resulted in a mountain of skulls, and the International Confederation of Wizards, including the leader Babajide Akingbade himself, has issued a request for his resignation."

It was not the first Draco was hearing of old Fudge's troubles, and it was doubtful that he would survive a vote of no confidence, but neither he nor his father had expected a coup. He'll be pleased to learn that all of this is according to the Dark Lord's plan. His mind returned to the time 'Karkaroff' told him the results of the Tournament mattered little, as they would serve his ends under all circumstances, and his only intent behind entering Evan was to force him to practice and study, as well as familiarize himself with an environment where people were trying to kill him.

I have heard enough of the conversation, and I need to have my vassals about me if I intend to unite the House of Slytherin. As his eyes scanned the crowd and picked up Parkinson and Nott, as well as one of the Beaters, he heard Crouch making a revised version of his announcement, by all appearances uniting the House of Hufflepuff in sympathy.

I could kill him. It will be years before anyone is this close again. He shook his head, disregarding the notion as soon as it came. The Lord Voldemort himself clearly meant for the Department Head to live, and Draco had better sense than to defy his will in front of him. We should concern ourselves with uniting and escaping. The moment Fudge learns of this speech, he is almost certain to resign. I do not even require my father to know the old fool cannot abide criticism.

Paying no attention to what the other students were doing, what they had of the vassals assembled, more expected to join them as they moved. Nott threw down a container of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder as Crabbe knocked out a nearby sixth-year for watching them. The darkness could hardly be expected to cover the whole Pitch or even the stands, but the sun was setting and it would provide the advantage they needed to retrieve Evan. He could reasonably protest that he hardly needs the protection, but he hardly needs the gold, so at worst it's all the same.

Having looked around the stands as they made their way down to the grass, the thought crossed his mind that even the Dark Lord would not survive if it came to a duel between him and everyone who wished him dead, and though his list was far longer, Evan's grew by the minute. He's less of a threat, but that means there are more who think they can kill him.

The defeated champions were still on the Pitch when the vassals arrived, both of them less than concerned with Evan, looking instead to their own schools and making some effort to calm down the screaming crowds. The French students had united to some sort of chant he could not quite make out, as a conjecture he might have said they were calling it unfair, as Delacour was using the word 'juste' frequently.

"How did the match go?" Draco asked as they lead the Durmstrang champion to the stands, noticing only then that he was carrying the head of a cockatrice.

"I won."

"I heard," he responded quickly, heading to the stands of their own school. "I was watching Crouch- apparently he means to take over the school when he becomes Minister."

"We have our own."

"We have a school, yes, and one we shall enjoy more than the former, yet the current situation on this island is not to be discounted entirely. Dark wizards from distant lands have been watching the conflict carefully, and they are correct to view Britain as the tipping point. If she is lost, the whole world will follow."

The Heir answered with only a scowl as they found the others. He turned to Parkinson.

"You will remain at Hogwarts and continue to serve as my vassal and my contact whilst I am abroad."

It was everyone else's turn to look at her. He could already hear the words coming out of her mouth. How could I say no?

"It would be an honor. To be the sole contact of someone in the good graces of the Dark Lord himself, well-reputed among the Death Eaters..." she trailed off, perhaps hoping for some form of confirmation that his standing with his betters in any way resembled what he had implied, the exact opposite of the truth.

She would not receive it, but if she held disappointment in her heart, she gave no sign.

"There are students here who can provide you with a glamour ring- I think Brdzola might have mentioned a Polish witch-"

"Get it to her by Owl Post," Derrick decided. "I have feeling this term's letting out early." He pointed at a demonstration going on in the Beauxbatons stands, the familiar spellfire of dark magic among the students. The Auror Corps will be here any moment- Crouch probably had them on standby, Merlin knows he still has friends in the Department.

"It is time for the dark wizards and witches among us to aid our brethren," Draco started, Nott's wand to his neck as he addressed the crowd of Durmstrang students. Davis might even join in for this- where is she now? "Already the great House of Slytherin moves to reach the side of the French sympathizers-" I placed Bole in their numbers for good reason. When he rises, the minions rise, and the die is cast.

To his surprise, the response was mostly silence, though the bolder among those who could speak English laughed.

"What do we concern ourselves with your conflicts?"

"The war for magic transcends nationality and language-" he started back, remembering Evan was something of an outsider in the school.

"We have no loyalty to the Lord Voldemort," an older student called, somewhat more respectfully. "Perhaps there are dark wizards among us, but is he the one to lead?"

"Have you loyalty to the school?" he asked reflexively, remembering too late that he was meant to keep the Headmaster's identity a secret. "Durmstrang Institute has altered the academic resources to match those of the Death Eaters." Some muttering could be heard. They noticed- all the better- "Those who have been following the Headmaster's ex officio remarks on the Tournament and international cooperation understand that his goals are very much aligned with the Dark Lord, and he was once a Death Eater himself. Thus far he has served his master under the table, and he has served well. Had he done anything else, we would have thrown him in front of a train."

The statement seemed to take effect. It was not as if every student was entirely loyal to the head of the school, less so the real Igor Karkaroff, but there was a respect that was due.

"Might be working," Derrick whispered. "Goyle is among the Slytherins- it'll be Bole in the lead, though." I expect the Ravenclaws on our side and the dark lions will be taking their leave when the moment presents itself. Our French allies have fewer choices available.

"United we present a force greater than any that could be mustered by the other two schools, fewer than half of Hogwarts would rise against all of us, and fewer still of Beauxbatons- they will know they need to strike quickly to keep us from rallying, and strike our allies they will-"

He smirked internally as a forceful shout came from the stands, the students rising. The world seemed to pause, perhaps because he willed it.

Fear.

There is only one motivator that can stand against all others, twisting them and turning them on each other. Let lesser wizards raise their armies with talk of goodwill, talk of future peace, and let them watch as they break ranks before the threat. Gervaise Malfoy who beheaded his men for desertion, as suits his name and heritage of necessary force and fear. These were things we always understood, in the dark of the dragon trenches and the mountains of the rune meisters.

The only way out is through.

"Let us rally! Show them our combined magic!"

As the Durmstrang students willing to join the vassals rose, he scanned the other stands. A sizable amount of the Gryffindors were on the pitch with the Hufflepuffs, isolating those unwilling to participate. For them, I suppose that's clever enough. As Draco and his followers made it to the ground level, the sounds of broomsticks sweeping through the sky could be heard.

"Shield charms!" he ordered. "The idea is to minimize French casualties, not make ourselves out to be the aggressors- the world is watching, let them see who is a threat to magic and who would defend it." He doubted many of them were blood purists, but one had to find a purpose for the dark magic one wished to practice, and the other side would not allow it. They should count themselves lucky they have foreign wands- many of the Hogwarts students are already under the Edict.

The agreement to his order registered, but with as little enthusiasm as expected. Bloodthirst is easily cured by blood. The conspirators in the lesser Houses and regrettably even a few Slytherins talk of violence, but their first taste of it will be metallic and cold. Suffering is the price of remaining human, else being lost in the dark.

As they surfaced from the base of the Durmstrang tower, their shield charms were mostly protecting them from bombardment from above. Confused shouting seemed to ask who it was in different languages, but there were no answers to be had. Looking through one of the clearer shields, some spells were coming from the flying Aurors and Hit Wizards, though some of it was longer range and less accurate, from the black and yellow tower opposite them. Damn Hufflepuffs- they waited for the authorities to fire on us so they could pick the same target. Some amount of long-distance shield charms were making it to the Beauxbatons tower, though it was difficult to ascertain who was being aided.

"Non-lethal!" someone called, likely hoping to just quell the conflict before it became more confusing. The Aurors were breaking their shields, but the sleeping charms and body-bind curses were reaching the French students, if less than accurately.

"Fall back- we've done what was necessary!" Draco called, maintaining his Occlumency as a weekend Legilimens tried to break his mental shields. The Prophet will rip us to shreds tomorrow, but the students will know the truth. Ours was no unprovoked assault. Having read the news only once or twice in the last week, he wondered if the paper continued to try to appear impartial, but he doubted it was a major concern. The editor, he knew from his father, was required to submit each headline, from the front page to the last, to the Minister's office, meaning it was being read by whoever replaced Umbridge.

Impartiality, however, was a raw deal for the truth that its guardians would only accept while not in control of the press. When, at long last, the Death Eaters were in control of the Ministry, they would not long entertain the notion of reforming the press that it would be fair and receive all positions with neutrality. A Prophet under blood purists would print only the truth, starting with the muggle threat. In their numbers, there were those like Gibbon who believed that the truth would naturally percolate, and there was no need to enforce its exclusive publication, but the time for coming to the correct conclusion had already passed. Those who could, having seen the evidence, realize that the muggles and 'their' children were a security issue, already had, and they already fought with the Death Eaters. All others were either opposing ideologues serving the destruction of the wizarding world or braindead fence-sitters, content to hesitate and avoid the issue until it came knocking on their doors.

"What now?" Bulstrode asked behind him, breaking the silence, as the last of them were back in the stands, crowding at the lowest level.

"Malfoy, what are our orders?" Nott started. "Already the Ministry's wands have put us to flight-"

"They will quell the dueling for now," Draco answered. "Healers will have to respond to anyone injured. As soon as Crouch's appointment to Minister goes through, they will be our enemies. Our allies will need a way out." This is not the place and time for the war to begin. This is where the lines will be drawn.

"Do you think he'll really get the job?" Parkinson asked. "His numbers from the beginning of the Tournament-"

"It's not a popular election, so the numbers are suppressed," Crabbe answered. I should have left him closer to the Dark Lord. He might have heard something valuable. "My dad says they started it back in seventy three or something, because they didn't want assassins to know who the picks were."

"In their own country, the dark French may be safe for a moment, but the disease Crouch is spreading will arrive there soon enough," Draco explained, returning to the point. "Sorting them out will be no challenge, but we shall need to send them home as soon as possible, and the Headmistress will have enough reason for haste." He turned to the Durmstrang students. "The time for choosing sides is come."