Staring down at a silver mask as the pain of the magical brand still twinged in his arm, the thought crossed his mind that this day had been a long time coming.
They say all things have their season, don't they?
Draco had finally taken a turn of being respected by the Death Eaters. Desperate risk after desperate risk had finally proven to be a better strategy than keeping his head down and waiting. In the past two days, his vassals had mostly gone back to school, though he had gone with Nott to visit his father under orders from the Dark Lord. They had already seen Jervis Mulciber, who clapped him on the back and told him he had a chance to be 'a regular Death Eater', like Avery or himself. He knew better than to show a lack of respect for the wizard's late friend, but he intended to be a great deal more significant than either of them.
The night they arrived at the Turkish hotel where Nott's father had been talking with diplomats, they did little more than collapse on their beds, but the following morning was more interesting. They had breakfast with Travers, who happened to be visiting from the Maghreb, where he was up to something fundamentally similar. He told them about giving the African dark wizards sample vials of the Elixir of Life, which they hoped to understand better, as a token of their appreciation for being so cooperative in their earlier dealings. Perhaps the Lord Voldemort has an invented title, and he is no true blood purism, but he seems to understand the generosity that befits a noble.
"How go your talks with the Turks?" Travers asked. "I understand you find them to be reasonable."
"Reasonable, yes. They can be reasoned with, quite like a boggart or a rabid dire wolf. I'm dead certain some sort of reason motivates their actions." It was an evasive response if Draco had ever heard one, but all around the table kept eating as though he had answered the question in a satisfactory manner. Not before Merlin comes again would I spoil my first chance to enjoy a proper breakfast just to interrupt a pointless conversation.
After Avery had granted him his mask and mark in Greece, he told the man about a few things he found suspicious regarding the liberation at Nurmengard before crossing the Bosporus by portkey. This time last year, we were meant to have had an international Floo Network with all the allies of purism and dark magic. I suppose mine own efforts prove that the Dark Lord's plans can on occasion work, if I continue to have no idea what end result was intended.
The Death Eaters in various countries swearing their animosity toward Grindelwald was to be expected, since it was better not to look like they were allies, and they had the excuse that the old warlock opposed Secrecy, with it being a central tenet of blood purism. Now all that remains to be seen is how the Lord Voldemort does not intend for this maneuver to cost us our anonymity with the muggles, as we have been claiming it will.
"Was it entirely a coincidence you came to visit us?" Nott asked, his father seeming to want to know the answer as well. Travers shook his head before swallowing.
"It was no more a coincidence that I came to visit you than that you and Draco came here to visit your father. Ordinarily, the Dark Lord himself handles Death Eater appointment, but he has recently made a statement to the effect that we are more concerned with that tradition than he is. As it turns out, he is quite capable of using the mind arts to convey a dark mark onto new recruits through any of his existing servants."
As Travers spoke it seemed the older man was growing more concerned. He must know what is coming. His son would have told him about what happened.
"Why was it, then, that our master asked Avery to be an instrument?" Nott asked. "Was he otherwise occupied?"
Draco resisted the urge to chuckle. Odd that you should call him 'our' master.
"The Dark Lord, you will find, is quite confident in his magical abilities," the visiting Death Eater answered. "Whenever any one of his servants is present, I would recommend you act as if he is present himself."
"Of course."
"Perhaps it would be easiest to explain this way, young master," Travers supposed. He's enjoying himself. "You had a rather strange vision the moment before your friend was appointed, no? Perhaps you could tell us about it."
"I was... it was as if I were standing before the Lord Voldemort in a dark room. There was a strange, hunching wizard with him, who was insisting that he had to be away again, that it had been to long and surely he would be noticed...Addressing me, he said that I had disobeyed Malfoy, I had lied, I had angered him and proven myself disloyal. Humbly I confess I was quite at a loss as to how to interpret this."
"Under the circumstances, I would suggest interpreting it quite literally," Draco started. "I know that your actions led to Bole's death." I tire of this game. "The vision you had was not a trick of the Dark Lord, but mine. I formed a link with him through Avery and projected into your mind."
"Malfoy- I used Bole's death to achieve our goal of freeing Grindelwald- without a distraction, someone to direct the guards away- unbecoming as it is to denigrate the ability of the vassals and their leader- we would not have had any hope of success- had I known they would kill him rather than stun him for questioning-"
Travers silenced Nott rather than let him continue to embarrass himself. The boy's father could not have had an expression of greater gravity or deeper hopelessness. I should explain my grievance before he starts groveling as well.
"Had there been a necessity to sacrifice one of our men to achieve the goal of the Dark Lord, we would have swallowed the death and moved on with our plans. Deaths are not uncommon in our ventures. What I do not tolerate is my subordinates lying to me. I believe you sacrificed Bole because you believed he was of a lower rank than you, because his network of younger students could be reclaimed, and because with fewer vassals, each survivor would gain in distinction." He decided to omit that a bit of intelligence Nott had provided earlier, that the prison would contain a thousand other prisoners, turned out to be incorrect.
I doubt there was any ill intent to the mission itself.
"It is customary to allow the offender to speak in his own defense," the old wizard said, lifting the silencing charm. "You believed it to be necessary to sacrifice one of your fellow vassals," he prompted. Nott stared at his father with wide eyes before responding.
"I was under no delusion a smattering of boys could invade a heavily guarded prison with no casualties, and whether or not any formal ranking indicated as such, I was indeed above Bole in being trusted and having proven myself trustworthy. Perhaps we could have escaped without a sacrifice, but there was no certainty of that. As far back as the memory of man remembereth not, deaths have been necessary in war, and it slipped my mind to notify any other vassal of my decision before they returned to school. I confess, in my human nature, I felt an irrational guilt in my choice of sacrifice."
"Your reasons are not satisfactory," Travers decided. "While the vassal lost is not of consequence to the Dark Lord, his death will be treated as a wrongful spill of pure blood, and your father will administer your punishment." He stood. "Draco, with me. I have a visit with your own father that can be delayed no longer."
If his intention had been to cut off any objection from the Nott family, the measures he took were unnecessary. Both allowed them to leave in complete silence. Well enough. I do not tolerate traitors, and can be content with any punishment that suitably deters them. He took a look back as the Death Eater readied the portkey. I do wonder what the punishment will be, though.
They arrived in the magical part of Arles, a small, quaint wizarding community not unlike some of the ones he had seen in Britain. It seemed none of the blue-robed government officials were paying attention to them, but if he understood the situation correctly, the lower levels of law enforcement were simply filled with blood purists. They would do well not to welcome dark wizards, especially those from across the Channel, but they would look the other way. If only they knew how many connections my father already has here. Our friends in Francophonic Africa have been making life interesting for them.
They entered a small salon where the Lord Malfoy acknowledged their appearance while talking with a rather large wizard with a red, smoking potion before him. There was a witch who appeared to just be recording the meeting, but even her expression revealed she was more interested in it than that. Draco had a suspicion she was much younger than she appeared.
"Your predictions regarding the developments in the French West continue to astound with their accuracy," the wizard said, praising his father. "Is this your son? I have heard a little about him."
"Yes, unfortunately, much of what you heard is likely false. I have a bit of a laugh with the boy every time some new tale is spun about a post to which he appointed himself, or some task he gave himself." I cannot remember one time you laughed outside of being polite with the werewolves. It was easy enough to see what his father was doing, however, and he would go along with it.
"I believe there was one about a... battle? At Hogwarts?"
"More than one, actually, though as you might expect there are at least three different versions of every story. I truly could not imagine which one you heard, but the ones I have heard have the common thread of making my son out to be a comical blunderer, an amusing notion as it could not be further from the truth."
"I see," the large wizard said. "Good to meet you, Draco."
"The pleasure is all mine," he responded, using a brush of Legilimency to supplement his understanding of French. He could say most things without such aids, but from time to time he missed a word and it helped to be able to translate it on the spot. Who is the witch, Father? She has an odd sense of incredulity.
Her expression says as much, yes. Address her as Madame Delacour.
Might our thoughts be intercepted?
It would be better to assume as much.
"What were your predictions, father?"
"Oh, only that in its ignorance, the magical government of Burkina Faso would venture far from its territory to attack a smattering of dark wizards, making the Secrecy issue worse than it already was. Pay it no mind, truly, little of consequence comes from that continent." The wizard across from him inhaled the fumes coming off the potion. "This one, however, proved to have the very manner of interesting developments that I anticipated. The conference of the great city of Ys led to some transformative developments."
"Oh?" the witch asked. "I had not been under the impression you were invited at any point."
"Invited, no, but well-connected, Madame. I met with quite a few people who had been in attendance and it was all to easy to have them talking about it. As I heard, the representatives from the island of my birth intend to create a legal precedent for hunting down terrorist sympathizers in the continent; something stronger than an extradition treaty. They brought with them a witch from the Department of Mysteries with a grand design for an artefact that would magically unify all the lands of Europe, that an enemy to one was an enemy to all."
"Precisely how would that work, father?" Draco asked.
"The extent of the detail described a binding magical contract, which I presume would be tied to government offices rather than people," his father answered. "I truly pity whatever dark wizards wander around in Europe. There could be nothing worse for them." I should have destroyed that old goblet when I had the chance... anything that can move Evan around the map like that is a weapon too powerful for the Ministry to possess.
"Indeed," Madame Delacour said. "I should think that with Grindelwald running amok in the south, there would be no end to the sympathy for such measures."
The young Slytherin wanted to swear under his breath. Not only did he commit the worst Secrecy violation since Dumbledore destroyed the moon, he had only reinforced the advantages Crouch's government could press in controlling the continent as well. If his father had not been allowed into the conference at Ys, they were turning away people on the suspicion of being a Death Eater, meaning the Dark Lord had no way of knowing that the release of his old hero would spell disaster for their operations anywhere in Europe. Perhaps Africa or the Americas would be safe, for a time, but when they lost their home, no one would listen to them anymore. He found himself longing for the state of the world under Cornelius Fudge of all people, where they lived in stately manors in Britain, not on borrowed time in foreign lands. His father would not show it, of course, but there was no way he was not feeling the pressure.
How is the Dark Lord planning to use the distraction Grindelwald affords? Though it seemed Voldemort respected him the smallest measure more than he had, he did not want to be the one to tell him that time was running out to disrupt the plans of the Ministry. The forces of blood purism had lost an incalculable amount of ground already, and if the proposal went through, they would lose the rest.
"Is there any news from your home, Lucius?" the wizard with the potion asked after a pause.
"Too much, I opine. Apparently there were some passing Chinese wizards who explained for our fair-minded leaders the basics of warding large geographical areas in exchange for information as to the Lord Voldemort's whereabouts. I do hope they catch that blackguard, but it appeared they were mainly interested in meeting him on academic matters." He waved a hand. "No matter. Whatever steps they take can be retraced in the event that they should fall against the dark wizard and whomever he has at his command."
Draco continued to be impressed by his father's ability to present the worst possible news as neutral to good news. If Nott's father had been right about one thing, it was his continued insistence that the war was necessary, and they needed the Dark Lord to lead them. Even his father or any of his peers, as wise as they would be, would ultimately put their children above the magical world. Getting rid of him was a necessary step, of course, but only once most of their enemies were dead, and it was becoming steadily more apparent that there were more enemies than just Albus Dumbledore.
Rather than being their personal quarries for recourses to use against their enemies, the departments of magical governments were purging them, effectively using blood purism, familial relations, and dark magic as metrics for employment. He supposed a disconnected Slytherin had a chance of getting somewhere in a political career, but would be watched so intently he would be incapable of doing anything to help the Death Eaters. Our only hope is to win the hearts of wizards. When people realize the Ministry is dealing with the Chinese to ward the country to remove the necessity of personal magic, they will cry out for us to save them.
Perhaps a more cautious wizard would say he was placing too much faith in the strength of the human spirit, but the truth was he only trusted the commoners to play their part as much as he trusted an animal to yelp, snarl, or bite when it was being beaten in a corner. Even a bowtruckle would try to preserve itself, the only creature that would fail to do so was a house elf, which was about where the magical governments seemed to want them. Elves were capable of magic, to be sure, but it was rarely judged that they needed to use it.
The conversation was progressing around him, but Draco had mostly lost interest in it. Resolving to remember it to the effect that he could repeat it later, his mind was still adrift with other concerns. Assuming his father would notice, he expected to be lectured for appearing inattentive later.
As the meeting concluded and the pair of them left the room, his expectations were deferred.
"How is school?"
"I'm managing. I've been away for long enough to get me expelled, but as long as the Dark Lord is the Headmaster-"
"I expect he will have different priorities than Snape. How are your academics?"
"Before leaving, I was doing well in all subjects, with the adjustment period counted for what it was."
"Very well. If for the past three years, you have seen me as a superior officer rather than a father, then I have only the excuse that the magical world is at stake, and our master knows nothing of the love of parents and children. He will put nothing at all above his own objectives, and ours are only part of our dealings with him, bargaining chips for which we must trade the greatest of risks and the harshest of penalties for failure. That you have your own mark is not what makes me proud of you, Draco."
"I understand, father."
That conversation was more or less over. What remained was the talk they had been putting off about their plans, but it seemed that would wait even longer. Of course. We never know who might be listening in.
"Draco, you are a lively young man. Have you ever given a thought to marriage? Ravenclaw would be suitable, of course, as we might form an alliance with neutral families..." Tracey wouldn't mention it to anyone, not even Padma- she has more to lose than I- "I recognize, of course, that you may have set your sights on witches further from home-"
"Precisely, father, I have- well, perhaps you know that I took a liking to one of the Patil girls, but our union would hardly turn an entire subcontinent to the Death Eaters- the east is more of a tipping point. As much as perhaps I denigrate my fellow students at Durmstrang, mine efforts alone prove that they merely wait for the strongest conqueror to appear and follow him to the ends of the earth. Should I seize the school from its current command-"
"Wizards will remember you had the help of the Headmaster."
"Truly, yet if he were to present a legitimate reason I have been out of school so long; perhaps even admitting he requested that I free Grindelwald-" There was something of a gleam in his father's eyes. "The students at the very least would not view it as his helping me, but as my helping him, and in that there could be a new sort of nobility to my actions. The Dark Lord appears to intend to keep his identity secret in the present, and freeing Grindelwald is something Karkaroff, a former supporter of his, would support unequivocally, especially when the school has need of some unifying force."
"You would sooner appear as a servant of another dark wizard?"
"As long as the Lord Voldemort is concealed and appears to be losing ground, the school would sooner serve another dark wizard, and one they could call their own. I shall no glory lose when the Death Eaters bring him down, and they will, as they will act just ahead of the magical governments, rather I should inherit the school from him- our master may have ordered his release, to be sure, but he is already the Headmaster. I contend for a new position-" He allowed his thoughts to catch up again. "The students at Durmstrang generally believe in might and magic. Blood purists defeating Grindelwald will in their eyes defeat the ideology of the greater good, or perhaps prove purism itself to be the greater good, and my being a clear supporter of purity above all else will transfer the loyalty of the school-"
"What of Evan? Earlier your letters indicated he was surpassing you in support."
"Evan is known only for being Karkaroff's favorite. When it is revealed that he was not selected for this mission, even for the reason that he was too important to lose-"
This conversation, it seemed, would go into the night.