Theodore Nott was doing his best to contain himself as he paced through the small library in the Riddle house, as he learned it was called.
Betraying Draco Malfoy had been the right move in the long run; his only concern was having acted too soon. It was, of course, easy to come to that conclusion as the hour of his death drew near, but even if he did perish, the magical world would have a true heir to a truly noble house, and would therefore be led to its salvation. His father told him for the eighth time that week that pacing would do him no good; the pair of them had already looked for every conceivable way out of their predicament, including tunneling through the floor, and all they found there was an unbreakable boundary. The Dark Lord himself had designed this prison, after all. The rational mind could be quite confident the only way for either of them to leave was if someone opened the front door.
They were quite surprised when that was exactly what happened.
Their guests, however, were not there to free them. Comprised as they were of a smattering of elder and younger and Hufflepuffs, he had every expectation that they were there to hasten the already certain demise of himself and his father. Theodore readied his wand, as the best selected words would yet be wasted, but his father was inclined to some final remarks.
"Everything I have done, I have done for the magical world and its people. The Dark Lord has brought her out of the sclerotic death she was dying, and his heir will have the power to overthrow him when the time is right; when the pursuit and receipt of power renders him too great or too mad to see a threat for what it is. Only a powerful wizard can save our world, and with every generation the ancient House of Slytherin will produce one more powerful than the last. Kill us, if you must, but you will be quite helpless before Evan. It is a great irony that you should have listened to the bleating of Albus Dumbledore, who insisted that might did not make right-"
"Silencio," one of the wizards incanted.
"Spare us your conspiratorial nonsense," another started. "It is you who stand powerless, your master surrounded by enemies, and the decision of the conference at Ys accepted by the Albanian Ministry, at long last."
A witch among their numbers, somewhat older by her height seemed to be casting detection spells.
"It's too soon to count our chickens, isn't it," she said. "There's a right nasty ambush on its way here." She looked over to what remained of the Nott family as she drew out a long, translucent cloak. "Butties of yours, are they?"
Theodore had not heard of any rescue party arranged; he could hardly imagine who would want to free him, but there would be enough who wanted a chance to kill a few Hufflepuffs, else take them prisoner. It seemed likely the Black Sea Sorcerers were the opportunists, but perhaps it would furnish them with the opportunity to escape all the same. The muggle library of the Riddle house had proved itself most uninteresting, and his exodus was the only thing overdue.
Right as it felt like the spells were about to start flying, the door opened again. A witch he instantly recognized as Flora Carrow, ex-Hogwats, ex-Beauxbatons, and current Durmstrang student, stepped in to draw the attention to herself. She had a way of doing that. Looks like she even drew two of the wands to point at her. Unfortunately, one of those still pointing at us belongs to an Auror with an invisibility cloak.
"What the hell are you doing here?" a witch his age asked.
"The boys are dealing with some Grindelwald supporters who showed up to kill you after you were done with these two. They thought I would be more than sufficient help to turn this little battle in our favor." Her eyes narrowed. "You know how quickly I can deal with ten of you attacking me all at once, don't you?" Three wands pointed at her.
The physical shields were erected in time to block the dark flesh-rending curse he could attribute to a French warlock if he had the brain cells to spare, but his father acted first, casting a killing curse into the back of a younger wizard without a trace of remorse. The Auror sent a curse in his direction, forcing him to dodge, but his father's dark shield gave him the opportunity to respond with one of his own. His target was no longer there as it arrived, having thrown on her cloak and repositioned, but he was lucky enough to hit the younger witch, freezing her in place. A killing curse came at them several feet from where the enemy had been last, but his father's shield absorbed it to the probable shock of the caster. Her next target is either me or Flora. She doesn't have time to think of how to get past the dark shield.
Steeling himself, effectively preparing for death, Theodore hit the other wizard in the back with a body-bind as Flora blasted away against his increasingly desperate shielding. Killing the witch instead of going through the rest of it, she turned to help them against the invisible Auror right as he was forced to dodge a killing curse after his father's detection charms failed to locate its caster, the last enemy still mobile.
"Father, use Fiendfyre-" he started, right before he had to dodge again. It was all he could do to watch out for whence the curse might come; he could hardly think of fighting back. Flora's spell had a chance of working, since it had an effect on an area, and he knew the enemy could not apparate, but the next killing curse told him nothing had hit her yet.
"I can't, not with you here-" his father responded, managing to block the next one.
"Aguamenti!" he incanted, spraying a jet of water and moving his wand around. He readied himself to dodge a killing curse, but his father was rooted in place as some sort of rock or piece of masonry flew in his direction, hitting him hard in the chest, through the shield. Able to do nothing else, he kept spraying water in all directions, The Auror was dodging the water, not wanting to get hit by Flora's waves of dark magic. Another killing curse came in his direction, but this time he blocked it with the jet of water and kept spraying. Physical barriers do not have to be solid.
After dodging a killing curse aimed at her, Flora took to standing on the other side of the old Nott, who had put up more shields to block flying rocks. Somewhat ambitiously, he even put one in front of the door. Theodore was hit by a knockback jinx, coming too quickly for him to dodge, and it knocked him into a shield. His wand flew out of his hand almost immediately. A piece of the ceiling came down on his father.
"Just the two of us, it is," they heard the Auror say as he scrambled, looking around for his wand. "Give yourself up and tell me about this plot," she ordered. Flora cursed in the direction of the voice, but laughter rang out elsewhere. Some sort of ventriloquism charm...
A body bind towards Flora interrupted his thoughts. With no other method of survival available, he threw himself in front of it right before the witch cast the flesh rending curse again. A blood curling scream rang out; it was the sweetest music to the frozen Theodore, as it meant the curse had at least glanced their enemy. Flora cast again and the screaming stopped.
"Finite," she said, pointing at him.
"My father..."
"Your father is dead. That absolute hag dropped a piece of the ceiling on him after depriving you of your wand. She might have thought you would have used the water to push it away." Flora smiled a little as she walked over and picked up the dead Auror's invisibility cloak. "Of course, she never suspected the real reason you were putting out so much water."
He was not in the mood to have his cleverness praised. His father's body was not even cold. It was all he could do not to break down. How am I to live without you, father? How will Evan... His grip tightened around his father's wand. Malfoy is a fool and he can't even see it. His efforts will be of some use by the time all this comes to a bloody end, but he will number among the dead.
"Accio wand," he incanted, snatching up his own familiar wand of elm and phoenix feather as it flew to him. "Where are the others?"
"I wouldn't worry about them."
"Wherefore-"
"Evan and Erik can take care of themselves. It's just a few Gryffindors."
"Why, then, did you come here for us?"
"You're useful, potentially, and you've already taken a few of his orders. The fact that you've found yourself at odds with most of the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord is a benefit in Evan's eyes."
The two of them walked over to the petrified student they had decided to leave alive, mostly due to his not having been an immediate threat. They would have killed him if necessary, but it was not to be. Something in Flora's eyes indicated she recognized him as she took his wand from him.
"Wayne Hopkins," she said, removing the body-bind curse. "You're lucky we didn't kill you, but then, so are we. The official story here is that when you four attacked this place, our friend here got away, and we were only just in time to kill you, but catching you alive will make it even better. You were one of the ones casting explosion charms left and right, weren't you?" She cast a lazy sort of look at the front door. "Did you know Erik lost his brother in that ordeal?"
The young wizard instantly recognized what she meant.
"Please- you can't do this to me; I'm a pure blood."
"I know; it truly is a shame. The Dark Lord, however, will not see it that way."
"No, not Voldemort- anyone but-"
"Petrificus Totalus." She tossed her head. "It really is a useful spell, and it's simple enough that a first year can learn it," she observed. "It hardly surprises me you and the other vassals never dedicated that much time to learning the killing curse."
"Most of them are all right," he said.
"Tell Evan when he gets-"
The door opened.
A pair of wizards covered in blood walked in; the younger of which was still stuffing a veritable collection of wands into a bag around his neck. He ignored everyone else as he picked a few off the dead Hufflepuffs.
"I have one here for you," Flora said, extending Hopkins's wand. "I don't believe its owner will be needing it any longer." She then extended the cloak to the Heir of Slytherin. "This, however, is for you."
"An invisibility cloak?" Evan asked. "Brilliant, Flora, I don't think I've even seen one before." He turned to the last Nott. "It appears Malfoy doesn't have as many thoughtless lackeys as he thought."
"He's really the only filth in his whole operation," Theodore explained. "He acted like he cared about losing Crabbe, but he never so much as frowned. In days before that, Goyle lost his father and if he ever said anything, it did not reach my ears. He cheated on his girlfriend and his only true concern was your finding out about it." He hung his head a bit. "In this time I feel I must reveal that Davis-"
"Davis acted exactly as she was ordered. When did you begin to realize you served a fool?"
"My father is a Death Eater; he told me that Malfoy had incurred the Dark Lord's wrath on numerous occasions." He sighed. "I don't entirely blame him for never telling us, but he erred so far as to make it seem like he was on speaking terms with most of the Death Eaters. Rarely, perhaps as often as the equinox, did he treat us like wizards and witches and tell us the truth. The final offence was acting like liberating Grindelwald was anything other than a punishment."
"I see... There will be some use for Malfoy going forward, but he will never know why you chose to kill his vassal Bole."
"Why was that?" Flora asked.
"Last year, there was an incident with a first-year of our own esteemed House, Mafalda Prewett. Bole, the blackguard, called her a blood traitor and implied her only use was to conceive of heirs of a greater blood quantum on her first day. I was somewhat surprised she did not start crying immediately."
The witch only smiled at that.
"Then he only said what many of us thought."
"He said it, and then some of his minions tried to take her by force. That was the fateful night Evan told me there was a way out. What was it you said? 'There are many ways to walk in the dark; you may as well keep straight'? I confess, I did not know what it meant when first I heard."
"Perhaps neither of us need walk in the dark," Flora suggested, looking at the dark wizard with long, dark hair. How did I not see it before?
"Not long the Dark Lord told me I was not the Heir of Slytherin, for it was he, I realized who I truly was. The name my adoptive father gave me will... serve, as long as life remains to me; I find I am accustomed the name Evan and enough people believe I was named after the Death Eater, Rosier. I shall only become the Heir to the great House of Slytherin when the current heir dies, and battle with him is my destiny."
"You will not survive," Nott advised. "Out of any who continue to draw breath, you know the power of the Lord Voldemort."
"That much is true," Evan responded. "Did you know he does not sleep? I have no idea what magic controls that particular function."
Theodore had no idea himself. Books were generally written on a subject when there was a general interest in it, so the revenue from selling the publication would be worth the costs at the very least. It seemed like something unique to a dark wizard that he would desire to never sleep again. He has to be using some manner of healing charm on his brain, the better to replace the recovery cycle.
Putting thoughts of the Dark Lord out of his mind for the moment, he started to think of his own future. The three who had come to his rescue seemed to imply they would be hiding him, since they intended to claim he escaped, so they probably had some place to stay, probably out of reach of the ever expanding jurisdiction of the magical governments of Europe. He wondered how long Georgia, where Durmstrang was located, could hold out before being incorporated. At a time like this, I have to share Malfoy's lack of confidence our master.
His liberators seemed to have no such concerns, however. Erik had only just finished picking up the wands and inspecting them, and Evan was talking with Flora about how they distracted the group outside with a horde of snakes before just killing them from behind with a few different dark curses. The witch only chided that if he visited such destruction on blood traitors in a nonmagical area, they would probably risk a Secrecy violation, and that would mean the chore of killing a few muggles.
"Excuse me, are you blood purists?" Theodore asked.
"Not really," Evan said. "Flora is, Erik was raised that way, and I'm at least on the same page about ancient lines and the muggle threat, but no, I don't think pure bloods are any better than anyone else. I'm a half blood, same as the Dark Lord." Erik nodded in agreement. He seemed a taciturn sort most of the time, not unlike his elder brother, but he seemed somewhat less thick.
"And you?" the witch asked.
He thought of how best to make an impression; it seemed ideal to agree with Evan, though he had not put himself in the middle of his associates. For some reason, however, he felt it would be better to be honest, and his elementary Occlumency did not lead him to suspect he had been made to think that way.
"Complications abound. Father believed the war is necessary, even though it will be the end for some of us."
"You cannot very well value magical blood if you mean to throw it headlong at those who want to destroy it, yes," Flora said. "And yet, there is no one else who will fight for the pure of blood except the pure, and one cannot very well value magical blood unless you have someone fight for it." Evan rolled his eyes as she spoke. Theodore had heard such arguments before, and he imagined it was the same way with the wizard who spoke Parseltongue, but the dynamic was strange to him. Evan would be showing her no such disrespect if she were the leader, and if he were in charge, he would not be standing by while she disagreed with him.
At the moment, though, it seemed better to keep his thoughts to himself.
The invisibility cloak seemed to have fascinated its new owner, though not as much as Erik, who liked powerful magical artifacts and could tell it was much older than a standard cloak, and to retain its properties after so long was quite the unusual sight. He had heard some truly ancient stories about the Peverell brothers, as every other pure blood child, but he had never once believed them. It could have been an inspiration, some old artisan who believed in the tale when he was younger-
"Is this the true cloak, then?" Evan asked. "One of you must have heard about it."
"I have heard of it," Flora said. "Unfortunately, I know no more of its recent ownership than anyone else. It should not surprise us that so powerful an artefact would fall into the hands of the Ministry, though; they already have the Goblet of Fire."
"Yes, as soon as we return to our birthplace, our mission will be its recovery, whether in the short term or otherwise."
There was a pause. It occurred to Theodore he might have spoken too soon. It is entirely possible they share my fear that we shall never return to our home; that as our childhoods it has been taken from us forever. Hogwarts has fallen. The ancient lines have been driven from the shores to the last child. No one has heard from Macnair; the days and nights that have passed are too long for him to still breathe.
"I rather like the way you think, Nott," Evan said. "I should like to get to know you better. Perhaps this will be the start of a great friendship between our houses."
At a loss of how to react, Theodore only nodded, rather reminded of Brutus and his speech on the tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood leads on to fortune. He started on a rudimentary plan of his next few moves, all previous thoughts having been made irrelevant. If there could be any certainty, no quarter would be afforded to Malfoy, and no chances about him would be taken. He has grown stronger than even he can divine. Allowed to grow stronger, he will be more useful when at last we bring him to heel.
"Show me your arm," Erik said.
Theodore revealed he was not marked without hesitation.
"Brilliant," Evan decided. "Everything we've said, we've said knowing that... someone... might be listening." To say he smiled would be an exaggeration; his lips merely twitched, their edges almost entirely obscured by the draping of his long, black hair.
"You really should have a haircut," Flora suggested, looking at the same face that captivated Theodore. "I could do it myself, you know- Daphne would not be able to take her eyes off you."
Evan only responded with a somewhat more amused, visible smile, the piercing sight of his green eyes turning to the witch. Erik stepped between them.
"We've places to be," he said.
"I suppose," Evan said, putting the cloak away. "Perhaps... you would like to meet my adoptive father, Nott."
"I fear I already have, Snape." Theodore grinned as his new friend brushed the hair out of his eyes to reveal something he had only just begun to suspect might be there. Where before he had seen only part and assumed it was a mark of abuse, concealed as was expected of their young bearers, he saw now the lightning-shaped curse mark for what it was. "Mean you to tell me where you earned that?" he asked.
"Oh, Evan, you know what to say for that," Flora said, flickering to a playful look. "Say you got it in a fight, and the other wizard had it worse."
As the four of them buried his father's body, Theodore decided not to reveal how close to the truth the witch had come with her suggestion.
A/N: Here we are at the end of Much Worse than Death, where must I in equal measure thank you for your patience and implore you not to spoil this particular reveal. I suspect some have already figured out what is revealed in this chapter, but do not, either in reviews or on social media, deprive other readers of the proper first impression of this series. Perhaps there are not many of these readers, perhaps they do not generally mind spoilers, but I have no interest in finishing a series if major plot and character points are commonly known. I shall be grateful if everyone takes the same amount of care as I have in keeping the secrets going forward. With that out of the way, let us meet again at the end of The Shameful Human Weakness, the publication of which will start next Friday.