A/N: Hi everyone, I had initially intended to publish this as a companion piece but decided it would be better to condense it and have it written within the Mudblood Lover rather than a separate piece. Enjoy :)

The room was barely lit save for a few small candles held by the robed Death Eaters standing circle. Theo held his breath, trying with all his mental faculties to hide his fear. The circle broke, allowing him to cross the threshold. It closed again behind him, and he found himself staring into the most frightening pair of red eyes.

Theo fell before him onto his knee. "My Lord," he bowed his head. "I pledge my allegiance and servitude to you. I am truly honoured."

A dark chuckle filled the room. Theo felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise at the hollow echo of it. "How could I refuse such a clever and ambitious young wizard such as yourself from joining our ranks? Tobias has always spoken highly of you… but pity," he crooned, "pity he was reckless enough to be apprehended at the Ministry."

Theo dared to raise his eyes to meet those of a snake. "You will soon find, my Lord, that unlike my father, I'm not the reckless sort." A delighted cackle tore from his gaping orifice, and this time the Death Eater's surrounding him took part in his amusement.

"Spry little wizard, isn't he?" he grinned malevolently.

The others laughed harder as to express their agreement. Theo would have taken note of who was among them, but he couldn't see their faces and try as he might, he couldn't recognise anyone by voice.

"Leave us," he ordered softly. A cold, skeletal hand reached out and curled upon his shoulder. "I have exciting things in store for you, Theodore."

He made a slow rise to stand and waited patiently for the others to leave the room. The door shut quietly behind them. Theo had never been more afraid in his life. With as much conviction as he could muster, he said, "I am willing to do whatever is necessary."

"Good," hummed the Dark Lord and gave his shoulder a light squeeze, an attempt at fatherly affection. "But your first task for me is quite simple. I'd like you to keep a close eye on someone." Theo made a show of feigning great eagerness. "The Malfoy boy has been given his own task. You will observe him and report to me of anything you find suspicious."

They had anticipated precisely this. He feigned disappointed at being handed such a simple task but remained subservient. "Yes, my lord."

"You're friends with Lucius' child, are you not?" Theo didn't miss the twinkle of satisfaction shining in those bloodshot eyes and knew he was enjoying this. "I hope it isn't too much to ask of you... to spy on him."

"No," he said quickly. "My loyalty lies with you, my Lord."

His mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Still," he drawled, "it must be difficult… to betray such a dear old friend…"

This was the test. The one Theo had spent days preparing for. Lifting his eyes to look straight into his, he allowed the Dark Lord to enter his mind. "As I said," he lied. "I am willing to do whatever is necessary. I will not fail you."

Theo didn't know what was worse. Playing the sycophant or having Voldemort burrow through his mind.

Seemingly happy with what he'd seen, he patted Theo on the shoulder once more. "You will write directly to Bellatrix. Do not let your correspondence with her be compromised. I trust you know what you're doing Mister Nott. Welcome," he smirked, "to the fold…"

It was only once Theo had floo-ed home, in the foyer, did he allow himself to breathe. When he did, a wave of nausea rolled over him, and he ended up getting sick all over the floor.

"Are you alright?"

Theo nodded.

Elma, the house-elf was summoned. She appeared with a pop.

"Clean up this mess and draw Mister Nott a bath."

The elf began to do as she was told. He allowed Narcissa Malfoy to guide him to the sitting room and perform a cleansing spell. She asked him to tell her how it went and if the Dark Lord had taken the bait.

"Yes," he sighed. "It's as we thought. He couldn't pass up the opportunity to pit us against each other. I've been asked to spy on Draco. I'm supposed to report to Bellatrix."

He witnessed Narcissa's eyes cloud with unshed tears.

"Thank you."

He inclined his head forward.

It had to be done.

Her hand touched his shoulder. This one was softer and warmer than the cold dead fingers of the Dark Lord's.

Maternal.

She smiled. "You have your mother's heart."

Theo blinked at the woman before him. Before he could find the words to convey his undying devotion to her, Elma reappeared. The moment had passed to tell her he had always considered the Malfoys family and Narcissa took her leave so he could bathe.

But perhaps she already knew.

It was the only free period all three boys had together, and they usually spent it lounging about in the Slytherin dungeons, running late for their next lesson.

But when Theo and Blaise walked in, Draco was packing up to leave.

"And where do you think you're going?" demanded Blaise. "I thought we were going to play a round of exploding snap."

"McGonagall, the annoying bint," he grumbled. 'She's making me sit down with some 7th year."

"Must be a Ravenclaw," smirked Blaise. "Can't imagine a Slytherin would want to take their time to help anyone."

"Or might be a Hufflepuff," laughed Theo. "A pretty one."

Half-heartedly Draco told them both to bugger off and left the common room with his book bag swung over his shoulder and a scowl plastered on his face.

They would've found Draco's academic failure laughable and teased him mercilessly if they weren't so aware of why he was failing.

"Do you think it was him?" asked Blaise quietly after he'd left.

Theo merely gave him a withering glare. This was no place to discuss something like this. You never knew who was eavesdropping. He shrugged.

"Today doesn't seem like a good day to broach the subject, let's ask him about this tomorrow."

"There's no good time to ask your friend if," Blaise paused, dropping his voice to a whisper, "if he tried to kill a girl."

Theo remained silent. He excused himself to go to the library a moment later. Blaise didn't protest.

Once Theo stepped through the stone walls of the Slytherin dormitory into the empty corridor, he drew his wand from his robes. Vanishing his books, he muttered an incantation. An inky wisp of sorts appeared in front of him, twisting and dancing in midair.

"Draco Malfoy," he spoke softly.

The black tendril snaked and wound, distending forward, like a creeping vine. With an abated breath, he began to follow it out from the castle's cold dungeons. Then up the moving stairs to the first floor, where he watched it slither forward to the second. He thought Draco might have lied and was making his way up to the seventh floor. Turning down the hall, he came to a halt.

Luna Lovegood was standing still in the middle of the corridor wearing the most peculiar pair of glasses. The inky wisp travelled around and past her toward the end of the hall. He couldn't see where it went from there.

"Theodore," beamed Luna. "I didn't think I'd find you here."

He returned the smile and ended the spell with as much subtly as he could.

"Just out for a stroll," he said casually.

She removed the glasses and went into a ten-minute explanation about how she was looking for Wilfurs. Feigning interest—because he honestly had none in magical creatures, real or fictional—he posed the occasional question.

"So I suppose you could say they're a little like Billywigs."

She gave a giddy laugh. Her blonde hair fell forward, framing her face, and he had to stop himself from tucking a strand behind her ear.

Smiling she said, "You're so funny." He gave a modest shrug, though in truth he had no idea what he had said that was so amusing.

"Would you like to look for them with me?"

Theo glanced beyond her shoulder. He knew what he had to do.

"Sure," he grinned. But he couldn't pass an opportunity to be alone with Luna. "As long as I get to wear the glasses."

Her lips split into a wide grin as she interlaced her arm with his. He spent the next hour wandering the castle looking for Wilfurs, which he was fairly certain, don't exist. He did his best not to make moon eyes at Luna while deliberating whether she would let him kiss her.

Theo was holding the Quibbler in his hands.

"Father's just run a reprint," said Luna. "People need to know the truth about what's going on." His hands, despite his best efforts to keep them still, were shaking. His left fingers had been entwined with her right fingers just moments ago... until she withdrew them to take something out of her bag. This. This… this death sentence.

"Theo?"

He snapped to attention. "It's a little dangerous, don't you think? Writing articles about…" He was still incapable of speaking his name out loud.

Luna tilted her head, her eyes drawn to a spot on the wall. "Maybe," she whispered. "But someone has to."

He tried not to show the tumultuous thoughts warring within. Calmly he went over the possibilities of what could happen if he continued to see her. If there was a chance he could dissuade the Lovegood's from continuing the Quibbler, then he wouldn't have to give her up. But one glance at her reminded him that that would never happen.

He calculated and weighed the risks of dating the daughter of the man who was openly challenging Voldemort by publishing the wrongdoings of him and his followers. And Theo had told the truth. He wasn't the reckless type. It came naturally to him to consider moves and counter-moves, to anticipate what his opponent would do, to calculate the risk/reward ratio.

The answer was devastatingly simple.

He could no longer continue to see Luna Lovegood. He'd have to give up his lune.

He felt a pressure of sorts compressing his chest. He told himself to ignore it. He felt his eyes begin to burn. He told himself to ignore that too. Because he had to prune the variables and Luna was a variable. Granger was a variable too. He'd start with Luna, then he'd deal with Granger, and he'd think about how to handle Draco tomorrow. For now, Theo would concentrate on what to write in his weekly report to Bellatrix. He had become adept at outlining, in meticulous detail, how Draco spent his days at Hogwarts and contorting the truth into believable lies. Draco was in the hospital wing because he'd been practising a dangerous spell. Draco was slow to take action because he was being watched vigilantly by Dumbledore and the other teachers. Draco was working tirelessly on his mission, leaving no room for error. What he omitted, of course, was that his best friend, was desperately and utterly in love with Muggle-born—Elf activist—Gryffindor suck up—Hermione Granger.

A few days later he trudged up the stairs to the Owlery, letter in hand, charmed and addressed to Nott Manor. Where his house-elf would thereby take it by hand to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Sending Lovegood another love letter, are you?"

Theo startled, turning around to find Draco behind him. Sly snake, he hadn't even heard him walk up the stairs. Turning back around, Theo sent the owl off quickly. He couldn't bear to lie to Draco's face, so he said nothing.

"Or is it the Italian girl?" asked Draco with an air of nonchalance. "Whatever happened to her?"

Theo scoffed at Draco's pitiful attempts to sweep their fight under the rug. "Sofia?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That ended as soon as I left Italy mate."

He watched Draco shake his head reproachfully while he gave his owl a letter. Scowling, Theo was still silently berating his daft friend for trying to remove the Dark Mark. He didn't know what had happened, but he knew it had something to do with that pesky Granger, though Draco would never care to admit it. He wondered if the correspondence he was sending now was a secret love letter to Granger and for a split second he felt like bashing his friends face in.

"So things with you and Tracey…?" he asked instead.

Draco merely shrugged, his back to Theo. "Guess it just didn't take."

The anger was simmering inside him. Setting that up had taken him so many carefully worded hints. Tracey was utterly perfect. She was beautiful, funny and smart, and why the bloody hell couldn't he just date some other witch? Why Granger? What the bloody hell did Draco see in her?

Theo had done what needed to be done. He'd broken up with Luna despite it having killed him. Why couldn't Draco see reason and stay away from Granger? Tosser was going to get them both maimed if he wasn't careful. Suppressing his anger, Theo began to make conversation. Quidditch—that was a reasonably safe topic to discuss without being tempted to cast the killing curse.

"I'm glad Urquhart took you back. We might have a winning chance."

"Yeah, winning seems like a bit of a stretch but doesn't mean we won't try. We're playing better than ever actually," said Draco. "We have practice this evening and—oh fuck—I better run if I want to make it on time."

With that, he took off leaving Theo alone in the hallway cursing the day he befriended Draco bloody Malfoy. Keeping his best friend from being Avada-ed was proving to be a lot more complicated than he imagined. He had noticed the strange way Granger kept staring at Draco and recalled, all too vividly, the way their hands were touching when he and Luna had stumbled upon them at the Three Broomsticks. No, he wouldn't have predicted, not in a million years that of all witches Hermione Granger had a thing for bad boys.