Disclaimer: I don't own J.K. Rowling's universe, I just like to do really evil things with her characters, on occasion.

Chapter 2 - Uncomfortable Truths

In the plush, expensively-decorated boardroom of Nott Enterprises, Theodore Nott stood looking out at the city of London. Located on the tenth storey of a magically disguised building in the heart of the Muggle business district, the outside wall of the boardroom was made entirely of spell-reinforced glass, and the view was quite impressive, most days. The shroud of rain clouds that had hung low in the sky for the past three days made it rather less so today, and Theo found that it suited his mood. He turned abruptly, focusing his attention on the room's other occupant, who looked back at him with a nonchalant expression. "You're sure this information is accurate?"

"It's been confirmed by no less than four different sources." Blaise Zabini lounged in a chair at the table, a cup of coffee held lazily in one hand. "I should be offended that you're asking. You know I wouldn't present you with anything I hadn't verified."

Theo glared at him, but Blaise didn't so much as blink. "One of these days, you really will outlive your usefulness," he snarled, turning back to the window.

"True," Blaise agreed, still damnably nonchalant, "but not today." He sipped from the cup, then set it down on the table. "You've been dancing around this for months, Theo. It's time to act, if this is what you want. We won't get another opportunity like this one, and you know that as well as I do."

This, Theo reflected, was why he rarely allowed anyone else in the room when he met with Blaise, because only Blaise could talk to him like this without fear of dire retribution. Someday, he probably would end up dead by Theo's hand, but not while he was still a useful tool in Theo's master plan. He reined in his temper, turning back to the man who was, for all intents and purposes, his right hand. "Your team is ready for this?"

"Hand-picked them and trained them myself," Blaise confirmed, the lazy demeanor vanishing now that they were talking business. "All foreign talent, couldn't risk using anyone local in case something went wrong."

All easily expendable, too, Theo knew. "And the charm work?"

"Tracey will handle it, the day of. She's come a long way since you let her pick that Unspeakable's brain, by-the-by. Stroke of genius, that."

Theo allowed himself the faintest of smiles. "I read the report. It was quite riveting, I must say. The Department of Mysteries is three steps ahead of everyone else on thought security. Shame they're not more pain-resistant."

"They've gotten lax," Blaise scoffs lightly. "You'd think, of anyone, the Unspeakables would know better, but apparently that damage to the Hall of Prophecy years back is still hampering them."

"One more thing we can thank the old guard for."

"Is that a note of sarcasm I detect in your voice?"

"It's been too fucking easy, Blaise." This was Theo's primary concern, and had been from the beginning. "You would think, after Riddle, that people would have learned to keep an eye out, would have learned some sense of self-preservation, would have stopped being such fucking sheep." He stopped himself, reining his temper in again and lifting both hands to massage his temples. "There's been no challenge, no official investigation by the Ministry, and the one person who's taken notice has been spurned, reviled, outcast."

"You can't say it hasn't been for lack of trying," Blaise pointed out. "You gave them the opportunity to do something to save themselves, after all. The fact remains that people, on the whole, would rather not deal with such uncomfortable truths. They would rather feel safe, be complacent, lambs to the slaughter up until the moment the lion finally opens his jaws, and by then it's too late."

Theo looked back at the view, the rain clouds pressing down on the city. "Am I doing the right thing, Blaise?"

"No," his friend replied. "You're doing the necessary thing, and doing a much better job of it than the last three or four wizards who've bungled their way along."

An uncomfortable truth, but unlike the sheep that the rest of the population had become, Theo faced it head-on, with grace and dignity. It was the other reason he kept Blaise around, because Blaise always told him what he needed to hear. "Give the word," he said, finally. "The night of the Anniversary Ball, Granger is ours."