Disclaimer: I don't own any of them, their wands, their axes etc.

A/N: Psyduck Ranger: I appreciate your comment but I've kept it in present tense for continuity.

Thanks to my lovely mum's memory (elephantine, it is) I now have the other two options on the multiple choice question to hand!


One week later, the same half-lit cellar (this time fully illuminated in light of what happened at the last meeting, pun fully intended). It is full of a group of rather disgruntled males in dark robes and masks complaining about the weather, their wives, and the fact they are now called, of all things, Voldy's Crew. Severus is chairing the gathering, and Bellatrix and the Dark Lord have not been invited.

"Order!" calls Severus, but this is unheeded.

"Order!" calls Lucius, but this is again unheeded.

"ORDER!" yells the man with the axe, swinging it in a threatening arc across the table. Several of the others duck quickly. Everyone falls silent immediately.

"Thank you Walden," says Severus. "Although trying to decapitate half your compatriots may be seen as a little extreme. Right, my fellow members of Vol... My fellow members of Vol..." He gives a small cough. "I'm sorry. I simply cannot bring myself to say it. My fellow members of the Dark Lord's inner circle. You all know why we have gathered here today without his presence."

"Why?" asks a large, boulder of a man hereafter known as either Crabbe or Goyle. It matters little which is which, neither having enough intelligence to complain at being called the wrong name. Severus rolls his eyes heavenwards and suspects that it won't be the last time this evening he'll be making this particular facial gesture.

"We have had inflicted upon us a name of the highest and utmost idiocy. We have gathered to think of a new name. Now, does anyone have any ideas?"

There is a resounding silence that lasts for the best part of half an hour. Eventually a small, rodent-faced man gives an exclamation of realisation and thrusts his hand in the air. Severus ignores him pointedly, dreading to think what ludicrous suggestion he may have come up with. The small man waits patiently for a few seconds, then:

"Severus. I've got an idea!"

"Not now Wormtail."

"But it's a really good idea!"

"Wormtail, if you aren't quiet, I'll do something extremely painful to an extremely sensitive part of your anatomy. And no, I'm not talking about your nose."

Severus addresses the rest of the group.

"Has anyone got any ideas?"

There is silence, save for Wormtail bobbing up and down in the background, squealing mutedly with the effort of not speaking.

"Anyone at all?"

No response.

"Anyone who isn't Wormtail?"

Severus sighs.

"Very well. You brought this on yourselves, you know. Wormtail, what is your idea?"

"Well," begins Wormtail with a flush of pride. "I was thinking... that because we kill people..."

"Get on with it," growls Walden, fingering the axe blade. Wormtail gulps.

"I thought we could be called..."

Here he has an attack of shyness and whispers the name he has thought of into Severus's ear.

"The what!" exclaims Severus. "That's worse than Vol...than Vol...than the other one!"

"What is it?" asks a beardy fellow with a very nasty streak, hereafter known as Dolohov. Wormtail whispers in his ear too. "I don't know Severus. It's got an nice ring to it."

Severus is so shocked at this opinion he has to sit down, and refuses to take any further part in the conversation. Lucius gives a sigh and takes over.

"We need a vote. All those in favour of Wormtail's suggestion say aye."

A resounding aye echoes round the cellar.

"And of sticking with the one we've already got?"

An equally resounding aye echoes round the cellar.

"Bugger," mutters Lucius. "Ok, who said aye to which?"

A few botched counts later, Severus holds his head in his hands as Lucius announces:

"By popular vote, we are now called...The Graveyard Gang."


A/N: Have always imagined Dolohov as beardy. It's just a beardy name...