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Furiously, I rounded on Bellatrix. "I just can't believe you left them!"

"The Order was defeating them, one by one, and I had the chance to off Potter at last-"

"Liar," I hissed. "You went and saved yourself and left the others to deal with their own fate! What about Lucius? What about Rod?"

Several of the on-looking Death Eaters looked away uneasily. Narcissa Malfoy started weeping quietly into her handkerchief.

Bellatrix sneered at the mention of her husband. "They're useless if they can't win against-"

"You didn't win, either!" I snarled. "You fled and had to be rescued by your master."

Her eyes immediately turned to the floor. I huffed in annoyance and crossed my arms. "And here I was, thinking that Slytherins at least stick up for their own. Obviously, I was wrong. They're just cowards."

"I beg to differ." Tom walked in, his voice suspiciously calm.

"Master!" Bellatrix gasped, throwing herself at his feet. "Please, you have to forgive me, I couldn't do anything, I-"

"Quiet!" he snapped, silencing her at once. "I have put my trust in you. I trusted you to bring me the Prophecy."

"Master, please, Lucius was-"

"You are quite right, of course," Tom said thoughtfully.

I looked at him curiously and saw the same expression of wonder on several others.

"Why don't we all sit?" Tom said, proceeding to take his seat at the head of the table.

Stiffly, I sank into my chair next to Alecto Carrow, who was an especially unlikable woman.

"It is true," Tom began. "I have put my trust into the wrong people, it seems. Lucius Malfoy led a large number of Death Eaters into capture, and in doing so, he failed to deliver what he set out to get: A powerful weapon essential to my plans."

The group erupted into mutters, apart from Narcissa, who was shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Silence," he ordered. "Of course, this failure cannot go unpunished. Narcissa, dear-"

"Please, my Lord!" she said at once, fighting hard to contain her tears. "Lucius is already imprisoned, he is suffering for his crimes-"

"Well that does not replace the Death Eaters he lost me, does it?"

She shivered under his angry glare and carefully shook her head.

"See, it is quite simple. Young Draco will have to fill in for his father."

Narcissa started begging piteously while most Death Eaters looked on with malicious joy.

"Isn't there another way?" I asked loudly.

Heads turned and eyes widened while Tom very slowly focused on me. "No."

I squared my shoulders. "May I have a word?" I said. "In private."

We were wandering the grounds, both silent, both waiting for the other one to start conversation. It was ironic, I thought, that I had wished for someone to accompany me; and now that he did just that, I wished I could just be alone.
But my personal sensitivities did not matter now. We had more important things to discuss.

"It's not the boy's fault," I said as we passed a set of rose bushes. "Nor is it his mother's. It's unjust to punish the two of them."

"Tell me, how am I supposed to punish Lucius when he is locked away?"

I stopped abruptly. "Then don't – Merlin knows, being in Azkaban is punishment enough!"

"That's what you say."

"That's what I know – anyone can tell you that. Why don't you ask your most loyal servant, huh? Oh, no, wait, we all know her answer." Putting on a shrill voice, I imitated, "It is an honour to serve the Dark Lord, no matter what the task!"

Resuming his walk, Tom answered, "I really have no idea why this is object to your ridicule."

"Me neither," I sneered. "Tom, leave the boy alone."

"No."

"He's just a child!" I said hotly.

"Why do you care?" he asked, turning around to face me again.

"Because I pity everyone who falls victim to your wrath," I snapped.

"No," he said softly, stepping towards me. "Why do you care?"

I straightened up. "I don't care."

"Yes, yes, you do. You care. You've got your fight back and your sass. Battling for the rights of the innocent-"

"I – don't – care," I said slowly, stressing every word.

He cocked his head to the side. "The only question is – what made you care again?"

I glared at him, the anger flaring up. "Oh, I don't know – maybe I care that we've lost people that I almost liked. Maybe I care that you were very close to losing to Dumbledore that night. Maybe I just care about your well-being." By now, tears had gathered in my eyes. "Maybe I care, because after all these years, I still can't hate you, no matter how many reasons you give me or how much I want to. You can even put the boy in danger – a mere child – just to punish his father. I have no doubt you'd like him to be killed. And I should hate you. But I can't. I just can't."

He stared, obviously taken aback by my sudden outburst; or maybe just because emotions were something so very foreign to him.

"I care," I said slowly. "'Cause I care about you. After all this time, I still haven't given up hope, that you might do a decent thing at least once."

He watched me closely for a second, then he turned towards the house again. "I won't change my decision."

I closed my eyes, forcing the tears back that threatened to spill. "Have mercy."

"Mercy is for the weak," he said coldly. "And I am not weak."

I grabbed the boys' arm and pulled him into the library, shutting the door behind him.

"What the hell?" Draco exclaimed, but I was busy locking and silencing the door.

"Who are we hiding from?"

"Who are we not hiding from?" I retorted, leaning against the closed door. "He's not going to like what I'll tell you right now."

"And what would that be?" Draco challenged, stepping forward. "Why are you bothering me?"

"I'm sure you've heard the news-"

"I'm going to be a Death Eater," Draco said at once, gray eyes sparkling with excitement.

My eyebrows furrowed at the obvious glee in his voice. They boy was actually proud!

"I don't think you realize what's going to happen. Or why the Dark Lord is doing this."

His eyes narrowed at me. "He has to replace the Death Eaters he's lost in the Ministry."

"Right. Tell me, Draco – who gets blamed for that loss?"

He looked at me plainly. "I – I don't know. Potter?"

"Your father," I said. "The Dark Lord blames your father. And he wants him to pay. Well, your father's in Azkaban..."

"So, what are you suggesting? That granting me this honour is actually punishment?" he said, clearly not believing me.

"Yes," I snapped. "He'll make you do some desperate mission that'll get you killed. It'll be the next best thing since he can't get to your father."

Draco swallowed hard. "I will not die. I'm not stupid. I can look out for myself."

"I suggest you do just that," I said. "I suggest you run – tonight, if you want. I'll make sure you get away. Go into hiding. Merlin, even ask Dumbledore for shelter. Just get away."

The boy merely rolled his eyes at me. "He'll have my mother."

I stared for a moment, then I regained composure. "Take her with you."

"This is nonsense," Draco said firmly. "I'm not going to die."

"Draco, please," I said. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you're too young-"

"What do you care?" he snapped viciously.

I winced. What did I care, in fact. "Listen, boy. I knew your grandfather and he was a likeable enough man. I've seen your parents grow up – your mother's done so much for me in the past months alone. 'Sides, I like you well enough. You're clever, you're proud, you're loyal. You've done nothing to deserve this. None of your family has. But you will all suffer terribly if you go through with this. You need to get away."

His eyes met mine so firmly, I wondered if he really was as naive as I thought. "Thank you for your advice," he said politely. "But I'm old enough."

With that, he flicked his wand at the lock, snapping the door open, and left.

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