(The plot thickens. And for the super-observant, yes Draco brought his own "waiter" to the Muggle restaurant, a fact Harry would certainly have noted if he hadn't been so busy analysing Draco. He definitely needs a refresher course in Auror Training, or possibly fewer blond distractions...)

26th June, 2005 - Sunday

Harry had a lie-in the next morning and apparently Eddie did also, as Harry did not hear him at all when he finally rose from bed and made his way to the kitchen. He drank two cups of tea and skimmed through a six-week-old copy of Witch Weekly that had sat on the table. He was hungry but it was closer to lunchtime than breakfast, so he decided to wait awhile and then go out and fetch something. It was nearly an hour later that he heard the shower turn on.

He smiled and left Eddie a note tacked to the teapot. Be right back with something delicious.

Eddie was a huge fan of fried haddock, so Harry Apparated to the waterfront and braved the early lunch crowd to order a couple of fish and chip baskets with a side of grilled lemon sole. Harry decided he would need to work out soon to rid himself of all the extra calories he'd been eating.

He popped back into the kitchen and placed the paper sack on the table. "Eddie?"

"Here."

Harry frowned and walked into the living room, not registering the odd sound of his voice until he stopped short at the sight of Eddie a chair in the centre of the room. A man was stood next to him with a wand at Eddie's throat.

"Drop the wand, Potter," the man growled.

Eddie's mouth was covered by a strip of silvery material. His eyes were wild. Harry swallowed hard and cursed his inattention. He wasn't even holding his wand—it had been jammed casually into his back pocket. He turned his attention to the man, whom he did not recognize at all.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

The man whispered a spell and Eddie screamed, audible even through the—was that Muggle tape covering his mouth? Harry took a step forward, but the man shouted, "Drop the fucking wand!"

Harry reached back to grab his wand and the man barked another command. "Stop! Do it real slowly. And only two fingers. One shifty move and I'll cast the Killing Curse so fast he'll be dead before your hex gets halfway here."

Harry slowed his movements, looking for an opening. Avada Kedavra was six syllables. Harry should be able to cast Expelliarmus before the man completed his incantation, but dared he take such a chance with Eddie's life? Sweat trickled down Eddie's brow and he trembled visibly in his bonds, which were both tangible and magical, gleaming with a faint blue light.

"I can see you thinking about it, Potter. I know your ways, don't think I don't. Did I mention that I also got a long knife tucked up under pretty boy's spine back here? You might think you're fast enough to curse me before I can get a spell off, and maybe you're right. But there's no way in hell you're gonna stop me from shoving this dagger straight into his heart. Now. Put down. Your wand."

Eddie's breathing was becoming loud and dangerous-sounding. He was forced to breathe through his nose and Harry was afraid he was having a panic attack. Eddie might be in trouble on his own if he didn't calm down, and Harry was afraid the man was right about the knife. He dared not chance it.

Using his thumb and index finger, he carefully took out his wand and held it gently, point straight downwards, as though it were a poisonous snake.

"Very good. Now toss it over here, easy like."

Harry gave his fingers a twitch and the wand sailed a short distance and rolled beneath the chair that Eddie was bound in. The man seemed to visibly relax.

"Now sit down on that sofa over there and don't move. We are going to have a little chin wag." He jerked his head towards the sofa. The table that normally sat in the centre of the room was gone—it had either been moved, Vanished, or shrunk. Harry wouldn't be able to use it as a weapon, even if he'd been confident enough to consider picking it up.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"My name is Rosier. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. A rogue Death Eater. "Is this for revenge, then? Payback for killing your precious Dark Lord?"

Rosier straightened, but his left arm remained behind Eddie. A wince from Eddie let Harry know that the knife threat was very real. Harry filtered through his options, seeking a way to at least get Rosier away from Eddie.

Rosier laughed, a hissing, breathy sound. "Naw. You did good there, boy. That arsehole was a cauldron full of crazy. Would have killed us all, eventually. I'm here about Draco Malfoy."

"What?"

"You need to tell me where he is. I followed you two last night after your cosy dinner and then I lost Malfoy, the bloody bastard. My need is great, therefore you will tell me where I can find him."

Harry's eyes flicked to Eddie, who was still breathing hard, but it seemed less laboured now that Rosier had lowered the wand from his neck. Eddie's brows drew down and he stared directly at Harry.

"I don't know where he is," Harry said truthfully.

"Wrong answer. Crucio!" The spell caught Eddie, who reared out of the chair as far as his bonds would allow. Another muffled scream made the veins in his neck stand out in stark lines of pain. Harry half-rose.

"Stop!" Harry cried.

Rosier's wand twitched to him. "Sit. Down." Eddie sagged into the chair. Tears slipped from both eyes and he seemed to be choking.

"Please. At least take that off his mouth. He can't breathe."

Rosier shrugged and, using his wand hand, he ripped the tape away in one swift movement. Eddie screamed again and then his loud gasps filled the room. A corner of his lip bled, probably torn by the tape. "Harry," he whispered.

Harry drew a shaking breath. He could not afford to make any mistakes. "I don't know where Malfoy is. He sent me a message yesterday to meet him at the restaurant."

"Why?"

Fuck. Why, indeed? He couldn't admit that Malfoy was helping them to catch evildoers. Hell, it sounded ludicrous in his own mind. "He was trying to get some information about a friend of his. A friend in Azkaban."

"And what was he going to give you in exchange?"

"That is none of your concern."

Rosier chuckled. Harry looked at him closely in order to commit his face to memory. He could not recall seeing him at any time during the war. Certainly he didn't recognize the drawn, sallow face with stringy, greying dark hair. The makings of a beard dotted his chin in unattractive patches and a divot-shaped scar marred one cheek. He was lean and muscular, although not very tall, which worked to his benefit as he hunched over Eddie.

"You're right. I might just carve the answer out of Malfoy's hide when I catch up to him. You may not know where he is now, but I'm betting you can find him. Are you a wagering man, Potter?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'm betting I can get Eddie begging for his life before you tell me how to find Malfoy. You seem the stubborn sort, so I'm sure it will take us a while." Rosier lifted his wand.

"He told me to send an owl to the Mincing Magician. I don't know if Malfoy is staying there or if it's just a mail drop."

Rosier frowned at him. "Really, now, that was too easy. You're taking all the fun out of it. Or maybe…you're lying." He prodded Eddie with his wand and another Cruciatus Curse twisted Eddie's frame. Harry could see him struggling not to scream. Eddie's knuckles went white on the arms of the chair.

"That's all I know! I swear it! Eddie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Eddie slumped back, panting, when Rosier stopped. Harry sat back at Rosier's curt gesture. He'd been perched on the edge of his seat, half-ready to spring forwards and take on Rosier with his bare hands. It would only take a moment to Summon his wand and then—

"I believe you, Potter. But I don't need you to warn Malfoy and come after me just yet, so I'll give you a choice. You can either stop me, or save dear old Eddie's life." With that, he cast a Full-body Bind at Harry, who cast a wandless Protego the moment Rosier's wand lifted. It was only partially successful. Harry's body snapped into board-stiffness, but he felt he might be able to shake the effects if he concentrated. "Pity you won't have time to do either one."

With that, Rosier lifted the dagger and drove it into Eddie's upper thigh. Eddie's shriek echoed through the room. Harry struggled to move, tried vainly to Summon his wand with a thought.

"I'll be off now. And I think I'll take this with me as a souvenir." He retrieved Harry's wand from beneath the chair and twirled it. "Ta, Potter, you've not been exactly helpful, but better than useless. Sorry about lover boy, here, but he wasn't good enough for you, anyway. Isn't that right, Eddie?" He gave Eddie's face a squeeze with one large hand, pocketed Harry's wand, and then reached down and gripped the handle of the knife.

Eddie made a wordless, gibbering plea that ripped at Harry's heart. He fought to cancel the spell holding him. It was weak; he should have been able to break it. Finite, he thought desperately, struggling to concentrate and not give in to panic. Finite Incantatum.

"I'll be needing this." Rosier yanked the knife free and Eddie screamed so loudly that Harry would have blocked the sound if he'd been able. "Oh my. Looks like I've nicked an artery. You'll most likely bleed to death in about five minutes, Eddie. Too bad. Good day, boys."

With that, Rosier Disapparated, leaving Harry staring at the ceiling listening to Eddie's terrified sobs.

Harry forced himself to concentrate, blocking out everything and trying to bring back his training. Calm yourself, he thought. Wandless magic was either instinctive or born of confidence and ease. You've done this spell a thousand times. Finite Incantatum. Finite Incantatum. Finite Incantatum!

The third iteration broke the spell and Harry bounded to his feet and ran to Eddie. His thigh was crimson, and blood pooled on the chair and spilled to the floor, marring the Moroccan carpet Eddie loved so well.

"Where is your wand, Eddie? Merlin, stay with me. I need to know where it is." Harry held Eddie's face in both hands and spoke calmly. Eddie blinked at him, obviously on the edge of passing out, probably from both shock and blood loss. Harry pressed one hand to Eddie's thigh in an attempt to slow the bleeding. It felt warm and slick and he pushed away the knowledge that it was Eddie's life slipping through his hands. He dug deeper, seeking a pressure point. "Eddie!"

"Bedroom," Eddie managed in a weak croak.

"Accio Eddie's wand!" Harry yelled. It flew into his hand and he set about freeing him from his bonds. He forced himself to move methodically. The spells binding Eddie were tricky, and then he had to sever the ropes, all whilst not removing his hand from Eddie's thigh. It was difficult work manoeuvring Eddie's wand. Casting was sluggish and each spell seemed delayed, as though the wand was reluctant to function for him. When the last bond fell away, Harry Apparated them straight to St Mungo's. Covered in blood, as they both were, their arrival caused an immediate stir. The healers rushed Eddie away, down a long hallway and into a closed room.

The doors had barely shut before Harry cast a Patronus and sent it to Malfoy. Come to St Mungo's now. He had little doubt that his tone would carry through, even in Patronus form.

"Are you hurt, Auror Potter?" a medi-witch asked, eyeing him closely.

"No. It's… not my blood." He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, trying to dispel a rush of tears. It was his fault that Eddie was wounded. It was his fault that a fucking madman had invaded their home. His fault, and Malfoy's.

"There is a washroom at the end of the hall. I'm sure they will be with him for a while. You have time to clean up."

Harry nodded and tried to give her a smile before heading into the washroom and scrubbing at the blood staining his hands and arms. It was everywhere, splattered on his shirt, smeared on his jeans, and he even found a dark red splash on his white trainers. Trembling, he cast a Cleaning Charm at his shoe. It took three attempts and then left a scorched mark on the toe in place of the blood.

Harry placed Eddie's wand on the counter and rested both hands there. He took several deep breaths. Fuck, he hadn't even sent word to Kingsley. Or Ron. He needed to do that. After rinsing his hands once more and drying them, he went out, only to see the medi-witch at the nearest station waving at him.

"I'm sorry, dear, there is no word on the boy yet, but a message came for you." She handed him a tiny sealed envelope. He tore it open and found a message scrawled in a neat script.

I am in the loo nearest the lift on Spell Damage. ~D

"I'll be right back," Harry told her and nearly ran for the lift. He drummed his fingers on his thigh as he waited for other passengers to enter. The ride seemed to take forever and he pushed through assorted occupants to escape on Spell Damage. He pushed open the door to the loo and scanned for Malfoy. There was only one man stood near the sink in a voluminous hooded grey robe.

A spell slammed and locked the door behind Harry, who yanked Eddie's wand out and lifted it defensively.

"Relax, Potter. I don't want to be disturbed. What has happened?"

"What has happened is that Eddie was attacked! In his—our—own home! Because of you!"

"Is he alive?"

"Yes. No. I don't know! They are working on him now. He was stabbed in the thigh with a…" Harry looked away. The memory loomed like a grotesque shadow. "A knife."

"A knife? What self-respecting wizard uses a knife?"

Harry glared at him. "Rosier! And he was looking for you. He tortured Eddie so that I would tell him where to find you."

Malfoy pushed back his hood and leaned against the sink. "Rosier." His face was unreadable. "And did you tell him?"

"I told him about the Mincing Magician."

Malfoy nodded. "Good. Did you happen to mention that I was working for you now?"

"Of course not!"

"I needed to make certain. After all, with poor Eddie being tortured I had to ascertain you didn't give away all of my secrets."

"I don't know any of your secrets!"

"Au contraire, Harry, you know far too many of my secrets." Malfoy shot him an incongruous grin. "Although I admit there are many more that you do not know."

"What are you going to do about Rosier?"

Malfoy sobered. "I'll get back to you on that. This little display was most likely to get my attention. He wants something from me, so I will meet with him and find out what it is."

"He followed us from the restaurant yesterday. He wanted to know why you were meeting with me, but he didn't pursue it, although he mentioned something about carving the answer out of your hide."

Malfoy waved a hand. "Yes, yes, torture and maiming. That is all that the small-minded are good for. I can handle Rosier. With that said, however, he is a very dangerous man. After the war he became a political terrorist selling his allegiance to the highest bidder."

"A political terrorist?"

"Yes, although he is more of an assassin than an activist. The political-minded appreciate him because his kills tend to make a statement. Do you remember when the Croatian High Talismaster was murdered?"

"Murdered? That was an accident. The whole building went down due to a stray Muggle missile. He was killed with eight other people."

"That was no stray missile. Rosier has made a name for himself not only because of his merciless success rate, but also because he is willing to use whatever unorthodox methods necessary to get the job done. And by unorthodox, I mean Muggle." He gestured at Harry. "The knife he used on Eddie was just a taste. He has used bombs, guns, garrottes, and even once rigged a Muggle automobile to drive into a garden party and explode. I believe that one was also officially called an accident." Malfoy made air quotes around the last word and Harry had to shake off the oddity of hearing Muggle terms issuing from Draco Malfoy's mouth, spoken as though he dealt with them every day. Perhaps he did now.

"Then what does he want with you?"

"It could be any number of things, the most likely of which is information." Malfoy pushed himself away from the sink. "I will meet with him and let you know. Tell Shacklebolt and the others to keep their wands to themselves if they should happen across Pansy or Blaise out and about. I need them both and won't have them arrested for minor misdemeanours."

"What do you mean by misdemeanours?"

Malfoy cocked his head. "Do you really want to know?"

Harry lifted a hand. "No. Never mind."

"Very well. You had best get back to dear Eddie and I will go and face my latest madman. Wish me luck." With a wave of his wand, he unlocked the door and then flipped the hood back over his head, covering his pale hair and most of his face.

"Malfoy! Two things."

Malfoy turned back and Harry could make out the twist of his lips, although he couldn't see Malfoy's grey eyes.

"Rosier took my wand. I'd like it back, if you can manage."

"And the second thing?"

"Why do you keep telling me not to trust Eddie?"

Malfoy's half smile disappeared. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Not yet. And some things you need to learn for yourself. One day you will trust me, and then you will believe me when I tell you things that you don't want to hear. Either that, or Eddie will slip up and you'll figure him out on your own. If he survives the night, that is. I'll be in touch, Harry."

With that, Malfoy slipped out the door and was gone.

oOo

Hermione and Ron came to sit with him at St Mungo's. Hermione fetched tea and they waited for news. Harry told them what he knew, which wasn't much.

"This is all because of that git, Malfoy," Ron muttered.

"He helped us save Liam's son," Harry countered, "and we wouldn't have caught Greyback without him." He wasn't sure why he was so keen to defend Malfoy, but he couldn't seem to shake his parting words. One day you will trust me. Was that what he really wanted? Was it all an elaborate ploy, or was Malfoy being sincere? Harry could not think of enough valid reasons to sway the answer one direction or another.

"Harry." Hermione said his name again and he realised she had spoken more than once.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure Eddie will be fine. He's strong."

"Yeah, mate. It won't be long. They've fixed up much worse here, yeah? Remember my dad after that horrible snake bit him?"

Harry nodded. "I let him take my wand. I couldn't stop him. Why didn't I set stronger wards? I told Eddie a hundred times they needed to be more secure and he said he didn't want to live in Gringotts. I should have done it anyway."

"Harry, stop blaming yourself."

"He's got your wand? Merlin, you'd best report that to Kingsley right away. In fact, he's going to want to hear all of this."

Harry wanted to snap at him for being less concerned of Eddie than Auror business, but his assessment was accurate.

"Ron—" Hermione frowned.

"He's right. Can you go and give him an overview, Ron? I need to stay. At least until I know Eddie is out of danger."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, of course. I'll be right back." Ron gave Hermione's shoulder a squeeze as he passed by on his way to the lift. She sent a fond smile after him.

"So, you're working with Malfoy now? Don't worry. Ron hasn't told me much. I know it's all highly secret, but he can't stand knowing something that I don't without bragging about it a little."

That drew a wan smile from Harry. "Yeah. And it's not like you can't be trusted. It's been weird. Especially when I was ready to leave the Aurors, and now I'm right back in the thick of it. I was ready to let it all go, for Eddie."

Hermione clutched his hand. "You still can. Don't let Malfoy influence you. He has his own agenda and no one knows what it is. Maybe you would be better off doing something else. Take Eddie and go on a long vacation, once he is up and around again."

"If he's up and around again." Harry tried not to sound bitter, but he was worried. It had been a long time with no word from the healers.

As if called by his depressed thoughts, a medi-wizard walked briskly towards them. "There you are, Mr Potter. I believe you came in with Eddie Carmichael?" At Harry's nod and scramble to his feet, the healer smiled. It looked out of place on his face, as though he were typically humourless. "I believe we have stabilised him. He will not awaken for some time, however. He suffered major blood loss and the blood-replenishing potions will take some time to replace what he has lost. That is best accomplished while the patient is asleep."

"He… he's going to be okay?" Harry could scarcely believe it; he'd half-convinced himself that Eddie was going to die. Hermione clenched his hand.

"Indeed, Mr Potter. We prefer that he sleep for at least twenty-four hours, and preferably forty-eight. Perhaps longer, depending upon the efficacy of the potions."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath before letting it out. A knot of tension untied itself from between his shoulder blades, leaving bone-deep weariness behind. "Great. That's great. Thank you so much. Thank you."

The healer nodded. "Just doing our jobs, Mr Potter. Good evening."

As he walked away, Harry turned and pulled Hermione into a relieved embrace. She giggled against his shoulder. "I told you all would be well. Now, let's go get you into some clean clothes and feed you something. I doubt you've eaten all day."

Harry allowed her to lead him away, and let her comforting babble wash over him. No matter what, he knew he could always count on her to take care of him. With all the recent upheaval in his life, it was good to know that some things never changed.

27th June, 2005 - Monday

Draco pushed open the door to the warehouse and frowned when the movement kicked up a stir of dust that settled over his Italian loafers. He wondered why the suspicious sorts always chose to meet in the grimmest of surroundings. What would be wrong with meeting in a charming, private gazebo such as the one in Magnolia Park? It was sheltered from the weather and absolutely beautiful in early summer. And there was no dust.

"Into the light, Malfoy, where I can see you."

"Ralston. How lovely to see you again." Draco obediently walked into the circle of light cast by a dim overhead bulb. "Although I can't quite see you. Would you care to join me?"

Rosier edged into the light, hanging back so that Draco could just make out the dark point of his wand, held in his right hand. "Don't try anything stupid."

Draco clucked his tongue. "Honestly, I'm here, am I not?" He held up his hands. "And look. I don't even have my wand. Your message was rather vague. Would you care to be more specific? And do we really need to do this here? I can think of a hundred better places."

"We're meeting under my terms, not yours. You've been chummy with Potter recently. Why?"

"Because it amuses me. Is that really the information you seek?"

"No, but I need to know where your loyalties lie. You steered me right in Berlin, so I'm willing to trust you, but not if you've turned coat."

"Please. My loyalty will always lie with myself. What are you working on?"

"Something big and I don't need you in my way."

"Why would I get in your way?"

"Because it could involve Potter. Doesn't need to, but it probably will."

"Your target is someone close to Potter." Draco buried a sinking feeling. He could stop Rosier right now, but then he'd never learn who was paying him.

"Why were you with Potter at the restaurant?"

"If you must know, I've been trying to lure him into my bed."

Rosier's face twisted into a grimace of disgust. "You can't be serious."

"I am perfectly serious. I am bored with easy conquests and I wanted a better target. Who better than the ultimate challenge?"

"How do you plan to do that?"

"With finesse, of course. I have pretended to have a change of heart. I'm feeding him information and in return he is learning to trust me. As a side benefit, it won't hurt a bit to have someone of Potter's status on my side. Think of the things I might learn during post-coital bedroom talk." Draco smiled like the Cheshire cat and shook his head. "Just the thought of it makes me all tingly inside."

Rosier's expression was plainly disbelieving. "You honestly think you can play Harry Potter?"

"Never underestimate me, Ralston." It was a threat, although it was doubtful Rosier would see it as such.

"Well, this might throw a gnat's wing into your potion. My target is a Weasley."

Draco's heart clenched. "Which one? There are multitudes."

"Not saying. I can't take your story at face value. I'm not stupid."

That was debatable, Draco thought, but he knew it wouldn't be wise to mention it. "Fair enough. What do you need from me?"

"An updated internal map of the Ministry. They made some changes in the past six months and I haven't found anyone willing to divulge the new layout."

That was because Draco had located and paid off everyone with access to that knowledge, or at least all of the ones who would have sold the information. "Which parts? Even I can't get the Department of Mysteries." That was also a blatant lie. Draco prided himself on his fibbing skills.

"Don't need that. Need DMLE. And Level One."

Rosier seemed to have tacked on the latter as an afterthought, which meant his target was in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Which narrowed it down to Ron Weasley. Fuck. There was a slim chance that he was after Bill Weasley. As a Curse-breaker, he had access to DMLE and they frequently pulled him in to assist with certain cases or to dismantle traps for the Aurors.

"Easily done. Is that all?"

"For now."

"Fine. Name a figure."

Payment was quickly agreed upon and Rosier's easy acceptance of Draco's fee made him uneasy. His services did not come cheap and Draco hadn't bothered to start low. Whomever was financing Rosier's mission had deep pockets.

"Where do you want the plans delivered?"

"There is a chair at the Pasty Pudding marked with a deep scratch that they never bother to repair. Affix the plans to the bottom of the seat with a Sticking Charm. Someone will fetch them."

Draco nodded. It was standard procedure. Rosier would send some hired grunt to pick them up and he would use a series of Apparition and Floo jumps to avoid being tailed.

"I'll need them within 48 hours."

"You'll have them."

Rosier nodded. "Any duplicity and I'll blow your guts to the moon."

"A pleasant image. Thank you for that. Now I shan't be hungry for lunch."

"You always were a bit of a freak, Malfoy."

Takes one to know one, Draco thought savagely and took his leave.

oOo

"Home" was a relative term for Draco. These days he tended to apply the term to whatever building his favourite pair of shoes occupied, whether it be a posh hotel room or woodland shack. In the portions of his soul that he no longer acknowledged, he knew that the true meaning of the word, for him, would always be Malfoy Manor. He dared not set foot in his ancestral home. Not now, and perhaps not ever. It was the one place everyone expected him to go, and therefore it was the one place to which he would not return.

It also held a thousand bad memories, none of which he felt like rehashing. Ever.

His current home was a mid-sized row of stone-fronted houses barely wide enough to accommodate a door and a single, tall window. Draco felt rather claustrophobic inside, especially with Blaise and Pansy both in attendance as they were currently.

"That went well," Blaise said as he moved to the sideboard to pour them all drinks. Blaise had been lurking on the roof during his meeting with Rosier, ready to protect Draco's back if the need had arisen. Pansy ignored them both. Her feet were up on the sofa and her nose was buried in a trashy novel.

"I need you to locate Nash. Rosier is hiding something. He wants floor plans of DMLE, but something feels off. It could be a diversion. Find out if he approached Nash or anyone else asking for information. I'll need more than vague supposition on this one."

Blaise finished pouring and reached for a glass, but it sailed away from his grasp and into Pansy's waiting hand. Long used to her antics, Blaise only sighed and reached for the other two. He carried one to Draco and sipped from the other.

"Are you sure this thing with Potter is a good idea?" Pansy asked.

"How can you ask that? You know all of my ideas are brilliant." Draco beamed at her. "Besides, look what it has gained me already. Freedom and Ministry protection. I no longer have to worry about being arrested."

Blaise snorted. "Only until they find enough evidence to pin something on you."

"They won't or they would have done it by now. Besides, if I give them Rosier, they will owe me more than they can ever repay."

"Why not just drop the bastard when we had him in the warehouse?"

Draco rolled his eyes and took a drink. There was a reason why he was the ringleader and they were the followers.

~TBC~