DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.

Greetings and many thanks to all...especially my faithful reviewers! Sorry for the short hiatus, but the Day Job intervened just after Thanksgiving. I promise there is much more in store for you all, and possibly some surprises.

(Thank you to the lovely ladies of the Death Eater Express FB group, most especially for introducing me to a certain Viking! My fancast for Thorfinn is a slightly blonder Rusty Coones from Sons of Anarchy, BTW.)

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

Chapter 10 - Brotherhood

"There's a black bird perched outside my window
I hear him calling
I hear him sing
He burns me with his eyes of gold to embers
He sees all my sins
He reads my soul..."

"Come Join the Murder," The Forest Rangers

"I thank ye, lass," Walden said. "Ye remember that me Portkey's set for next week, aye?"

"I remember," Hermione replied. "I was rather hoping to stay here until then, if that's all right with you?"

"More than all right," he murmured, as he reached for his robe, donned it, and headed off to the loo. When he returned, Hermione was already under the covers. The Bluebell Flames had receded to a dim flicker, but they were enough for him to find his way...and the flames gradually increased as they spent the rest of the night in each other's arms.

Hermione woke up slowly the next day, slightly less disoriented, but with an overwhelming feeling of urgency, before she realized that, despite its being Monday, and rather later than she would normally wake up, she had no need to rush off to the Ministry or anywhere else. She stretched luxuriously, while attempting to recall the last time she'd had any time off work, or even time to herself, other than very brief evenings or weekends...and most of those, during the last few years, had been filled with take-home assignments.

So her time had not been her own since summers off from school, then, and of course, the last one of those had been rather rudely interrupted by You-Know-Who. She'd chosen to return to Hogwarts for a rather condensed seventh year, along with a handful of her classmates; Harry and Ron had headed straight for Auror training, thus beginning the splintering of the so-called Golden Trio...and her and Ron's relationship, although she didn't realize that straight off, of course. He'd not begun morphing into his current role as the notorious playboy until the year he'd left the Aurors for a job alongside George at the joke shop, though. It had all started innocently enough-Hermione had started her MLE legal training, and she, Ron and Harry were invited to every social event the wizarding world had to offer, even the occasional soiree at Malfoy Manor. She always had to beg off due to her extreme workload, and when Ron got tired of being the odd man out alongside Harry and Ginny, he'd started asking Luna as his date...which had ended when she abruptly took off on safari with Rolf Scamander. After that was when it had all gone wrong. Hermione recalled the numerous Witch Weekly stories-she'd taken to hitting her copies with Incendio the minute they were delivered. And shortly after that, she became immersed in the dark world of the Death Eater trials...which were at long last over. I still seem to have take-home assignments, though, she thought to herself, as she glanced over at Walden, who was stirring slowly awake.

"Seems odd not to have to go to work," she said, by way of a morning greeting.

"Glad I doona have to do chores nae more," Walden grunted, as he reached over and kissed her lightly on the mouth. "Didna care for it."

"Chores?" she asked.

"When I was on house arrest..." Walden replied, as he withdrew from her, stretched and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Me Da gave me chores ta do, every day. Only got out of them when I went ta the Ministry for the interviews and the trials."

"You said they treated you like a child, but you never told me what that entailed," she said, as she followed his lead, standing up and retrieving her robe from where it hung on the outside of Walden's wardrobe.

"Didna tell anyone," he muttered, as he tied the belt around his robe. "Er...sorry, me lass, but, I forgot to tell ye about the letter I got yesterday...er...Rowle is visiting today, with Lucius..." he picked up his pocket watch from the bedside table. "...looks like they'll be here in about an hour, ye doona have to, er..."

"Visit with them? Lucius doesn't have something planned like he did the other night, does he?" Her mind flashed to the conversation she'd had with Ginny. All she could recall about Rowle at that moment was that Harry had told her he'd set Hagrid's hut on fire the night Dumbledore had been killed, which normally wouldn't have been a good recommendation.

Walden laughed. "Not at this hour, but ye never know with him, best we both get dressed quickly."

"Considering the other evening, we should be quite safe," Hermione giggled as she Summoned her beaded bag. "Mind if I hang some things up in that spare wardrobe?" She walked over to it and opened the door. It was full of what appeared to be witches' clothes, shoes, and a suitcase. "Oh..." her voice drifted off.

"Och, shite," Walden growled. "Thought he cleaned those out...fuck..." He walked over and stood next to Hermione, then reached out and lifted up the sleeve of a rather fancy purple robe. "This is the one I bought her in Salem..." and the words hung in the air between them.

"Er...I'm sorry," Hermione began, "Shall I-I could..."

"Please, lass," he said. "Ye can put them in one of the spare rooms, I'll ask the elves to show ye where," and he dropped the sleeve and snapped his finger. "I need ta...I'll get a bath ready..." he slowly backed away from the wardrobe.

Hermione waved her wand and efficiently shrunk the clothes and shoes into a small pile, then opened the suitcase. Inside, she noted that there was a rather similar pile of clothes and shoes, as well as a small bundle that pulsated with magic. Figuring it was absolutely none of her business, she moved the pile she'd shrunk into the suitcase and handed it to Binkus, instructing him to store it in a spare bedroom. She then withdrew some clothes and shoes from her beaded bag and hung them up.

As she glanced out of the window, en route to the bath, she was not in the least surprised to see five ravens lined up, staring in at her.

"My dear Hermione!" Lucius exclaimed, as he exited the kitchen fireplace. "You're looking quite well, this bracing...Highland air is clearly working wonders for you."

"Why, thank you, Lucius," she said, with a smirk. "Walden will be down shortly-if you would step through to the dining room...and Mr. Rowle, how nice to see you again," she added, as the large wizard stepped into the kitchen behind Lucius. "Miss Granger," he muttered, giving her a short bow before brushing copious amounts of ash off his robes and out of his long blond hair, which was tied back in a neat queue.

She followed both of them in and took a seat at the opposite end of the table from where the two wizards arranged themselves. Binkus bustled in and handed round tea and scones to all, and for a few minutes, silence, punctuated by the soft sounds of tea stirring, reigned. Lucius, unsurprisingly, was the one to speak up first. "I'm not sure how much you know about the Alliance, my dear," he said, looking directly at Hermione. If Rowle was surprised at the familiar form of address, he didn't let it slip.

"Only what I've heard in testimony," she replied.

"Well, it is a way for myself and my former associates to give back to the community that was so sundered by the actions of the Pretender," he began, and then took a deep breath, which suggested this was just the beginning of a rather lengthy speech.

"Ye mean it's a way for ye to regain all the respect ye think ye once had," Walden interjected, as he strode into the room and took his place at the head of the table, nodding at Rowle along the way. "And I've told ye. I'm nae interested in givin' more interviews, I'm done with that, it's all on record at the Ministry...and by the way, laddie, ye didna close this house up as well as ye told me ye did!"

Lucius raised his eyebrows just a bit; he clearly didn't appreciate being interrupted, but he also felt the need to preserve the peace, so he merely replied, "I hardly had a chance to check over my work that night, I thought it was far more important to get Evan away to safety. And if you don't mind, brother, I'd prefer to discuss that in private."

There was another long silence after Lucius' words, which Rowle surprisingly broke. "So, Miss Granger, are you here to provide us with the benefit of your legal expertise..." He paused, and smirked at her, obviously anticipating her answer, as she was neither dressed in Ministry robes nor encumbered by paper or quill, "...or is Skeeter's column actually true for once?"

"That wretched column is on a semi-permanent hiatus, Thorfinn," Lucius interjected.

"Thought so," Rowle said, as he picked up a scone and devoured it in one bite. "Well done then, Walden, my barrister was rather pleasant but certainly not in this one's league," and he gave a polite nod to Hermione, who instantly blushed and grabbed her teacup for something to do, as she wondered exactly who had not read Rita Skeeter.

"Leave the lass alone, Thorfinn, or ye can leave after ye're done demolishing me breakfast table," Walden growled.

"Hardly much here to demolish, brother, mind if I get some more of these scones and possibly some bacon and eggs?" Rowle said, sounding rather offhand. Hermione glanced at him and realized he was actually slightly larger than Walden.

"Ye didna say ye were comin' here expecting ta be wined and dined, hurdie, just ta bore me with more talk of that Alliance, which I'm nae joining, so ye may as well go now then," and with that, Walden stood up and strode toward the door. "I'll be right back," he muttered.

"Now, now, Walden," Lucius said, standing up as well. "There's no need to throw anyone out, I asked Thorfinn to announce our visit well in advance, so we couldn't possibly have interrupted anything. We shall finish our discussion when you return, and in the meantime I'll have my elves bring some food from the Manor." He turned to Rowle and Hermione, who were glancing at each other curiously. "If you two would excuse me?"

"Never properly told you thanks for being there with me for that, er, wand business," Rowle said, after several minutes during which he'd devoured the rest of the pile of scones.

"Oh, er, you're welcome, Mr. Rowle," Hermione said. "Nobody much enjoyed that procedure."

"Fucking Dawlish enjoyed it," he snapped. "Arsehole." Dawlish, after his many misadventures during the years of Voldemort's return, was somehow still working as an Auror. Hermione recalled Ron telling her that he was a "completely humourless git," partially responsible for Ron's job dissatisfaction.

"He wasn't being very professional," Hermione replied. "He Incendio'd Walden's wand, and he wasn't supposed to." she added.

"Did he really? I suppose I should consider myself lucky, then," Rowle said. "Although I do find myself wishing that my last name was a bit earlier in the alphabet...not too early, though, mind you," and he winked at Hermione.

Without thinking about it too much, she said, "You would have only needed to move up two spots on the rota, and I would have preferred you to Avery."

"Everyone prefers me to Avery," and he smiled. "Hope he's cleaning loads of bedpans...probably enjoys that, though..."

Hermione shuddered. "I'd rather not think about that."

"Sorry. Do you think Lucius is coming back soon? I didn't have breakfast," and he glanced toward the doorway. "So, are you going to Australia with Walden, then? Lucius mentioned we had to have this meeting before he left."

"I'm sharing his Portkey," Hermione said, as she picked up her tea cup. "But I'm going there on my own errand."

"Oh?" Rowle said, politely as he scraped up the scone crumbs from his plate on the edge of his knife. "Ministry business?"

"No, personal business, I need to...er, retrieve my parents."

"Retrieve them?" After Rowle had licked all the crumbs from the knife, he looked around again. Hermione thought she heard his stomach growling.

"I gave them Memory Charms, you see, convinced them they needed to move to Brisbane, to keep them well away from...er..."

"Myself, my former colleagues and the Pretender," Rowle finished. "Sorry. There was some discussion of them at one point, as I recall. They're Muggles, aren't they?" He picked up the knife and started cleaning his nails with it, and Hermione realised that he'd been in Azkaban until quite recently.

"Is that a problem?" she asked, coldly.

"Was never much of a problem with me," he said. "Most of the Knights had a Muggle or two back in the woodpile, but it was best to never mention that sort of thing to the true believers, like Mulciber or the Carrows. I was in it for the power, Miss Granger, that's pretty much the size of it."

She'd heard much the same thing from Orla Quirke, her colleague, so she simply nodded and said, "Very well, that's more or less what most of the others said, including Lucius."

"Not that he had much left once everything was said and done," Rowle added. "Bloody hell, er...could you call Walden's elf? I wouldn't mind more tea if nobody's going to bring round more food."

Hermione stood up. "I'll go see what's taking so long."

"Nae need, lass," Walden said, as he re-entered the dining room, followed by Binkus and two of the Malfoy elves, all of whom were balancing multiple platters of food. "And Thorfinn, ye knobdobber, whatever ye were saying to the lass, shut it!"

"I was being perfectly polite, Walden," Rowle protested. "And thanks for the food...laddie," he added, in a fairly dreadful parody of a Scots accent.

"Get it up ye, Thorfinn, most of this is from Lucius, I doona want ta go hungry the rest o' this week after ye've raided me cupboards."

"I think you'll find these provisions to your liking," Lucius added, as he slowly sauntered into the room and redeposited himself in his appointed chair. "We're all aware of how meagre the rations were in Azkaban."

Rowle nodded; he was already halfway through his first plateful.

"May I offer you some repast, my dear?" Lucius said, passing one of the platters to Hermione.

"Thank you," she said, as she filled her plate with eggs and a rasher of bacon.

"Now then," Lucius began, after a pause during which the quartet made variously-sized dents in their food. "Walden has just agreed to join the Alliance, on a limited basis, starting when he returns from Australia with the delightful Miss Granger..."

"Lucius," Walden interjected. "I told ye, I'm going for me son, the lass is just sharin' me Portkey..."

"Very well, then, when he returns from Australia with his dear son, Evan," Lucius edited. Nobody at the table was quite sure to whom Lucius was making his speech-the two former Death Eaters, though, were obviously used to his behavior, and Hermione just nodded politely. Clearing his throat, Lucius continued. "So, we'll be starting the interviews in February, with an eye to getting the book released somewhere around the beginning of May."

Hermione interjected, "How very seasonally appropriate." Both Walden and Rowle snorted, and Rowle added, "Planning on holding a Revel for it? Why wait, we can start that today!"

"Really, brothers," Lucius said. "I was merely taking advantage of the yearly cycles to ensure the success of this endeavour. How typical of you both to reduce this down to its basest element before we've even had our coffee or brandy...although, now that I think of it..."

"Nay, Lucius," Walden said. "I drank all yer potion the other night, anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure our dear Hermione is well up to the task of making more," Lucius said. "My dear, since you aren't departing for several days, it seems that time does permit, does it not?"