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

Thanks to all reviewers, as always. More to come, more surprises and some silliness in store, as well as some hurt/comfort. Please feel free to drop a review in the box at the end of this chapter...and on with the show!

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

Chapter 11 - Trophies

"Time may permit such, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione neatly riposted, "But the issue of my willingness and choice still remains."

"Indeed it does, my dear," Lucius replied, as he lifted his hand up and swept it around in a gesture including himself and the two other wizards. "Will you have us, then?"

"I believe that the last time you asked me, this table wasn't quite so...er...populated," and after that, she began pushing the remains of her bacon around with her fork. It wasn't that the thought of Rowle was all that horrible, but he was so large and (despite his restricted wand status) still rather intimidating.

"Miss Granger, much as I'm flattered," Rowle said, correctly gauging her sudden embarrassment, "And despite my mention of a Revel, I'm afraid that I'd have to sit this one out no matter what."

"Ye never sat a Revel out in me memory," Walden blurted.

"True, but I also never spent this much time in Azkaban before, Walden," Rowle replied. His lips were set in a thin line.

"My dear Thorfinn," Lucius said, "One would think that would have quite the opposite effect." He delicately blotted his lips with a napkin.

"One would think," Rowle said, and he paused to take another bite off his third plateful. "But it appears our new regime, while overly concerned with prisoners' comfort, is of the opinion that Death Eaters shagging each other in the showers is unsavoury. So we were all given long-term potions to prevent such things. And mine hasn't worn off yet."

There was a very long pause after his statement, but it didn't seem to faze him, as he finished his third plate and started heaping up a fourth. Lucius had sat his napkin down and was closely examining the decimated platter of eggs. Hermione glanced at Walden, who was bright red and staring into his teacup. She had to do something, so she fell back into her comfortable academic persona. "Er...Lucius, wouldn't your potion counteract that one, though?"

"Er, I'm not exactly sure," Lucius said, in an atypically quiet voice.

"Pardon me," Walden said, as he slowly stood up from the table, pushed his chair in, and nearly ran out of the room.

"I, er, I'll go check on him," Lucius muttered, as he got up and departed.

"Mr. Rowle, do you have the slightest idea what that was all about...wait..." Hermione sat her fork down. "They were in Azkaban together before, when the dementors guarded it. When did this potion business begin? I seem to remember getting a memo about it at some point..."

"All of us who were captured and imprisoned after the Battle of Hogwarts were given it, but those two," and he gestured at the door, "both went to house arrest rather quickly..."

"Yes, I know about that-"

"And we were administered the potion every month," Rowle finished. "But it was a new experimental program, we were told at first."

"So...er...they didn't get it before."

"Well, they didn't get the potion before, no," Rowle said, winking at her before picking up his teacup and drinking it in one go.

"Oh," Hermione said, as she automatically waved her wand at the pot to pour fresh cups for both of them. "Well then."

"Well then indeed," Rowle said. "Do you think they're coming back soon? We're out of bacon."

A few minutes later, both wizards returned and sat back down. Binkus followed closely behind them bearing a fresh platter of bacon, which Rowle devoured. There was no further mention of an imminent Revel, nor any conversation at all. When Rowle finally pushed his plate away and stood up, Lucius stood up alongside him, and after perfunctory farewell greetings, both headed away toward the kitchen fireplace.

Hermione stood up and followed behind, and took Lucius' arm before he stepped onto the hearth.

"Send your Patronus in a couple of days-you do have one, yes?"

"Of course I have one," Lucius replied.

"Well, send me it in a couple of days. I believe I would like to try my hand at brewing that potion."

"Certainly, my dear. I look forward to it," and he lifted up her hand and kissed it, before tossing his Floo powder into the flames. "Malfoy Manor study!"

When Hermione returned to the dining room, it was empty, save for bustling house-elves.

"Binkus?" she inquired.

"Yes, Missy?" he replied, as he balanced a stack of empty plates in the air.

"Where might Walden have gone, do you know?"

"He is heading downstairs when I sees him, Missy."

Hermione realized that she hadn't been given a tour as yet, but she recalled that Walden had mentioned a trophy room downstairs, so after Binkus pointed her in the proper direction, she walked slowly down a flight of stone steps. There was an iron-reinforced wooden door, which was ajar, at the foot of the staircase. It was a bit chilly and very silent, and she instinctively clutched her wand as she walked through the doorway.

Inside was a rather large room with stone floors, mostly underground with slit-like windows near its ceiling. A large stone fireplace surrounded by empty bookshelves dominated the room; there were two shroud-covered chairs and what appeared to be a shrouded table between them, as well as two other large shrouded furniture items, possibly tables. A rolled-up rug stood sentry in the corner. Along the dark wooden walls, shrouded portraits and what appeared to be trophy heads added to the general creepiness of the atmosphere. Four doors led off the main room. One of them was ajar.

"Hello?" she called out, tentatively. Nobody answered. "Walden?" she said, this time, a bit louder, but to no avail. She walked closer to the open door. "Are you down here?" She reached up and tapped lightly on the door. Familiar as they were to each other, she still felt the need to preserve a bit of privacy. The door swung open to reveal Walden, his face still a little red, and his hair slightly rumpled, as if he'd been running his hands through it.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "Can I, er...I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you...I'll just, er, I'll just go back upstairs, if you don't mind." She stumbled over her words and started backing out of the doorway.

"Nay, stay here," he said, quietly. He'd been sitting at a chair in front of a small desk-she glimpsed the discarded, crumpled shrouds on the floor. A candle flickered weakly on the desk; next to it, there was a stack of framed pictures, most face down, covering the remainder of the surface. He pointed to the chair and asked, "Will ye make another one, lass?" She pointed her wand at it and muttered an incantation, and another, slightly smaller, chair appeared. Once they'd both sat down, chairs facing one another, he took her hands in his.

"This was me office...I used to bring work home when I was at the Ministry...I worked there thirteen years, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

She knew all his background information, of course, but she didn't see the point of interrupting, and nodded for him to continue.

"I was the best at what I did, I was appointed for the job after I slew a dragon-the trophy is up on the wall in there..." and he inclined his head toward the main room. "It's why I got the tattoo..." He gestured toward his upper left arm, where Hermione had noticed a rather detailed dragon was inscribed. "I loved me job, not many can say that. I didna really need to do it, I could have stayed home and helped me Da oversee the village, but it was exciting, lots of travel, and I did make a fair bit of Galleons for it. Went to America a few times, went all over Europe...gave a talk at Durmstrang, even..." he paused for a long while. "I miss that life. When I was back at the Ministry for the trials I saw some of me old colleagues. Me assistant, Burton, he's Chief Executioner now..." He let his voice trail off and relinquished Hermione's hands, and began rummaging through the picture frames until he found one, nodding, and handed it to her. It showed Walden and another wizard, standing tall in what she recognized as official Ministry robes, both holding axes.

"I've seen him round the Ministry," Hermione said. "Never knew that's what he did, though."

"He sent me an owl last month," Walden said. "He's doing those werewolf executions, Greyback and them, asked me for advice. Nae sure that's the way that should be handled but he doesna have much of a choice."

"I most certainly don't think that werewolves should be handled by that Department, and I did say something to Percy about it," Hermione said, "But nothing ever came of my complaint."

"Aye, too much anti-werewolf feeling about, that's nae going away for a while, the Pretender didn't help that cause."

"I would think not...but I knew a werewolf, he was one of my professors at school, he took the Wolfsbane Potion, and..."

"It's partially effective," Walden finished. "But hard to brew, and the ingredients arenae cheap. Greyback always said he'd never fucking drink that shite, that's probably why Burton's taking care of 'im." For a brief minute, Hermione had almost felt as if she was conferring with one of her Ministry colleagues, until she realized, with a jolt, exactly how Walden would know the werewolf's rather colorful thoughts on the matter.

"Plus he did kill one of my...well, school friends," Hermione added. It was difficult for her to find the proper word to describe Lavender Brown. They had most definitely not been friends during her sixth year at school, but the intervening years had mellowed those emotions, and given the choice, she would have preferred Lavender to end up with Ron rather than the current, lurid alternatives.

"Aye, he wanted ye, too, he told me that once," Walden grimaced.

"I did know that."

"Must have told ye when he captured ye," Walden said. "He was punished after that, I'm sure ye know, all of them were, Lucius and the others and...her," and at this last thought, he grimaced again.

"It took me years to get rid of the scar she left-finally found a salve that removed it...down Knockturn." Hermione deliberately did not look at him as she said this.

Walden pulled his left robe sleeve up. "Think that might take care of this one?" She had, of course, seen the scarred remains of Walden's Dark Mark before, as well as the ones on all her clients. Draco's, unsurprisingly, seemed to be the most well-healed. Walden's was still outlined by a very thin red line.

"I actually...er, I do have it with me. And I think at least one of your, er, former colleagues has used it for that." Hermione shivered a bit. The Dark Arts apothecary, one of the last shops remaining on Knockturn, had been fairly horrible. She'd actually found out about it during a lunchtime conversation with Orla Quirke, who'd gotten the information from her client, Rookwood. A few days later, she'd done a series of disguising charms on herself and purchased the salve. Within a month, the hated scar had vanished.

"I'm sorry, lass, it is a bit cold down here...we can...er, wanted to show ye the trophies but that can wait..." Walden said, looking at her. "I...well, I should probably tell ye why I ran off."

"I, er..." Hermione paused, and then waved her wand, performing a Warming Charm. "There. I'd be glad to assist if you wanted to give me the tour..."

"When we were in Azkaban," Walden abruptly said. "That is, after that time at the Ministry. Ye remember."

"I do," she said.

"It was for a year. No trial, we were just chucked straight in, I expected that. My Ministry supervisor visited me there to tell me I'd been removed from me appointed post, and me Da visited me and stripped me title. This all happened after he'd killed her, so I'd nae been back here for months. Me eye was healin', it took a long while for that..." and he paused. "Never really been the same since then. The dementors did leave not long after we got there, not that I could have done me Patronus without a wand, but it didna matter, even when they left I still kept reliving the Revel when he killed her over and over again, all day, every day, and all through the night."

He paused for a while and Hermione decided to gently interrupt, because although she knew most of this already, he'd mentioned something about which she was quite curious.

"You have a Patronus?"

"Aye, it's a thestral," Walden said. "I can produce it again, the spell's nae listed in that wee book."

"Oh, I suppose I'd thought..." she let her voice drift off, not wanting to state that she'd heard that as a rule, Death Eaters and Patronuses did not ever mix. "Lucius mentioned he had one as well."

"We were in prison together, ye know, Lucius and I, and it was verra bad for us both-he actually wanted to stay, because he knew, we all knew, really...that once he did get out he'd be punished for his failure, and as ye know that did happen, all of us got punished...but while we were there together we, er, Lucius and I, we took solace from each other. It was the only thing that ever allowed me to get rest that year...I hope ye willna think badly of me for it."

"I've...er...I've read about such things," Hermione said, tentatively.

"It's why I've been tryin' to stop him from doin' a Revel. Rather glad Rowle said that."

"I told him to contact us in a couple of days. I would actually like to learn to brew that potion..."

"O' course ye would, lass, he figured ye wouldna be able ta resist a challenge," and Walden smiled a very little bit.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, I know that Death Eaters are not supposed to be able to produce Patronuses (in canon, confirmed by JKR); however, as the organization is now dissolved and both Lucius and Walden have shown themselves capable of remorse and love (in my headcanon), I chose to give them this ability. As for how Walden was able to call dementors in POA-I believe that since LV hadn't returned yet, he was able to produce one then (and he actually can in the Lego HP game!)