Disclaimer: Nothing is for me, nothing is mine.
Authors note: No really, guys, I don't know if I like the code name thing. Ok well I do in fact I might love it, but I don't know how to handle writing with it. Parentheses? Real names in the parentheses? Initials in the parentheses? A list at the beginning? Only code names in speech? Gaaah! Comments, criticisms, thoughts, edits, and solutions to this conundrum are more than welcome!
Disclaimer: This is a long one, with probably some cursing, and some dramatic writers flair. Bah, I've been caught, I love theatrics.
Adrian Pucey - Phobos
Liam Baddock - Deimos
Theodor Nott – Oberon
Draco Malfoy – Chaos
Vincent Crabbe - Moros
Gregory Goyle - Pallas
Blaise Zabini – Pan
Pansy Parkinson - Nyx
Daphne Greengrass - Hebe
Morag Macdougal – Nike
Millicent Bulstrode - Cerberus
Elijah Harper - Cratos
Anthony Vaisey - Tyche
Malcolm Baddock – Hecate
Astoria Greengrass - Eris
Flora Carrow - Nemisis
Hestia Carrow – Hypnos
A week later, and the Lair was busy adjusting to its forcible expansion. They'd blasted their way into the old servants quarters, and holed up their refugees in there. They'd also left their calling cards, on murdered and wounded Death Eaters, and in raided kitchens and raided stock rooms.
They'd ended up with a large fight on their hands, and they'd come away with almost 30 students.
They'd made up 4 servant rooms and put them up by house, to minimize bickering. There was an unspoken agreement between the original 17 Slytherins; their masks were on pretty much permanently, except when they warded their lairs shut, or when they were locked in the bathrooms.
Mostly, they had Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, but they did have 6 Gryffindors. They'd had to fight their way out a bit, and so there had been an emergency potion making need, and they'd set up in a corner of Millie's kitchen.
There were a few of them working at the potions, Draco had offered to teach anyone who wanted to learn, though the split personality was starting to make him feel actually split. Chaos, leader of the small unofficial, but bloodthirsty rebellion could be brusquely kind to nearly anyone, but Draco Malfoy sneered at the thought of teaching Hufflepuffs how to make potions.
They were also preparing for the inevitable, which was the decision whether to risk going back for the remainder of the students in the castle, or cut their losses. There were only about 40 or so students left that were deemed worth taking; deemed as per their questioning of their newest house guests, and they could probably hide them in the empty, burnt manor without much effort, but Draco himself had helped drag the bodies of the 7 death eater guards they could find in the great hall, lain across the ancient flagstones. He doubted Voldemort, or the Ministry was very amused at them right now, and if they had any sense they would have increased the guard at the school. One side would torture and kill them, the other would send them to Azkaban or kill them. So best to lay low, as for some reason, not everyone understood why Draco and his pack might be out for blood.
They'd need more people this time, but Draco refused to put anyone younger than himself on the kill team, and so they would either need to find some other of their older classmates and hope the would deflect, or they needed to let their abductees in on the plan, and train them, and hope they would help.
He sighed; leaning back, and moving into the hall between the houses make shift dormitories.
"Hey. School meeting, children."
A few head poked out, and before long, with Pan and Pallas at his back, he stood before the tired, bruised faces of the children they'd help escape.
"This may not come as a surprise, but we are all of us, your classmates. Or we were, earlier this year. We have since obviously run off, and now that we've dragged you lot with us; we have a choice for you. You have three options. The first, is be smuggled to the continent, to run, but then you'll be on your own, and you'll have to be obliviated to forget who helped you. The second is to remain here, but not be brought in on any of the mischievous shenanigans we have been getting up to. If you select this option, you may not communicate with anyone, and you may continue your school, but you may not ask for anyone's identity, for the location in which you reside, or for the privilege of contacting anyone on the outside. The last is to join our fight and our ranks. If you chose this one, know this. We are not a children's playgroup, we kill and steal, and we are not afraid of Voldemort, or of the ministry. To join us, you cannot fear consequence, you have to live in the moment, and you cannot stay hung up in the past. Many of you were not our friends, when we were school children, but this war has caused us to grow up before we are ready, and so to join us you must leave the past and the future out of your thoughts. You will receive your mask and name, and you must leave your old self behind, like we have."
He spoke quietly, and he saw, as some of them huddled closer together when he mentioned killing, but he gritted his teeth, now was not the time to go soft.
"When your decision is made, come find us, I'm Chaos, and this is Pan. We're the headmasters at this private institution for children and sinners. Inform us what you would like, we will pass no judgment, but know that we will not tolerate rats." He turned, and walked from the hall, letting the drapery they'd hung to separate the newcomers from the old lair swirl shut dramatically.
"Very dramatic, Honey," jibed Pan, flicking his wand at the tapestry before pulling off his mask.
"Oh shut it, woman," Draco responded, smiling under his mask, and sitting at the kitchen table. Pan perched on the table, and before long Nyx and the ever-insufferable Nemisis padded in from where they had been undoubtedly working on curses with some of the other originals.
"Did he deliver a speech that would've made Snape cry?" asked Nyx brightly, sitting next to Draco, singing her arm around him.
"Oh, it was most mysterious. He did offer the option for them to join us though."
"Ooooh, ickle Chaos, suddenly the chaperone for interhouse cooperation? Who'd have thought it?" cooed Nemisis, sitting on a counter top, her short legs swaying.
"Here at the Private School For the Young And Evil, we do not have houses. We are one large, and terrible family. Shame on you children for implying I segregate the children based on traits they exhibit at young ages."
Draco grinned, shoving at Nyx, but keeping his arm around her, if only to try and drag her from her seat and onto the ground.
They scuffled playfully while Nemisis interrogated Pan brightly about the possibilities of their growing revolution. No one else thought of it as a revolution, but who was Draco to crush the dreams of a small girl?
A quiet knock on the tapestry, and they all froze, pulling their masks back on, and Nemisis hopped off her perch on the countertop and went, checking to make sure everyone's faces were covered before she pulled back the tapestry. There stood a small group, well, maybe half of the children they'd rescued actually, nervous pale faces lit up by the kitchens hearth.
Draco nodded, standing, and gesturing to the long, crude kitchen table, with its low benches, inviting them to sit. He nodded to Nyx who got up, and quietly went to go find someone to help her steal some more masks from Wiltshire's unsuspecting muggle population. Nemisis was clearly beside herself with glee at all the codenames she got to invent. Het obvious penchant for Greek mythology was transparent, and while she just like some of the names, some were veiled references.
Draco produced a piece of paper and a self-inking quill. "Write your name, and Nemisis here, will write your code names. Memorize them, love them, and do your best to forget your old names and old selves. Once your trainings through, it'll be safe to stay unmasked amongst us, and us amongst you, but until then let's try our best not to know one another."
Eighteen of them, not bad, this brought their numbers up to 36, which actually, was a more than decent number.
"So from now on, you are each others families. You will eat and sleep together, and practice with us. It's sort of like school, sometimes we work on magic, sometimes potions, sometimes we try to figure out the muggle world, and muggle fighting. What I said before counts more than anything. If you hated each other at Hogwarts, tough luck, you've all just become brothers and sisters, so now you can only dislike someone as much as you'd dislike a beloved sibling. So feel free to hate things about your new family, but we're all each others got."
He rolled his eyes as Nemisis snatched up the list, and delightedly slipped off to the library to look up more mythological code names, no doubt. He leaned back on wall and looked them over. Not exactly who he would have chalked up as his friends while he was in school, but he felt a weird twinge of pride. They were choosing him. Ha. Take that Lord Voldemort.
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