Disclaimer: For real now, JK wouldn’t write this crap.

A/N: So…this was a long time coming. I had the first half written literally a year ago, and then horrible writer’s block hit, so I basically decided “eff it, I’ll just gloss over that part instead of describing it fully!” So I did that, it worked, and I wrote the second half in like an hour and a half, which was freakishly quick for me. Sorry if you miss the action scene, but we get to Theo/Hermione sooner eh? Eh? Good tradeoff, yes? Hey, were are you going…?!

Chapter Five: In which Aidan Grows a Conscience

Theo strapped his spare wand onto his calf as Montague ran through the plan with all of them for their second official raid. There were five new recruits in their raid, all young like them and even less experienced. Theo supposed it was another test for Montague, to display his leading prowess. He already knew what they were doing; he had helped Aidan write it for heaven’s sake, so he allowed his mind to drift. Draco was pouting in the corner, his lower lip jutted out and his arms crossed. Really, the nerve of Malfoy, Theo thought, disgusted. He was lucky that all that had happened to him was a demotion, and that he hadn’t been killed outright or at the very least, “taught a lesson.”

Flint also had his arms folded, but he looked terrifying and gigantic as usual, instead of whining and useless like Draco. Flint…Marcus worried Theo and Aidan more than anything, maybe even more than Aurors, and Theo had to keep him in check. It was ludicrous. He wasn’t small, but he still weighed about half of what Flint did, and unlike with Crabbe, Goyle, and Bole that bulk was pure muscle. Not to mention the very important fact that Flint was insane.

“Why was everyone staring at Flint like that after he chose his Mudblood?” Theo demanded.

Aidan turned around as Theo caught up to him in the corridor.

“Not here,” he said so low that Theo almost didn’t hear it. “Are you crazy? Do you want to be overheard?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for a week,” Theo pointed out, attempting not to whine. “I’ve been forced to talk with Pansy,” he said disgustedly. “Do I need to remind you of her bizarre determination to seduce me?”

Aidan snorted. “Well, I do suppose I owe you for that.” Lowering his voice, he continued, “Let’s go to my room. I don’t want any eavesdroppers.”

“Is everyone clear?” Montague asked, starting Theo out of his reverie.

The new recruits looked a mixture of excited, nervous, and ill as they nodded. Crabbe nodded as well. Flint grunted. Malfoy scowled.

“Crystal clear,” Theo responded, since it appeared no one else was going to.

“Malfoy,” Flint barked unexpectedly, “answer your leader.”

“I’m clear,” Malfoy said sulkily.

“You better be,” Flint said forcefully, “you almost got the rest of us killed last time.”

Malfoy looked furious and humiliated in front of the new recruits, who were all looking at him curiously. Two of them were whispering and snickering to each other. But he kept silent.

Well . It appeared Flint did have his uses as the other second in command after all.

“Right,” Aidan said, “no names and let’s keep it clean this time.”

They pulled on their masked, raised their hoods and apparated away.

“You’ve been avoiding me, and it has something to do with Flint’s Mudblood, and I want to know why,” Theo demanded as soon as the door closed behind Aidan.

Montague didn’t really seem to be listening. “Has it occurred to you yet,” he asked, staring at his bookshelf, “what we’ve done by not accepting a Mudblood?”

Theo paused. “You put a silencing—“

“Of course.”

“Well,” he started uncomfortably, “a lot of people decline. Snape, for one. As long as you say it right the Dark Lord doesn’t care.”

“I’m not talking about Him.”

“Well the Lestranges might have been a little—“

“No,” Aidan cut him off again, sharper. “That’s not what I mean and you know it, unless you’re a lot dumber than I thought. Please don’t tell me you’re dumb, Theo, I need at least one person I can trust.”

“You know I’m not dumb,” Theo said irritably.

“So you saw how they looked at you,” Montague said urgently, and Theo looked over at him and met his friend’s unscrutable gaze. “You saw.”

“I saw who?”

“Stop it Theo,” Aidan responded, and now he sounded really angry and…yes, a little panicked. “I mean it. I know you aren’t sure about me, but I’m just better at hiding it than you. We have the same views.”

If Theo really hadn’t known what his friend was talking about, this little speech, however impassioned, wouldn’t have clarified a thing. However….

“If I believe you and you’re lying, I’m dead,” he said quietly.

“I could say the same thing about myself,” Montague retorted. “So you saw. And then you saw how they looked at me instead.”

“Yes,” Theo said wearily, “I did. But it didn’t make sense until after it was already done.”

Aidan nodded. “Nor for me. Not until Flint…” his face spasmed and he fell momentarily silent.

“Who is that girl?” Theo asked, using the opportunity. “You all seemed to know her.”

“We don’t,” Aidan said shortly, “we just know who she looks like.”

“Who does she look like?” Theo prompted when it appeared no further explanation was forthcoming.

“She doesn’t look familiar to you?”

“A little.”

Montague was silent again, looking disturbed. “Gryffindor. Quidditch,” he finally spat out, and that’s when it clicked in Theo’s head.

“Oh, the chaser! I can’t remember her name.”

“Katie Bell,” Montague said, “a year below me and a year above you.”

Theo digested this for a moment. It fit, of course. That was why it had been all the older ex Quidditch players that had stared at Marcus strangely. There was only one thing that didn’t fully make sense.

“Did he have a thing for her?”

Ollivanders. It had been a strange choice for a raid until Rabastan Lestrange had explained it. If there was no Ollivanders, there were no wands. No wands for new Muggle-borns, no new wands for Wizards and Witches who lost or ruined their old one. Unless of course, they were a Death Eater or a supporter of the Dark Lord. Then you had an ample supply. If you raided Ollivanders the shop, then there were no wands, and if you got rid of Ollivander the man, you made sure that there would be no new wands. Sure there were other wand makers in other countries, but Ollivander was by far the best, and making the opposition use shoddy wands was a huge advantage.

All the Death Eaters had been given orders to destroy every wand they saw on an enemy from now on. What was to be done to get Ollivander out of the picture was a decision Rabastan left up to them. Whether as a test, or because it really didn’t matter was a subject he, Aidan, and Flint had debated. Or more accurately, he and Aidan debated while Flint scowled and threw in the occasional grunt and even a rare actual word or two. Flint of course, had advocated killing Ollivander outright. Theo had hastily suggested kidnapping instead, and Aidan had agreed. Aidan thought it was a genius plan, to kidnap Ollivander and force him to make the Death Eater’s wands if need be.

Theo of course had actually had no such plan in mind, and had only suggested abduction as a reflex to the thought of murder. He didn’t think of himself as a murderer. That Auror had jumped in front of a curse he had meant for a table. It wasn’t his fault. At least that’s what he told himself when he was awake late at night with insomnia. But as for Ollivander, he had just been thinking of ransom. It was just as well that Aidan had attributed a far superior plan to him. It wouldn’t do to have the Lestranges thinking again of how unwilling to kill he really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. I’m not sure,” Aidan responded agitatedly. “I mean, I always thought he was a little weird about her, but she’s four years younger than him. She was only fifteen when he graduated, for Salazar’s sake!”

“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t got a thing for her,” Theo said in a low voice. “This IS Flint we’re talking about.”

“This wasn’t what I wanted to talk about with you anyway,” Aidan said roughly. “Although I suppose it serves as a good example. What if—what if, Theo, one of us had taken that girl instead? Then Flint wouldn’t have her, would he?”

Theo knew exactly where Montague was going with this, and he silently begged his friend not to continue. Saying it would only make it more real.

“Or what if we took one of the other Mudbloods. Any of the other Mudbloods. Like that poor woman Jugson took, and traded to Rabastan, and then ended up dead, all in less than a week. What if one of us had taken her? She wouldn’t be dead for one. She wouldn’t have been tortured. She wouldn’t have been ra—“
“Shut up!” Theo burst out so loudly that he startled even himself. “Just…just shut up, Montague. You’re talking like a traitor.”

Montague eyed him knowingly.

“All I’m doing,” he said quietly, “is saying what you are already thinking.”

Crabbe and Malfoy had been relegated to wand packing detail with the new recruits. It was about all they were good for, shrinking the wands and placing them in a trunk. It might even be above their capabilities, but Montague and Theo had to work with what they were given. The two of them along with Flint had broken into Ollivander’s apartment above the store, but so far they hadn’t seen any sign of him.

“Where is he?” Theo whispered to Aidan. “He should be here.”

“Maybe he’s hiding,” Aidan murmured back, while Flint prowled around silently in front of them. “Maybe he just went out for the night, or maybe he—“

A high pitched yelp from downstairs cut Montague off.

“What was—“ Theo started stupidly.

“Malfoy,” Flint grunted, bounding out of the room and towards the stairwell. (The anti-apparation wards were in place again.)

They ran downstairs in a panic, expecting Aurors, or Order members, or even a fight between the new recruits and Malfoy, and instead encountered a nest of cockroaches flitting about while Malfoy stood on a chair and blasted them.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” Aidan exclaimed in disgust.

“So you know what this means, right?” Aidan asked Theo.

Theo nodded reluctantly, staring at the fire in the fireplace. This could be a very, very terrible idea. Even though he had nodded in assent, Aidan pressed on, putting it into words anyway.

“It means that no matter what, if we get a Mudblood offering again, we have to take it,” he said urgently. “We have to save—“ Aidan stopped, after saying the traitorous, Gryffindor-esque words aloud, then took a deep breath and plunged on. “We have to save however many we can, even if it is only one of them.”

“There are a lot of flaws in that plan,” Theo muttered.

“No shit,” Aidan snapped. “For starters, how do we keep one without displaying sadistic tendencies toward them in front of other Death Eaters?”

“I didn’t even mean that,” Theo frowned, “although now that you mention it that is a slight problem. Well,” he suddenly remembered, “you never see the woman the Lestranges took, and no one says a word about that. And have you seen the girl Flint took either?”

“You’re forgetting the fact that they have nothing to prove,” Aidan reminded Theo, “in regards to their sadistic tendencies. We do.”

“That’s still not what I am worrying about,” Theo said.

“Then what?” Aidan inquired.

“How do we choose?” Theo asked uncomfortably. “Think about it Aidan, we’re kind of playing God here, and we have to choose just one to save.”

Aidan squirmed, clearly not having thought of it himself.

“I suppose,” he said slowly, “if we recognize one of them, we save that one. Like say some Ravenclaw Mudblood we went to school with shows up. We take her.”

Theo shuddered. “I hope no one we went to school with ever shows up,” he muttered almost inaudibly.

“I don’t either, but you know it’s going to happen eventually,” Montague said grimly, “and I heard there is a raid planned on Hogsmeade the day of our next raid.”

Theo choked. “Is it a…weekend the Hogwarts students will be there?”

“We can presume,” Montague said. “Just thank Salazar we’re assigned somewhere else and don’t have to be there. Quit dodging the point though, Theo. Are we making an agreement or not?”

“We’re making an agreement,” Theo said in a low voice, staring at the floor again. “Next time, we take a Mudblood.”

“That’s it,” Flint hissed, as the recruits started laughing at the spectacle of Malfoy hiding and squealing like he was a ten year old girl. “I’m gonna kill him.” He started forward, pulling out his wand, and Malfoy squawked in horror again as the recruits stopped laughing and looked apprehensive.

“That’s enough Flint,” Theo said, attempting to sound in control, although he felt like he might need new underpants at any moment. “Malfoy, stop being a twit and get back to work.”

Flint glared at him, and Malfoy gave him a bizarre look that mixed indignation for being referred to as a twit and gratefulness at being saved from Flint.

“Good work,” Montague told him, quietly enough so only Theo could hear. “I have no idea why Flint listens to you at all, but at least he does.”

Theo felt incredibly odd as the three of them went back upstairs to search for Ollivander. He was behaving like an actual Death Eater now. His father would be proud. The Lestranges would be pleased after they saw his memories on this raid. Yet all he could think about was the raid on Hogsmeade and his former classmates, and wish that this was all a bad dream.

Pansy looked superior, as usual, as she flounced into Theo’s room uninvited. Aidan was sprawled on Theo’s couch, exhausted. Flint was disturbingly enough, acting as if the three of them were now friends, or what passed as friendship in Flint’s demented mind, and was scarfing food down like he was starving to death while he sat on a chair.

“How did the raid go, boys?” She asked, smirking. “Mine went fabulously. I’m sure I’ll be offered a new Mudblood right away.”

“What’s wrong with your old one?” Aidan snapped at her with disgust. “Wore him out already?”

“If you knew anything at all, Montague,” she said coldly, “you would know that if you please the Dark Lord exceptionally, you can have more than one Mudblood at a time.”

“Oh of course,” he snorted, “I’m sure you have done that.”

Pansy, clearly deeming him of no importance, ignored him and turned to Theo instead.

“So, the raid Theo?” she asked in her voice that she apparently thought was sweet and alluring, but instead was heinously fake and irritating.

“We got Ollivander,” he said shortly. “He’ll be making wands for us now.”

Pansy raised her eyebrows, impressed against her will. “Well,” she said slowly, “I believe the Dark Lord will be happy with you boys. No mishaps, I can assume?”

“Only Malfoy again,” Theo said, since it appeared Aidan was ignoring Pansy and Flint was not talking, as usual. Apparently, he only got chatty when he was about to torture.

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Do I even want to ask?”

“Yes, you do,” Aidan said, his delight at Draco being an idiot overcoming his hatred of Pansy. “He squealed about cockroaches, reprimanded a new recruit for mussing up his hair, jumped into Crabbe’s arms when a rat ran over his foot, and got punched in the face by Flint for being a sissy for good measure,” he recited with relish.

“You’re joking,” Pansy gasped, delight all over her face.

“Well, the part about jumping into Crabbe’s arms,” Aidan admitted. “The rest? Not so much with the joking.”

“That is simply too wonderful,” she sighed, looking ecstatic. “I’m so glad I don’t have to pretend to find him interesting anymore.” Aidan laughed, and Theo pondered the oddness of Malfoy hatred bringing the two of them together.

“How’d the Hogsmeade raid go?” Flint unexpectedly grunted.

“How should I know, I wasn’t there,” Pansy snapped. “I was leading my team on a raid at Flourish and Blotts. That, however, went splendidly.”

“You already said that,” Aidan said, bored, truce apparently over when they weren’t mocking Malfoy.

Infuriated that they weren’t hanging on her every word, Pansy snapped, “Sorry to annoy you, Montague. I heard from the Lestranges that the Hogsmeade raid went decently. Most of the Death Eaters acted stupidly, and at least ten were killed, but none were captured and many Mudbloods and half-bloods were taken.”

Theo froze. Aidan stopped rolling his eyes at Pansy’s superior tone. Flint even stopped eating.

Too soon, too soon, Theo thought. Too soon for new Mudbloods. He couldn’t handle the responsibility of having one, and he knew it was likely he would be offered one again. He couldn’t handle saving only one when the rest stared at him. He couldn’t handle owning a Mudblood like it was a piece of meat, he couldn’t handle pretending to abuse the Mudblood, he couldn’t handle—he noticed Aidan starting at him meaningfully and cut off his thoughts mid-panic. He could handle it. He had to.

Death Eaters were what greeted Tracey and Hermione, a group of Death Eaters with one small man in front, his hand looking strangely as if it were made of silver. The Death Eaters poured into the cell as she and Granger blinked against the light, reviving the other prisoners with their wands. Granger was staring at the small man with revulsion and horror, but he wasn’t meeting her eyes. He looked almost….guilty. He turned away, but not before one horrifying sentence came out of his mouth to the Death Eaters that were shackling all of them together.

“Make them look good for the gifting. They are all gathering now.”

As Hermione looked at her with terror, Tracey knew she must look confused. What on Earth, she thought, did that mean?

End A/N: You know, your reviews DO actually guilt me into writing more. Hint. Hinthinthint.