Mudbloods of the Death Eaters

Author Notes: My abject apologies this has been so long, and thanks to all of you who reviewed. I will try to respond to everyone in the review thread, but just know that I appreciate every single review. The next chapter and a half are already written, so the next update should be soon. This story is clearly AU because of HBP and DH.

Chapter Three: In which the Lestranges are terrifying

They hadn't even had time to catch their breath before the inner circle had swooped upon them. Lucius Malfoy had gotten one glimpse of Draco's bloody head, at his unconscious form, before Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood had had to restrain him from attacking the rest of them.

Before they'd been able to get a word out (it did, after all, look dire: two unconscious members of the team, one missing, and the rest covered in blood, cuts, burns and various other marks left from a battle) the Lestrange brothers had grabbed them and removed their memories of the raid into a penseive Theo's father was holding. Dolohov and Rookwood had dragged Malfoy Senior off after the Lestranges and Thaddeus left, and the healer Death Eaters had taken Draco and Vince, leaving two behind to make sure Theo, Montague, and Flint were alright.

It was undoubtedly frustrating for the healers; they could see the wounds and could not ask them any questions. After all, they would not know the answers. All Theo could remember was a distinct feeling of dread, an uneasy, squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach that indicated they were all in deep shite. But why...? What had happened on their raid? Where was Derrick? There wasn't much time to dwell on it before a series of pops next to them heralded the arrival of another raid group: Warrington's team.

If it was possible, they were in even worse shape than Theo's group. (Except, as far as he could tell, no one was missing.) Warrington was leaning on Higgs, both boys covered in various welts, scrapes, cuts, and burns. Warrington had a huge gash in his forehead that was bleeding heavily into his eyes, unchecked. Higgs's eyes were periodically shutting then snapping open as he fought to maintain consciousness, Goyle was out cold, and Bole was cradling a clearly broken arm. And Pansy...well, Pansy just looked furious. Bloody, but furious.

In fact--Theo squinted closer at her as another team of Death Eater Mediwizards surged over to the new arrivals--the blood didn't seem to be her own. There were no marks to indicate anything had happened to her.

Again the Lestrange brothers and Thaddeus Nott appeared with the pensieve, again the memories were extracted, and again the worst off, injury wise, were taken away by healers.

This left Flint, Montague, himself, and a spitting-mad Pansy. Not that she recalled what she was spitting mad about.

The four of them were patched and silent, either because they were outraged or brooding. Frustration was felt by all; frustration at their inability to ascertain exactly what had happened in the last--Theo checked his watch and did a double take--two hours of their lives. Frustration on the Healers' part to be unable to help them properly. But more than any of that was the horrible, gnawing fear that plagued them.

Something had gone very, very wrong. Draco and Crabbe looked to be on the verge of death, and even more ominously, Derrick was missing.

"Well, this is complete and utter bollocks," Pansy snapped, startling them all.

(One of the Healers had even shrieked aloud, before the scornful looks of his peers made him blush.)

"They take away our memories and expect us to just sit here? While telling us nothing?" she demanded of no one in particular.

Flint was starting to scowl, his frightening features twisting more and more threateningly.

Theo felt a panicked urge to tell Pansy to shut her mouth before Flint did something. He didn't know what Flint would do, or even in fact, why he felt so unaccountably nervous around Marcus, but he had the distinct impression it had something to do with the blank parts of his memory. In fact, now that he looked at Flint...wasn't the amount of blood covering him disproportionate to his wounds...? Theo repressed a shudder.

"I'm not staying here a second longer," Pansy ranted on," it's going to take them hours to watch our memories, and I'm tired. I'm going to my chambers," she declared with such force that the weak protestations by the Healers were quelled with one hard look from her.

She turned to the three boys, her hands on her hips.

"Well?" she demanded. "Aren't you coming?"

Flint continued to glare, but acquiesced anyway. Theo and Aidan trailed behind the diminuative form of Pansy and the hulking form of Flint. Aidan caught Theo's arm before he could apparate away, the twin cracks of Flint's and Pansy's departures ringing in their ears.

"I'm following you to your room," Aidan said in a low voice.

(One characteristic shared by every Death Eater: paranoia. There wasn't a soul in sight.)

Theo nodded, and they apparated away to the fifth floor of the castle, right outside Theo's door. (Anti-apparation wards were in place for every bedroom to ensure privacy.) Theo pulled out his wand, unlocked his doors, and ushered Aidan inside.

Scarcely had the door shut and silencing charms put in place did Aidan turn to him.

"It was obviously Malfoy's fault," he sad, his eyes boring into Theo's intently. "He was leading us, and he was brought in unconscious. Derrick and Crabbe fucked up too," he added.

"Where do you think Derrick is?" Theo interrupted.

"I'm sure he's dead," Aidan said shortly.

Theo reeled a bit at that. Sure, he had had nasty, lingering suspicions that that was why their (dubious) friend was missing, but to have it said out loud like that....

"That's not important," Aidan continued roughly.

His eyes were blazing. Theo had never seen his friend so upset.

"The important thing is: did WE fuck up?" Aidan said, fixing Theo with a shaken look. "I don't give a bloody flying fuck if Flint did, but what about us? What if the Dark Lord decides to make examples of us?"

The same monstrous thoughts that Theo had been contemplating had been spoken.

"I'm sure," Theo's voice cracked; he cleared his throat then continued, "I'm sure we will be given another chance, even if we did," he said unconvincingly.

"Oh sure, maybe you will be," Montague said bitterly, "your father's in the inner circle, and Pansy wants you to be her little shag toy. But what about me?"

"Your father gives much to the cause," Theo attempted to reassure his friend.

"Only money," Aidan said, still more bitterly. "But you and I both know what the Dark Lord really wants and needs is manpower, and my father, and his brother, and my cousins were too cowardly to join. I'm sure I'd be perfect to be made an example of."

Theo frowned.

"You're not thinking straight," he said to Montague. "Killing you wouldn't scare them, it would make them angry. Angry people join the resistance."

Aidan visibly relaxed a fraction.

"You're right," he said, his mouth turning upwards in a tiny smile, "as always. Thank you, Theo."

Theo nodded. There was really nothing else to say. Now they had to wait for the inner circle to view their memories, and then be summoned. The two friends sat in silence. Words, and sleep, would no doubt evade both of them until then.

*******************************

After an interminable silence, a knock echoed from the door, reverbrating through the room. Theo and Aidan sat motionless, locking eyes. Theo was quite sure the fear in his friend's eyes was mirrored in his own.

The knock sounded again, louder, and clearly impatient.

At some point, Theo lost control of his body and was astonished to find himself up and sliding back the deadbolts on the door, along with a muttered spell to render his locking charms useless.

Theo looked over his shoulder at Aidan, who was sitting in a chair, hunched forward. Holding his breath, he flung open the door.

The air whooshed out of his lungs when he recognized Pansy.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" snapped Aidan, who had joined him at the door, from over Theo's shoulder.

Pansy looked equally annoyed.

"What are you doing here, Montague? Don't you have your own room?"

Theo interceded before the two could start another round of their constant bickering.

"What is it, Pansy?" he asked neutrally.

"I was hoping to find you alone," she snapped, glaring at Aidan.

"Well, obviously, Parkinson," Aidan interrupted. "Back for round two of Operation Seduce Nott?"

Pansy gave a small, undecipherable smile.

"No," she said quietly, "Bellatrix and Mr. Lestrange want to see him in my quarters immediately."

Aidan snorted his disbelief.

"And I wonder...will the two of you discover the mysterious absence of the Lestranges once you get there? And a few hundred lit candles?" he jeered.

"You seem quite fixated on this theme, Montague," Pansy sneered, "one only wonders...is it because you want me, or is because you want Theodore?"

"How about because I don't want my best mate involved with a soul-sucking slag?" Aidan said ruthlessly, his eyes flashing.

Pansy stared at Montague a moment in silence, than laughed.

"There may be hope for you yet, Montague. You can come to my quarters as well. The Lestranges wanted to speak with you anyway."

"Why?" Theo interjected at last, his heart racing. "Why do they want to speak to us?"

"I don't know," Pansy said irritably. "They came to my room and said they wanted to speak to all of us who had gone on the raids."

"All of us?" repeated Aidan.

"No," stated Pansy, "only the three of us and Flint. They said they would deal with the rest of them afterwards." They all shuddered against their will.

"Well, best not to keep them waiting," Theo said, summoning every ounce of courage in his body. "Where is your room, Pansy?"

"Eighth floor, West wing, near the library," she declared.

Aidan and Theo stepped out of the room, Theo replacing the locking spells, and the three apparated away.

They had all apparated to different spots along the corridor; after all, "eighth floor, West wing near the library" covered quite an expanse of hallway. Pansy made an impatient gesture from up the corridor at the two of them, as they converged outside her door.

"Now, I know this concept is difficult for you to grasp, Montague, but do try your hardest not to do anything stupid," she whispered harshly.

"Same to you," Aidan retorted rudely.

They went inside, Pansy and Aidan jostling each other and glaring, Theo trailing silently behind.

Theo blinked twice, before he confirmed to himself that no, he had not just wandered into a vat of grapes. Aidan made a disgusted noise at Pansy's choice in décor from in front of him, before falling silent at the figures on the chaise lounge.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Two of the Dark Lord's most powerful and influential members of the Death Eaters. Theo had so far managed to escape their attention until, unfortunately, now.

A large, hulking shape occupied a flouncy purple chair adjacent to the Lestranges. Anyone else would've looked ridiculous in that chair, but he was Marcus Flint. He defied convention. He, like Theo and Aidan, had not yet changed out of his blood-soaked tattered robes. Idly, Theo wondered if Flint was bleeding on Pansy's chair and if so, who would win in a battle between the two once Pansy noticed.

Pansy, of course, had changed to elegant robes of midnight blue, and not a strand of hair or a smudge of makeup was out of place.

"Come in and sit," Rodolphus Lestrange commanded in his harsh, hoarse voice.

In a moment of rare confidence, Thaddeus, Theo's father, had told him that the screaming in Azkaban must have don't that to Lestrange's voice; it had been smooth, even charming beforehand.

The three of them sat down on the paisley purple couch Lestrange had indicated, the one that was straight across from himself and his wife, and to the right of Flint.

Silence reigned. Theo squirmed on the couch as it drew on. Aidan shifted uncomfortably beside him. Even Pansy looked ruffled. Flint, of course, looked as blank as always.

"I suppose you are wondering why you're here," Lestrange said unexpectedly.

They jumped (Theo) started (Aidan) flinched (Pansy) and remained immobile (Flint) respectively. Lestrange was apparently waiting for one of them to answer. Theo proceeded to stare at Pansy's heinous purple rug so as to avoid eye contact.

"Yes, I know I am wondering, Mr. Lestrange," Pansy said finally. Her usually snotty tone was absent, and she seemed humble and respectful.

Theo could feel Lestrange's gaze boring into him, and sure enough, when he looked up, Lestrange was eyeing them all beadily. Theo refused to look anywhere near Bellatrix. He didn't think Pansy would take kindly to him having a heart attack on her couch.

"Well," Lestrange said slowly in his raspy voice, drawing out the tension and then stopping.

He's toying with us, Theo thought suddenly. He's enjoying this. He's making us suffer as much as possible.

"What happened to Derrick?" Theo blurted out against his will.

This response seemed more to Lestrange's liking. He smiled, his eyes dead and his teeth bared.

"So one of you has some courage after all," he said, amused. "Tell me, are you all afraid of me?" They confirmed what was already obvious with four nodding heads. "Good," Lestrange said, and indeed, he seemed delighted. "I did not wish to speak well of a bunch of fools."

"Darling," Bellatrix said, finally breaking her silence, "the pensieve?"

"Ah, of course. Flint, bring it here, it's over there," he gestured to a table half hidden in shadow.

Theo knew what was coming and he didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified. The four junior Death Eaters drew their wands, and retrieved their memories. Instantaneously the raid came back to Theo, and he knew they were about to be killed. Aidan looked shell-shocked, Pansy looked furious, her lips pursed, and Flint looked alarmed. That, more than anything, fed Theo's fear.

The Lestranges laughed together at their reactions.

"We're not going to kill you little boys, so there is no need to be so afraid," Bellatrix said. "And there's no reason to be angry, Pansy dear, they will be dealt with."

"Dealt with?" Aidan burst out, his voice much higher pitched than usual.

"Not you three," Rodolphus said, rolling his eyes, "the others. In fact, we have brought you four here to commend you."

Theo's draw dropped against his will.

"We--meaning the Dark Lord's inner circle of course, have reviewed the memories of all eleven of you on the raid. Excepting Derrick, who's dead. No, no need to explain yourselves," Lestrange continued when Flint, Theo and Aidan had all opened their mouths, "you did the right thing to leave him behind. Our Lord is pleased. Pansy, of course," here he paused to look at her fondly, "acted far better a Death Eater than any of the rest of you. Yet if it had not been for you three, our Lord would not have received the data needed, and you all would have been captured or killed. We were very happy with your performance."

"Lucius was not pleased," Bellatrix interjected, her expression and tone indicating that this had amused her immensely. "He is fortunate," she continued, "that Draco is receiving far more lenient a treatment then he would've had he been the son of anyone else."

"He will not lead a raid again, of course," Rodolphus said. "We're putting you in charge of your team next raid, Montague. Nott and Flint will be your second in commands. Pansy, you will lead your team instead of Warrington next time. It was only the four of you that acted less than imbecilic. The rest of your teams will be dealt with accordingly. You may leave."

Theo rose, stunned. They weren't in trouble? They were, in fact, being praised by some of the Dark Lord's most influential followers?

"Pansy, go retrieve the others and bring them here," Rodolphus instructed.

After a sickly sweet "Yes, Mr. Lestrange," Pansy left the room, trailed by Flint, Aidan, then Theo.

"Oh, Theodore," Bellatrix said suddenly, when he was halfway out the door, "stay for a minute."

Theo looked at Aidan in alarm, but Bellatrix was already waving her wand to slam the door shut. Theo jumped back barely in time to avoid a broken nose. He turned slowly to face the Lestranges, as one would to their would-be executioners. They both looked amused. Theo was completely unaware if this was a good or a bad thing.

"Sit," Rodolphus gestured again.

He sat.

"We did not want to say this in front of the others," Rodolphus explained, "because they do not need to know what we are about to say."

He fixed Theo with a stern look, who nodded his understanding.

"We really wanted it to be you leading the raid, instead of Montague, but we were overruled." Rodolphus looked irritable. "While your father agreed with Bellatrix and I, I'm afraid the others all chose Montague instead."

"Ridiculous," Bellatrix muttered mutinously, that frightening gleam flashing momentarily in her eyes. "Absolutely absurd. If it had not been for you, the raid would've been a disaster. You kept your head, you challenged Flint when no one else would, and only you managed to avoid being knocked unconscious by the Aurors."

Rodolphus was nodding the whole time his wife was speaking. "We shall take the matter up with the Dark Lord, dearest," Rodolphus said firmly.

Theo almost threw up, but he managed not to visibly react.

"You will be second in command to Montague, but your real assignment is making sure Flint controls himself better."

Theo felt sure he could not possibly have heard Rodolphus correctly.

"The rest of them were too scared to speak out, so we are relying on you," Rodolphus finished, more than a slight threat to his voice. "That will be all, Theodore."

Theo rose again from the hideous paisley couch as removed from reality as if he were underwater. He had almost made it to the door for the second time, just one step away to (relative) freedom...

"Oh, and Theodore," Bellatrix's voice rang out clearly.

He cringed, slowly turning again to face the Lestranges.

"Don't think we did not notice your uneasiness about the raid. You were clearly uncomfortable with killing and death and carnage." Bellatrix was smiling a little, her teeth sharp and her eyes unamused. "We are overlooking this for now, you are young and it was your first real raid. Do not do it again."

Theo nodded. Even if he wanted to, there was absolutely nothing he could say.

****************************

It was his third time, already, as hard as it was to believe. The first two Mudblood giftings had been underwhelming, to say the least. Only around six Mudbloods each time, and those six only offered to the top tier of the inner circle. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had forgone choosing a Mudblood at the first offering, but the second time they had chosen a mousy looking young women. Theo had never seen her again. She was alive still, by all accounts, but she probably wished she wasn't. He tried not to think about what they made her do.

Theo's own father hadn't even been offered a chance at a Mudblood either time, so it was no wonder Theo's motley crew of comrades had never gotten their chance for the reward.

Sometimes, Theo wondered if his father would've taken a Mudblood if given the chance. He liked to pretend that he wouldn't, but he liked to pretend a lot of things that weren't true about his father.

It was the third time and Theo had already memorized the ceremony. Praise for the Dark Lord, rules for conduct with the Mudbloods, who was on the list for deserving Mudbloods, then the actual showing of the Mudbloods. They would be taken out in a line, their legs shackled together, and their hands shackled together as well.

Each Mudblood would be shoved forward into prominence, a Death Eater's wand poking into their lower back, and Wormtail would read off of his list information about each Mudblood. First basic things, their name, their age, occupation, and their house name (if they had gone to Hogwarts.)

Then, the more unsavory part, the part that made Theo's stomach churn and his skin crawl with revulsion. Physical attributes of the Mudbloods. Talents the Mudbloods had. Suggestions on how the Mudblood would be best used. It was like Wormtail was auctioning off horses to them. If horses were occasionally used as sex slaves, anyway.

Following that, more warnings about what would happen if they disobeyed their Lord's wishes. Finally, Wormtail would again read the names of those worthy of a Mudblood, yet this time he would call the names in a predetermined order. The first name was the Death Eater that had most pleased the Dark Lord, so they were rewarded first choice. Then Wormtail would read the second name, and so on and so forth, until there were no Mudbloods left.

Theo stood at attention as Wormtail began the familiar ceremony, Aidan at his side as always, Pansy on his other side, his mind wandering aimlessly. He snapped to attention abruptly about half way through the initial reading of the Death Eater names rewarded a Mudblood.

"Pansy Parkinson, Death Eater number 3-3-7-2," Wormtail read in his squeaky voice.

As one, every head of every Death Eater snapped to Pansy. It was almost comical. Less comical was the next name read.

"Aidan Montague, Death Eater number 1-6-8-1."

Aidan visibly stared in surprise at that, and he and Theo exchanged dumbfounded expressions. It wasn't only that Aidan had made the list; it was that this signaled his rise in the Death Eater ranks. A distant part of Theo's brain registered that he would no longer be standing near his friend when the Death Eaters gathered. Aidan would have moved to a more important spot.

His astonishment almost made him miss the next name entirely.

"Marcus Flint, Death Eater number 2-9-3-5."

Theo looked over at Flint, a few Death Eaters away to his left, but Flint's expression was completely unreadable.

"And last," Wormtail concluded, "Theodore Nott, Death Eater number 6-7-1-1."

Theo wondered if he was in the middle of a nightmarish dream. It Wormtail had not also read out their numbers, he would've surely convinced himself that he had heard the small man say Thaddeus Nott. But the number clinched it.

While secrecy was all but extinct within the Death Eater ranks themselves, outside of it the unknown Death Eaters identities were protected. Therefore, they were all assigned a completely random three or four digit number (the inner circle had three digits, while the outer circle had four) so they could be referred to in front of others without revealing their true identities.

This was imperative for the group of spies. They alone were never referred to as anything other than their numbers, even among the other Death Eaters; their real names were unknown. The numbers were random so that even if an Auror or just a lucky eyewitness who got away had heard it, there would be no pattern, no way of guessing who the Death Eater truly was. Not that there were many alive to report the numbers to the Ministry of Magic in the first place.

Theo was obscurely aware that Warrington, Bole, Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy and Higgs were all staring at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pansy smiling at him, her grin remarkably similar to that of a shark.

"Move to the front," Wormtail instructed; his voice thin.

Theo only got moving after Pansy linked her arm through his and dragged him forwards to where the other Death Eaters named had gathered. Still, Theo clung to the thought that he surely wouldn't get the chance at a Mudblood. For one, more Death Eaters were always named then there were Mudbloods. This was twofold: there were Death Eaters who passed up their chance at a Mudblood, and it also informed the Death Eaters who was doing things right, even if they hadn't received a Mudblood as a reward.

So Theo figured he was one of the excess Death Eaters named as a backup. After all, the last two Mudblood giftings had had less than ten Mudbloods each time, and Wormtail had just named at least thirty of them. Besides, he had been named last. He reassured himself of these facts over and over, even when they brought out the most captured Mudbloods yet; sixteen. Pansy, Flint, Aidan, himself...they were all chosen to make sure enough backup Death Eaters were in place. And perhaps as a jab at the poor jobs done by Warrington and Malfoy.

Theo managed to convince himself of this all the way through Wormtail's readings of the Mudbloods uses and attributes, and all the way until they were eight Mudbloods in, and Wormtail read off the next ranked Death Eater.

"Number 3-3-7-2."

Pansy stepped forward. Theo's mouth went dry.

"Do you wish to accept a gift from our Lord?" Wormtail asked her, just as he had asked every chosen Death Eater at every Mudblood ceremony.

"Yes," Pansy replied, her voice ringing clear. "I claim that one."

She pointed at a young, good looking Mudblood that had graduated from Hogwarts--a Hufflepuff, Theo thought he remembered Wormtail saying--some years before.

Wormtail gestured at Jugson, who was in charge, along with Travers, of keeping the Mudbloods behaved. Jugson roughly grabbed the young man by the arm and dragged him over to Pansy.

He was tall and sandy haired, lean and absolutely terrified. Theo had always wondered how much the Mudbloods would talk, or scream, if they had not had Silencio cast on them.

"Mudblood," Wormtail said, attempting to sound threatening and failing as always, "you are now the property of Death Eater 3-3-7-2."

Jugson held the young man while Travers cast a spell on a steel band and fit it around the Mudblood's neck as his collar. Pansy's number had been etched into the band. Travers attached a chain to the collar and handed it over to Pansy, whose eyes were gleaming.

"Death Eaters," Wormtail said to them, just as he did every time a Mudblood was claimed, "Mudblood number twenty, Henry Dukes, is now the sole property of Death Eater 3-3-7-2. You will not touch or harm Mudblood number twenty in any way, unless given permission by Death Eater 3-3-7-2, or you will suffer the Dark Lord's wrath." Everyone in the room shuddered a little at that.

Pansy's part done, she yanked on her Mudblood's chain and led him back to her spot in the circle like a puppy. Poor Henry Dukes looked shell-shocked, Theo thought, before repressing his disloyal line of thinking. He tensed when Wormtail called the next Death Eater's name, his stomach clenching, and he breathed a small sigh of relief when the Death Eater was one of the spies. It was not Professor Snape, who had already been called second (not that Theo was supposed to know who he was) and had declined a Mudblood just like he did every other time.

As Wormtail went through the monotonous claiming ceremony again, Theo reasoned with himself some more. Sure, Pansy had been called, but hadn't the Lestranges had far more praise for her than for the rest of them? Besides, there were now only seven Mudbloods left, and almost twenty Death Eaters not yet called.

He kept repeating this over and over to himself, with increased confidence, when the next two Mudbloods were dispensed with, until he heard "Death Eater 6-7-1-1" again.

His blood ran cold. If he cut open a vein right now, he was sure it would be frozen solid. Everything slowed down to a snail's pace, as he stepped forward, looking wildly at the five Mudbloods left. They were all staring at him strangely, and it wasn't until later, when he was back in his room that he realized why.

They wanted him to claim them. All of them did. Somehow, they saw in him a less horrifying master than any other Death Eater left, and they were silently begging him to choose them. Once he realized this, Theo came to regret his next decision.

"Do you wish to accept a gift from our Lord?" Wormtail asked him.

Theo frantically tried to remember what Snape had said. Wormtail stared at him expectantly. The Mudbloods still stared at him strangely. He could feel the inner circle's eyes on him.

"I am grateful for our Lord's generous offer, but at this time I will decline my gift," Theo croaked out in a jumbled rush, verbatim of Snape's response from every gifting.

Wormtail merely nodded and moved on to Aidan. Theo was too relieved to really register who it was that was now being offered a Mudblood, but when he did, a new idea occurred to him, which horrified him much more than his friend's current predicament.

He knew why he had been called over Flint, but why over Montague? Montague was to be raid leader next time. He was higher in command. Theo turned slowly to the inner circle, faintly aware that Montague was now repeating Theo's speech. He was right. The Lestranges were both starting at him, their expressions unreadable. Rodolphus gave a tiny nod, which Theo automatically returned.

"We shall take the matter up with the Dark Lord, dearest," echoed in his head in a loop.

He was going to throw up. There was no doubt that he was going to throw up, here, now, in the circle. He was going to throw up and the Lestranges were still staring at him and they had already voiced their doubts about his mettle, and somehow, someway, Theo forced his expression into a painful smirk while he locked eyes with Malfoy, who had turned the color of a boiled ham. A boiled ham that was two seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum. He reached his spot next to Pansy and her Mudblood, still smirking in an excruciating manner, then faced front.

Dear Salazar, the Lestranges were still staring at him. Now, however, they were both smiling. Coldly, but that's the only way they did smile, and Theo smiled wider, afraid he might now look manic.

Aidan was returning, and his face had adopted a smirk of it's own as he stared at their fellow young Death Eaters. Only someone who knew Montague as well as Theo did would recognize his expression to be as fake as his own had been. They had done a dangerous thing, turning down the Dark Lord's gift when they were still essentially Junior Death Eaters, and now they had to convincingly play the part. None of these thoughts occurred to Theo at the time he was being offered a Mudblood, of course. He had simply had a knee jerk reaction of revulsion at the thought of owning another person--Mudblood, he sharply corrected himself, Mudblood, and he had had the shrewd suspicion Montague's knee had jerked in the same way as his. Flint's knee, however, had done no such jerking, and he was now leading a blonde girl, kind of on the plain side but looking vaguely familiar back to his spot in the circle.

Theo's brow furrowed as he stared at the girl. He knew he didn't know her, he had never recognized a single captured Mudblood (a fact which he was profoundly grateful of) and Wormtail had said she had gone to Beauxbatons anyway. Maybe that's where he knew her from. Maybe she had come with Fleur Delacour and the other wannabe Triwizard Champions his fourth year at Hogwarts. But no...Theo racked his brain. No. Wormtail hadn't said she had gone to Beauxbatons, Wormtail said she was going to Beauxbatons now.

As the ceremony plodded onward Theo glanced at Aidan. He was staring at the girl too, far more intently than Theo had been. He looked stunned. Theo watched Flint stare at Montague until Aidan noticed and met his gaze. Theo was completely baffled. Aidan's look was clearly asking Flint what the bloody fuck did he think he was doing, while Flint's was clearly asking if Montague was having a problem. Aidan broke their eye contact, dropping his head and shaking it. In fact, Warrington was looking strangely at Flint, and so was Higgs, and in fact, so was--Theo turned his attention back to the front of the room and joined in with the clapping and praising of their Lord automatically. He'd almost figured it out, and then he lost it. No matter, he would ask Aidan later.