Do You See The Light?

"Friends!" Lucius’ voice carried clearly to the outer reaches of the marble room, and the social chit-chat ceased, leaving an almost eery silence in its place. Lucius let it drag on; let the tension grow, a small smile on his face. "Friends," he repeated, and Draco, standing near the back of the room, couldn’t restrain himself from rolling his eyes. That was Lucius, always ready to milk the moment. "We are here today because we share the same dream." Yep, it was going to be the ‘oh the Dark Lord he’s so fine’ speech. The one Draco hated, because it made his father look like the chair of the Witches’ Institute, or something, only instead of exchanging knitting charms and tips on household magic, they got all cosy about that wondrous future where Mudbloods were no longer accepted; where dark magic reigned supreme; and the superiority of pureblood wizards could never again be questioned.

Lucius talked on, exciting the masses into a frenzy, and Draco tried without a great deal of effort to suppress a yawn. But then Lucius moved onto something new, and Draco began to listen.

"As you all know, the future of the wizarding world lies with our children." There was a hum of approval at this sentiment: even the darkest of dark wizards tended to have a soft spot for his child. "And yet," continued Lucius, his tone becoming dark and impressive, "and yet, it is our children who, in these times of strife, are in the most danger!" An excited muttering grew out of this, which Draco noted with not a little interest. This was definitely new, which begged the question, what was Lucius up to now?

"There is a terrible influence being exerted over our children, and we must make moves now to eliminate it and safeguard their future!" More roars of approval, and Draco almost jumped with the realisation of where this had to be going.

"And it’s name…" Lucius paused to extract all possible drama… "is Dumbledore!" The roars quieted; wizards and witches shared hesitant glances, then – somehow – it was as if a wave of approbation spread across the room.

"That’s right!"

"Get rid of the old coot!"

"Mad as butter, anyhow!"

The wave spread, filling every corner of the room, until every person present seemed to be waving and cheering, and calling for the end of Dumbledore. Lucius watched with pleasure as the crowd fed on his bile and spite, and failed to notice that one person wasn’t quite as moved as one would hope. Draco, in the back of the hall, swallowed nervously, looking around him with something that approached uneasiness. This was a little more blatant than anything Lucius had attempted so far. Okay, so Dumbledore was vilified at every conceivable turn. And, yes, several attempts, with variable success, had been made to get him out of Hogwarts. And, fair enough, everyone knew that, if their proposed happy, jolly life with Voldemort was to go ahead as scheduled, someone was going to have to "do something" about Dumbledore. But up till now, it had all been rather hypothetical. Up till now, Draco had felt oddly secure in the balance of power that existed in his world.

"It is Dumbledore who poisons our children’s minds against our great achievements, and plans for the future. Dumbledore who stands between us and a pure wizarding world! That is, until Lord Voldemort triumphs over him." The crowd were too busy cheering to notice Lucius’ backpeddle. Draco wasn’t. He grinned. That was his father, always eager to stay on the right side of the dark lord. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, of course. The forces of darkness had a tendency to keep a close eye on their followers, and were renowned for not being understanding when someone changed his mind. Lucius continued his diatribe. Draco wondered if he could maybe slip out and get a drink. Lucius questioned the purity of Dumbledore’s forebears. Draco played a couple of mental games of noughts and crosses. Lucius announced that he had a plan that would destroy Dumbledore and his allies.

Draco listened.