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Cornelius Fudge sat in his office chair and made a mental checklist. People could call it superstition if they wanted - everything that happened around him always seemed overly burdened with meaning.

On the one hand, he didn't have to wait for the lifts when he arrived after lunch: he was going straight to the top.

On the other hand, those little departmental memos were flying about his head the entire ride - he'd be bogged down by bureaucracy along the way.

Aristotle Nott seemed very pleased to see him in the atrium, even going so far as to introduce him (finally, officially, thank Merlin) to a couple prominent businessmen that were with him. Who were they again? Oh yes, those fellows from Quality Quidditch Supplies, Yaxley and Jugson. They seemed like intelligent, respectable men. It was obviously a sign of his excellent leadership that such high-profile people were looking to him so soon after being voted in.

Of course, Amelia Bones of Magical Law Enforcement had been a rare terrifying sight to behold, verbally flaying the hide off a Ministry Records-Keeper. Something about a missing file. Cornelius couldn't decide if this was a sign of things soon to be misplaced in his office, or if things were all going to go to Hell in the Ministry by way of paperwork very shortly.

He glanced at the memos piled atop his desk simply from the last two days and shuddered. Oh, right. The second, definitely. Someone knocked at the door, and he shuddered again.

"Come in," he called, already resigning himself to a long afternoon of interdepartmental hell.

The door swung open, and Chief Auror Scrimgeour stepped into the office.

"Minister," Scrimgeour began. He looked worried.

"Rufus," Cornelius replied, grimacing. He eyed the man, who remained standing by the door. "Well, come in, come in. If you're going to say something I'm not going to like, don't let the rest of the hall hear it."

Scrimgeour nodded and closed the door behind him. "It's about Azkaban, Minister," he said. He visibly steeled himself to deliver the news. "Black is out, sir. And...the Muggles we arrested for killing Harry Potter have been, er, killed."

Cornelius gaped at him. "My dear man. I was assured yesterday that there would be nothing out of sorts at Azkaban again. Now you bring me news like this?" He groaned.

"My Aurors are already looking for him," Scrimgeour said grimly. "He won't get far."

Cornelius nodded faintly. "Good, good."

When Scrimgeour turned to go, however, he called him back quickly.

"Actually, Rufus..." he said, relieved he'd thought of it, "I wouldn't look terribly hard. After all, he did kill Harry Potter's murderers."

"Sir," Scrimgeour protested.

"Besides, how far can a half-starved madman go?"

He smiled, and the Chief Auror nodded grudgingly. "Thank you for your time, Minister. I'll see myself out."

Cornelius closed his eyes and added a decision well-made to his checklist, right on the other side of a mental note reading 'prison break.' Hm. He certainly was good at balancing the good with the bad. Straight to the top, indeed.

**

Lucius and Walden stepped out of the fireplace into the study at Malfoy Manor, chuckling in remembrance of bloody torture just moments earlier.

"There's nothing quite as cathartic, is there?" Lucius asked as he walked to the sideboard to pour them both drinks.

"Can't say that there is," Walden said lazily, seating himself in one of the overstuffed chairs situated around the desk. "Sweet fucking Salazar, Lucius. I might have been the one with the knife, but you had him pissing himself just by talking."

Lucius passed him a snifter of brandy and collapsed into the chair across from his friend. "What can I say? It's a gift." He grinned. "I recognised that work you were doing towards the end. Though I must admit I haven't ever seen Bellatrix carve those patterns. Hers are usually a bit more astrological."

"Where do you think I picked it up?" Walden shot back. "Seems it's not just her, though. I remember Reg doing the same thing, you know. Must be a Black family thing."

"Speaking of Blacks," Lucius said, growing serious, "Bella thinks her cousin might join us."

"Huh." Walden looked down at his empty brandy snifter contemplatively. "Think we should trust him if he does?"

Lucius thought back to the night in Azkaban and the brief exchange of words between the cousins. "Perhaps." His mind was stuck on the cold, overwhelming fury he'd seen in Black's eyes after he'd spoken to the man. "Actually, Walden, I think it's safe to say that Black...has rediscovered his family loyalty."

They were quiet for a moment, reliving old memories.

"It's going to be glorious, seeing Bella and Sirius in action," Walden said wistfully. "I almost feel disloyal saying it, but they'll probably be fiercer than she and Reg were. Sirius might've been a Gryffindor, but he was always the better fighter."

"Do you remember all those duels he and Severus used to get into when we were at Hogwarts?" Lucius said. "Those two. Merlin. I've never seen any two fight harder in a schoolyard duel."

"Now, there's a pair I'd like to see in a friendly duel again, just for old times' sake." Walden smirked. "If they could stop hating each other for just one moment, they'd be an unstoppable team, don't you think?"

"I think it's highly unlikely." Lucius was prevented from saying more as a distinctive, hulking barn owl soared in through the open window to perch on his desk.

"Isn't that Severus's owl?" Walden asked curiously.

The owl glared at Lucius and held out its leg in a wordless order for him to remove the letter attached.

"Yes, speak of the devil. I suppose I should have contacted Severus already," Lucius said with a sigh. "He must be going mad up at that godforsaken school."

He pulled the bindings loose and took the scroll, shaking it open with one hand. As he read the short, angry note, his eyebrows crept towards his hairline. "Damn," he said softly.

"What is it?" Walden asked. He leaned closer.

"Dumbledore is asking questions," Lucius said tersely. He put the note in a pocket and pulled open the stationery drawer in his desk. "It was only sheer luck that he found concealer to put over his Mark this morning - Dumbledore asked to see his arm."

Walden fell back into his seat, swearing angrily. "And we're just leaving him there?"

"We do as our Lord tells us," Lucius snapped. He met Walden's eyes and saw the same worry he felt for the youngest of their order - surely they weren't throwing their little brother into the lion's den again. He softened slightly. "He is the best of us at these games," he pointed out. "And I do not believe that our Lord will just leave him there, as you say, after we tell him what Dumbledore is asking."

Walden nodded reluctantly. "So, who are you writing to?"

"I'm writing to Severus," Lucius said. He dipped a quill into a pot of dark green ink and penned a quick note. "He'll understand it. I'm just telling him what to expect."

"And our Lord?"

"We're going there shortly," he said calmly. He rolled the missive into a small scroll and tied it to the leg of Severus's glowering owl. "We can discuss the matter with him ourselves."

The two men stood to leave as soon as the owl flew back out the window.

"I don't like it, Lucius," Walden said finally. He opened the door of the study and shook his head at his friend. "You know how I am. I can't stand not being able to do anything to help Severus."

"Be that as it may," Lucius replied, grabbing his snakes-head cane and following the executioner out into the hall, "some things simply require patience. Look on the bright side. When Black comes to join us at Riddle House, we can always go with him and Bella to Surrey for a good hunt."

Walden smirked. "I hear Little Whinging is very flammable this time of year."

Their laughter lingered behind in the empty hall, loud cracks of Disapparition echoing off the walls in their absence.

**

Tom stood at the window in his office overlooking the gardens and watched Harry and Draco play on the sprawling lawn together. Well, perhaps 'play' was a bit of a misnomer. Draco stood in what seemed to be his designated 'spot' on the lawn, and he fidgeted impatiently. They both watched Harry crawl toward the large hedges, his face level with the dirt. The sight struck a chord within him that spoke of a childhood memory, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. All he knew was it looked very familiar.

He didn't have to turn to know that the warm presence suddenly at his side was Rabastan. "What do you suppose he's doing down there?" he asked.

"Stalking something, I suppose," Rab said. There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "Rod and I used to play at being mighty hunters when we were young. We'd steal our father's wand and hex the local wildlife. I don't think we got scolded nearly enough as children. Father found it more amusing than anything else."

Tom smiled. "Your father was a good man."

"Yes, he was," Rab said quietly. "Right up until the end."

"I heard you had your revenge," Tom said. He turned away from watching Harry to look Rabastan in the eyes. "Am I correct?"

Rab grinned, a lazy, predatory smile that brightened his whole face. "You might say that the Longbottoms won't be leading any more Ministry raiding parties any more."

They shared a smirk and turned back to their self-appointed task of Harry-watching. The boy was stretched out on his stomach on the wet grass, face and arms deep underneath the hedge.

"That really does look familiar," Tom said. "I can't begin to guess where, though."

They smiled as Draco called out to Harry impatiently before subsiding quickly at some unseen or unheard rebuff issued from under the bushes.

"You're right," Rab observed. "The boy really is like you. He's 'leader' already, and he's just nine years old."

"I'd hardly make him my heir if I thought he'd turn out like his parents," Tom said, "powerful as they were. No, he's a Slytherin if there ever was one."

Two sharp cracks echoed behind them, and the enchanted chime rang out a beat later.

"If that alert wasn't so useful when I'm in other parts of the house," he muttered to Rab as he turned to face the visitors, "I'd shut it off. It drives me up the wall." He looked up and smiled. "Lucius, Walden. What brings you here?"

The pair bowed quickly.

"I received a letter from Severus, my Lord," Lucius said. "Dumbledore is asking him inconvenient questions about the 'suicide'." He grimaced. "He asked Severus if his arm was hurting, my Lord."

"Anyone who understands Dumbledore-speak knows he was asking to see his arm," Tom said angrily. "Damn. He just has to put me in this position, doesn't he?"

"My Lord?" Walden asked. "What is it that Dumbledore is doing, exactly?"

"Dumbledore thinks that Severus is loyal to him," he said. "However, he doesn't expect Severus to keep this from Lucius."

Lucius nodded. "He was like our younger brother in school. We've always looked out for him."

"Exactly. And if news gets to you, Dumbledore figures he can flush out whatever 'Dark Lord' is hiding in the woodwork this time around." He glowered. "I need Severus there as my spymaster - I can't pull him from his post. I can't send anyone to protect him, either, nor can I simply leave him there."

"We could always get one of our people the Defence teaching job next term, my Lord," Rab suggested. "It leaves us at an impasse for the next six months, but we'd have the entire following school year covered."

"I want to place someone at the school," Tom said. "I just don't want to wait that long before he has someone to watch his back. If we knew any Animagi to go undercover..."

"All I can think of is Pettigrew," Lucius sneered. "And he fled."

Rabastan coughed uncomfortably.

"Yes, Rab?" Tom said. He looked suspiciously at his edgy lover.

"Regulus's brother, Sirius, is a dog Animagus, my Lord," Rab answered. "He might join us."

"Is there a reason I wasn't informed of this before now?" he said evenly, struggling to control his temper. "I would think Black rejoining his family is important enough to bother me with the news."

Lucius spoke up. "The fault is mine, my Lord. I should have kept you apprised of the situation better. Bella...seemed to trust Black, so I gave him the opportunity to escape. I fully expect him to join us, sir."

"This will not happen again, Lucius," Tom warned. "I stay my hand only because you have done more for me these past few days than anyone else. However, as my right hand man, mistakes like these cannot be made. Do not keep your own counsel over such matters. Do you understand me?"

Lucius bowed, relief in his eyes. "I do, my Lord. You are most generous."

"If Black does show up here, he'll have to learn to take orders," Tom said. "Do you think he will?"

"He will," Walden said. "My Lord, I trust Bella when it comes to her family. If she thinks her cousin is safe, then he is."

"He'll follow our example," Rab said. "After eight years, we're all he has as family. If we follow you, my Lord, he will as well."

"Good." Tom thought for a moment. "In that case, I'll send him to guard Severus at that school for the remainder of the year. If Pettigrew was unregistered, then Black must not be registered either."

"My Lord," Lucius said warily, "Black and Severus will kill each other before the end of the first week."

Tom shrugged. "They will learn to work together, or I will help them learn that lesson. We cannot be torn apart by petty squabbles."

His followers nodded soberly.

"I'll let Severus know he has a guard coming soon," Lucius said.

"And I'll keep an eye out for Black's dog form," Rab added. "He should be here within a day or so."

Tom opened his mouth to give his approval when a scuffling, whispering noise on the other side of the office door interrupted him.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Her, not it, Draco."

"Her, then. What are you going to do with her?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? I'm going to ask Uncle Thomas if I can keep her."

The four adults exchanged amused glances, and Lucius opened the door. The two children stared up at him, one happily, one much less so. "Draco, Harry," he said, stifling a smile. "How can we help you?"

Draco gulped and looked up at his father nervously, shooting an accusatory glance at his new co-conspirator, who had his arms wrapped around something hidden in his shirt. "Harry, that is, we had a question."

Harry grinned up at the aristocrat. "Hello, Lucius. When did you get here?"

Lucius couldn't hide his smile any longer. "Walden and I arrived perhaps twenty minutes ago, while you were out playing. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Harry said cheerfully. "Hello, Walden. It's nice to see you both."

"It's good to see you, too, Harry," Walden replied. "Have you been behaving?"

"I think so," Harry said. "There are lots of cupboards here, and I still have a bedroom, even though I've been running in the house and making noise, so perhaps I'm allowed to."

Tom noticed Walden's eyes widen, and cut him off before he could ask any questions. "Lucius, why don't you and Walden go tell Augustus about your visit to Igor?"

Lucius nodded, and as soon as Walden had stepped outside the office, Tom said quietly, "Tell him only what you must. I am wary of too many people knowing this secret."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius murmured, and then slipped out the door after his friend.

"Now, Harry," Tom said. He smiled briefly at his adopted nephew's new friend. "What did you want to ask me?"

"When I was out in the garden, I heard someone talking, and then I found her, and she says it gets cold in winter, and she likes me, so can I keep her with me?" Harry said in a rush.

"Heard someone talking?" Tom repeated. He exchanged glances with Rabastan. His lover looked like he was rapidly coming to the same conclusion.

"Yes, and she's really very nice," Harry added. "She says that even when she's grown up, she promises not to eat the house-elves." He reached into the front of his shirt and, as Tom and Rab stared on incredulously, he pulled a long young python out of the neck hole.

"Oh, Mordred," Tom muttered.

Harry and the juvenile snake were nose to nose, hissing at each other quietly.

"What were you saying?" Rab whispered under his breath. "Something about him being more like you than we could possibly know?"

Tom chuckled, and Harry looked up.

"She says I can call her Claret," Harry said eagerly, "because she has red eyes. Her mum says her human disappeared, but he used to drink claret on special occasions." He looked up at Tom pleadingly. "May I keep her? Please?"

Tom dropped into his desk chair in shock. "Nagini?" he whispered. He shook his head and looked up at Harry. "Yes, of course you can keep Claret. I'll send a house-elf to the pet shop to buy some mice for her to eat. Go run and play, you two. We'll see you at dinner."

Harry beamed, and before Tom could brace himself, the boy launched himself into Tom's lap to give him another one of his brief, tight hugs. "Thank you, Uncle Thomas," he murmured. "For everything."

Before Harry could run out the door, Tom unfroze and hugged him back. "No, Harry," he said softly. "Thank /you/."

The boy scrambled off his lap, blushing, but his bright smile lit up the room. "Come on, Draco," he said. "Let's go see what we can find in the attic."

Draco nodded and followed him out the door quickly, remembering at the very last moment to turn back and bow to Tom. The door closed with a soft /click/, and Tom looked up at Rab in bewilderment.

"He's a Parselmouth," Tom said numbly. He grinned. "My boy's a Parselmouth."

Rab laughed. "What do you think the odds of that happening were?"

"Who cares," Tom said. He tugged Rab down into the chair on top of him. "He really is my heir, now."

"Mm." Rab shifted in his seat to straddle Tom's legs. "I heard what you said. What are you going to do? Nagini has probably been waiting for you this whole time." He leaned forward to plant a messy, sucking kiss on Tom's neck.

Tom shivered. "I think...I'll go find her...tomorrow." He grabbed a fistful of Rabastan's dark hair and dragged his face up for a deep kiss.

"Tomorrow, huh?" Rab said, breathing heavily.

"Yes." Tom smirked. "We're still making up for eight years of celibacy, aren't we?"

"Yes, right." Rab looked at him with a gleam of lust in his eyes. "Tomorrow sounds great."

Tom laughed and pulled Rab in for another kiss.