“Is that a fact?” Draco asked, leaning back against the table in an illusion of casualness and instead managed to rest three fingers on the very tip of his wand. He was surprised to find Marcus out here in the public, he’d even been a coward with the entire host of Voldemort at his side and now he was standing alone in front of a man who’d ranked higher then god in that army. “And what may that offer be?” Marcus smiled, a hideous thing due to his grossly oversized teeth that made him look like some kind of beast. Students at Hogwarts had always wondered if it was the cause of a curse or unhappy chance but had always been too frightened to ask. Stupid as he was, Marcus had a certain knack at curses and had perfected many that were only learned in the 7th year by the time he’d simply gotten his Hogwarts acceptance. “Do you really need to ask?” he responded, leaning in closer to conspirationally whisper. “The Dark Lord. It is time for him to return.” With a snort, Draco turned his back on the man and magically summoned forward another set of balls to place on the pool table. He was an idiot, a raving madman who’d lost his mind in the final battles when their defeat had became certain. There were a few of those around, and the Ministry normally left them alone to lower the image of the Dark Arts with their antics. That would explain why he and Harry, or any other Aurors for that matter, had not been tapped to hunt Marcus down. The other man, however, seemed to take no offense and simply walked around the table so he was facing Draco once again. When he remained silent it became clear he was still expecting an answer, so Draco gave him one filled with scorn. “Voldemort is dead and gone. That was made final with Dumbledore’s sacrifice, for you know as well as I when two have been life bonded by a spell that if one falls then the other too, shall die.” “No!” Marcus hissed, so loud he drew the attention of some of the other members of the bar. He seemed to take notice to this and lowered his voice the next time he spoke. “I do not believe that Dumbledore is gone either, though I wouldn’t say it to any of the other members of the Brotherhood. Some powers cannot be quenched, no matter how powerful the spell or charm placed upon them is.” For a moment Draco felt something swell inside him, not really hope but not really fear either. Those were words that had been playing in his mind for some time now, and hearing them out loud had an enormous effect on them. Trying to shake the feeling, he began probing the rest of Marcus’ speech for errors, trying to convince himself once again that he was simply a mad man. “Brotherhood?” With an eager nod, Marcus leaned in close once again. “Yes!” he said in the same hissy voice, “we are the ones who will return the Dark Lord to power! And then WE will return to power, there is no one left in this world to oppose us. Even the Aurors are coming over to our side, whether they know our true purpose or not. Longbottom, Griffin, Johnson... and we have a new member, Draco.” At this Marcus’ grin stretched even wider, into some perverse mockery of joy. “We have Salazar.” There was a clatter as Draco’s pool stick hit the ground.