The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

Overtures of Obsession

The icy winds of early December howled across the battlements of Hogwarts, whipping Hades' traveling cloak into frenzied snaps and coils as he hurried through the covered bridge linking the greenhouses to the central courtyards. Even with the thick wool and fur lining, he shivered against the biting chill.

"M'lord! A moment, please!"

The gruff shout preceded the thunderous clanking of the Dansker bodyguards' armored boots against the flagstones. Hades slowed his pace, allowing the hulking knights to re-form their protective phalanx around him before he resumed walking.

"You needn't urge haste," rumbled the senior knight, his griffon-headed helm glinting dimly in the wintry gloaming. "Young Master Malfoy has secured our travel authorization for the coming village sojourn."

A rare pang of exasperation tugged at Hades' chest. Ever since Sirius Black's unprecedented breach of the castle's defenses during the autumn, Draco had become increasingly overbearing about security protocols. His possessive streak toward their friendship had ratcheted into an outright obsession where Hades' personal liberties were concerned. Still, he understood the precarious position they occupied as two of the Death Eaters' most prized assets among Dumbledore's ranks. With a measured nod, Hades waved for his mailed escorts to follow as they crossed the viaduct spanning the deep chasm between the greenhouses and central keep.

Within the bustling entry hall, a loose cluster of students milled in clumps awaiting dismissal for the weekend's first Hogsmeade visit of the year. Vendors hawked roasting nuts and mugs of steaming cider which wafted mouth-watering scents through the crowd. Several upperclassmen Gryffindors openly gawked and shrank away as Hades and his clanking entourage approached. Already accustomed to being gawked at like a sideshow attraction, the young Slytherin paid them little mind as he sought out the familiar platinum hair.

Draco stood at ease with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, idly toying with a furled length of parchment between his fingers as he scanned the throngs of students. As always, the blonde aristocrat looked impeccably turned out in his sweeping winter cloak lined with mink fur. When he caught sight of Hades, his expression morphed into a sweeping sneer warped by something almost akin to...hunger?

"Snape," he inclined his chin in the barest hint of acknowledgment. Hades bristled almost imperceptibly at his friend's casual use of his surname rather than their customary familiarity. Before he could voice any objection, however, Draco continued in a smooth drawl.

"Walk with me."

He spun on his booted heel and set off across the entry hall, not even bothering to look back and verify Hades fell into step. His Dansker knights shifted into their escort formation, completely encircling their charge in an unbreakable ring of steel and flexing muscle as they trailed in Draco's imperious wake.

"The map, Hades," Draco finally murmured once they'd exited the main keep and started across the grounds toward the front gates.

Understanding flickered in Hades' brilliant green eyes and he reached beneath his robes to extract the battered length of parchment stuffed into his back pocket. Draco accepted it with a slight curl of his lip, appraising the jumbled diagram with sneering disdain.

"You secured this from those filthy Weasleys, I take it? Such disdain for their family's poverty knows no bounds..."

"Peace, old friend," Hades cautioned mildly. Though he tried to mask his revulsion at the thought of interacting with the Weasleys and their ilk. "Coveting dark treasures hidden behind enemy lines simply shows strategic resourcefulness, not fraternization."

The excuse seemed to placate Draco, if only just. The pale Slytherin's features settled back into his customary aristocratic mask as they progressed through the winding path flanked by towering stone pillars and hedgerows. At length, the streets of the quaint village came into view ahead between the swirling hillocks and snow-covered copses of trees. Hogsmeade itself seemed almost a rustic anachronism of cobbled lanes and thatched roofs nestled in a highland valley overlooked by the ancient school. Gusts of woodsmoke wafted from the chimneys clustered along High Street, beckoning all with the promise of mulled wine and savory warmth.

Sidling up to the haphazard line of professors and ministry Aurors checking names and securing permissions, Draco drew out the Marauder's Map with a flourishing gesture. "Might I introduce our newest village pass, gentlemen?"

The sudden hush that fell over the line of waiting students indicated the enormity of Draco's declaration. Even the weathered instructor from the Ministry seemed taken aback for a moment before extending a hand coated in dust from the map's charms.

"Marauder's Parchments are prohibited by school guidelines, Master Malfoy," he growled in warning. "Should this artifact prove compromised in any way, it will be seized immediately."

Draco simply smirked with all the insolent arrogance afforded by his pedigree and connections. "Of course, of course. Though I daresay your detection charms will find its contents...scrupulously legitimate. The Weasley twins lack the cunning to cook up any truly respectable treachery."

As if to emphasize his point, Draco flourished his wand in an aggravatingly elaborate series of passes and twirls. A ghostly shimmer rippled across the worn parchments' surface before the telltale flowing ink reemerged - a perfectly replicated map of the village itself. With an evaluating squint, the auror gave a grudging nod before handing the document back to Draco.

"It will require re-certification before your next visit," he sighed, waving the two Slytherins through with their cohort of bodyguards. "But for now, do try to enjoy your sojourn...without any undue scandals, eh?"

"You wound me with your lack of faith, sir!" Draco tossed a jaunty salute over his shoulder before seamlessly melding into the caravan of students flooding down the winding lane into the village proper.

As the crisp winter air began to tinge their cheeks with ruddy color, Hades allowed his attention to drift between Draco's animated chattering as they strolled together and the goings-on sketched in the flickering map. At one point, he blinked twice to verify he'd seen Sirius Black's name briefly materialize near the runic outline of the Shrieking Shack before vanishing just as abruptly. But the fleeting glimpse left Hades' heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

The rest of the afternoon carried feverish energy, with the rowdy atmosphere of students cutting loose amidst the seasonal celebrations and increasingly numbing indulgences of Butterbeer. Hades found himself first browsing the dimly lit shelves of Tomes & Scrolls, filling a wicker basket with obscure tomes on Dark Divination. Then he was propelled along by Draco's careless enthusiasm, guided through an endless whirlwind of browsing sweetshops, sampling the wares from raucous pubs, and engaging in childish games of gallivanting mischief.

As sunset began slipping over the emerald hills and valleys surrounding the village, Hades found their party crowded around one of the raucous common rooms packed with other students at the Three Broomsticks. A blazing fire roared in the hearth and pitchers of frothing Butterbeer were levitated to every crowded table amidst rambunctious laughter and caroling.

"Black tried to convince everyone that Peter Pettigrew was the one who killed the Potters!" A wand-slim woman said, drinking a cup of mead. "It was such a preposterous excuse! They found Pettigrew's finger, poor man was tortured by Black."

Her cohorts all nodded solemnly over their tankards, whether believing the harrowing tale or simply obliging their superior's gossip, Hades couldn't discern. But his interest was instantly piqued at the mention of Sirius Black and Pettigrew's name.