There was no fire in the study at Lucius Manor. The room was lit by a magical lamp in the corner, its shade dark green. Light spilled from beneath it, spreading across the dark desktop in a watery green glow that was neither warm nor cold. Lucius sat behind the desk, with the letter Lockhart had written spread out before him.
The ink on it had not fully dried yet, glistening in the glow with an oily sheen. He looked at the letter for a while, then turned it over and laid it flat on the desk, smoothing the corners with his fingers. Lockhart had already left to prepare for his public "appearance" three days later. By then, two more Second-Class Orders of Merlin would adorn his blue robes—an honor unprecedented in the history of the entire European Wizarding World. He would become the Shadow Society's most dazzling public figurehead.
Lucius took another sheet of parchment from the drawer. Its contents had already been written, the handwriting neat and the layout even. He read it twice, and after confirming there were no mistakes, placed it beside Lockhart's letter and pinned down the corners with a seal. Three knocks came from outside the door, not loud, but measured.
Lucius looked up and said, "Come in." The door opened, and a young wizard in dark green robes entered. A Shadow Society badge was pinned to his collar. It was inconspicuous under the light, but glowed on its own in dim places.
His gaze moved from Lucius's face to the two letters on the desk, then withdrew.
"The Wizengamot has already learned the news," the young wizard said quietly, as though afraid the walls might overhear. "Several people's attitudes have begun to soften. A few are still hesitating, unsure how good Dumbledore's chances