Wander Parkinson was assigned to work under Lucius.
Since they already knew each other, they worked well together.
But as Wander spent more time with Lucius, he noticed something was off.
For one thing, Lucius held the mysterious Behrens in remarkably high regard.
No matter the subject, whenever Lucius mentioned Will Behrens, he had nothing but praise for him.
Top marks, exceptional magical ability, unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord.
Wander Parkinson had seen what Behrens could do during the Triwizard Tournament, but he was still puzzled.
It was not just Lucius. Not one of the Death Eaters who had met or worked with Will had a bad word to say about him. Hearing Death Eaters praise anyone was strange enough on its own.
At first, Wander had merely found it odd. But as time went on, he grew bewildered and began to wonder if he really had been wrong.
After all, even a veteran Death Eater like Yaxley acknowledged Will's abilities and his loyalty to the Dark Lord—and Yaxley was a believer in Pure-blood Supremacy.
"Put it this way: if you'd ever met Behrens, you wouldn't think that." Lucius drew Wander back to the present and handed him a piece of parchment. "This is what you need to do."
Wander took the parchment, skimmed it, and nodded. "Maybe I was wrong," he murmured.
Hogwarts.
Aside from the trouble surrounding Hagrid, nothing else had happened. It was unusually peaceful, and quite a few students had begun to miss last year's Triwizard Tournament.
In the dining hall, Will cut into the meat roll on his plate while pondering the final magical structure of the Despair Curse. He paid no attention to the students who kept glancing his way. Sylvia brought him a glass of grape juice and, seeing his furrowed