Lord Slytherin walked to the large window overlooking the Malfoy gardens and rested his hands on the sill, his back to his host."

Although, it occurs to me that, at the time the Dark Lord stopped making public appearances, his organization was still clandestine. His followers wore masks and cloaks and kept their identities hidden. I wonder if those captured Death Eaters who loudly proclaimed their allegiance might not have actually been disobeying their standing orders. Had they actually, in their hearts, given up on their Lord? Do you think the Dark Lord would consider a decade in Azkaban to be sufficient punishment for such disobedience?"

And at the same time, it seemed that most of the captured Death Eaters weren't questioned too thoroughly as to the identities of their comrades. It seems likely that some Death Eaters may have avoided capture and used their political influence to ensure that the damage to the Dark Lord's organization was minimized. Some of them may even have had to renounce their Lord in order to ensure his work continued."

A strangled noise came from the center of the room.

"So, an interesting question. Might a boastful proclamation of loyalty actually be seen as an act of disloyalty, and renouncing one's Lord actually be seen as the truest act of faithfulness?"

A soft thump and gentle clatter caused Lord Slytherin to turn. Lucius Malfoy had collapsed to his knees on the floor before his chair, tears on his face, his wand on the ground where it had rolled from his empty hand.

"My … My Lord …" Lord Slytherin strode across the room, dropped to one knee and placed a hand on his host's shoulder.

"Ah. Forgive me, Lord Malfoy. I am a poor guest to speak of matters and times which must be so distressing for you to recall."