Lucius was among the stirring bodies, caught between hushed whispers of panic – a single soul among many. As rumors and present evidence had presented, a girl was missing from the crowd, suggested to have been captured or killed or lost; those were the theories at least. Personally, he didn’t care either which way. He wasn’t frightened by the prospect of Death Eaters, not in the slightest by those who he could have called his brethren. Rather, he was draped languidly against a wall, arms crossed without a care. And when eyes were drawn to him, heavy with disgust, he wondered – did that make him a monster? Yes, he supposed, it did.