Chapter Two
June 18, 1996
He could never respect an enemy that would allow children to fight their battles for them. There was no honor in fighting children. What could the old fool Dumbledore possibly be thinking to make it possible for six children to wander away from the grounds of the school where they were supposed to be kept safe to fight grown wizards at the Ministry? If Antonin was a parent at that school, he would've seriously been considering what possible steps would need to be taken to get the old man out of the Headmaster's office. This was just negligent!
But he couldn't deny he was impressed by their bravery, no matter how misguided it was. All Gryffindors surely. If there was ever a House that went out their way to commit ridiculously stupid acts to prove unnecessary courage, it was the damned House of Godric Gryffindor. Antonin was proud that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw over thirty years earlier. You wouldn't catch a Ravenclaw participating in a useless act of valor.
Or maybe I'm wrong, he thought when the light shined just enough on the pretty blonde girl's robes. She had the vacant, dreamy expression of someone who was about to enjoy an ice cream cone in the park before taking a long walk instead of a sacrificial lamb on their way to the slaughter. Yes, definitely a Ravenclaw patch. He couldn't help but be disappointed by a fellow member of his House for her obvious poor taste in friends and blatant disregard for her own arse.
From the time Antonin was marked by the Dark Lord when he was nineteen years old, he'd done a number of questionable missions and tasks on behalf of his master. No matter how many times he had to torture or murder a child, the bitter taste never went away. He would continue to cut short the life spans of promising young witches and wizards at his master's bequest, but he would never enjoy the task. Now, put a steel blade in his hands and toss a few filthy Muggles his direction, he wouldn't care how old they were. Muggle pups grow into full grown Muggles one day. Perhaps it was kinder to just cut them down when they were young. At least that way they could be assured of causing very little damage to the world around them.
Rabastan Lestrange fidgeted next to Antonin. They were standing next to each other to block off the row of prophecies on either side. Bastan always had an unhealthy love for the fresh-faced young witches. Even with their masks covering their faces, Antonin could practically smell the wizard next to him drooling over the three girls standing with Potter. Perhaps he was hoping that however this mission would end, he would get to take at least one of them with him to a dark, vacant corner. The thought disgusted Antonin. They were children! Yes, all three had the promise of great beauty when they grew older, but they were hardly out of their training brassieres. Absolutely nothing appealing about an illegal teenage girl in his opinion. The brunette with the wild hair might be seventeen, but the redhead and the blonde were definitely underage. He tried to ignore the continued fidgeting next to him especially when he saw the younger wizard pull on his trousers to readjust himself when he thought no one was looking.
Antonin felt a modicum of respect for young Potter when he moved to stand in front of the small redheaded girl when Bellatrix announced that a bit of torture of the girl might persuade Potter to hand over the prophecy. Of course the girl had zero business being there in the first place. This time of year she should be shut up inside her common room preparing for her final exams, not about to face her premature death. Didn't these children understand that this was not a game?
All of the Death Eaters stood around impatiently as Lucius and Bellatrix argued and taunted the Potter boy for the prophecy. Antonin hoped that the prophecy was important enough to justify the murder of six teenagers. Despite Lucius' pretty words there was no way they were all just going to allow them to slink off even if Potter handed over the prophecy. Lucius loved to hear himself speak. He hadn't shut up since he was given the honor of leading the mission to the Department of Mysteries. Antonin wished he would just hurry up and get the prophecy so they could all go home. He had a date later that evening with a much younger witch whose flexibility was more than a little impressive.
"REDUCTO!"
The sudden shout of the spell and the resounding din of the shelves upon shelves of smashed prophecies surprised all of the Death Eaters from their bored stupor. Rabastan rushed forward in the dust and was promptly elbowed hard in the face by the Potter boy. All six of the children began running down row ninety-seven at top speed. Several delayed seconds later Antonin and the rest of his brothers-in-arms ran after the children. They'd closed the door behind them and sealed it with a spell. Lucius was furiously shouting orders to everyone in the chaos.
Antonin practically had to drag Jugson behind him through the door Lucius ordered them through. He didn't particularly care for his partner, but there wasn't time to argue. They pushed through their assigned door. No one was in the room. Antonin could hear shouting coming from next door.
"Be prepared with an Impediment jinx," Antonin ordered Jugson. The man really needed someone else to tie his shoes for him. He couldn't be expected to come up with a valid idea of his own.
Their patience was rewarded a few moments later when they saw three figures running towards the dark hallway. Antonin and Jugson took off running after the two boys and the bushy haired girl. The children ran into a dark room and slammed the door behind them. With a simple wave of his wand, Antonin was able to throw the door open with a single spell, stopping the chit of a girl in the middle of her attempt to seal the door once more.
"IMPEDIMENTA!" they cried together.
All three were immediately thrown off their feet. Potter was hurled into the stone wall smashing his head against it. The other boy disappeared on the floor after being thrown over a desk in the office. The brunette was knocked into a bookcase.
"WE'VE GOT HIM!" Antonin yelled to the other Death Eaters in the department, hoping his voice was loud enough to carry. "IN AN OFFICE OFF—"
"Silencio!"
To say that Antonin was surprised by the mere girl silencing him with a spell would be a gross understatement. No one… no one had been able to silence him since he was a young boy. His mother used to use that spell to her benefit. Others had tried before, but never been successful.
The Potter boy hit Jugson with a Petrificus Totalus. As the girl was temporarily distracted enough to congratulate her friend, Antonin struck her with a curse of his own making. It wouldn't be as effective considering he was forced to utter it non-verbally, but it was strong enough to do a great deal of damage. The young woman collapsed to the ground to the consternation of her partners. Potter rushed to her side while the other boy attempted to crawl to her from under the desk. Antonin kicked the boy in the head as hard as he could, breaking his wand and likely his nose and tooth or two. When Potter turned around to face Antonin, he removed his mask to look the boy in the eyes. He grinned at the terrified boy and attempted to convey to him that he would get just what the unconscious and likely dying, girl got if he didn't hand over the prophecy.
"Like you won't kill us all the moment I hand it over anyway!" Potter shouted.
How very astute, Mr. Potter, he thought. He raised his wand, but was temporarily distracted by Rabastan blundering in the room. The damned fool had somehow gotten his head stuck in something that turned his head into a baby's. Antonin shuddered at the unnerving sight. His moment of distraction was seized upon by the boy. Before he even had a chance to put up a basic shield to deflect the jinx, Antonin was falling on top of the prostrate Jugson unable to move.
Several minutes later they were freed from the indignity of the charm by one of the other Death Eaters who'd fared better against the damned teenagers than they had. Jugson and Antonin took off running towards the creepy stone room with the stone archway. He made his way towards the Potter boy, leering down at him, ready to murder him at the first opportunity if allowed. Lucius continued to beg the boy to turn over the prophecy next to him.
The children continued to resist. Antonin felt his stomach clench when crazy Bellatrix performed the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottom boy. That woman was truly fucked up. She had been even when they were in school, but years of living in Azkaban affected her even more than they had Antonin. They were soon joined by five more at the top of the room. Five, damned bloody adults.
Antonin temporarily forgot his urge to hex the bollocks off the Potter boy as curses and hexes were shot in his direction. Several of them narrowly missed their target. Fucking Mad Eye Moody shot curse after curse in his direction. The old man certainly knew how to hold a grudge. It took several minutes and a few close calls, but Antonin was triumphant. The retired Auror collapsed to the ground. Antonin was only sorry that he was fairly certain the man wasn't dead yet. He turned his attention back to the teenagers.
"Tarantallegra!" The Longbottom boy began dancing around the room until he collapsed to the floor. "Now, Potter…"
He attempted to curse Potter in the same way he had with his little girlfriend, but the boy's shield charm deflected most of the curse.
"Accio Proph—"
Antonin's attention was distracted once more by someone roughly knocking into his shoulder. Fucking Sirius Black. They began a furious duel in an attempt to dispatch the other. Antonin was certain he was getting the upper hand when the damned Potter brat struck him with another Petrificus Totalus spell. He crashed to his back, unable to move while fucking Black cheered on the Nightmare-Who-Lived.
He spent the rest of what would become known as the Battle of the Department of Mysteries flat on his back unable to see what was happening. Dumbledore arrived to save his students and Antonin was shipped back off to Azkaban.
Azkaban
It's easy to get used to the noise once a person spends any amount of time locked up in Azkaban. The screaming is constant. Someone in the building somewhere is always screaming or crying. If an inmate doesn't get used to the noise pretty soon after arrival, they're doomed. Getting past the smell of the place is what is hardest. Antonin wasn't sure he ever grew used to the mixture of raw sewage, human body odor and despair. Not to mention whatever foul odor emanated off of the dementors. He didn't know what caused them to smell so badly and even his inquisitive mind didn't want to know.
Lucius was in the cell next to his. Unfortunately there was no privacy. He could see everything that happened in Lucius' cell and Lucius could see everything that happened in his. Not that he was worried. Antonin had fourteen years prior experience existing in the torture chamber without losing his mind completely. It was easy to tell that Lucius was soft. He wasn't going to make it long. The blond man cried throughout the night when he thought no one could see him.
Antonin could see him and he hated his weakness. It was Lucius' fault that their mission failed. How bloody hard was it for twelve fully grown and powerful wizards and witch to take on six children? It should've been their easiest mission yet. Steal the prophecy, murder the extras, and hand the Potter boy over to the Dark Lord. Lucius fucked it all up. He and his fucking titched sister-in-law. At least Bellatrix was able to escape the clutches of Azkaban. Of course another day or two locked up and she would finally lose it completely. That woman was a ticking time bomb.
"You're pathetic, Malfoy," Antonin hissed after about two weeks of listening to Lucius cry in the middle of the night. He was losing sleep and getting bloody sick of it.
"Fuck you!"
"Nope, sorry, mate. I haven't been locked up that long," Antonin replied with a laugh. "You are very pretty though. Personally, I prefer brunettes with brains. Vapid blondes have never been my thing."
Lucius flipped over on his thin mattress to turn his back towards Antonin, leaving the dark haired wizard alone with his thoughts again. He hated that he was back in the Merlin-forsaken prison. His brief period of freedom hadn't lasted long enough. A dementor glided past his cell and his couldn't shake the shiver that came upon his entire body. Usually if he had some warning one was about to come past he could prepare himself. While he was still affected by their presence, he didn't have as much to lose on the outside that so many others had to worry about. Not like Lucius. There wasn't a beautiful woman and son waiting for Antonin on the mainland. He didn't have to worry about their safety or how they might be punished for his failures. Of course the realization that Antonin had no family or loved ones whatsoever did little to boost his moods. Made it harder for the dementors to suck out his happiness. He had very little to begin with. Growing up with pessimistic parents who naturally expected life to be painful and miserable had given him a special set of mental skills to combat the feelings of hopelessness that the dementors bred amongst their prisoners. Antonin never expected to be happy so they could hardly suck that happiness from him, could they?
"You think that girl is dead?" Antonin asked.
"What?" Lucius demanded, turning back over to face him in the semi-darkness.
"That girl with the curly hair. Do you think I killed her?"
"Potter's Mudblood girlfriend? What do you care if you did or not?"
He couldn't really answer that question. For two weeks he had thought of little else when he found his mind wandering. She'd fascinated him as loathe as he was to admit it. Whatever her name was, she'd definitely made an impression. He knew that he struck her with the curse in an effort to end her life. Didn't stop him from feeling bad about it later. She had enormous potential. It'd be a shame if he snuffed it out too soon. Of course if she hung out with Potter she was likely to be in trouble more than once in the future if she'd survived.
"You develop a little crush on her or what?" Lucius mocked.
"Don't be ridiculous. She's a child. That's more Rabastan's and Walden's style."
"I do not know, Antonin. There was too much going on for me to care whether or not some worthless Mudblood got caught in the crossfire."
Lucius rolled back over and quickly fell asleep. Antonin lay up on his mattress for a little while longer replaying that night in the Department of Mysteries over and over again.
August 1, 1997
Antonin lay down on the floor of the Malfoy drawing room and tried not to embarrass himself by sobbing. The aftershocks of the damned Cruciatus Curse coursed through his body. It would be days before he felt back to normal. Bellatrix had certainly been thorough in her nephew's instruction in the Unforgivables.
The evening came back to him in short flashes of memory following the torture. He and Thorfinn Rowle arriving in a bright Muggle café. The girl, no, woman with the untamable brown curls that smelled of lavender. His head slamming into the hard ground. Coming to with no memory of why he was lying on the linoleum floor of a tacky café.
"Leave," ordered the Dark Lord. "I will summon you when I need you again."
Antonin was able to pull himself off of the hardwood floor with nothing but sheer determination. If the Dark Lord ordered him to do something, he did it. No questions asked. It was more than his life was worth to defy the Dark Lord. If he had two broken legs and a broken arm, he'd still be able to pull himself up and exit Malfoy Manor.
"Fucking Mudblood bitch!" hissed Thorfinn as he hobbled towards the gates that would take them away from the grounds of Lucius' estate. "I should've known that Granger was involved."
For whatever reason, the Dark Lord had Thorfinn tortured longer than he had Antonin. Maybe he took mercy on the older man's body. Thorfinn was a big, burly, massive wizard. He resembled those absurd Muggles who spent all of their time lifting heavy weights until they transformed their bodies into nothing but giant muscles. It was certainly a body type that drew many a young witch's eye as Antonin had witnessed personally over a pint or two at the Leaky.
"Granger?" Antonin asked.
"Yeah, fucking Hermione Granger. You ever hear a more bizarre name? She's been a little know-it-all, pain-in-everyone's-side for years. I've always hated the little cunt."
"Did you have problems with her in school?"
Thorfinn rolled his eyes and sighed.
"She was several years behind me. I was a seventh year when she was a first. Even just one year was enough to get me to hate the girl. Once I was in the library, in one of the special study nooks in the back near the Restricted Section. I had a sixth year Ravenclaw with me and I was teaching her the finer points of performing an adequate blow… well, you can imagine. Little bitch walks in on us and immediately starts screaming. The fucking librarian swoops down moments later, sees me with my pants down and sends me off to the Headmaster's office. I almost got expelled and that Ravenclaw never spoke to me again."
"That's it?" Antonin wasn't impressed. "You're holding a grudge because a twelve year old girl walked in on you receiving oral sex in the middle of the day in the library?"
"No, she also caught me with a fifth year Hufflepuff in the Astronomy Tower. That one was a little more shocking than the library. She would've reported me but I threatened her if she opened her mouth. And then once I was at the boathouse…"
Antonin held up a hand to stop the younger man.
"All right, I get it. She had a bad habit of interrupting you in delicate situations."
"She's just a nosy bitch. I know that she was always trying to get me caught again after the library."
They continued their walk to the gates in silence. It had been an exhausting and humiliating night for both of them. There wasn't really any need to continue the discussion. When they reached the outside of the gates, Thorfinn turned to Antonin before he had a chance to Disapparate back to Rabastan's manor.
"Want to split a bottle of fire whiskey in Hogsmeade?"
Antonin shrugged his shoulders before agreeing. He didn't have anything to look forward to but a cold, empty bed. The whiskey might help with the aftershocks of pain or at least get him drunk enough to forget his solitude.
"I'm surprised we're still alive," Thorfinn said later that night when the bottle of whiskey was almost half empty. "Got to admit I didn't expect to leave Malfoy's house in one piece."
Antonin knocked back another glass. The wizard was still young enough to not fully understand the danger he was constantly in as an agent of the Dark Lord. Every time he was summoned even if he hadn't knowingly committed an error there was a possibility that he wouldn't live to see the next morning. It was part of being a Death Eater. Hadn't changed since before the First War.
"I can't believe the Mudblood cunt fucked with our minds like that!" Thorfinn practically shouted across the half empty barroom. Aberforth Dumbledore had fewer patrons in his filthy pub every day, but it was a place Antonin knew they'd be mostly alone. "No, I take that back. I can believe it. I bet she has a history of fucking with other people's minds. Probably gets a sick joy out of removing memories from anyone who pisses her off."
Thorfinn filled up Antonin's glass and his own again. Despite his girth, it didn't seem to take much alcohol to get Rowle good and drunk. Or maybe his frustration and anger were intoxicating him just a bit more than the actual alcohol.
"I'd love to make her pay for that. I'd make her pay for days. Take her back to my flat. Tie her up. Yeah, I'd definitely enjoy paying her back."
Antonin felt a shudder take over his body and he knew it had nothing to do with the Cruciatus Curse. He didn't care for Thorfinn's graphic description on how he would get revenge for their terrible evening. It was crass and unnecessary. War was cruel, yes, but he didn't want to imagine the same girl he'd almost killed in the Ministry at the mercy of Thorfinn Rowle. He was too cruel. Antonin excused himself soon after to return to his cold, empty bed, the scent of lavender still in his nose.
May 2, 1998
Harry Potter was dead. Dead. It didn't seem real somehow. The Dark Lord was finally victorious and the war was over. Antonin was pleased that it was all over. Yes, he was aware that war or not, he was still in the command of the Dark Lord. He would continue to be called for missions and tasks as needed, but he hoped that since their side was triumphant he wouldn't be called as often.
He didn't want to admit to himself that he'd been looking for her throughout the battle. It was insanity. She was Harry Potter's partner, likely his lover too. It was speculated throughout the troops that Hermione Granger was the brains behind their trio. When he was summoned to the school and learned that Harry Potter was inside, he was certain that she had to be there with him somewhere. He couldn't explain his fascination with the girl. She was young, excruciatingly so even. And a traitor. If her side didn't win the battle he knew that her life would be forfeit.
When the cheers erupted throughout the Great Hall with the final breath of Harry Potter, Antonin joined in the celebration but couldn't resist scanning the crowd. After several minutes he saw her standing in a corner of the Hall in complete shock. She wasn't even blinking. Simply staring at the lifeless body of her friend, boyfriend, whatever. Not even crying. There were those on the losing side who had begun sobbing immediately. She wasn't one.
It all happened so quickly that no one had time to react. The sixteen foot giant came bursting through the room. Everyone turned to stare at the creature, worried that even a small giant like him could cause some serious damage. All he did was pluck the frozen girl from her place in the Hall and take off running outside. Antonin watched it all happen, but didn't even think to move an inch until Walden started yelling and running outside after the giant. Part of him was pleased she got away and the other was angry that now he didn't know where she was.
The Dark Lord sent his Death Eaters around the castle grounds to round up the enemy combatants. Antonin stuck close to Thorfinn just in case they came across her. Hermione. To describe the grounds of the castle as chaotic would be accurate, but not quite strong enough. Most of the Order and those stupid kids who created the organization Dumbledore's Army knew they would be in serious danger if they stayed where they were. Many of them were using the pandemonium to slip out the castle doors. Antonin helped catch several of the Order members and several of the Hogsmeade residents before they could escape. With them harshly bound with magical ropes, he led them back to the Great Hall.
He felt physically ill by the sights that greeted him when he returned to the room he used to enjoy his meals as a student. It wasn't the first time he'd been a part of a conquering force. He knew the depravities that accompanied the end of a battle. Knowing didn't make seeing any easier. Poor, screaming girls too young to be fighting in a war despite being legally of age were being assaulted on just about every surface he could see. Antonin felt his wand hand itch to curse the rutting pigs who were taking advantage of a defeated people. When he passed by the pretty blonde Ravenclaw with the eternally dreamy expression on her face shoved up against the wall with Amycus Carrow between her thighs, he almost threw up. If he could've murdered Amycus where he stood without his own life being ended, he would've done so in a moment. The girl caught his eyes and he feared he would never be able to sleep again without seeing her expression on the back of his eyelids.
The Dark Lord called for Molly Weasley to be brought forward to the dais where he was standing. Antonin couldn't help but admire the woman for her bravery. She showed no fear as she was dragged up to the front to face what everyone knew would be her final moments before her execution. Pity, really. It wasn't even as if anyone but the Dark Lord would miss Bellatrix. She was a loose cannon that terrified everyone around her. Everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before she turned on everyone else.
"You dare to murder my most loyal servant?" The Dark Lord's voice carried across the room.
"Yes, I dare," Molly Weasley spat back. "I would do it over and over again to protect any of my children."
The Dark Lord raised his wand. With a simple incantation he'd used probably a hundred times in his existence, Mrs. Weasley crumpled to the floor, her defiant expression still splashed across her face. Travers and Mulciber were called forward to remove her body from his sight. He wanted her remains to be taken out near the greenhouses to be incinerated. There would be no formal burial for the woman. No funeral for her children to mourn her at. He called for the capture and execution of all members of the Weasley family. Considering she was known for having a plethora of children, Antonin knew it would take some time for them to find all of them. In the meantime, her husband was remanded to Azkaban to wait until the last of his children were executed before he met his own end. Antonin had never seen a man look as broken as Arthur Weasley.
When the Dark Lord called for Narcissa Malfoy to join him on the dais, the entire Hall went silent. Those of them who had been out in the Forbidden Forest when Potter arrived to confront the Dark Lord knew that she lied about Potter being alive. No one was quite sure why or to what purpose telling a bald faced lie to the most powerful wizard in the world served. All it seemed to Antonin was a swifter way to bring about her death.
"Lucius, Draco, please join us," the Dark Lord ordered.
The three members of the Malfoy family stood before their master. Only Narcissa was able to meet the Dark Lord in the eye. Like Molly Weasley, she was showing an immense amount of poise and strength. She refused to meet her demise with tears in her eyes. While he had never particularly cared for any member of that family, in that moment, Antonin had nothing but respect for Narcissa.
"You lied to me, Narcissa. I am not used to being lied to by those who claim they are my loyal servants. Why did you lie?"
The witch refused to answer the question. No doubt there was fear on her part of incriminating another member of her family with her answer. The Dark Lord pointed his wand in her direction and called out "crucio". She fell to the dais and writhed on the ground, struggling to not make a noise. When he lifted the curse he asked the question again. She stared him straight in the eye and refused to answer.
"Lucius, please loosen your wife's tongue."
There were few times that Antonin could actually admit to feeling sorry for Lucius Malfoy. Normally he was a poncy git who flitted around with his thousand galleon robes to stare down his nose at everyone else. Lucius looked almost grey that day. His face had lost all of its color. He stared into his wife's pleading eyes before hitting her with another round of the Cruciatus Curse. She continued to writhe on the floor for several minutes before the Dark Lord stopped him. Lucius was forced to repeat the curse on his wife countless times.
"Thank you, Lucius. Excellent job," the Dark Lord said. "Draco, please repeat your father's actions."
Draco Malfoy stared at his mother practically seizing on the floor with an expression of horror and disgust. It was obvious that he was weighing in his mind whether or not he could torture his own mother. His hesitation did not go unnoticed by the Dark Lord or indeed by any of the spectators gathered throughout the Great Hall.
"Come come, Draco, we do not have all day," the Dark Lord taunted.
Little Malfoy raised his wand and struck his mother. She still hadn't screamed even after countless sessions of the pain curse. Her resolve was firm. Finally, even her sheer determination couldn't keep Narcissa Malfoy from shattering the windows of the hall with her high-pitched shrieks. The unearthly sound frightened her son enough that he almost dropped his wand. The Dark Lord sighed loud enough for everyone to hear in the room.
"Lucius, please educate your son."
Narcissa's screams were replaced immediately with Draco's. His own father was torturing him in front of everyone. After only a minute or so that certainly felt much longer to the man and his son, the Dark Lord stopped him.
"I want your wife broken, Lucius. You and your son will alternate cursing Narcissa until she loses her mind."
Both men looked as if they wanted to argue, but how could they? If they didn't complete the task given to them by their master, their own lives would be worthless. He would simply call for the same actions to be repeated on them.
The Dark Lord turned to address those assembled in the room.
"I am very proud of all of you," he announced. "You have all shown me great loyalty. I wish to bestow some tokens of my gratitude on several of you."
Antonin met the Dark Lord's eyes. The serpentine wizard smiled the unnerving grin that made Antonin's skin crawl, but he stilled his facial expressions. It would not do for him to flinch.
"Antonin, please come forward."
He wasn't expecting any sort of token from the Dark Lord. All he had done was perform his duties during the battle as he was expected to. Antonin crossed the hall and fell to his knees at his master's feet. He placed an obedient kiss on the hem of his robes.
"Rise, Antonin," he ordered. "You cut down the werewolf and also defeated your former Head of House in a duel with fatal consequences. You have shown me great loyalty."
"I live to serve, my lord."
"What would you have me give you as a demonstration of my gratitude?"
Antonin thought about his answer for several moments. The screams of Narcissa Malfoy shocked him to reality and he thought of another woman who could be at the mercy of torture who didn't deserve it. Thorfinn was present in his periphery pushing a couple of members of Dumbledore's Army towards the anteroom next door.
"I want the Mudblood Granger."
His words surprised the Dark Lord momentarily. Antonin feared at first that his request would be met with a torture session of his own, but his master simply responded with a booming, maniacal cackle.
"Please repeat yourself, Antonin. I'm not sure that I understood."
"I want the Mudblood Granger. I wish to be allowed to seek her out and make her my captive."
"An unusual request, Antonin. What exactly do you wish to do with the girl?"
"I have plans."
He couldn't exactly explain that his plans included at the very least keeping her as far out of the clutches of Thorfinn Rowle as possible. Antonin hoped that the Dark Lord wouldn't ask for an elaboration on just what he wanted a worthless Mudblood for.
"Your request is granted, Antonin. You may use whatever resources you can to seek out Potter's Mudblood and take her for whatever plans you have."
"Thank you, my Lord."
Antonin was immediately dismissed from the dais. Ignoring the continued shrieks from the area where the three Malfoys were still gathered, he navigated across the large room. Before he could exit the doors to the Entrance Hall, he caught a glimpse of Thorfinn Rowle glaring daggers in his direction.