"YOU LOOK THAT WAY I LOOK ON OTHER SIDE!" roared Dolohov. For the first time in twelve years, his blood was running, adrenaline was pumping through his veins, and he felt excited. True, he had been out of Azkaban for a few months but they had all been spent in the secret room in Malfoy Manor. It was small, dense, and wasn't much better than Azkaban. At least in Azkaban, he had his own cell and got to eat all the food himself.
There was absolutely no light in it, unless you counted the times when Narcissa Black (Lucius's wife and Bellatrix's simpering sister) came up with a candle and some food. She never said anything. Just opened the door, scooted in, placed down the food, and swept out as quickly as she had arrived, stopping only to throw a fleeting glance of disgust at them fighting like dogs over the food. Dolohov never was particularly good with family interactions considering that he was an orphan. But if Narcissa was happy to see Bellatrix for the first time in twelve years, or was even aware of her presence for that matter, she certainly made no implication of it. She never made any eye contact with any of them and if she did, she would make a little hacking noise in the back of her throat as though she were choking and march out. If she hadn't placed the food down yet, she would march out the door, with it still in her hand. As though feeding people was far too much of an ordeal for her. That's why nobody ever tried to make eye contact with her, and acted like she was invisible until she had gone. It was quite torturous having to ignore your meal as it was being served, when you had been rotting in prison for as long as he had been. Self-righteous old harlot probably thought they were lazy, low-down mongrels. Thought she was better than they were, did she? Well, she was more than welcome to spend over a decade in that filthy stinkhole Azkaban and come out looking all regal and haughty. Then again, considering that her sister had managed to do it, she probably could too.
"She should have been in there!" thought Dolohov angrily. "At least her sister went to prison, standing by her beliefs! She was so devoted to her cause, that she chose Azkaban if it meant that the Dark Lord would know of her loyalty!" Dolohov didn't particularly like Bellatrix, but he respected her for that.
If Dolohov remembered correctly, the last time that he and the death eaters had been in Malfoy Manor before that rat bastard, Karkaroff had sold all of them out in order to save his own stinking hide there was a large, fairly spacious chamber below the drawing room that was filled with dark artifacts. That was the place that the last meeting ever held by the Death Eaters before the Fall of the Dark Lord.
"Why we not stay in Room with Dark Artifacts?" Dolohov had demanded from Lucius Malfoy, right before he shut them all up. (His English was very broken, having forgotten most of it, due to spending the last twelve years opening his mouth only to eat, breath, and beg for mercy from the Dementors in his mother tongue)
"Three years ago, that Muggle-loving imbecile, Arthur Weasley ordered a raid for Dark Artifacts on Malfoy Manor. Usually, he always missed the Secret Chamber by a mile, but that filthy brat of his somehow found out and tipped him off about it. He knew exactly where to look, going straight to the drawing room, and finding the secret passage as though he knew exactly where it was!" snapped Malfoy.
"They confiscated every single Dark Artifact that has been handed down from Generation to Generation of Malfoys and boarded up the room, sealing it off permanently!" he roared, more wrapped up in the outrage of having been finally outwitted by that moronic blood-traitor than actually getting the point across to Dolohov. He got the gist of it, however, and was smart enough not to ask anymore questions.
For months on end, the ten death eaters were crammed up into the tiny little room on the third floor, all squashed up against each other. Sometimes weeks would roll by without nothing interesting ever happening. The most notable occurrence had been when they had first arrived. Augustus Rookwood, a slimy-haired, long-nosed, pock faced man with a whiny, nasal voice that would have harmonized beautifully with nails on a chalkboard, was sent for by the Dark Lord. Five minutes later, he came back looking so proud and haughty, Dolohov ached to slap him across his ratty face. But he didn't. he just asked him "Why did Dark Lord want you?"
"I have just rewarded the Dark Lord with some very valuable information. He has spent months on a scheme that would have been completely unreachable had it not been for your's truly sending him in the right direction. Oh and he's not very happy with Avery. Don't expect to see him around" He added with infuriating relish.
Dolohov bristled with rage at each word that came out of the slimy blemish's mouth. Each one sounded more and more conceited and puffed up than the last one. He might as well have been smoking out of a hookah pipe.
"Cough up" was all he said in reply.
"Oh all right" he said he said with an extremely false air of reluctance.
"For the past few months the Dark Lord has been attempting to obtain a prophecy about his fate with Harry Potter, that stupid brat who somehow managed to defeat him and is the reason we were all sent to that hellish pit Azkaban.."
"We know who Harry Potter is!" snapped Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix's Brother-in-Law.
"We don't need you to remind us! We just need you to tell us what the prophecy is about"
"Well, the Prophecy is hidden deep within the Bowels of the Department of Mysteries. And since the Dark Lord knows I have expertise in this subject, as I once did hold an illustrious position of working in it for longer than before some of you were even born..."
"Keep going or I rip out your throat and drink your blood, Augy" snarled Bellatrix. She wasn't joking.
Rookwood gulped and began to hurriedly finish the story, all haughtiness and conceit gone with the wind.
"Er-well, The Dark Lord has been trying to imperius people into going into the D.O.M to retrieve it for him. Twice. The first person was caught and hauled off to Azkaban But...but the second actually made it...but there's all these spells around it...Defensive ones. because the only one who can retrieve a prophecy is the person who it was made about...so the second Imperii, Bode got hit with all these spells that made the curse lift and his brain go all funny so he wound up in St. Mungos, causing a whole lot of confusion. But, it's ok because Lucius Malfoy took care of him. And then I just told The Dark Lord the truth about it and he's going to try to hatch a new plan and..." Rookwood concluded his retelling with another gulp of air, an apprehensive glance at Bellatrix and wrapped it up with "That's it"
