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Fancasts: Antonin Dolohov - Michiel Huisman / Reuben Yaxley - Richard Armitage
Chapter 3: The Comrade's Tale (Antonin's Story)
The Mission
Antonin's feet dropped down lighting on the crisp ground in front of a dimly lit house, he didn't even bother to look to his right he knew instinctively that Yaxley would have landed completely in sync with him.
They went about their preparations without speaking having discussed the best course of action before leaving the latest in a long line of gothic haunts his master had taken ownership of. Antonin set about charming the ground to make some provisions for the snow cover, it wouldn't do to leave footprints behind. The wind that rattled around them carried a distinctive chill but it bothered neither wizard. Antonin was not native to these shores and he had never lost the hardiness he had been born to, five winters in Sochi had a way of making every other weather condition seem like a mere trifle.
He raised his arm instinctively as Reuben moved to pass him the parchment they had worked on earlier, their informant had been most useful providing details of the security measures around the detached house, their mission would be made infinitely more simple because of this irregular level of detail. The two young wizards moved as if they were an extension of each other, they were always paired together for this reason, they could act without second guessing the other, each was fully versed in the other's skill and knew where they overlapped and were one or other had to take the lead.
He first met the seemingly reticent northern wizard as boys at Hogwarts, they had attended the same year and had both been in Slytherin house, Antonin had been a reserved child that became a quiet often taciturn man. That was not to say he was emotionless, he had just always been taught not to express his innermost thoughts unless amongst intimate acquaintances of which he had very few.
Antonin had not socialised much with other children, his family had moved here in 60s, London had been emerging as the place to be for the best work opportunities and his father had jumped at the chance to start somewhere fresh. Alexei Dolohov had wanted to get to of the shadow of his father, desperate to make his own way in the world after starting his family with his beloved wife, though when they had arrived they were soon to find that society was not as welcoming as they might have hoped.
In Russia they had moved in the first circles, a combination of good name, good money, the right views and the right level of purity. On the surface all the same things were important here and in theory the small family ticked all the boxes but they lacked the polished veneer that was necessary for elevation into the elite here.
The Dolohov's weren't particularly flowery, or at least not enough to fit in at the requisite society parties and balls. His father had begrudged all of the pretense, he was a gruff man accustomed to speaking little and plainly when he did, his opinion had been 'if it was good enough for the ballrooms of Sochi it should be good enough for here'.
Alexei made no secret of his distaste at having to dance with at least a proportion of the women present at these soirees and was obviously furious any time he had to watch his wife be guided about the room by one of the 'pretty' men from England. But his mother had been determined, she believed it was best for Antonin if they made their way into society.
Antonin in appearance, was a physical manifestation of his parent's union, he had all of his father's imposing features; dark hair, dark eyes, height, but it was tempered by his mother's softness, his countenance found favour far more readily than his fathers did. As was the way of the world the pure-blood British witches and wizards forgave him for his stoic nature as it came in a nice package, not that they would admit they were doing that of course they would explain it away, say he had an air of mystery, say he was a deep thinker, by his own admission Antonin was neither, he was a fairly plain man, and he had never had a day's introspection in his life.
All in all by the time he made it to Hogwarts he was fairly lonely, something he learned was common among his ilk. He had no siblings and his parents seemingly had no desire to have anymore children, and then he had met Reuben.
Yaxley's family had come from the North of England originally having moved to London after a tragedy in the family led to them want to be away from their former home just before Reuben was eleven.
In Reuben Antonin found his match in everything from academic dedication and prowess to opinions and temperament. They were even of a similar height, dwarfing most of the other boys in their year both standing well over six feet.
They shared everything, and so it was no surprise to anyone when they both became Death Eaters at the same time, both having taken the mark the year before. They had already established their specialism and the Dark Lord wanted it put to use this evening.
Without further sound the wizards walked forward and began dismantling the relatively simple wards around the house, they knew they were successful when they registered a soft click, not dissimilar to the sound following a successful Alohomora. Slinking inside the property it was evident the wards had not been keyed into the blood of any of the occupants, as their destruction had alerted no one to their presence.
A wizarding wireless played lightly from a room further up the entrance hall, Antonin turned to face Reuben and the two exchanged a quick look and a series of pre-planned hand gestures before creeping up the corridor coming to a halt outside the door the gentle notes could be heard from.
Making the decision to affix their masks they opened the door with all of the causal grace of invited guests. The scene they walked in on was simple in its domesticity, Iris and Octavian Meadowes were standing in the middle of the carpeted area of the large reception room, held in each other's embrace smoothly swaying to the crooning voice coming from the wireless, the lights in the room were dimmed and shadows danced around the room being twisted into strange patterns as the ceiling architrave refracted the dying embers of the fire.
Everything for the next ten minutes followed what had been established in his mind as a familiar pattern, the sight of the masks and cloaks brought out a fight or flight response in their targets, everything could be predicted. At the sight of danger Octavian moved to shield his wife and immediately began battling Yaxley, while his friend was occupied he moved around to secure Mrs Meadowes.
He was uncharacteristically brought up short when she seemed to recover from her initial fear enough to send a violent stream of curses at him knocking him off his feet and forcing his mask back against his face, the rough contact causing blood to seep from his nose.
Groaning he struggled back onto his feet sending back dark curses interspersed by spells of his own design, it wasn't long before she was subdued.
Once both were secured Antonin removed his mask observing Yaxley's eyes crinkle with humour at his bloodied face, "You always underestimate the women Antonin" Reuben laughed taking off his own mask. Then the couple were really afraid, he could see it in their faces and he knew why; if they were happy to take off their masks that could only mean one thing.
The Dark Lord was convinced that Mr and Mrs Meadowes had information of members of The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's supposed secret organisation, though why they needed it was a mystery it would not have been too difficult to work out the list themselves, Gryffindors were never subtle.
He was sure his own inclusion within Death Eater ranks was something of a surprise, he hadn't been brought up with as staunch views on blood supremacy as some, his father who had schooled him in his beliefs as a young boy had more concerns with half-bloods than mudbloods. Though mudbloods were dirty their magic was not of their own choosing and most likely there would be some magical ancestor somewhere who accounted for the development of skill.
No, half-bloods were the real concern, or more accurately magicals that married muggles. Muggles were not safe, bringing them into their world could only result in wars, muggles were inferior to them in every way.
A sharp gasp brought him back to himself, Yaxley had taken his time in securing the ropes, surely he got enough practice with them during his extracurricular activities he thought with a smirk "ropes again Yax, really?"
His friend's face split into a wicked grin "fuck you" he laughed out, "I'm going to be late back to Ciara as it is, thought I could kill two birds with one stone and trial this while I was here, I can make up for lost time later then"
Eventually, bloody spattered and bone weary they exited the reception room, the wireless still playing in the darkness though there would be nobody to dance to it anymore.
Making use of The Meadowes home Antonin cleaned himself off quickly, his father was long from baulking at the sight of him returning home from a mission worse for wear but he wouldn't dare let his mother catch his matted wavy hair and mottled cloak.
Yaxley emerged from a bathroom down the hall just as he was removing what looked to be brain tissue from his shoes "I'm off" he sing songed.
Antonin sighed "Yes I am aware of your evening plans Yax… I'm aware, The Meadowes were aware, most of the inner circle were aware, probably the Dark Lord himself was aware"
"Oh cheer up you miserable bastard, you have only got yourself to blame I told you she had a sister..."
"Yes and I told you that story always ends with me trying to corral some deranged witch while you go home with a politely mannered but deliciously kinky relative"
"What can I say, I love you brother" he rested both his large hands on Antonin's shoulders "but I love me more" he grinned at him "and anyway" he called over his shoulder making to walk back down the stairs "Ellora was an enchanting witch, you could have done a lot worse"
"Oh I was having a splendid time, before she tried to suck me off under the table in the restaurant"
Both wizards huffed out a laugh before exiting the way they came and disappearing into the night.
Antonin opened the door to his family home and held in a sigh as he saw the light was still on in the main room, he inched towards it, knowing better than to not present himself. He was startled for a moment when the faint notes of the wizarding wireless reached his ears, his step faltered for a second as he suppressed the memories of earlier that evening.
As he moved to the doorframe his mother must have heard him "Antonin is that you?"
"Yes mama" he replied instantly shaking loose the remembrance and striding into the room.
He kept quiet as she berated him for the hour he has 'deigned' to come home and the state he was in, his little clean up seemingly did not do enough to save him from her wroth. Only when he locked eyes with his father was he finally given reprieve and allowed to leave the room to go to his own.
Inquisition over for the evening Antonin climbed up the stairs to the very top of the house traipsing inside the bedroom that has been his since childhood. The room was of a good size with walls covered in the darkest blue paper, as he moved over to his desk he noticed a tumbler of firewhiskey that has been left there, he wasn't sure if the message was well done or sorry but he took the glass in hand either way.
Standing indecisively for several seconds he looked towards the window releasing snow had started to fall, making up his mind he opened the sash fastening on the frame pushing the mechanism that had grown stiff over the winter months and climbed onto the roof using a method he had perfected as a boy but found a lot easier now he was an adult.
He settled himself against an old chimney post and let his mind drink in the silence while his eyes took in the frozen rooftops, he had forgotten how peaceful it was way up here.
That he would become a Death Eater was never in question, he had been raised to be his own man but those beliefs his father had shared in his youth had become his own and in some ways he held them even more strongly than his parents generation.
He was no bleeding heart, he had known long before the rest did that this war would not be fought in courtrooms but on the battlefield, so to speak, you do not come from a country with a long history of oppression without understand the force that was necessary to effect change.
He was still human though, or at least he was at this point, it affected him. Maybe not as much as some of the other recruits who would shake through missions and blub to themselves afterwards, he had a level of detachment to the task that the others found scary, an impression he encouraged.
He could confess at least to himself that he was beginning to enjoy elements of this new… career path. The Dark Lord valued his skills and encouraged his strategic mind, he was told that he was being groomed to be one of his most faithful. Antonin was fairly sure those pretty words were repeated to many of his brothers, though he knew enough to know when to keep his mouth shut.
He took a long swig from the chilled glass, their Lord's plans were solid within a five years they would have total control of the British wizarding world and then this bloodier part would be over. He could take a wife and settle down into whatever role was deemed right for him. She would not be shunned in society as his parents were, he would have achieved enough by then for even Narcissa Malfoy to welcome whoever the lady would be into her home.
He just had to keep himself in check till then, he watched as the snow that had fallen onto his arm slowly melted leaving him coated in a slick cold that wasn't entirely unpleasant, that didn't seem too difficult.