Chapter Eight

"He will swallow up death in victory;

A/N; This was going to be a big chapter, but I split it in two. Half of the ninth chapter is already written. No real warnings for this one It's pretty tame. There is a little smut, not much but a little and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you as always for the reviews I appreciate each and every one. Along with the favorites and followers. This chapter has been edited, but I apologize for any mistakes I may have missed.

Disclaimer; I don't own any of this it all belongs to J.K.

Anatoly Dolohov woke up on a dirt floor. His head was pounding from whatever it was they had drugged him with. Keeping his mouth shut, he took in his surroundings.

Daylight showed through a tiny window at the ceiling level. Naturally underground, a muggle basement. They hadn't bothered to tie him; muggle drugs didn't work well on wizards. But they didn't know that.

He was alone in the tiny room, lying on his side. Feeling relieved, that his trousers were still fastened and in place. He didn't doubt for a second that these filthy muggles would bugger him while he was unconscious. He moved his hand slowly toward the pocket of his robes and there tucked securely inside was his wand.

The thought of disapparating immediately crossed his mind. But first a little reconnaissance. He wanted to find out just where he was. And why they had taken him.

He cast a revealing charm to see if he was indeed alone. And he was. Anatoly slowly stood, the drugs may not have kept him sedated. But they had certainly left him with a pounding, spinning head. He was in no condition to apparate. The muggles must have had a lot of faith in their drugs. That was the first mistake. The second was leaving him with his wand. They really and truly knew nothing about wizards.

Getting his feet steady beneath him and a wicked grin on his face Anatoly crept up the stairs. Stopping at the door to listen. He could hear the men on the other side.

They wanted to exchange him for Jillian and Helen. That was not going to happen. They planned on killing him after the exchange. Anatoly chuckled to himself, he hated to disappoint them, but none of their plans were coming to fruition. He heard the name Tom more than just once, Tom, of course, being a common name. But there was only one Tom they shared, and that Tom stood in the very center of the equation.

Warding the door so they couldn't enter he went back down the stairs. Looking around the filthy little room, he knew staying here to play with these muggles by himself wasn't an option. To be on the safer side, he would get a few friends. Being sure to leave Tom Riddle out of it though.

This room they had stashed him in. It looked as if it had seen other prisoners. It smelled of cum, sweat, vomit, and blood. A crusted mattress was in the corner; cuffed chains hung from the wall next to it.

At least they hadn't thrown him down on that. More chains hung from the ceiling, bloody instruments used to torture lay on a tray, near a metal autopsy table. A drain clogged with dried blood in the center of the room. A cliché torture chamber. No subtly, no originality, these muggles were pathetic.

Before he left though Anatoly thought he would leave a present for them, he pointed his wand at the filthy stained mattress and sang the words 'Subtraxerim Utilium Coles.' Childish curse but fitting. Anatoly preceded to curse objects around the room, giggling like a schoolboy being naughty.

He almost wanted to stay and watch. The room, however, was becoming stifling hot and beginning to make him gag. Finding the hatch to the outside, he scanned for muggles. Finding none, he slipped outside.

Anatoly took a deep cleansing breath of fresh air. Casting a cleansing charm and straightening his cloak. He disillusioned himself and strolled through the back gate of the cottage. He could hear the late afternoon traffic in the distance and made his way up the little street. Around the corner and on to the main thoroughfare of Elmbridge. His head was beginning to clear. He fixed the position in his mind and disapparated to Malfoy Manor.

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Abraxas had been waiting patiently in his study for Emmeline. His legs stretched out in his favorite chair, a firewhiskey in his hand. This had been a shite day if there ever was. And it wasn't going to get any better. Telling Druella Black her husband was dead wouldn't even be the worst. Breaking the news to Antonin of his father's abduction was something he was putting off until they knew more. And he was never happier about that decision when the very wizard he was worried about appeared in the middle of his study.

"It's about time you showed up." Abraxas remarked, "I was beginning to wonder if they had taken your wand."

"Dumb as Trolls, the lot of them! They drugged me, and I was out for a bit...left me alone in some filthy basement!" Anatoly helped himself to a drink and sat opposite of his friend. "What did I miss?"

"Blacks dead, Conall thinks from a long-range shooter... I'm taking Emmeline over to their estate to break the news to Druella."

"Can I bring Antonin here?"

"Antonin is safe; Daemon collected him right after we realized you were missing." Abraxas laughed, "Pulled the poor boy from the shower and dragged him through the floo in nothing but a towel."

Anatoly chuckled, "I'll bring him some clothes from home ...and by the way, I heard them talking. They wanted to exchange me for the two girls. They were planning; I think to shoot me as well. After the exchange." He tossed back the shot and poured himself another. "They also share a mutual friend of ours; I'm thinking you know who I'm referring too."

"Stay here." Abraxas had a quizzical look about it. "I think I want to keep our mutual friend in the dark as far as your return is concerned... I'll gather the rest of the lads, and we'll come back here to organize."

"Can you bring the children here?"

"I need to leave them at Lestrange Manor for now...it gives Tom something to do ...keeps him out of our hair, and he thinks that if we trust him to watch our children, then we trust him in turn."

"I don't trust him with my child, my only son Abraxas...he has no problem murdering children or handing them over to worse...you know that!"

"Reinhard is with them," Abraxas said calmly. "Stay calm, and he's safe. I left Lucius there as well... I know he was behind the abduction of yourself and Bella and her father's death, somehow, he's behind all of this. We just need to prove it."

Anatoly raised an eyebrow, "Would it be paranoid for me to think he wants me dead? You know... because of Jillian?"

"He underestimates us; you may have given away some of the depth of your talent my friend. But not all of it. And he has no idea of mine. Right now, he thinks he's better than everyone else. And we will let him think it."

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Narcissa curled herself in an overstuffed armchair, her stuffed dragon held tightly in her arms. Everyone had gathered in the lower level library again. Bellatrix stared into the flames of the roaring fire. Pressed against the chest of Lucius. Helen sat next to them, holding her friend's hand.

"Uncle Daemon said he was pulling Theo out of school," Antonin said, "and I think we need to do the ritual tonight... we're all here...we have everything we need."

Rodolphus stood up from his spot next to Helen, "I agree, let's gather our ingredients and get started."

"I'll have the elves bring tea," Helen said, "Bring Cissa over here Walden, I can care for her."

Walden carried Narcissa to the couch and placed her next to her sister. She was too young to have to deal with all of this. The stress of knowing the prophecy. She was nine years old. He was just eleven. They should be playing cowboys, not planning blood rituals. He crouched down next to her, and gently caressed her cheek with one finger. Wiping at the teardrops that hadn't stopped. "Your mum should be here soon."

"I don't want my mum; I want my daddy," Narcissa whispered and clutched at her sister's hand. Bella continued to stare into the flames.

Helen was passing the cups of tea when Theo strolled down the stairs. He stood on the landing, silent, watching and reading the room. His father had informed him of Lord Blacks death. He thought for sure Bella and Cissa would be with their mother. He nodded a greeting to Helen as she looked up, "Can someone explain why my father all but physically pulled me out of class just now and shoved me down this staircase?"

Rabastan shoved a chair in his direction, "Sit, we're doing the ritual tonight... and you need to know your part."

Antonin sat next to him, "They tried to kill my father Theo... they abducted Bella this morning, and when she got away they killed her father ... my father escaped because muggles are apparently as thick as trolls and know nothing of wizards...that's the condensed version... now let's go over this one last time, then I think we're ready," Antonin didn't look as sure as he sounded going over in detail each of their roles.

"What about your Dad Roddy? Isn't he still awake?" Theo asked.

"He's occupied with Lady Black and Lord Voldemort; I think they're locked away in his study, it's on the other side of the Manor. Even if they're awake, it's too far away to hear or see anything."

"As soon as it gets dark then," Antonin said." Which looks to be within the hour, let's go set up."

Lucius knelt down next to Bella, "Bella come on, get up, you have to be strong now. You need to walk to the gardens. Can you do that?"

Bella took a sip of her tea, lifted her head, and nodded," Yes." She placed her hand on his and let him lead the way.

Walden had lifted Narcissa into his arms and was following.

The sun was beginning to set over the rose garden. Tendrils of fog had drifted in. Antonin set the silver cauldron down and started muttering in Latin, weaving a delicate pattern with his wand. Runes emerged on the ground, intertwining, and forming a circle.

The sun sank over the hills and shadows crept toward them. A large raven perched itself on the white rose tree. Antonin looked up at it and motioned for them all to enter, and sealed it as Theo was the last to pass through. The silver cauldron began to glow, and a fire sprang to life beneath it.

Theo stood at the North. Clockwise stood Narcissa and Walden to the East. Lucius and Bella were representing the South. Rabastan then Rodolphus to the West with Helen on Theos right.

Antonin walked to the East, standing in front of Walden he said, "Element of air, I seek your blessings here, I invoke the power of wisdom and knowledge." Walden dropped the six blood-red seeds into his hand. The strange raven called out.

Antonin carefully added his ingredients to the cauldron. He walked to the West, saying to Rodolphus, "Element of water I seek your blessings here. I invoke the power of love and transformation." Rodolphus handed him the vial of the unicorn's tears. The raven chuckled.

Antonin poured the vial into the mix. He approached Lucius now, "Element of fire, I seek your blessings here. I invoke the power action and creativity." Lucius lay the Thestral stallions hair in his hand with the long-pointed fang. The raven flapped its wings and cawed.

Antonin sprinkled the hairs over the mix and dropped the tooth into the bottom. He then moved to stand in front of Theo. "Element of earth, I seek your blessings here. I invoke harmony and balance." Theo held out a single white rose. The raven pulled a feather from its wing and dropped it at Antonin's feet. He picked up the quill and smiled at the black bird.

Taking the rose and the feather and moving to the center, he dropped them into the cauldron. Antonin took out a small silver blade and cut the palm of his hand. His blood poured down into the mixture. One by one they each added their blood and stood back in the circle. Antonin moved his wand over the cauldron," "The power is gathered, the energies are one. The elements are summoned, the magics begun." The raven flew away.

Antonin cut open his other hand. He walked over to Helen and handed her the knife. She made a gash on her other hand and passed the knife on to Theo. Antonin took her bleeding hand in his, "My blood to your blood." The chant grew as the knife was passed around the circle. As it completed, Antonin dropped Theos hand and spiraled inward towing Helen with him. Changing the chant to, "Come thee Raven Mother come," Until all ten of them crowded around the little silver cauldron.

The mixture inside had turned to pure silver, the surface shimmering like a mirror. Each would take a turn, giving an offering to the Goddess invoked for their protection and the protection of the ones they loved.

Slowly a mist began to build on the surface of the liquid, it swirled and shifted, and rose. Forming first the shape of a woman, then three women, last to a raven. Morrigan had come. Her form coalesced in front of Antonin, tall with long black hair, slick as the raven's wing. A dark cloak swirled around her ebony armor; a longsword sheathed at her hip. She was the Warrior Goddess, The Raven Mother, The Morrigan. She smiled warmly down at Antonin and ran her fingers through his hair "What is your request child? That you would spill blood for my presence?

"We seek your protection ... from this." He held out his hand, the chunk of hair from Tom Riddle lay in the palm. The Goddess reached out and plucked the hairs from his hand. He trembled slightly as her fingers brushed against him. The Goddess strolled around the circle of children. She stopped at the base of the white rose tree and gently touched the headstone of Rodolphus and Rabastan's mother. With the wave of her hand, she conjured a place to sit. Holding her arms out, "Please, children come and sit with me." She pulled the girls closer to her, Helen and Narcissa on one knee and Bellatrix on the other. She then gathered the boys around her. "First, of all. What has my children so despondent they would perform a ritual beyond their years?"

"Muggles murdered our father, My Lady," Bella spoke up. "I fear the unicorn was right, and I'll go mad."

The Goddess laughed and kissed Bella's hair. "Do not believe everything a unicorn tells you. It's not that they lie, they just like to embellish. Fate is not written in stone. Of course, you can change it. Don't let the words of a silly horse destroy what's left of your childhood... Sometimes I think they do this on purpose you know. To see how you'll react... besides going mad is a matter of perspective, sometimes its required to appear mad in order to wreak havoc."

"So, it's true, what the unicorn showed me," Helen whispered

"Of course, it's true, to some extent. It can happen, but it doesn't mean that it will. You have control over your destiny. By the choices you make. Some of those choices demand a great sacrifice, Helen... and Rodolphus. For the price of my protection, I require the birth of this child, and there will be no choice in that matter. She must be born. But that will come later."

"Narcissa, I require the same of you, the price of your protection is a child as well. One male child, born of you and Lucius. Your child is crucial to the downfall of this creature." She held the chunk of hair in her hand, clenching her fist it turned to dust and scattered in the cool breeze. "With your son's help, this creature will not succeed."

"However, I fear a larger evil has been awakened because of him. And this my children will be where you are needed. This is the price I ask...For your protection and the ones you love...I require your devotion and service to me alone. You will swear on the blood of your ancestors and your future children, that you will stop this evil from devouring our world... It's where your daughter comes in Helen, and she will have ties to both worlds... And, Antonin, she will save your life as much as you will save hers. When the darkness creeps over you, she will be there to pull you to the light." The Dark Goddess took his hand hers; black vines wrapped tightly around his wrist crawling up his arm, thorns bit sharply into his skin. "Promise to me Antonin Dolohov, your heart, your soul, and you will protect this girl, you must all help her defeat the evil that infects us all."

Antonin dropped to his knees from the pain in his chest "I swear, I swear to protect her." He felt burning and tearing just over his heart. He pulled at the buttons on his shirt, feeling the blood drip down his waist. There on his chest was a perfect red rose, black vines started at the wrists and wound up over his shoulder ending with that rose, a banner fluttered beneath it with the name Hermione.

He looked up at the Dark Goddess still holding his hand," Who is Hermione?"

"The girl," she smiled at him once more, "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes!" Antonin gasped," More than anything!"

The Goddess placed her hands on either side of his face, kissing his forehead, slipping through time.

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Antonin stretched and yawned; his head was pounding. Bad dreams from the past still flashed through his memory. Had he been drinking last night? A delicate hand slipped around his waist, and a warm body snuggled behind his. Her breasts pushed against his back, and soft lips gently kissed his neck. Antonin breathed in deeply, the room smelled of lilacs and the sun streamed through the windows.

That soft little hand followed the trail of dark hair down his abdomen and curled around his already hardened cock. Antonin rolled over and looked into the face of his lover. It felt as if this were the first time he had ever seen her. She was like a dream; her brown curls tumbled down her back. His hands tangled in her hair and he claimed her mouth with his. "Hermione?" he whispered, "Is it really you?" He pulled her into his lap. She moaned softly and reached down between her legs and slid his cock inside of her. "Of course, it's me, who else were you expecting?" Hermione nipped at his bottom lip and rocked her hips running her hands over his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that love...oh fuck ... you just ... you just ... this just feels ... it feels like a dream... oh fuck, do that again!"

Hermione rolled her hips this time and gave his nipples a little twist, her hand rested on the rose tattoo. She leaned down and ran her tongue across his bottom lip. He moaned and pulled her closer, thrusting his tongue and his cock deeper inside of her. Antonin flipped her beneath him in one move, his eyes never leaving hers for fear the dream would end. This had to be a dream, and yet she felt so real. He rocked back on his heels bringing her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned against his mouth, he felt her quiver and tighten against him. A whimper escaped her lips. He wasn't far behind, he grabbed her hard by the hips and thrust twice. His hot breath brushed against her neck. Antonin placed soft kisses on her jawline and lay her back down on the mattress. "Good morning beautiful," he whispered against her skin, lacing his fingers through hers. With the sunlight now shining through the curtains and onto the bed, he could count the freckles on her nose. Her perfect legs still entwined with his. He lay back on the pillow, staring at the open beamed ceiling. Her hand traced the tattoos that covered his body, not just the rose above his heart. The rose with her name. He remembered the night the Goddess placed it on his chest; his eyes began to close. Antonin felt her lips on his. "Antonin." She whispered.

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"NOOOO...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! You can't do that to me! Take me back ... please, please, you have to take me back." Antonin was lying on the cold ground of the rose garden.

"That is your future Antonin; it's what lies ahead. You asked to see her, and that is what I did."

Antonin sat up, got to his feet, and dusted himself off. Blood from the mark on his chest had soaked through his shirt. If he closed his eyes he could still see her, hear her voice and the taste of her lips. "Will I be able to see her again?"

"Yes, from time to time I'll show her to you." The Dark Goddess took her seat once more at the foot of the rose tree. "You are all prepared to pay my price? To do what is needed, even at a great sacrifice. To destroy death to swallow it in victory? You may be looked upon as criminals and shunned by society for the things that must be done. You will stand bravely on that barrier that separates this world from theirs, to do violence in their stead. To protect their innocence, to protect your world from destruction?" They all nodded in agreement, "Then join hands once more."

Antonin reached out first, clasping hands with Helen. The black vines curled up her arm, spreading from hand to hand. The rose tattoo burned into each one. "It is done. 'Signed and sealed in blood.' My eaters of death."

She held out her hand toward Walden, "Come here my child, I wanted to wait until you were older to approach you. But I think it's time." She pulled Walden into her lap, and the others gathered around to listen.

"I loved a mortal man once... still love him." She looked at Walden with the same dark eyes.

"Your father is the only man I have ever loved enough to conceive a child with..., and I heard you the other day, when you said that your mother had abandoned you and that she mustn't have loved you... you are wrong Walden," she hugged him tightly, kissing his cheeks.

"Because I love you, I love you enough to give up everything I have. The Others would not allow it ... I can't stay here, in this realm. I can only travel back and forth...I had to leave; the Others made me leave, it's my sacrifice, my price that I must pay for your protection... I sent my Ravens to watch over you and your father... if you need me, child, just whisper to the Ravens and I will come." Her eyes searched his face for emotion, "Say something Walden, anything."

Walden wrapped his arms around his mother's neck and kissed her cheek, "I love you mum, I've missed you. I know you left when I was still a baby, but I remember you... I wish you could stay, do you think you could come to visit, please?"

"I'm not quite sure your father would want to see me, but how about I sneak in as another raven?"

"It's a deal." Walden slid from her lap, "Mum." He said with a huge grin.

"I will always be here with you children, now it's late, and you should all be in your beds... Do not fear that vile creature; you are under the wing of the Raven Mother. He cannot touch you. For a time, he may think he can, and that will be his demise."

The Dark goddess stood, she kissed each one. Healing their wounded hands and the blood that had soaked through their clothes. Waving her hand over the ritual area, she vanished any trace. "Now off to bed my little Death Eaters, you need your sleep to stay strong. And no more blood rituals...at least until you grow up."

The Morrigan, Dark Goddess, Raven Mother. Watched her son disappear into the Manor. She was asking for him to grow up far too soon, asking all of them to forego a childhood in preparation for a war that was sure to outlast their generation.

She sat quietly next to the grave of Mary Lestrange and her unborn daughter. The Others would be angry for her decision to tell her son. But that was just it. It was her choice and her son. It wasn't like Conall was a mere mortal. In truth, her Huntsman was like her son, a demigod. He carried the blood of the Fey. His father was the Lord of the Hunt, The Great Horned God of the forest. And he was a powerful wizard. Their son would be a force to be reckoned with.

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Anatoly paced the length of the study at Malfoy Manor. Abraxas was taking forever. The sun would be setting soon. The muggles had to have discovered his disappearance by now. And he wanted to catch them by surprise.

He helped himself to the private stock of firewhiskey he knew Abraxas kept behind a bookshelf. Pouring a double, he kicked his feet up on the desk. Halfway through the second pour, Abraxas joined him. He pushed Anatoly's feet from his desk and took the bottle from his hand. Pouring himself a drink and passed the bottle to Daemon as he stepped through the floo. Daemon pulled a swig straight from the source and passed it on to Conall.

Simon snatched the bottle from Conall's lips, "Share you, bloody cunt." Simon drained the last of the bottle.

Abraxas sat on the edge of his desk, watching his friends drain the last of his best whiskey. "Do we have some ideas on how we handle this."

Daemon was the first to speak up, as was always. "I say we pop in and stun the lot of them, take them out to the woods and let Conall's hounds do their best."

Conall laughed, "Or we could just let that Demon of yours out to play, now couldn't we. Bugger the poor bastards to death." Conall's laugh darkened, "Come on Daemon, I want to play, let's take them to your dungeon and bath in their blood... In fact, you owe me from the other night...with that cunt...sorry Jillian. I did not get to play with her. So, you owe me."

"Owe you what? A night of debauchery?"

"Yes, yes you do... you know our demons play well together." Conall shot his friend a wicked grin. Then turned his gaze to Abraxas. Abraxas held his hands up in surrender.

Anatoly was shaking his head, "Honestly, I worry about the two of you. You're both sick bastards you know that... Right."

"Say's the King of Curses most foul, you have no room to talk my Russian friend." Daemon tossed a fresh bottle of whiskey his way.

"Abraxas and Reinhard and I are the most normal, of this bunch. Now I am not sure what that say's about us as a whole. But I can tell you this my friend, I have never bathed in the blood of my enemy...okay maybe once or twice but never while buggering him." Anatoly chuckled.

"Well, don't knock it until you've tried it." Conall winked at him.

Anatoly laughed, "You keep your giant cock the bloody hell away from me, you fucking wanker."

"How many were there Anatoly?" Abraxas said as the laughter died down.

"The 'revealo' only showed the four, but that was hours ago. If they know I'm gone, there could be more, or they could have left the house."

"I'd like to elaborate a bit on Daemon and Conall's plans if I may." Abraxas stood and began to pace slowly around the room. "We need to keep them alive long enough to talk to them. After I interrogate them, I don't care what you do with them... Daemon, Conall... Simon, you sick bastard...just because you're quiet about it doesn't mean we don't all know." Abraxas joked with him.

"Since when is it looked down upon in this group to be a sick bastard, I thought it was a prerequisite!" Feigning hurt feelings, "I'm deeply offended, you cut me Abraxas!" referring to the other man's proclivity for the blade. Simon knew the ribbing was all in good nature. In some degree, they were all sick bastards.

Abraxas loved to kill with his silver blade, up close and personal. He enjoyed pursuing his prey, reveling in its fear as he chased it down. The terror in its eyes when cornered. He trembled just thinking of the hot blood pouring over his hand while he slipped his knife between its ribs, his cock grew hard at the thought of a muggle breathing its last. Oh, how he loved to fuck after a kill, "It is a prerequisite Simon, it most certainly is. And with that, I get to chase one of them." Abraxas smiled at his friends." Anyone object to popping in unannounced, stunning our prey and retiring to Nott Manor for a night of debauchery? That is to say, if our prey is still there."

"I move for a night of debauchery at Nott Manor!" Daemon raised the new bottle of whiskey in a toast.

"I second the motion." Anatoly swiped the bottle, taking a swig, and passing it on." Hey, can we pick up some muggle cunts as well?" He had new curses he wanted to try out. And it had been a long time since he had bathed in the blood of an enemy. Maybe he would try out Daemon and Conall's deal; he just preferred women, where Conall and Daemon didn't care what they stuck their cocks in. "Plus, if there's only four of them it'll make for a short party."

"You have a good point, my friend, Abraxas we may need more muggles." Daemon gave Abraxas a quizzical look, "Shall we ask the lovely Miss Jillian, I need to move her anyway... can't have her interrupting our fun tonight, now can we?"

"Right you are, my friend. But leave her there, I'll poke around in that pretty little head of hers and see what I can find... don't worry she won't remember a thing. We'll give her a sleeping-draught, and she can wake up in her own bed or your bed tomorrow clueless to the happenings of the previous night... while we're at it why don't you three check on our friends, see if they're missing you yet Anatoly?"

"Back in fifteen lads," Daemon said, and he and Abraxas stepped through the floo. Leaving the other three to recon the house.

Jillian had been sitting in the garden, her back to them. She never felt Abraxas slip into her mind and retrieve what he needed. What she felt was a pounding headache when he suddenly left. Daemon poured the sleeping draught into a cup of tea and instructed his house elf to give it to her. They were gone in under ten minutes. Stepping back through his floo as the other three apparated back into the study.

"Done and done?" Abraxas asked, "Are we set to go?"

"They must have given me something strong according to muggles; they still have no idea that I'm gone," Anatoly remarked. "My wards on the door haven't been touched. Oh, and speaking of touching. If we apparate into that basement... whatever you do ...Do not touch anything." A vicious grin spread across his face, "I left surprises."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the front room," Abraxas smirked, and tipped the bottle to his lips. "We now have several houses to hit, Thanks to our little friend Jillian... The plan has only changed as far as, how fast we hit each house, we leave no bodies. We stun and take them to Nott's dungeons... strip them before you dump them in a cell. We don't want any surprises, in the form of handguns or a blade." He passed the whiskey to Daemon.

Abraxas was staring at the far wall in the study when an idea came to him. Hanging on the wall where his collection of mid-seventeenth century French masks, "I have an idea," he smirked, that wonderfully evil Malfoy smirk, "If this is meant to be a night of unadulterated debauchery, a carnival of sorts... Let us don masks." Abraxas whisked the five most frightening off the wall. "Embellish them however you please, gentleman." Abraxas moved his wand over his robes, transforming them to a solid matte black, so dark it appeared to melt into the shadows. He smiled and kept the black dragon hide boots. The white shirt would have to go, transforming it as well, to the light absorbing black. With his clothing transformed Abraxas went to work on the mask, etching a scrollwork of thorn-covered vines into the silver. With a few magical adjustments, the mask slipped into place. He tipped up the mask and brought the bottle to his lips.

The firewhiskey flowed, and bottle after never-ending bottle passed around the room. Masks now transfigured. They were horrible and beautiful to behold. Conall had transformed the flat silver into the face of a stag; it's horns curling around his head in a crown.

Daemon had sharpened the teeth, and burning the image of his demon into the face.

As for Simon, he had charmed his to shimmer to the shape of a grinning skull.

Anatoly imbibed his with swirling purple flames, which had taken on a life of their own.

The men laughed and joked with one another, relaxed for the first time in over a week. It was cause for celebration. Lord Black had been a friend, and they would mourn his loss, and there would be retribution. Lord Black had not been part of their inner circle, but these muggles were about to pay dearly for their impudence. "Alright gentlemen, shall we pay our new friends a visit?"