DISCLAIMER
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.
11 July
The Dark Lord's eyes were carefully neutral as he watched all of his Death Eaters, minus Peter Pettigrew, file into the room. He had thought that after Regulus Black's betrayal, he would be done with having to deal with traitors in his mists. And yet... His eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched Dorcas Meadowes enter alongside Severus Snape: both wore masks, of course, but to him, all his followers were recognisable anyway.
When Pettigrew had told him about Meadowes' duplicity two weeks ago, he had been furious: according to Pettigrew, she had been on Dumbledore's side from the very beginning. That would mean he, the Dark Lord, had made a mistake since he was the one to interrogate her before he accepted her into his ranks.
Of course, it had helped taking his anger out on Pettigrew: why could he never figure out vital information before it got old? Meadowes had been in his ranks for months! Still, the man had his uses, especially since none in the Order knew of him, and the few who knew of him in his own ranks were people he would never need to doubt the loyalty of. But it was high time Pettigrew became more effective, and if the man succeeded in the mission he had given Pettigrew this time, the Order would be left reeling, low on both morale and people. That was a big if, however – he didn't hold out any great hopes.
There was one thing about the revelation of Meadowes as a spy that bothered the Dark Lord more than her treachery, and that was that now he was forced to mistrust Severus Snape as well. The man had, after all, been the one to bring Meadowes to him: had he known? If he had, that would mean he too was likely a part of Dumbledore's Order...and that bothered the Dark Lord a great deal, and he was determined to get to the bottom of things today.
For the past two weeks since Pettigrew told him of Meadowes, the Dark Lord had observed both her and Snape as closely as he could, noticing nothing strange about either of them. To each other, they seemed to be coolly neutral, though Meadowes could sometimes be seen throwing Snape looks of badly veiled desire: looks that were not returned. Hidden under a cloaking spell, he had thrown Legilimency attacks at both of them: Snape's thoughts had revealed nothing suspicious, but Meadowes' mind had confirmed Pettigrew's announcement. It made Voldemort wish he had tested her with Legilimency when she first came to him, and it was something he would make sure to do with all future recruits.
Other than giving him a chance to observe Meadowes and Snape's interaction with each other and others, the past two weeks had also given the Dark Lord the time he needed to decide what to do about the opportunity he had had in his hands. He could use Meadowes to spread false information unknowingly into the Order, which was also a fitting punishment for a double-crosser. But while that would have been the strategic thing to do, in the end, Voldemort realised the knowledge of having a traitor in his ranks rankled too much. The only fate Meadowes deserved was a painful execution, which was also the only thing that would satisfy him.
Voldemort rose from his throne, ignoring his Death Eater's looks of surprise at this action. "My loyal followers," he said with a smile "How...good it is to see you. I have summoned you here today to give one of you a special acknowledgement..." His smile widened, red eyes glinting as murmurs of anticipation rose.
Dorcas was one of the few who did not let out any expectant sound. Instead, a frown appeared between her eyebrows, especially as she caught sight of the Dark Lord's smile, which to her, rather than comforting, seemed sinister. And...was he looking straight at her? She swallowed, her heart suddenly beating faster.
"Dorcas Meadowes...come. Take off your mask. Stand before me."
Dorcas nearly fainted. Why was he calling her name? And in front of what seemed to be every single Death Eater when most of their identities were usually kept hidden even amongst themselves? She had done nothing to deserve 'special acknowledgement...' Her stomach clenched in sudden realisation and she closed her eyes. Somehow, the Dark Lord must have learned of her true loyalties. Had Snape told him? No...they were on the same side now...right?
On trembling legs, she pulled off her mask and stepped forward, head held high. If she was going to die, she was not going to do it on her knees. "Yes, my Lord?" She forced herself to say. Perhaps she was overreacting...
"I was...surprised when a very reliable source whispered in my ear about you spying on me for Dumbledore." Her hope died. "Did I not recruit you for the very opposite?"
Dorcas head rose a fraction higher as whispers and outraged murmurs rose around her. "TRAITOR!" Bellatrix screeched, one of the few Death Eaters not wearing a mask. "I'll gouge your eyeballs out!"
"Well, that was your mistake, I suppose," Dorcas said, forcing her voice not to shake. The act was up; her minutes were numbered. There was no use to deny anything or make excuses. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed.
"Yes...I suppose it was. One I will not make again, I assure you."
"I'm glad to know my presence has taught you something," Dorcas mocked. "Voldemort," she added, relishing in the gasps around her. It was the first – and probably the last - time she had said that name, and she was glad she had done it without stuttering.
Voldemort snarled. "Did no one know of her treachery? Did no one suspect? Are you all blind idiots?"
In hopes of enraging the Dark Lord enough to make her death quick and relatively painless, Dorcas was about to point out that that would make him at least just as blind and idiotic, but didn't get the chance, for someone had stepped forward -
Severus.
"I suspected," he said, lowering his mask, and Dorcas' eyes widened. What was he doing? If he was truly on Dumbledore's side, the last thing he should do was risk his life by bringing attention to himself... If he wasn't, however... The possibility of that stung more than Dorcas would have liked to admit.
"Severus," the Dark Lord's voice was harsh. "Explain."
Severus bowed his head, his voice smooth and self-assured. "Meadowes and I have been sharing a bed for several months. During this time, I began to realise that she was being...far too inquisitive about certain matters that she has no business knowing. This led me to the conclusion that her loyalty may not be entirely yours, my Lord."
Dorcas stared. Severus was playing the Dark Lord – and masterfully, by spinning facts, by leaving out their 'deal' about Lily Potter... And by telling the Dark Lord he had suspected Dorcas treachery, he was also protecting himself: if the Dark Lord looked inside Snape's head, he would only find confirmation of something Severus had already admitted knowledge about - her betrayal.
Severus story would only be further strengthened by his memories, which of course contained conversations during which Dorcas was asking questions. That Severus had known of her treachery from the very beginning and Snape's answers to her inquires, could be easily hidden or twisted by a master Occlumence – which Severus was. He truly was a Slytherin to the core, and Dorcas was impressed. By doing this, he was also making himself out to be more intelligent than all the other Death Eaters: he had suspected her disloyalty – they hadn't.
"Why did you not tell me this?" Voldemort spat.
"I was afraid I was wrong," Snape admitted. "I knew that if I went to you with my suspicions, you would immediately punish her with death. I will admit I managed to get somewhat...attached during my sexual encounters with Meadowes. I didn't want to take the risk of her being killed for something she might be innocent of, and therefore, I opted not to tell you until I found conclusive proof."
Dorcas' eyes widened even further. Why had Severus told him that, when he easily could have come up with some other explanation. Telling the Dark Lord he had feelings for her would only make him seem weak... Unless he actually did have feelings, feelings he could not hide with Occlumency, and he needed to ascertain a cover for them for when Voldemort found them in his head.
Suddenly, Dorcas felt near tears. All this time, she had thought Severus was completely indifferent to her...and now she learned that might not be the case at all, but during a time when it was far too late to tell him how much she appreciated it – how much she had come to appreciate him.
"Do you truly think me so incompetent I would not ascertain Meadowes loyalty for myself after you told me of your suspicions?" Voldemort said coldly.
"Of course not, and I see now how foolish I was," Severus' said, bowing in the Dark Lord's direction. "In hindsight, I realise I should have gone to you immediately." Dorcas held her breath, hoping the Dark Lord's anger at Severus for 'withholding information' wasn't strong enough to order him killed.
"Yes, you should have. You overstepped your boundaries, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed.
"And it is inexcusable," Snape acknowledged. "But I did take certain measures to make sure nothing of importance got back to Dumbledore. By being her bed-partner, she has regarded me as her main source of information. And just like she tried to use me to find out your plans, I wanted to use her to find out what the Order was up to, to see how much – if anything – she was telling them."
Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he lifted his wand, pointing at Severus. Dorcas forced herself to not cry out in fear: if she did anything, she would blow Severus' cover and both their lives would be over. Instead, she forced a mask of anguished betrayal onto her face, just in case someone turned to look in her direction.
"Legilimens," the Dark Lord hissed and Severus stiffened as his mind was entered.
Dorcas swallowed. The Dark Lord wasn't buying it... It seemed to take forever before the Dark Lord lowered his wand. But he did lower it. Had Severus succeeded in his bluff? "I want to see you after this meeting," the Dark Lord hissed and Dorcas inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Whatever Voldemort had seen in Snape's head, it must have been satisfying enough: there would be no reason he would wait to kill Severus in a private setting. His cover was safe – as long as Voldemort did not decide to enter her head as well, in which case, they were screwed.
Dorcas knew Occlumency, true, but she didn't have Severus' skill, and right now, her emotions were all over the place, which meant her mind must be an open book. But to her relief, the Dark Lord made no move to do invade her thoughts. Severus was safe.
"Of course," Severus said, bowing once more before stepping back into the circle of Death Eaters. Dorcas took a deep breath, meeting the Dark Lord's eyes squarely. This was it... The only question now was how much Voldemort would torture her before he killed her...
For several long moments, the Dark Lord only stared at her. And then, he lifted his wand. "Avada Kedavra," he intoned dispassionately, and Dorcas couldn't believe her luck as the green curse sped towards her –
Dorcas' body fell to the floor, still, her brown eyes wide open in – was that shock and relief?
"Let this be a lesson to all of you: if you are harbouring any thoughts of eventually betraying me, let them go. For I will find out. And your deaths won't be as painless as Meadowes, that I assure you," the Dark Lord spoke coldly. "Bellatrix."
"Yes, my Lord," the witch simpered.
"Take Meadowes' body and dispose of it somewhere public."
"Can I play with her first?"
Severus forced himself not to flinch, to not react. Dorcas was gone – there was no soul in that body, it didn't matter if Bellatrix had some fun with it... but no matter how much he tried to convince himself, he could not stop his stomach from churning.
"No."
Inside, Severus nearly sobbed with relief.
Bellatrix pouted. "But – "
" – I said no," Voldemort repeated harshly. "But make sure it is evident her death came by my hand. I want to make sure the Order gets the message."
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix muttered, sulking.
"Severus, come," Voldemort said, his black robes swirling around his legs as he left, opening a door at the other end of the chamber, revealing a smaller set of rooms. Severus entered them stiffly, standing completely still as the Dark Lord followed, closing the door behind him, watching as he began to pace back and forth.
"I trust I will not need to tell you to not take any liberties in the future?" He said bitingly.
"No, my Lord," Severus said quietly.
Voldemort paused. "I admit, I am...concerned that you let feelings for Meadowes get in the way of telling me of your suspicions. Your first loyalties should always be to me, Severus."
"I made a mistake," Severus confessed.
"Yes. But it could have been worse," Voldemort mused. "I am impressed you managed to limit Meadowes' knowledge of our operations." Severus inclined his head wordlessly. "And to use her to find out information of Lily Potter...tssk...you seem to have a penchant for getting obsessed with women, Severus. Red-heads in particular." Severus did not react, even as the Dark Lord's red eyes glinted with amusement. "Your thoughts made it clear you still want her, and don't worry: I made a promise she would be yours, and I intend to keep it."
"You are most generous," Severus mumbled.
"Yes." The Dark Lord grinned widely. "It is almost sad to see how predictable you are, Severus. Women will be your undoing. Still, it is good to know something is constant. Your lust for Lily Potter and the need to dominate her seem to be two of those things, your little fling with Meadowes notwithstanding."
"Now, with Meadowes revealed to be a traitor, I find myself in need of someone who can do the work she was supposed to: spy on the Order, Dumbledore in particular. And since you seem to fancy yourself a secret agent, what with your attempts to use Meadowes and discern her true colours, you are the person that will take her place."
Severus stared. "Me?"
"Yes. And what's more, I'm going to tell you exactly how you're going to do it: not only has yet another Defence Against the Dark Arts professor resigned from Hogwarts, but Horace Slughorn has finally retired. This means the position for Head of Slytherin is open, along with the teaching posts for Potions and Defence. I want you to apply: I don't care which of the two you end up teaching as long as you're hired as Head of Slytherin. With you entrenched at Hogwarts, it will put you in a perfect position to spy on Dumbledore, and as Head of Slytherin, you will be able to influence a whole new generation of children to our way of thinking." The Dark Lord looked extremely satisfied with himself.
Severus couldn't quite stop the grimace that crossed his face. "Children?" he repeated, the distaste obvious.
"Yes. Children. Do you have a problem with this?"
"No," Severus said sourly, knowing better than to argue with the Dark Lord.
"Excellent," the Dark Lord said. "You may leave." He waved his hand and Severus quickly departed the room, the Dark Lord's chuckles ringing in his ears.
Immediately after he left Voldemort, Severus apparated to Hogsmeade and had to immediately avert his eyes when he saw Dorcas' body – relieved of any clothing - strung up by her arms to a flagpost. People were gathered around it, and he saw Minerva McGonagall and Madame Rosmerta work to get her down, tears in both their eyes.
Above her head, the Dark Mark could be seen, along with the words 'A TRAITOR'S INEVITABLE FATE - Lord Voldemort.'
Shuddering, he pulled up his hood and hurried up the road leading towards Hogwarts. Just as he reached the castle entrance, the double doors opened, revealing a sad-looking Dumbledore. "Severus. I was just on my way down to Hogsmeade...but let's go up to my office. I believe I will want to see your recent memory for myself."
"You've heard, then?" Severus said, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice sounded, falling into step with the Headmaster as they made their way through the empty corridors in the castle to Dumbledore's office.
"Yes...Minerva was at the Three Broomsticks when Bellatrix showed up with her...message. She immediately sent me a Patronus." There was no need to elaborate. "Did he make her suffer much?" the Headmaster added after a short pause.
Severus shook his head. "It was...surprisingly quick."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I am glad to hear it. What happened?"
Severus shrugged. "The Dark Lord found out about her true allegiance. He's not the only one with traitors in his midst." He gave Dumbledore a meaningful glance and the older man sighed.
"It seems not. So it is confirmed."
"It was already confirmed," Severus said harshly. "Both myself and Dorcas informed you of it. And how did your traitor, whoever it is, find out about Dorcas' true loyalties anyway? I thought you had told only a selected few to keep what just happened from happening."
For a moment, Dumbledore looked shamefaced. "I made a revelation to the entire Order as a whole a couple of weeks ago."
"You did what?" Severus asked, voice low and filled with disbelief, hoping that he had heard wrong.
"It was a risk, but I hoped you and Dorcas were mistaken about there being a traitor in the Order – that Voldemort spread it as a rumour to make himself seem more powerful." At Severus' expression, Dumbledore added: "I admit that sometimes my need to see the best in people doesn't always work out."
Severus laughed harshly. "You must be joking. You're telling me you decided to gamble with Dorcas' life – and by extension my own – because you didn't want to believe one of your dear Order-members might have turned? Did you think so little of our abilities to bring you vital information that you found us to be so expendable?"
'Everyone is expendable,' Dumbledore thought sadly. Out loud, he said: "I made a mistake – it happens to the best of men."
"You can't afford to make mistakes," Severus said, breathing heavily through his nose. "You're the so called leader of the light. People trust you! I have put my trust in you! I thought the Dark Lord was bad, but at least I expect him to stab me in the back eventually. And now I find out you might do it as well, whenever you think it will serve the Greater Good?"
"You are wrong," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy. "Liquorice," he added. They had reached the gargoyle statue guarding the revolving stairs to his office, and upon hearing the password, it immediately jumped aside. They rode the stairs to the office in silence. Once there, Dumbledore pulled out his pensieve, and without needing to be prompted, Severus immediately pulled out a strand of memory from his head, discarding it into the basin. "Do you want to enter with me?" Dumbledore asked.
"No," Severus said shortly, looking away. The Headmaster nodded, and dipped his face into the pensieve, his body disappearing.
The clock ticked away, and for Severus, it seemed to be an eternity before the Headmaster reappeared in his office, looking contemplative. "I am impressed, Severus. If it can be said that one good thing came from Dorcas' death, it is that it allowed you to advance your own standing and establish your loyalty firmly in Voldemort's mind. And of course I will hire you as the new Potions professor and the new Head of Slytherin House: that will make it a lot easier for you to report to me on Voldemort's doings."
"I was hoping you would give me the Defence post rather than the one for Potions," Severus admitted.
"Oh, I'm afraid I cannot do that," Dumbledore said lightly. "I need you to last longer than a year. The Defence post is cursed, as I'm sure you know."
"Very well," Severus said. "Is there anything else? Or may I leave?"
"You may - feel free to use my floo," Dumbledore offered. "And now I really need to get down to Hogsmeade...I have no doubt there will be Aurors there by now. Will you come to Dorcas' funeral?"
"No," Severus said shortly, moving over to Dumbledore's fireplace and throwing in a handful of floo-powder. "How could I explain my presence? Unless, of course, you decide to make another gamble and tell everyone I am your spy as well," he added sarcastically as he stepped into the fire. "Spinner's End," he said and disappeared in a flash of green flame, not giving Dumbledore a chance to respond.
"Can I look now?" Buffy asked, her eyes closed tightly as Remus led her into the kitchen.
"Alright," Remus answered, and Buffy slowly opened her eyes, gasping as she caught sight of the romantic setting. The worn kitchen table was covered in a red silk cloth, there were candles lit and a heavenly aroma now reached Buffy's nose from the bowls of food on the table.
"Re...this is wonderful! What's the occasion?"
"Oh, nothing special," Remus lied, while fingering the ring box in his pocket. It had been a month and half since he bought it and he felt it was high time he 'popped the question' before Buffy found the ring on her own. Proposing over a candlelit home cooked dinner for two might be slightly cliché but it was also an old classic and from the expression on Buffy's face, he could tell she was appreciating the setting.
Buffy grinned as Remus pulled out a chair for her. "This is so romantic, Re. Are you sure there's nothing special going on? No anniversary or something I've forgotten?"
"No. I just wanted to let you know how much I love you," Remus said honestly as he sat down and Buffy's smile widened.
"I already know that."
"Well, a romantic gesture has never hurt anyone," Remus said, while moving to pull up the ring. At first he had planned to wait until after dinner, but he honestly didn't think he would last that long without turning into a nervous, gibbering mess. "Buffy, I – "
The sound of the fireplace flaring up interrupted him, and Sirius' voice was heard: "Buffy! Moony! Are you there?" Buffy and Remus exchanged looks, and Remus quickly stuffed ring-box back into his pocket.
Standing up, they moved into the living room, and immediately spotted Sirius' head in the fireplace, his expression sad.
"What is it, Pads?" Remus asked.
"Dorcas is dead," Sirius said bluntly and Remus rocked back in shock even as Buffy numbly sank down on their threadbare sofa. "Bellatrix strung her body up in Hogsmeade less than two hours ago. We think Voldemort killed her."
"He must have found out about her being a spy..." Buffy breathed out in horror. "How?"
"Someone from the Order must have told him." Sirius gave Remus a hostile look, and Remus' heart became even heavier as he realised what his friend was wordlessly insinuating. He had thought Sirius was over his suspicion...but apparently not.
"Dumbledore should never have told everyone about her status," Buffy said bitterly.
"No," Sirius agreed. "He shouldn't have. Anyway, I just flooed to let you know. Dumbledore assigned me as messenger boy for everyone." His head disappeared and Buffy and Remus exchanged looks. The romantic atmosphere was completely obliterated, thoughts of dinner, and in Remus case, a proposal, forgotten, as grief took its place.
15 July
Benjy Fenwick was a man of habit, something the war had not changed – if anything, it had only made him more determined to keep going the way he always had been: Voldemort and his Death Eaters could wreak as much havoc as they liked, but that was no reason to change things in his life. To Benjy, that was the same as letting them win.
Still, Benjy realised the danger in being predictable, and the need for caution had become even more apparent since Dorcas' murder. She had been the first Order member to die – and hadn't that been a wakeup call? Somehow, most of the people in the Order had managed to convince themselves that they were invincible, but Dorcas' death had been a sharp reminder of their own mortality: they weren't safe. And with rumours of a spy in their own camp, something that had more or less been confirmed with Dorcas' death, Benjy had decided that keeping to his routines weren't worth his life - and yet, here he stood.
It was the height of irony, Benjy thought to himself. Normally, on Wednesdays, Benjy went running in Hyde Park after work, something he had started after Buffy began to train the Order in physical fitness. However, this Wednesday, Benjy had thought 'better safe than sorry' and had instead gone to James Park some distance away. He had only let a few people – people he had thought he could trust - know of his plans when he'd suggested they joined him...
And yet here he was, surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides. One of those he had told must have betrayed his whereabouts. The question was who: Remus, Peter, Sirius, Sturgis or one of the Prewett twins? None of them seemed likely to be the traitor. To Benjy's surprise – and relief – none of the Death Eater's made a move to attack the muggles also in the park, though the group was given some strange looks by them. Though none of them wore masks, wizarding robes weren't exactly inconspicuous.
"Benjy Fenwick," one of the Death Eaters, with a pale face with protruding cheekbones, spoke. Benjy wondered if he was the one in charge since he had spoken first.
"That depends on who's asking," Benjy said flippantly, fingering his wand while glancing from one Death Eater to the other. He wouldn't be able to defeat all four before they managed to kill him - but perhaps he could bring one or two down with him...
The Death Eater smiled. "I am Mulciber."
Benjy swallowed. According to Dumbledore, who must have gotten the information from Dorcas before she'd been killed, there were two Death Eaters called Mulciber in Voldemort's ranks: both were considered high-level Death Eaters, and one had even attended school with Voldemort. The other, his son, was younger, and clearly the one standing in front of him. One of them was also rumoured to specialise in the Imperius Curse...was this that same Mulciber? Were they going to cast that on him, and force him to reveal information about the Order? Or were they going to make him kill his friends?
The Imperius curse had already caused extreme horrors in the war, the details of which were not released to the public and only known amongst certain people in the Ministry. Benjy only knew because it had been a subject brought up at an Order meeting, several years before, once the Unforgivable first began to be used, as a warning to the members to be careful and as an example of the things Voldemort did and sanctioned.
Families had been torn apart, minds broken, by the curse, as people were controlled and made to do unspeakable things to those they loved: fathers could be forced to rape their daughters, mothers forced to slit their own sons' throats, siblings forced to slowly kill themselves in front of each other, and lovers forced to bludgeon their partner to death. If there was one spell Benjy Fenwick truly feared, it was the Imperius curse and what the caster would make him do.
"I see you've heard of me." He turned to look at his fellow three Death Eaters. "With me are Avery, Rosier and Nott."
"Enough with the pleasantries," the one called Nott spat. "Why are you telling him who we are?"
"It's not like he's going to get the chance to tell anybody," Evan Rosier said, leaning his head on Avery's shoulder. "Right, love?"
Avery smirked. "You are correct as always," he said, reaching up with a hand to caress Evan's thick hair.
"Stop it, you two," Nott snarled. "You're making a scene." And true enough, some of the passing muggles gave the two Death Eaters disgusted looks, hurrying away. Others stopped for a moment to stare in fascination.
"Now, Nott, don't be such a sourpuss. There's no reason to take your frustration over your wife's recent death out on us," Rosier, sniggered.
Nott glared. "Let's not forget where we are and who we are representing. The Dark Lord gave us a mission."
"Nott is quite right," Mulciber said, and somewhat reluctantly, Avery and Rosier turned their attention back to Benjy. During their conversation, the Order member had made an attempt to apparate away, without success: one of the Death Eater's must have put up an anti-apparation ward on the park. "Imperio," Mulciber intoned, pointing his wand at Benjy, sounding almost bored.
A floating sensation took hold of Benjy and all of his thoughts and worries disappeared, being slowly replaced with gentle euphoria. His tense stance relaxed, his wand nearly slipping from his suddenly limp fingers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Mulciber's voice echo: Go to the Order...kill as many Order members as you can...
Benjy began to move, only distantly aware of the four people blocking his way moving aside. He had already walked several feet when another voice, more nagging, appeared: Don't. Why would you want to do that? They're your friends... His walk slowed.
The four Death Eaters watched in satisfaction as Benjy began to walk away from them. "Excellent job as always," Avery said with a wide grin, clapping Mulciber on the back. "The Dark Lord will be pleased."
Mulciber, however, was frowning. "Something is wrong," he muttered. "He's slowing down..." Just as the words left his lips, Fenwick stopped completely, swaying slightly on the spot. "He's beating the curse!" Mulciber spat angrily in disbelief and raised his wand again. "IMPERIO," he repeated, his voice stronger, more insistent this time. Once again, the spell hit Fenwick. For a few seconds, it seemed like the spell had taken effect: Fenwick continued to walk away, but then, he stumbled, grasping his head and falling to his knees. "Impossible..." Mulciber's eyes were wide in incredulity and he lowered his wand in shock.
All four Death Eaters could only stare, as Fenwick got to his feet and on slightly unbalanced legs, he turned to face them, his eyes clear and free from any sign of Mulciber's curse. For a moment, it looked like he was debating with himself on what to do: then, he turned and began to run, firing spells over his shoulder, and the Death Eaters swore as they were forced to duck.
"How did he do it?" Rosier asked, his voice filled with reluctant admiration.
"I don't know," Mulciber bit out, seeing Fenwick managing to overcome his Unforgivable as a personal insult.
"He's getting away!" Avery shouted angrily, while sending off a purple curse towards Benjy, who jumped out of the way, seemingly instinctively as he wasn't even looking at them.
"That cannot be allowed," Nott said grimly.
"Well, since he seems to be able to fight my Imperius, that means he is useless to us alive," Mulciber said. "On three, cast the most powerful blasting curse you know – one, two, three - "
Four curses sped towards Benjy – one, he managed to evade, but the other three impacted with his back...
When Sirius arrived with Moody and a few other Aurors, the Ministry having been alerted to a Dark Mark cast above the muggle park, he immediately heaved up his dinner when he caught sight of the remnants of what had once been Benjy Fenwick: bits and pieces.
At the same time as Benjy Fenwick met his death, eight other Death Eaters had gathered outside a suburban home. Hidden under invisibility and disillusionment spells, they worked quickly and efficiently to take down the many wards around the house. It was extremely easy: somehow, the Dark Lord had known exactly how many and which wards and protection spells the house was under.
"Hurry up now," one of the Death Eaters, Travers, whispered. "We need this to coincide perfectly with the other attack on Fenwick in that park."
"We know, Travers," another, older Death Eater said, his aristocratic voice smooth and calming. "You don't need to worry: this is not my first day on the job you know."
"It better go off without a hitch," Travers said darkly. "The Dark Lord is counting on us."
Mulciber – Mulciber senior - began to look slightly annoyed at Travers presumptuous air. "And he picked me to lead this mission, not you, Travers," he spoke up.
"For some unfathomable reason," Travers muttered, resentment clear in his voice.
"Oh, he's going to get it now," a third Death Eater sniggered.
"Shut up, Gibbon," a fourth muttered, glancing anxiously at Mulciber.
Mulciber's attention, however, had not left Travers, and now he let an eyebrow rise: "Are you questioning the Dark Lord?" he asked.
Travers' eyes widened innocently. "Of course not. I am just trying to hurry things along."
"Then stop interrupting and help the others with the wards. Since you seem so eager to get them down," Mulciber added with a smirk.
Travers made a rather ugly grimace in Mulciber's direction when the man turned away, the gesture looking rather obscene considering the man's age. Thoroughly amused, Gibbon began to snigger. This time, however, Mulciber noticed, and quickly turned back to them. Travers hastily arranged his face into a neutral expression, while Gibbon swallowed a final chuckle.
But it seemed as though nothing escaped Mulciber's notice. "Do not forget, Travers, that there are more members from the inner-circle here than you and I, and I expect I will have their full backing when I report to the Dark Lord about this once we are done here."
Travers blanched. "Now, there's no need to be hasty – "
"Then get to work and start acting your age," Mulciber said coldly. "From the way you're behaving, I'm expecting you to announce you're really an uneducated muggle who's only playing at being a wizard any second." Gibbon burst into renewed sniggers, this time joined by the fourth Death Eater. "That goes for you too, Gibbon, Jugson," Mulciber said and the two abruptly fell silent.
For a few minutes, the three Death Eaters worked in silence together with the four other Death Eaters at the scene, Mulciber keeping watch. But then... "No, you idiot!" Jugson hissed to Gibbon. "If you disengage that anchoring rune with that spell, you'll set off an alarm so loud you'll wake the entire neighbourhood!"
"Oh, shut up! I know what I'm doing," Gibbon hissed. Then... "But in this instance, you might be right," he added grudgingly after a moment.
Jugson smirked. "Like I said."
Gibbon stuck out his tongue. "Know-it-all."
Three seconds later, Gibbon and Jugson were gibbering like children, and Mulciber sighed, exchanging tired looks with the Lestrange brothers. "Can you make them shut up and concentrate?" He asked them, his voice low and drawn. "Truly, I almost expected this kind of behaviour from Gibbon, but from Jugson..." he shook his head.
Rodolphus nodded. "They're giving me a headache, too," he said, then turned his attention to the two bickering Death Eaters. "Both of you, be quiet, or invisibility spells or not, we will be discovered."
"Aww, are you missing Bellatrix, 'Dolphie?" Gibbon mocked, happy to get a new target to pick on. "Sad she wasn't allowed on this mission?"
Rodolphus Lestrange threw him a disgusted look. "Unlike you I know when to be professional and how to separate business and pleasure," he said coldly. "I am quite aware that having Bellatrix on this mission would be disastrous, considering we are trying to keep a low profile. I might love my wife, but I am quite aware that she doesn't know the meaning of the word 'discreet.'"
His brother, Rabastan, put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Just ignore him. Clearly, Gibbon needs a few more missions under his belt before he grows up."
Gibbon spluttered.
"That's the last ward," Travers interrupted, and the final two Death Eaters who had been silent so far – both of them new to Voldemort's ranks - grinned in anticipation.
Mulciber let a satisfied smile show at last. "Excellent."
"Do you think they've noticed their protections are down yet?" Jugson asked curiously, twirling his wand.
Rabastan threw an almost bored look through a nearby window. "No. They're having dinner."
"Well, then I believe it's just about time for the dessert," Jugson said, raising his wand in anticipation.
"Just a moment," Mulciber interrupted. "Like Rodolphus reminded us, this mission calls for discretion." A sinister smile appeared on his aristocratic face. "Let us knock on the door, like...civilised people."
All eight Death Eaters chuckled evilly and let their disillusionment spells drop. Half of them moved to the front door, while the other half went to the back.
'DING-DONG.'
Marlene McKinnon stopped in the middle of a sentence as she heard the doorbell ring.
"I'LL GET IT!" Her daughter shouted excitedly, jumping down from her chair.
Marlene's husband, Ian, chuckled, knowing whoever their visitor was, it must be a friend: only people in the Order Marlene was a member of could get past their wards unharmed. And muggles were completely unaffected by them. Anyone else could expect to be shocked to kingdom come if they came within ten feet of the house. "Are you expecting company, love?" he asked her but Marlene shook her head.
They could hear Chelsea open the door now. "Who are you?" They heard her asking.
"Your worst nightmare," a deep voice said, and Ian and Marlene immediately jumped up, looks of alarm on both their faces. But it was too late. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" They heard a voice shout, and then came the dull thud a body made when it hit the floor.
"CHELSEA!" Marlene screamed and began to run towards the hall, but Ian held her back, his face deathly pale.
"We can't do anything for her," he said, his voice trembling. "Where is your wand?" Marlene stared at him blankly, still in deep shock. "Marlene, where is your wand?" Ian repeated, shaking his wife. Finally, Marlene woke herself up from her stupor, and pulled her wand out from its holster.
"Is anybody home?" Another voice sing-songed.
"We'll escape through the backdoor," Ian decided, since he had no idea how many Death Eaters there were. His wife, however, disagreed.
"Like hell we are," Marlene spat. "I am not running like a coward from those monsters – they killed our daughter!"
Before Ian could react, Marlene had torn herself out of his arms and headed towards the hall. Upon spotting her, the three Death Eaters immediately sent spells towards her through the open hall door, but Marlene ducked to the side. "THERE'S ONLY FOUR OF THEM!" she yelled for her husband to hear, her eyes burning with a need to get revenge for her daughter's death.
"Actually, you are wrong, my dear," she heard one of the Death Eaters chuckle. "There are eight of us."
Marlene froze. "What – "
The sound of the backdoor exploding reached her ears. Two seconds later, Ian came running towards her. "There's four more coming from that way," he panted, pointing towards the book of the house. He sent a spell towards the hall door which made it flow off its hinges and towards the three Death Eaters in the hall, followed by a spell that made the air thicken, making it almost impossible for them to see and even breathe. The Death Eaters swore.
Marlene swallowed, while sending in spells into the now misty hall, hoping at least one or two would hit a target. "Then we make our stand here," she said grimly, knowing they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. With four Death Eaters in front of them and four behind them, she knew it was highly unlikely she and Ian would get out alive.
Ian nodded grimly, coming to the same realisation as his wife. "I'll see you on the other side," he said, squeezing her hand as they got into position, back to back, Marlene facing the front hall and Ian the kitchen towards the back.
"And Chelsea." Marlene's voice trembled.
"And Chelsea," Ian agreed.
When the Aurors showed up, they found the inside of the McKinnon's house had been blasted to pieces. The body of young Chelsea McKinnon was found in the hall, buried under the remnants of a door, her eyes wide and surprised. Less than a foot away laid the head of a dead Death Eater: his body had been found on the outer stairs. Upon reaching the area between the hall and the kitchen, they found the bodies of Marlene and Ian McKinnon, their wands still in their cool hands. Later investigation showed that Ian had been hit with the Avada Kedavra, while Marlene had died by a blood-boiling curse.
In the kitchen entrance, they found another dead Death Eater, his entrails spilling out of his gut. From the blood tracks on the floor and the way one of his arms were stretched out, it seemed he had tried to drag himself away from the battle after being hit.
It was impossible to say how many Death Eaters attacked the McKinnon's, but considering their family's reputation as one of the most powerful wizards of their time, it was likely that You-Know-Who would not risk sending any less than five or six. Either way, they had gone out fighting, in defence of each other.
"I am...displeased," was the first words out of the Dark Lord's mouth once Travers left his report. "The group ambushing Fenwick in the park was a lot more successful, even if they were forced to deviate from their plan when the Imperius proved ineffective. Tell me how it is possible that of the eight followers I sent to the McKinnon's home - of which at least four can be considered part of my elite - only six returns?"
Travers looked down at the floor, hating that he was the one who had to explain things to the Dark Lord, even though Mulciber had been the one in charge. But the lucky bastard was in the hospital wing... "They were...stronger than we expected, my Lord," he finally muttered. He just knew that if he had been the one to lead the mission, everything would have been faultless.
"They shouldn't have been that strong," Voldemort spat. "I gave you a very detailed description on their wards and how to bypass them. I even gave you a bloody map of the inside of the house! I warned you that they were powerful. I practically handed them to you gift wrapped! And yet two of my new Death Eaters, two who took a long time to recruit, are dead. Gibbon is bedbound for at least a month, Mulciber had half his bones broken, Jugson will be lucky if he regains his sight in his left eye, and you three are amongthe most pathetic sight I've ever seen."
Travers glanced at Rodolphus and Rabastan. Like himself, their robes were in a bedraggled state, they were covered in dust, scratches and open wounds, their blood dripping onto the Dark Lord's floor. Unlike himself, however, both Rabastan and Rodolphus held their heads high, looking squarely ahead.
"What kind of half-arsed plan did you come up with?" the Dark Lord demanded to know, snarling.
"I didn't come up with anything!" Travers defended himself. "It was Mulciber's plan! It's not myfault – "
" – I don't want to hear excuses," the Dark Lord hissed.
"It actually was Mulciber's plan, my Lord," Rodolphus admitted. "But it was not a bad plan at all: he made sure both the front and back exit were covered, with four of us at each position – "
"Who went with who?" The Dark Lord interrupted.
"I went through the back," Travers spoke up again. "Jugson, Rabastan and one of the new recruits went with me. Mulciber took Rodolphus, Gibbon and the other new recruit through the front. I can only apologise for our failure, my Lord," he continued. "But we did succeed in our mission."
Voldemort snarled. "There shouldn't have been any casualties! I sent eight of you for that very reason!"
Travers swallowed. "But like you said, two of us – the two who died – were new. Once the spells began to fly, they panicked, making it more difficult for the rest of us to accomplish what we had come to do. They were only a hindrance, my Lord."
"Is this true?" the Dark Lord asked, turning his red eyes to the Lestrange brothers.
"Partly," Rabastan was the first to speak. "One of them got taken out immediately – a beheading spell, I believe. At that point, Gibbon lost it and walked out from his cover, making it easy for the McKinnon's to hit him. And so, we were down to six Death Eaters almost right away."
"So it was Gibbon's lack of discipline that ruined things for you...I see. He will be dealt with – once he can leave his bed. Still, six against two..." Voldemort tssked.
"The other new Death Eater you sent with us panicked when he saw his compatriot lose his head,"(1) Rodolphus continued his brother's explanation. "He began to throw spells everywhere, without aiming so we were forced to not only block the McKinnon's spell barrage, but his as well. One of them hit Mulciber," Rodolphus continued with a grimace. "After that, he wasn't in any state to help. At that point, since I was the only one still standing in the front hall, I made the decision to try and take the panicked idiot out with a stunner, but one of the McKinnon's took him down first."
Rabastan took over: "And when he tried to drag himself away, he grabbed one of Jugson's ankles – that's when one of the McKinnon's curses hit him in the face: Jugson was literally being held to one spot and couldn't move aside."
"While that was going on, one of Travers' killing curses hit Ian McKinnon," Rodolphus said. "A second later, I hit the other McKinnon with a blood-boiling curse."
"And then we hightailed it out of there with our injured," Travers finished. "After we sent up a Dark Mark, of course."
The Dark Lord looked like he was on the verge of asking something else when the doors to the throne room flew open, and Bellatrix entered, immediately making a beeline for her husband. "'Dolphie! What happened?" she asked, pulling at the front of his robes. "You look awful! And you're bleeding!"
"Bella, get your husband and Rabastan to the hospital wing," Voldemort said, sounding bored. Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers immediately left, Bella cooing over her husband's injuries all the while.
Travers stood alone in the throne room.
"Travers..." The Dark Lord sighed and Travers fidgeted nervously, still thinking it very unfair that he was left to take all the heat. 'I broke through the last ward! I killed one of the McKinnon's! I was still standing at the end! I made sure everyone – including Mulciber – got out!' The more he thought about it, the more unfair he thought it was.
"With two of my most senior followers on the mission, I expected ," the Dark Lord continued, "I cannot deny that there were...factors beyond your control, so you are excused, even though you should have had a backup plan. And don't think me unfair – I will speak to Mulciber as well. And you will get the chance to make up for your group's abysmal performance within due time – I am planning more attacks."
"Based on information from the same source as this time, my Lord?" Travers asked, his anger calming slightly.
"Yes." Voldemort allowed one corner of his lips to lift slightly: for once, Pettigrew had proven useful. "Now get out." He abruptly wiped the smile from his face. "You're dripping blood all over my floor."
"Yes, my Lord."
Lily sniffed and looked up from her curled up position on the bed when she heard the bedroom door opened as James entered. "Is Harry asleep?" she asked, her voice hoarse from crying nearly non-stop for hours.
"Yes," James said, sitting down at the end of the bed beside his wife. "How are you holding up?"
Lily shrugged. "Awfully. I can't believe Marlene is gone... When Dumbledore flooed with the news..." She shook her head at loss for words. "It just seems like there's one Order-death after another lately. And now the Death Eaters even target their families - Chelsea McKinnon was just a child! How does Voldemort know where to find them?"
James' eyes darkened. "A spy. We had one in Dorcas – it's not that strange Voldemort would have one as well. Come to think of it, though it was a couple of weeks in between, Dorcas was only killed after Dumbledore revealed her position as a spy within Voldemort's ranks to the entire Order."
"Who could betray us like that?" Lily asked quietly, sitting up.
James looked away. "I prefer not to speculate. Nothing good will come of it – only more distrust."
"I suppose you're right," Lily frowned thoughtfully. "Can't Dumbledore just force everyone to touch that spelled orb that admitted us to the Order again? I mean, it was made to ascertain our loyalty, wasn't it?"
"I suggested it when I last talked to Dumbledore, but apparently, it only works once for each person," James said grimly. "Something about our personal imprint being absorbed into it – I didn't really understand all of it."
Lily sighed. "Well, it was an idea at least." She abruptly jerked backwards when she accidentally caught sight of herself in the mirror on the opposite side of the room. "Merlin, I look a right mess," she muttered as she took in her mussed hair, and snotty nose, her cheeks covered in tear streaks and her eyes red-rimmed and puffy.
James turned to look at her, a tender expression on his face. "You're beautiful," he said, caressing a few strands of her red hair between his fingers.
Lily let out a slight laugh. "Well, they do say love is blind. Your taste is awful."
"I'll have you know my taste is impeccable," James countered and leaned forward until their foreheads met, reaching up a hand to caress her left cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "I fell in love with you, didn't I?"
Lily laughed again. "Yes, you did." Pulling away from James, she bit her lip and looked up at him from under tear-covered lashes. "Love me?" she asked while pulling off her top.
James smiled, his hands softly stroking the skin on Lily's bare arms and shoulders, making her shiver. "Always," he answered, utter adoration in his hazel eyes as he leaned forwards and captured her lips with his.
For the moment, at least, pain and loss was forgotten.
Published: 06/09 -12
Trivia
- Dorcas' death, or rather that Voldemort is the one to kill her personally, is canon, which is pointed out by Moody in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix chapter 9. Because he specifically pointed out Voldemort was the one to kill her, I came to the conclusion Dorcas opposition to him must have been rather significant - from that, I came up with the idea to make her the Order's spy in his camp.
- Why Dumbledore's body disappears when he enters the pensieve: there are a lot of theories of what happens to your body while you're inside the pensive - is it only your mind that enters while your body is left behind, or does your entire body somehow get transported into the memory. For this story, I decided on the latter after theorising back and forth. A good discussion thread on it can be found here: .com(slash)archive(slash) (slash)
- We learn in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince chapter 2 that Severus applied for professorship at Hogwarts on Voldemort's orders.
- The disgusted looks thrown by the muggles due to Evan Rosier's and Avery's affectionate display is obviously due to the negative view on homosexuality - a controversial subjects among some people even today, and even more so back in the 1980s.
- Moody says about Benjy Fenwick in Order of the Phoenix chapter 9 that they only ever found 'bits of him' which is how I came up with his death, making it canon-compliant.
- The McKinnon's death-scene: since Hagrid mentioned they were among the most powerful wizards of all time, I decided that Voldemort sending several Death Eaters to take them out made the most sense - numbers beats power, at least in this instance. We learn that Igor Karkaroff implicated Travers as one of the people who was behind their murder in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which is I put him in the group.
- We learn that Lily "cried all day" when she heard of the McKinnon's murder from her letter Harry finds in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
1) Pun definitely intended .