Disclaimer: See the first chapter.

Background: See the first chapter.

Summary: In the dark times when the Dark Lord returned to power, he searched for new followers and wished to regain what had been lost. But did all of his Death Eaters join him of free will? Iris Halither looks back and tells her tale, and discovers a horrible truth about herself...

Note: The story is divided into chapters, the chapters shaped into parts. One part is seven chapters, no matter the lengths of those. Some chapters are short, some are long. That's how they were written.

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The Tale of a Death Eater
Part III: The Halcyon Days
Chapter 21

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Some time after leaving the Burrow I was 'moved' from Kieran's house to Grimmauld Place, being told it would be safer as I was searched for by both the Ministry and the Dark Side. Though, moping around the Headquarters was never fun. Don't mistake me, I was allowed to go to the meetings. But I rarely felt the need. I wanted to know as little of the Dark Lord's doings as possible. Perhaps, in my mind, I tried to pretend the world was at peace.

Some days were longer than others, the visits of members of the Order more frequent in the weeks after Christmas. I often went exploring in the old house, though careful not to disturb anything. At a time I came across a room where I spotted a huge tapestry on one of the walls. The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though Doxys had gnawed it in places. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show a sprawling family tree dating far back to the Middle Ages. The words Toujours Pur dawned a crest above large words at the very top of the tapestry which read:

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

The most Blacks seemed to have married into other pure-blood families. Names such as Prewett, Crouch, Crabbe and even Potter were to be found in the tree. A small smirk showed on my lips at the sight of Narcissa Black's name combined with Lucius Malfoy's, a thin line leading down to their son Draco. Narcissa's name was also found to be connected with two other names. Or, a name and a hole in the tapestry. The readable of the two read Bellatrix and was combined with a Rodolphus Lestrange. I certainly knew who Rodolphus Lestrange was and-- Bellatrix Lestrange? Bella? But of course...

"...Well, if it isn't my dear brother-in-law..."

So the shrilly woman I had seen in Azkaban was the sister of Lucius Malfoy's wife? And Draco's aunt? What a disturbing thought...

The tree's branches seemed to stretch for aeons, though exactly how many centuries I couldn't tell. There was a lot of history. It made me realise I hardly knew anything about my own roots. My mind was a question as to where I had origin. Surely the Halithers were to be found in the past?

I sighed and climbed the stairs, settling in my room. There wasn't much for me to do. Days seemed to be no different from nights, and time slipped into a cycle of repetitions. I pulled off my dark-green pullover and walked to the dresser. Mrs. Weasley had been so kind to knit me more sweaters when word came to her I barely had clothes.

A sound startled me and I twirled around, wide-eyed. "How did you get in here?" I thought out loud as I spotted a bird sitting on the wooden desk by one of the windows. Looking up I found the window open. I grabbed my discarded sweater from the floor and cautiously moved closer to it. Croaking, it hopped to the far end of the table as I tried to shoo it outside. The fact it seemed so anxious to just get farther away instead of just flying off made me wonder; was it hurt?

"Now there... I'm not going to harm you. So, if you could be as nice as to refrain from harming me, I'll just have a little look at you..." I closed the window and moved to the other side of the table, throwing the sweater over animal. I carefully placed my hands around its quite large form and - with my fingers safely covered by the fabric - released its head so I was certain it could breathe. It buried its beak in the shirt, trying to make me let go.

"Clever little raven, are you?" I cooed, getting a closer look at its glossy and slightly iridescent black feathers. Ravens get quite large, the largest species of songbird I reckon, but this one wasn't all that big, for it seemed starved. Cradling it with my left arm I walked out of my room, looking around time to time as I went to the kitchen on the bottom floor. "Shush!" I hissed at it as it kept croaking. Apparently quite loud creatures...

Reaching the kitchen, I walked to the pantry. "What to give you?" I groaned, suddenly realising I had no idea what ravens eat. I grabbed a loaf of bread, coming to the conclusion that all birds must be somewhat alike. Sitting down by the table I ripped the loaf and carefully held the bread closer to the raven's bill.

"What are you doing?" I looked up to see Lupin standing by the stair.

"A bird got into my room. I think it might've hit my window and broken something. It doesn't fly," I said, looking back to the animal in my arms.

He walked to my side, releasing a small sigh as he pulled out a small bottle from within his robes. "Here," he said, "should mend any broken bones just fine."

I smiled as thanks and grabbed the bird around the neck, not too harshly, tipping the fluid contents of the bottle down its throat. It swallowed most of it, and I thought it to be enough - it wasn't a very large creature, after all. Looking back at Lupin, I found he had gotten an old birdcage from the pantry. "That's excellent!" I said, eyes widening. "Thanks!"

"No problem," he smiled and exited the kitchen.

Without hurting the raven, I let it inside the cage. "Nice man, that Remus Lupin, eh?" I conversed and gazed into black eyes. Then, I frowned. "I'm talking to a bird..."

-

A fleeting gasp and a brow glazed with cold sweat was a way which I would wake many nights. Following, I would remember the present and relax into the comforts of sheets and blankets. And one who comforted me more than safe surroundings was my newfound friend. The raven had gotten better after a few days, the power of potions never ceasing to amaze me. I had tried letting it out the window again, but it seemed to stay behind, even when the window would be open for hours.

Dragging sleep out of bed, I found my footing with some difficulty and travelled towards the lavatory a bit down the hallway. Immediately turning on the enchanted cold water, I leaned into the sink and lowered my face to cupped hands filled with the refreshing liquid. Limbs heavy with fatigue I slumped against the tiled wall. Why did rest seem impossible? Looking into the mirror I only looked slightly better than weeks ago, skin as sickly pale as ever. Not quite the picture-perfect witch I could wish to be.

Locking the door, I undressed and stepped into the shower, wincing as I turned the water to burning hot. I sat down in the bath, arms dangling over the side as I let the scalding water rush down my back, forehead resting on the cold edge of the tub. If I was not confronted with challenge of some sort any time soon I would go mad with boredom. But what could I possibly do? I couldn't go anywhere.

Hearing motion downstairs I frowned. I got out of the shower and dried off, wincing slightly at my sore skin. I dressed quickly and moved down the stairs, looking over the railing slightly. Members of the Order had arrived, probably to attend a meeting. Having nothing better to do I decided to do the same.

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"Are you out of your mind?"

Participating in a meeting with the rest of the Order proved to be quite interesting, that day at least. The arguments flew back and forth, heated comments attacking each proposition.

"I was merely stating that Harry is well protected as it is, Molly. The lad is not completely helpless, either! He's done well by himself countless of times already, hasn't he?" growled Mad-Eye Moody. One hand clenched on top of the scrubbed wooden table, he wore an expression of pure irritation. Mrs. Weasley sent him a long, narrowed look, then gave in and leaned back in her chair. "Nevertheless," continued the ex-Auror, returning to the previous subject as he said to Dumbledore, "I'm not too fond of hearing him havin' trouble with Apparition, hmm?"

The Headmaster gave him a little smile. "They've only just had their first lesson, Alastor. Not everybody is excellent with all forms of magic, let alone the first time. Apparition is one of the more complicated arts, after all." I could have sworn he looked at me as he said that. "Now," said Dumbledore and heaved a deep sigh, one hand rubbing tired eyes, "the werewolves?" All turned towards Remus Lupin. The latter smiled grimly and shook his head.

"No progress. Greyback's mind is still unchanged about Lord Voldemort, and so are the most of the other wolves. He doesn't seem to be the least persuasive. I suppose it is his crave for blood that speaks louder than my words." He closed his eyes a moment. "In other words, he still hates wizards as much as ever."

"I know Fenrir Greyback," I suddenly spoke up. I flinched as all heads turned to me.

Pale blue eyes glinted. "Wish to share with us, Iris?" suggested Dumbledore.

After gulping a couple of times, I nodded. "I know Greyback. Or, I did, when I was... with them. He's taken--" I grimaced, "--a certain interest in me. But I met him not so long ago, in Edinburgh. He was the one who killed the innkeeper who took me in after I..." I paused. There was no reason to tell them about Lucius Malfoy. The man saved my life. I would not betray his by telling them he too had escaped Azkaban. "Greyback promised me he would not tell the Dark Lord where I was. I believed him. But it would not have mattered; I left with Kieran, after all."

I looked around at the many faces of the members. Aurors, a bunch of them. How I admired they would agree not to give me up to the Ministry. I wished some of them had been the ones to take me to Azkaban. Perhaps things would have been different...

Taking some deep breaths, eyes fixed on the table, I finally looked up at Dumbledore.

"I think I can help."