Dun, dun, dun! What will the Black brothers do now! Sorry for the wait guys, but I'm back, alive and kicking, but exams are on now . Enjoy, internet cookies for whoever can help out dear Hadrian on the daily crossword.

Slytherin Plans - "14 down, an eight letter word for thrash, second letter e," Hadrian mused aloud as he twirled the quill in the fingers of his left hand. "I really should know the answer to this; it is not as if I have not done enough of it in my time. Oh this is troubling," he sipped his tea, his ever calm face betraying no clue he felt at all troubled by anything ever. "The only word I can think of with the second letter being e is 'defeat' and that is not long enough," he mentioned to nobody in particular. He cast a small glance at the house elf that was pottering about at the other end of the room, briefly wondering whether or not to recruit the help of such a lowly being. After a couple moments consideration he seemed to reject the idea and turned back to the paper.

Just then the fireplace roared into life interrupting his musings. Knowing full well what this sound was, the man made no further move than to lazily look up from the paper, and out tumbled a man who looked strikingly similar to him but was nearly his complete opposite in personality. "Well hello there," he said pleasantly as the new man strode further into the room he was in without so much as a greeting of his own. "You should have told me you were dropping by, I would have put the kettle on or had breakfast made for the two of us." When his unexpected guest made no move to reply, he continued. "Honestly Timothy I'm glad you decided to drop by, I'm having trouble with the crossword, 14 down, I need an eight letter word for 'thrash', the second letter is 'e'."

"Seriously," one elegant eyebrow was raised, "you have not seen me for three years and then I appear and the first thing you say to me is ask for advice on the daily crossword?" Timothy, the man could see from his expression, truly was incredulous and even the slightest bit hurt. He should be honored; it was not often he admitted someone might be smarter than him in any area.

"It is hardly my fault it has been so long since we last saw each other Timmy. You became somewhat of a recluse after the downfall of the Dark Lord and I had no business poking into your affairs to bring you out of your shell. I never barred you entrance to my home my friend, you simply did not visit, I am not much of a socialist, so I never called you either." Furthermore, if the first thing he wanted to do was ask for help on the crossword then that is what he'd do!

"I came here to talk to you about a rather important matter." Of course he was. Hadrian managed to suppress his amused chuckle but still allowed himself a small smirk. The mere idea of Timothy being anything other than 100% serious over any matter was downright laughable. Even when they had been in school, first years, mere eleven year olds, there had been a certain hardness to his eyes and assuredness to his posture. The way he talked was formal and professional from the get go and while he would occasionally let down his guard and everyone does from time to time, it would only be for fleeting moments and then it would be back, as hard and impenetrable as always. The harsh yet soft undertone to his voice had been what attracted Hadrian to the man in the first place, him, and, after word got through to him, the late Dark Lord.

"I'm listening." Timothy responded best to people talking as formally and as seriously as he as if they all thought the same way. He had changed a little more than expected in the three years they had not seen each other, Hadrian noted. While he was the same as he had always been, the dark circle being something he was a part of but did not allow it to take over his whole life (hence despite his power he never made it to the inner most circle and did not want to), he did not fall into a recluse with his downfall like Timmy had. Yet he was all the stronger for it now it would seem, more than the Dark Lord had fallen, his father had passed away as well, everyone knew of the death of the minor Lord, something like that could not be kept from the press.

"Sirius Black has become too powerful. He will come for us one day, we must stop him." Of course that subject was going to come up; he'd thought Timothy was clever.

Hadrian sighed as if this was a subject that had been brought up entirely too often and he was tired to giving the same answer. Truth be told it wasn't the first time the subject of the man had crossed his mind, Timothy was right; he was a threat, but a big one, perhaps too big. The strength of his posture and harness to his eyes that had once been an imitation of the teachings and example of his father was now his own character in his own right. Hadrian noted however that he had an edge his father had been missing, an edge he'd had his whole life, a rush if hotheadedness which was as unpredictable as the sanity of their former Lord, it was the reason Timothy was equally respected, loved and hated by those who knew him. "He is another reason you became a recluse."

The somewhat thinly veiled insult was not missed. Even though the statement was as true as the innocence of the man in question Timothy was going to defend himself. Ever since Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban – and Lucius had disappeared soon after – Timothy had pulled the covers up and over his head like a frightened child. That is not to say he had not been given reason to do so, Sirius Black had given them all reason to do so, but there was a difference between being quiet and going into hiding, he was still deciding which it was Timmy had done. "Do not speak to me as if I am a fool Hadrian, as is you have been faring much better."

"I have not been hiding Timothy." The truth about this statement was a little more ambiguous, Hadrian was ready to admit that. He had not gone to same measures some of his friends and former colleagues had such ad moving house, freezing accounts, even going to the ministry or St Mungoes (an entirely respectable institution) for some form of protection against the vigilante. The loss of Lucius, with such ease too, had been a hard blow for them all and slammed a sense of realism into their prestigious, conceited lives. Lucius had been the most prestigious and conceited fellow of them all and yet Sirius Black had gone for him first. Maybe his impact was his reason for it, maybe it was for the personal vendettas he had against the man but he had left his mark.

He could not help but thinking that had Lucius Malfoy been a little more careful, he would not be rotting in Azkaban's cell right now. Yet he had not been careful, he had been happy with his mansion and his peacocks and his money and his position in the ministry and now he was nothing. No, Hadrian had not decided to flee himself, or go into hiding, but he had thought about it, he had thought about seriously. That made him just as guilty didn't it? As Timothy, and Crabbe, as Goyle, as Parkinson and as Snape – if the potion's master had ever been on the side of the Dark Lord, he'd always had his doubts. After all, in his books, if you head out to kill a man and you fail to do so, it did not make you any less of a murderer.

"The subject of Sirius Black has invaded my mind regularly; I have decided to live a quieter life than the one I led before. The Dark Lord to whom we were so loyal is lost to us for who knows how long, defeated by an infant. Said infant is now living under the guardianship and tutelage of the most powerful man in Europe who is now out for blood for the crimes done against him. I do not wish to taste his wrath, I was for a while in fact thinking of allying myself with him, it is always better to join the side that is willing but I do not share such ideals and he very choosy about who he trusts now. I am keeping a low profile, if he comes for me I shall go with him quietly, until then I am giving him no reason to look twice at me."

"That is what you have chosen for your future? To sit around and wait to be judged? To be given an immeasurable amount of pain before you are given to the tender care of the dementors? That is not the Hadrian Zabini I know!" He did make a very good argument, but didn't they all? Slytherins always make the best arguments, they were slippery and persuasive, the lot of them.

"I knew what I was walking into and what I was giving up when I chose to follow the Dark Lord the first time; I will ask nothing of the light side now."

"We can do something about this!"

"You, Timothy Avery, are a fool, I called you a fool the first time I met you and my initial impression has not changed and only intensified now. There is nothing we can do. Why do you refuse to see this is a battle we have already lost? Why start it? If you have any brains left in that head of yours then you will do the same thing as me, the same thing you have been doing for the past three years, keep your head down low and your mouth tight shut."

"A fool am I Zabini? At least I am not waiting around to be arrested. Regulus Black the traitor is alive you realize, and living with his brother."

"I am not cut off from the rest of the world Timothy, I do know this." News of how the rumors of Regulus Black's demise had been greatly exaggerated spread like wildfire throughout wizarding Britain and many would probably be perpetually reeling from the shock.

"It is unknown how Regulus Black escaped such a convincing death or how he managed to keep his existence a secret for so long, I would blame it all on his big brother except Sirius was incarcerated for over a year. He is powerful too you know and I will bet you anything that both brothers were involved in the attacks on at least some of our friends. I understand why he is bitter and with his new power he is not going to stop until we are all imprisoned or six feet under. You know as well as I do that there is no way we can beat the Black brothers alone."

"There is no way we can beat them together," Zabini shot back immediately, his ever calm face in place, voice full of nonchalance, he took another sip of his tea.

"You are being pessimistic," Avery frowned.

"No I'm being realistic," he remedied, unperturbed. He took out his wand from the holster he kept strapped to his side and with a flick a large candle appeared, hovering just above the table, a strong flame dancing on the wick at the top. "Say this is Sirius," he gave another flick of his wand and a second slightly smaller burning candle joined the first, "and this is Regulus Black. Albus Dumbledore who must be a strong ally of theirs is somewhere in between or equal to Regulus, this we know as Sirius Black defeated him and others on top." Another flick of his wand had a bag of tea lights appearing, "wizards like you and me are like one of these; small and insignificant, lots of them are needed to make any sort of difference and sacrifices will need to be made no matter what final approach we use."

He picked up the bag and tossed it from hand to hand before opening it and taking one out. "Say this is you," he picked out another, "and this is me." He put them on top of each other and measured them next to the biggest candle, "barely a quarter of the way up. How would we even find them, I assume they are staying at 12 Grimmauld Place. While Sirius Black was in prison the property could be found seeming as no one was feeding the wards with their bloodlines. Seeming as it was no longer on the radar last I checked I can only assume Sirius Black has claimed Lordship and if living there. Herein lies the problem, the wards are active and stronger than ever, not to mention we'd be on the Black's turf, it is impossible to launch an attack and impossible to win if we did."

"Hadrian, hear me out." There was a new urgency to his tone.

"I am sorry my old friend, but I cannot embark on this mission with you, ask another." Who would he ask? It had always been the two of them, in class, for assignments, jobs given to them by you know who, if he did not ask Hadrian, who else was there? It was for the best, such a mission was suicide, for the both of them. Avery was twitching, that tick in his jaw practically quivering, his famous hotheaded anger was about to make itself know, Hadrian knew the signs, he would scream and then storm off rather like a child. He waited but his guest did not move, he was nothing if not stubborn; he had forgotten how final he always was in those three years? "Oh I am sorry, I have been such a poor host to you, can I get you anything, tea, coffee, some breakfast perhaps?"

Avery clenched his jaw, this was one thing he hated about his friend, his ever calm voice and face was just like Dumbledore. His thoughts darkened at any mention of the meddlesome old man, he did not get how so few people could not see past the half-moon spectacles and kindly uncle or doddery old man act to see what a true threat he could be as a fully grown, trained wizard. He had received the first honor of Merlin or something like that, he had defeated Grindlewald, he was the only wizard even the Dark Lord knew better than to tackle alone, and he was not as strong as Sirius Black was, he did see Hadrian's point, that was why they had to act now. He flicked his wand at the candle representing Sirius Black and it was promptly extinguished and knocked on its side.

Hadrian raised one delicate eyebrow at the action of his friend. He may not have seen him in three years but he did know he was making a point that was more than his annoyance at Sirius Black. He was just not quite sure what the point was.

"Have you been reading the paper?"

"Of course I have."

"What about the work of Rita Skeeter?"

Now that was a question he had not been expecting, what respectable witch or wizard ever read the work of Rita Skeeter. "I am never going to read the work of that novelist who calls herself a reporter, I like to know what is actually going on in the world thank you very much."

"She writes truth now; Sirius Black visited her and made her his blogger of sorts. If it was not true, Sirius Black would have silenced her now by what she writes."

"Yes, I heard, but I still like to think I hear all the news second hand through someone else."

"So it takes you more time to hear things, you do not know the latest piece of gossip."

"I am going to go on a hunch and say no." Avery took out a newspaper from the inner pocket of his jacket and threw it down into the lap of his friend. "I assume you want me to read this," it was not a question and Avery did not give him an answer, he simply gave another flick of his wand and the paper was turned to the correct page. Curiosity took a hold of Hadrian Zabini and with a shrug he obligingly picked it up and started to read. "Ah," he said after a couple of minutes and folded up the paper again, placing it inside the pocket of his own robes, "what an interesting turn of events." A predatory smile crept over his features and Avery knew he had the Zabini he knew back, the once and future death eater like him, "well my dear friend, this changes everything."

Fenrir rose the slightly dripping meat to his lips when it was suddenly blown from his fingers. The crackle in his fireplace was unmistakable and he whirled round to face the perpetrators, a snarl on his lips. It was somewhat muted before it fully manifested when he saw who was there. He was no coward and he was not one to back down from a fight for any reason but he knew better than to target two wizards when alone and not on a full moon, he growled for the principle of it anyway. "Can it fuzz ball," he knew the man to be Avery, it had been over three years since he last saw the man and his looks had changed somewhat, but he never forget a voice, or a smell. The unexpected and uninvited guest flicked his wand and a heartbeat later the werewolf found himself sporting a muzzle.

Fenrir ripped it off, snarling in earnest now but still making no further signs of aggression. "Now, now my dear compatriot," said the other newcomer – Zabini – as he placed a placating hand on the arm of the sniggering idiot. "Now is not the time to be teasing our friends," the content admonished, not the tone, Zabini was barely more tolerable, "for now we are brothers-in-arms, let us treat each other as such." He dusted off his robes and strode further into the room, "long time no see, it has been more than three years since we saw you last, how have you been keeping up?" He did not seem to care when he received no answer, "you should clean out your fireplace once in a while Mr Greyback, there is a reason why our Lord never bothered to visit you in your own home."

Fenrir had no time for engaging in what Avery and Zabini obviously believed passed for pleasantries and turned back to his meal, ignoring them. This time Avery did not blow the meat from his fingers but an expression of distaste covered the face of the caramel color skinned man. "You now Timothy here did have a point," he had the audacity to mention, "you should invest in a knife and fork. Just because you like your meat barely passed through a warm room does not mean you should eat with your bare hands like some kind of wild anim- oh wait, yes you can."

If Zabini was looking for a rise out of the already angered werewolf then he got one as the man decided to deign to notice him and pinned him to the spot, his amber eyes flashing. "State your business and get the hell out," he growled dangerously.

"You see Avery my good man," Zabini smiled pleased, not exactly the reaction the werewolf had been hoping for, "he's the same as he's always been and exactly the sort of fellow we need on our team." He took a couple steps and reclined in the sofa next to the werewolf, throwing an arm around his shoulders as if had all the right in the world to do. Fenrir wondered whether he would survive trying to trying to rid the man of said arm before deciding it was not worth the trouble. Zabini idly noticed the sofa was in relatively good condition for something belonging to the werewolf and he leant back. "I hope you do not mind me making myself at home, it has been such a long time since we last saw each other, Timothy and I have a business proposition for you."

"What's in it for me?" It was the first thing he asked whenever anyone approached him with such a statement, "better be a lot."

"Of course my good man," Zabini smiled, amused at how Fenrir always asked this before inquiring as to the nature of the mission, "we would not dream of coming here to hopefully enlist your help offering you nothing in return for your services. I am afraid we cannot offer you much in the way of gold apart from what we find lying around really," he said, knowing that they could but that such material wealth held little sway over the animal. "However, what we can offer you outweighs such trivial things, if all goes smoothly you will acquire safety." He knew he had to make sure not to use the word 'protection', the werewolf would be deeply offended by such wording and their protection was not what they were offering anyway, but safety, they really could do with his help.

"From who?"

"One Sirius Orion Black."

"Black doesn't scare me," he barked, "not even with his new power."

Avery snapped 'well they should' at the same time Hadrian Zabini said, 'yes they do,' making the werewolf before him whirl on his in anger.

"I know what is and is not a threat to me Zabini!" He spat out his name as if it was an insult of the highest order, "and Black is no threat!"

"Indeed you do know what is and is not a threat to you, Zabini conceded with a nod although the slightest edge was no entering his voice at Greyback's quick temper and stubborn demeanor, "whether or not you are willing to admit such is another matter."

"I, Fenrir Greyback, am afraid of nothing."

"Of course," Zabini patted his arm patronizingly, "we know," the edge was gone from his voice and a small crawled across his face in his amusement. "How about this then my good man, "Avery and I get you to Grimmauld Place and you can take out the Blacks all by yourself."

"Blacks, Plural?"

"Oh yes, I forgot that everybody does not yet know the news, Regulus seems to have found a way to come back from the dead," he gave Greyback no time to digest the information. "However, if Sirius is no threat to you as you so claim, then surely little Reggie would be small fry also, right Greyback?"

"Of course," the imminent threat of having to complete the mission he had not yet agreed to or heard all the information about in order to protect his pride muted his voice and it sounded suspiciously like a question, "neither of them are anything to me."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Tell me something though my dear Fenrir, for I would hate to see you get hurt and want to make sure you have a plan of action to look after yourself. What will you do when Sirius Black comes you? And he will, I promise you that." He was somewhat echoing what Avery had said to him earlier, for he had been right and Hadrian was not too proud to deny that. 'That is what you have chosen for your future? To sit around and wait to be judged?'

"I'll rip him apart."

"Oh will you now," his voice was so scathing that Fenrir could not find it within himself to reply, but his eye twitched, "and pray tell, how were you going to do that?" Fenrir had no answer and he dug out the paper that had been so recently thrown at him by Avery. "I do not suppose you have ever read a newspaper," he could not resist the jab because unlike them, the wolf was something of a fool and sometimes cringingly unintelligent. "I do believe however that you know how, so," he turned in to the right page and handed it over.

Fenrir gave him a warning growl.

Job done he got to his feet and he and Avery headed towards the fireplace, "remember this, my friend, things only fall into place if we stand together our flickers become a flame and our whispers merge to a shout. If you are interested, you know where to find us," in a burst of green flame the two were gone and Fenrir fully intended to forget them and turn back to his meal but he was curious. Avery was an insufferable hothead, a lot like him really, but Hadrian Zabini had always been renowned for his cool, calm demeanor and practical attitude. He may have been claiming the exact opposite but that was just who he was, stubborn and prideful to a fault. He knew full well that Sirius Black was far too powerful for him to even have a hope of defeating.

Fenrir suspected that with Regulus in the picture too, his power probably at the same level as his big brother, even the three of them together had no chance. Even if Avery and Zabini had somehow gathered an army to follow them into this, surely the risk they would be taking was too much. He was not very intelligent and did not always think things through but one thing that could not be denied was that he had impeccable animalistic instincts which had yet to lead him astray. Right now these instincts were telling him to just forget the whole encounter, eat his meal, go for a run and then go to sleep but he was curious creature, and Zabini was right, the Blacks would come for him eventually. Almost against his will the amber eyes were drawn to the paper.

"Who else shall we get?" Avery went through his mental checklist of available death eaters he could ask to join him on his quest, "how about Severus Snape?"

"No," came Hadrian's immediate answer.

Avery was affronted by his shooting down of his first suggestion, so Fenrir was fine but a suggestion by him was not? "How come? He and Sirius absolutely hated each other at school and I bet anything that they still hate each other now; you know how Severus can hold a grudge. He'll be dying to see this man go down and would hate being left out of it."

"No," he repeated, "I do not trust him."

"Why not?"

"I have always respected that his job as a spy was a difficult one, especially for a man such as Dumbledore but then it dawned on me, he was spying in Hogwarts, on Dumbledore, a man you know who loved to underestimate but the one he should shouldn't have. During the meetings I could not help but ask myself, who was he really a spy for?"

"We need to trust each other explicitly on a mission such as this, so Severus is out." Avery nodded in understanding, he did not think that Severus was a spy for Dumbledore but he understood that he should not come on the mission. He thought for a moment, "what about Michael Greengrass? You cannot say that he is not loyal."

Hadrian thought it over; he had always regretted not becoming better friends with Michael Greengrass. In school he had always seemed like a weedy kid, he was not targeted by other Slytherins for a couple of years because he always seemed like the child that leant round from behind the bully and said 'yeeaah', although he'd never been caught in such an act. Then someone had tried to give him rub and had ended up being sent packing, crying. The respect he'd earned in such an act was only intensified when he refused to immediately accept the people who tried to befriend him now he'd proven his worth without having the physique. It cut Hadrian deeply for he had always fancied himself able to see beyond such things to the true power stored in someone's core yet he had been swept along with the rest of the schoolchildren, "sure, you want to fire call him?"

"You do it, you're better and things like that."

"Ok." He grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, calling out the name of the man he wanted to talk to. Michael turned out to be in his front room enjoying a late brunch and Hadrian had to admit that he certainly had changed in the three years since they had last met. All the death eaters had gone their separate ways about a year after the disappearance of their former lord once it became clear it was no fluke, seeing no reason to correspond with one another. He had filled out some more, a late bloomer and had changed his hairstyle, sense of dress and looked a lot fitter than he had been too; in fact he had a flush across his cheeks, as if he'd just been out for a run. He was disturbingly unperturbed by his sudden appearance.

"Good morning Hadrian," he said politely with a slight nod of the head, "long time no see. I was wondering whether anybody was going to contact me over the interesting article I read in the paper in this morning. I assume you want to ambush Sirius Black while he is at his weakest; it is a ghastly, dastardly thing to do, absolutely despicable, I love it." Zabini had to admit he was impressed by the quick deduction, he was smart, "who else do we have on board?"

"If you join, two. Kidding, we have Avery and Fenrir too."

Greengrass wrinkled his nose, "I never liked that mutt."

"No one does but he is strong and brutal, just what we need."

"What about Severus?"

"No, I do not trust him."

"Oh yes, you have mentioned that before, I forgot."

"Do you have anyone else you can think to ask?"

"We can't have too many, we will not be able to slip into the manor otherwise, we should probably keep it to the four of us. It should be fine, we have one wounded, sleeping man to do in and one stress, tired out man to take care of, we can do this."

"For the Dark Lord."

"For ourselves."

He withdrew from the fire, glad that Michael had caught on to who they were doing this for too, "Timothy, Michael is on." The two were talking over sandwiches and scotch that afternoon when the fireplace roared into life and two people rolled into the front room. One was unfamiliar, the other was, "Fenrir, nice of you to drop in."

"I've thought about it, we accept," he got to his feet.

"Who is your friend?"

"This is Damian Hart, my new cub," Fenrir clasped his shoulder.

Damian bowed slightly, "pleased to meet you."

Zabini and Avery raised their eyebrows; he was clean and polite, nothing like his sire. "The pleasure is all mine," Zabini said, eyes flashing, the boy had potential, shame he'd wasted it on Fenrir, then again, maybe lycanthropy was what he needed to flourish. "So I take it that the two of you will be joining us on our little mission."

"We shall," Fenrir answered for the two of them. "Is it just the four of us?"

"5," a new voice amended and Michael Greengrass tumbled out of the fireplace. "I came here to discuss plans, I see they are already underway."

"I was just about to ask Damian to call you," Avery said truthfully.

Michael turned to aforementioned boy and looked him up and down, "Damian Hart," he announced, "I remember you; you were friends with Regulus once in school."

"I was," he agreed, "things change."

"Good answer boy."

"We want to go a day after tomorrow," Greyback announced and the rest of the small company turned their eyes to him.

"Which one?" Avery joked.

Hadrian put a hand of his arm, "save it, he won't get it."

He didn't, but he got he was being mocked and growled, he was ignored.

"Are you sure than is a good idea?" Greengrass asked.

"We'll be safe," Hadrian assured, "we always are." He flicked his wand and the cabinet and three more glasses flew towards him, "since we are here, how about you three join Timothy and I for some scotch?" He poured the alcohol handed them out, "to victory," he said, they all clinked glasses and drank deeply and continued doing so well into the evening.