a/n: there are some scenes that might be a bit... um, disturbing... Read and enjoy, and don't forget to review.
53- Azkaban
"There was a mass breakout. Several Death Eaters escaped Azkaban today, including Xavier Yaxley."
"What?" I yelped, staring at Kingsley Shacklebolt in disbelief. He must be kidding...
"I said," Kingsley began in an attempt to repeat himself, but Severus cut him off immediately.
"I do not believe it was an acoustic problem that caused my wife to give you an expression of disbelief; it is rather the incredibility of your words that makes her wonder- and me too, actually- if the Ministry of Magic, and especially the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is staffed with incompetent dunderheads."
"Most certainly not."
"Ah, so if they are not too sloppy to do a decent job you probably consider it perfectly acceptable for the inmates of Azkaban to take a stroll whenever they please?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm now.
"Severus, let me assure you that this is not the case. The security standards in Azkaban are high, especially for former Death Eaters. They were kept in solitary confinement, in windowless cells deep in the dungeons... no one was allowed to talk to them so it is nigh impossible they could have planned this breakout..."
"And yet you have the nerve to show up at my doorstep, with Auror Potter of all people in tow, telling me that despite all your apparently so high security standards Yaxley managed to break out. Your audacity in undo my wife's efforts to get every last Death Eater incarcerated is truly remarkable."
"Severus, I am not here to diminish Raven's efforts, quite the contrary."
Kingsley glanced at me and offered me a warm smile, nevertheless I felt strangely cold. A shiver ran down my spine, not only caused by the door still standing ajar, letting in the crisp autumn air.
Yaxley... damned, he was dangerous... at court he discredited Severus in a- fortunately futile- attempt to take him down with him, and though he never specified it, his whole attitude showed his desire to take revenge on Severus, the spy. Severus, the traitor, the double-crossing scum, responsible for Voldemort's defeat... while all the same making it obvious that he, Yaxley, saw himself quite fit in the role of a new dark lord...
Surreptitiously I reached for Severus' hand. Though times had changed, there were still those who believed in the superiority of their blood and I couldn't think of any Death Eater imprisoned in Azkaban who might not bear a grudge against Severus. After all, his testimony had landed them there in the first place and the insider knowledge he had revealed had increased the sentences of many. Was it all to start again? The fear, the imminent and ever-present peril threatening his life after years of unclouded happiness? Would it ever end? The sight of the two Aurors on patrol outside told me that things were serious indeed, even without Kingsley warning us that we might be in danger.
That moment Pinkie emerged from the kitchen, delighted to see that her Master and Mistress were receiving guests although she should have noticed that the mood was definitely not encouraging to chirp if anyone wanted a cup of tea.
Harry stared at her as if he had never seen a house-elf before- perhaps he hadn't expected to find a free house-elf here... and clearly he had never watched The Addams Family.
"A shot of Firewhisky would be very much appreciated, dear," I told her, trying to recall my duties as a hostess as I should have long since invited our dear guests to come in and take a seat in the library instead of letting them stand in the hallway.
Kingsley then filled us in with what little he knew, and he was still pretty clueless about what had really transpired. The guards of Azkaban had informed him during a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister that a group of Death Eaters, who could not possibly have communicated with each other since they had been kept in solitary confinement, had nevertheless managed to escaped Azkaban in a mass breakout at approximately 9 PM. Apart from Yaxley, the other delinquents on the loose were Rowle, Selwyn, Avery, Carrow, Mulciber, Rookwood, and Travers.
How the hell had they arranged that?
Kingsley shrugged, he had no idea. All he knew was what the guards had told him, there had been no investigation yet. No one went to Azkaban at night and he had deemed it more important to inform us first due to the warning found in one of the cells, a warning directed at Severus, speaking of revenge. He pointed out that nearly all of the escaped Death Eaters had a personal reason to take revenge on him.
Severus downed his glass of Firewhisky and scowled at the Minister. Of course he had already realized that, thanks a lot. At school he had been friends with Avery and Mulciber, the others had seen him a rival to their own ambitions, and all of them thought him a traitor.
Absent-mindedly he scratched his left arm where once the Dark Mark had been inked to his skin like an evil tattoo. He glared at Harry.
"Has your scar hurt recently, Potter?"
"No, but thanks for caring about my well-being..."
"Idiot boy," Severus growled, breathing a sigh of relief. At least Riddle hadn't found a way to accidentally create another Horcrux; he was definitely gone for good.
"The wards on your house are remarkably strong," Kingsley said. "We tried to come by Floo network but couldn't get through..."
"We like to keep our privacy, Minister. I prefer to not receive visitors when I'm in my bedroom and my wife is equally adverse to unwelcome guests."
"Oh will you please be agreeable, Severus! It was merely trying to compliment you for the security measures you have already taken. Get it into that thick head of yours that there are people who care about your well-being. I immediately alerted not only the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Auror Headquarters but also the MI6 when I learned of the breakout. I want to know you were safe, you and Raven."
"And I will personally see to your safety, sir," Harry interjected, sounding sightly smug.
"I'd rather you didn't!" Severus snapped. "Although I am perfectly aware of your... um, profound knowledge of the Expelliarmus Spell," he sneered at the boy, "I am nevertheless disinclined to depend my life on your comparatively mediocre skills as an Auror."
"I'm only trying to help you..."
"How touching, but I would rather prefer to hide behind my wife should there be the necessity of seeking the protection of an experienced Auror."
The idea was so absurd that I chuckled and even Williamson, who hadn't uttered a word yet, couldn't hide a smirk.
"So," I said, "we learned today that some Death Eaters escaped Azkaban, which seems to have become sort of a habit of them given that for Rookwood it was already the third time. One might almost believe he knows that place like the back of his hand..."
Kingsley rubbed his face. He was tired and the latest turn of events didn't sit well with him either. It annoyed him tremendously that he still had no clue how this could have happened given that the first team of investigators was to take the ferry to Azkaban at the break of dawn. He asked me if I would accompany them, relying on my talents in magical crime scene investigations, and I agreed.
Williamson seemed relieved. Although Harry had become quite a decent Auror, he was often so very Gryffindor in his behaviour- too rash, too impatient. He was undoubtedly a very brave young man but he lacked subtlety, and the devil was often in the details. We had to find out how the Death Eaters were able to communicate in order to plan the breakout, or if they had help from outside. I liked to believe Kingsley that the security standards were indeed high so the whole affair was quite a mystery that I wanted to solve.
A little later I walked our guests to the door, biding them farewell until the next morning. Kingsley had insisted that the two Aurors on patrol outside would remain there, hidden under the Disillusionment Charm so that our neighbours wouldn't start gossiping. Well, as long as Potter wasn't sneaking around our house all night I guessed it was alright with Severus.
Then I retreated to our living room and turned up the speakers of the stereo, playing some real loud punk rock music while Severus was brooding downstairs in the library. We both had our own, different ways of dealing with problems, just as we were completely different. Occasionally we needed a time-out to sort our thoughts (or, rather, to blast them out of the mind with screeching guitars in my case) before we would fall into each others arms again and talk things over.
Tonight, however, we didn't want to talk. As long as we had no reliable information on the events we could only speculate wildly about how Yaxley and his miscreants had escaped, and that seemed to be a waste of time. So we only held each other close, cherishing a proximity that needed no words.
Of course I was worried. Yaxley wasn't to be underestimated, and he had amply proved what a cunning bastard he was at court, when he had almost managed to bring up the Wizengamot against Severus. He wanted revenge and he wanted power; he was a dangerous man.
Nevertheless I felt safe that night in our house. Kingsley had been correct about the wards- they were strong, nigh impossible to break through. Severus had seen to it when we had moved in here, knowing he was a wanted man by some of his former friends. There had actually been one funny incident involving Lucius Malfoy, who had spent at least ten minutes trying to step over the threshold but had always ended up as though he was bumping against an invisible wall, before Severus had shown mercy and let him in. I still didn't understand half of the complicated wards my husband had erected but I knew our house was like a mightily guarded fortress; it was a good feeling in times like this.
Although I felt safe, I hadn't expected to find sleep this night either. My mind was so full, so overloud... and yet I must have drifted off to the land of dreams eventually because I woke up to the heavenly smell of coffee. My eyes fluttered open sleepily.
It was still dark outside. I groaned grumpily, always a charming person in the mornings, and wanted to pull the blanket over my head again. But the coffee smelled too tempting...
Severus ruffled my hair and reminded me that I had agreed to meet Kingsley at the break at dawn. I grunted sullenly, cursing Kingsley and with him the whole wizarding world; I clearly wasn't a morning person.
Severus managed to lure me out from under the blanket with the mug of coffee I needed as desperately as a junky his next shot. Oh, he knew my weakness and had fun seeing me transform from zombie to vaguely human with every sip of coffee I took, my nose buried deep in the foamed milk. I smiled drowsily at him.
"Love ya, Sev."
He gently kissed some foamed milk off my nose and sent me to the bathroom. His patience with me in the mornings would never cease to surprise me- I mean, I knew myself how insufferable I was so he must really love me a lot to bear with me, always amused about my antics.
After taking a shower I was a bit more agreeable and quickly got dressed. A faint light falling in through the windows pronounced the dawn of a new day. I tied my Docs and donned my long, black leather coat, then I put on my sunglasses. I knew the sun wasn't shining brightly, nor was it even likely to shine at all today, but the sunglasses looked just cool with the leather coat... and they would perfectly hide the shadows under my eyes, resulting from a lack of sleep. Yeah, I was still vain. I was the one who applied red lipstick even if she was going to Azkaban for magical crime scene investigations. Severus rolled his eyes as he kissed me goodbye.
"Take care."
"You too." I reached out to caress his face. "Perhaps you should stay at home today... at least until we found out how they managed to escape."
He furrowed his brow. "You are as much in danger of their wrath as I am, given that you are the traitor's wife, so don't tell me what to do when I am not keeping you from doing your job."
I glanced at him and our eyes locked in silent understanding before I kissed him again, holding him close to me for one delicious moment, inhaling the scent of his skin. Then I Apparated to the spot where I was supposed to meet Kingsley.
They were already there, waiting for me. Three silhouettes against the pale golden glow of an autumn morning rising over North Scotland. Kingsley, who deep in his heart was still more Auror than Minister; Williamson, the very capable but unfortunately not much esteemed head of Auror Department (people wanted to see Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, Defender of Lord Voldemort in his position) and finally Harry Potter himself.
I glanced around. For miles and miles there was hardly any trace of civilisation to be seen, only the wilds of the Highlands and a derelict building at the coast. As we walked closer we saw the landing place for a rather unique boat. Muggle Repelling Charms let it appear like an ordinary fishing boat that many a Scottish fisherman would use, but indeed it was more of a raft with a mast and a sail that was charmed to always catch the right wind.
The ferryman was a hulk of a man with wild black hair and a fierce expression on his face; he almost looked like a pirate. The man bowed to the Minister of Magic before offering his big paw of a hand to Harry, visibly impressed to meet the Golden Boy. The rest of us he ignored.
"Me name's Charon," he growled in that dark voice of his.
"How very fitting," I chuckled which made Harry glance at me questioningly. Casting my eyes heavenwards I wondered why anyone would see this boy fit to take over Auror Department when he was so obviously lacking general knowledge. "Greek mythology, Potter," I reminded him but still the Knut didn't seem to drop- I blamed it on Professor Binns and his ability to put students to sleep during his classes; a ghost should not be allowed to teach. "In Greek mythology, Charon was the one who ferried the deceased over the Acheron, the passage to the underworld."
"Ah," said Harry, not overly interested in my lecture. Apparently he considered the magic that made the one masted raft speed over the waves of the North Sea far more interesting since he started to pester Charon with questions about his boat.
Meanwhile I wrapped my leather coat closer around me, shivering in the cold breeze of the sea but not only because of that. Something else seemed to be creeping up me spine... a vague feeling of hopelessness and despair, and it grew stronger with every mile until finally a tiny island appeared in midst the dullness of grey waters. A fortress, even more intimidating than Nurmengard...
The raft made berth at its established mooring where the chief of the guard already awaited us. He was flustered, his cheeks red with agitation as he mumbled excuse after lame excuse of why there had been a mass breakout that he hadn't seen coming.
Although the Dementors had left Azkaban, their evil magic was still lingering on like a foul breath sucking up all thoughts of happiness. The chief of the guard handed out charms that were supposed to lighten the mood. You needed that at a place like this or you couldn't possibly work here. I wondered what kind of people were working here anyway, they must be indifferent and callous at facing so much misery here, so much despair. It seemed to radiate from every stone, hovering in the damp, dark corridors.
We passed cells with inmates raging wild with insanity, jumping at the iron bars like apes gone mad. Some howled like banshees only we didn't hear a sound. Spells kept the screams from bothering the guards, they were merely audible to those who screamed. Others cowed down in the corner, babbling nonsense to themselves; skeletal-like arms, just bones and sallow, thin skin, reached out desperately through iron bars, begging for mercy.
"Merlin, don't you feed them?" I asked, my own voice sounding hollow in the face of so much hopelessness.
The chief of the guards aimed his wand at the pleading hands and cast painful hexes at them. Then he shrugged as if he thought my question absurd. "Some eat, some don't," he said finally. "If they want to starve themselves to death why bother?"
I bit back a sharp comment as we walked down a narrow staircase to the dungeon where the top security prisoners where kept in windowless holes that never saw the light of day. At the far end of the corridor the walls of some adjourning cells had been blasted off, it looked as if a Muggle bomb had exploded but I still sensed a trace of magic. Actually, the whole place was filled with so much magic, the magic of centuries. Spell after spell created and cast to break the spirit of the inmates, to keep them silent or to ward each and every stone of the walls. You could almost feel the magic. I could imagine that someone with a knack for wandless magic might even be able to use this magical energy and weave it into something of his own bidding.
I thought I had already seen the worst but I had been wrong. Nothing prepared me for the horrifying sight I had to witness when the chief of the guard showed Kingsley the message, the warning that had been mentioned.
Harry's face took on a sickly green hue; he turned around and emptied his stomach. It was understandable.
Chained to the wall was a naked torso, legless, armless, two empty sockets where the eyes had been. Blood was pooling from the horrible gap that had been the mouth, probably the tongue had been cut off.
Across the abdomen of the woman were words painted in blood.
SNAPE!
WE'LL GET YOU!
It was indeed considered to be a warning, a horrible threat. But worse, so much worse was the moan that came from the mouth of the terribly mutilated thing, indicating it was still alive.
The chief of the guard didn't look surprised.
"You knew it?" I snapped at him, infuriated. "You knew she is still alive and yet you didn't do anything to ease her pain."
"I was told to leave things untouched," he defended himself, pointing at Kingsley. "Minister's order. Besides, it's only Alecto Carrow."
I slapped him hard across the face, some people didn't even merit using a wand on them. Then I aimed mine at the mutilated form of Alecto Carrow and a jet of green light shot from it. Harry looked scandalized that I used the Killing Curse but the peaceful expression on what was left of her face told me it was a mercy killing. Kingsley placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of agreement.
"I assume there was no way Carrow could have... um, let us know about the breakout." Williamson said dryly.
"It's fucking hard to speak without a tongue and usually it is essential for Legilimency to have eye contact," I retorted harshly before shaking my head. "No, even if there was a possibility to get into her mind and extract memories you still wouldn't find any coherent thought but pain. Why do you think they did this? They wanted to prove their power, their willingness to stop at nothing, and they felt like laughing in our faces when they deprived the only witness of any ability to communicate. Of course, they also needed some sort of... um, canvas to paint their bloody warning on since chances were slight it would look as sickly impressive on a dark stone wall."
"True," Kingsley agreed, "I also believe they needed the blood to perform a Dark Ritual."
"But," Harry gasped, still not able to look at the mutilated torso, "but her brother... I mean, he was with them..."
"Yeah, and it wouldn't surprise me if he'd had an active part in that in order to prove his loyalty to his new Master. Family ties matter not in these circles and besides, Alecto Carrow was probably considered the weakest link of the chain given that she fancied Severus- well, lusted for him would be more precise."
Meanwhile Williamson showed once more that he was a man of action since he had already started casting several Revelio spells. "Now that's interesting," he muttered under his breath when he picked up something that looked like a piece of parchment soaked in blood. At second glance the parchment emerged as human skin. The Dark Mark was burned into it like a tattoo. Apparently they must have cut it out of Alecto Carrow's arm before they had cut off the arm itself. I wondered where the missing body parts were- no, I didn't want to know. Especially not when recalling Kingsley's words about blood and Dark Rituals...
"Augeo Fortitudo," I whispered as I remembered what I had read about the Strengthening Ritual.
"Dear Merlin!" Kingsley gasped, visibly shocked since that was indeed a very Dark Ritual.
"Well, that's what happens when the guards of Azkaban refuse to feed the inmates properly- they start to eat themselves. But why bother? They're merely Death Eaters, ain't they? It only becomes revolting when the cannibalism isn't done for the sole purpose of saving Azkaban some Galleons for food but when it is part of a Dark Arts ritual."
"Ew... you mean they... they ate her." Harry piped up, then he quickly left the cell to spill the remains of his stomach on the floor outside.
The idea was revolting indeed since the ritual was one of the darkest, most evil things I had ever read about. It was done to gather strength, almost inhuman strength, and the Death Eaters on the run had been in need of that in order to not only break out but also to get to the shore. A generous bite of arm and leg and they could probably swim for days. The eyes were for the leader to always see the right way, and so was the tongue for he was always to say the right word. Of course all of that had to go along with the required incantations because otherwise the whole ritual would only be a bloody feast.
The chief of the guard shot me a glance as if he wanted to lock me in one of his cells for knowing so much about the Dark Arts in general, but he was a bootlicking creep who could have stripped naked to his malice and done a headstand without ever getting the Minister's attention he so longed for. To Kingsley Shacklebolt that man was one of the reasons why he had become Minister of Magic, namely because he wanted to clear the Ministry of lick spits and their corruptive ways. The first ever election of the wizarding world two years ago had proven that his efforts hadn't been in vain since he had won by a clear margin over his competitors, Thaddeus MacDonald and Lucius Malfoy.
Williamson was still studying the piece of skin with the Dark Mark, waving his wand over it. For am instant the mark glowed in a pale blue light.
"Ha!" He barked, "I just figured out how they managed to communicate with each other!"
"Their marks?" I asked flabbergasted although it made perfect sense to me. Riddle had used his mark on the arms of his most loyal followers to summon them, so there was a magical connection between them that Yaxley had made use of. Mayhap it wouldn't have worked if Azkaban wasn't so full of magic.
Our trip to Azkaban was successful in so far that we had found out how the Death Eaters on the run had been able to communicate in order to plan their breakout, and although we couldn't exactly reconstruct what had transpired considering the act itself, it was fair to assume that a very dark and evil ritual had gone along with it. We couldn't possibly achieve more here, and I was glad to leave this horrible prison. A heavy burden seemed to be lifted off my shoulders with each step I walked away from the fortress and towards the raft that would take us back to the mainland. I lit a cigarette and inhaled greedily.
"One day those will kill you," Kingsley lectured me, pointing at the fag I was holding in my slightly trembling fingers.
"Well, here's to hoping they do before Yaxley gets me to create another example of how much he loathes Severus. I sincerely doubt my husband will be overjoyed to receive a torso as brutally maimed and mutilated as Alecto Carrow's. Only yesterday he agreed that he prefers me with all my limbs still attached, thank you very much."
Kingsley fell very silent then and he gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I know you're envisioning the worst now but let me assure you that that will never happen. I will personally see to your safety, Raven, and I will alert every Auror and every Hit Wizard to keep their eyes open for Yaxley and his cronies. We will catch them before they can do any harm to either you or Severus, you have my word on that. Perhaps we should also consider you going into hiding even though the wards on your house are truly a masterpiece."
Charon used his long stake and the raft set sail, leaving Azkaban behind. I lit another cigarette. Kingsley could be as flattering as he wanted but I doubted he could flatter my husband's pride and have him go into hiding. Severus didn't run away, he was a brave man.
I shivered involuntarily and it wasn't only because of the cold breeze from the sea. Actually I appreciated that for its freshness after the chilly and damp atmosphere of Azkaban, the hell on earth. In my mind's eye I could see desperate hands reaching out through the iron bars, soulless eyes in sunken, hopeless faces, condemned to the horrors of solitary confinement where the only voice they would ever hear again was their own.
There had to be other ways to keep the wizarding society safe from those who wanted to harm it. Despite the horrendous crimes the inmates of Azkaban had committed, or not- Merlin, how had Sirius managed to survive twelve years in that hell without losing his sanity?- they were still human beings. And Kingsley worried about the outcry this latest breakout might cause, about a flood of letters to the Ministry asking for the return of the Dementors. But that was not the most expedient solution to the problem.
"Why don't you use the Evincio Constutio Spellto keep convicted criminals in Azkaban," I wondered aloud.
Kingsley frowned at me. "Because, as you may well know, that spell is Dark Arts."
"It's not."
"It's on the index of spells banned by the Ministry."
"That's not the same and you bloody know it."
"The Evincio Constutio Spell can be used to cause great harm..."
"Scourgify can be used to make people choke on pink bubbles!"
Harry Potter had the decency to look ashamed when he heard that, remembering that his father had tormented Severus with it.
"Raven, many a witch has been literally enslaved by Evincio Constutio when her husband has drawn a drop of her blood and put her under house arrest.".
"Ah," I snapped, pointing at the decreasing silhouette of the tiny island with the horrible prison as the raft gained speed, taking us away from there, "and that's all sunshine and roses embedded in Dementor induced happiness?"
"Certainly not, but you have to understand its benefits for the society..."
"Whatever benefits there are, or might be, that's just not good enough! What light does it shed on the wizarding society- or any society at all, in this case- if they treat their felons like that? A well-functioning society should define itself not only by the power it has but also by its mercy, shown particularly to those who have fallen from grace."
"You ask for redemption for the likes of Yaxley?" Kingsley asked, slightly taken aback since in his minds eye he still saw the horribly mutilated body of what had once been Alecto Carrow.
"No!" I interjected, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "No... Merlin, yeah, I truly despise the likes of Yaxley and his cohorts. I despise the ideals they stand for, fight for- their bloody blood superiority way of thinking... and yet, in spite of all that, they are nevertheless still human beings, and every human being should be treated with at least a little bit of respect, of compassion. I know they don't give a damn about compassion, but here we stand, and here we can show that we differ from their ways. We are different. We are the allegedly good ones so why not prove it by allowing some sympathy? Why not channel our benevolence and spice it with the Dark Arts, especially if the spell in question wasn't considered quite as dark some centuries ago but had since fallen into the category of spells not approved by the Ministry?"
"She definitely has a point here, Kingsley," Williamson said, nodding in my direction. The Minister of Magic didn't look all to comfortable.
"She sounds just like Hermione," Harry sighed.
Hermione Weasley nee Granger had been on a crusade to improve the quality of life for house-elves while working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and was currently revolutionizing the wizarding law with the help of Sebastian St John. They seemed to share the same sense of justice.
"Well, I'd like to hear what she thinks about it," I mused and Kingsley rolled his eyes. "Azkaban brings out the worst in people," I continued. "The conditions of detention are inhuman. Instead of trying the break someone's soul they should be given the chance to show some remorse but that is unlikely to happen when they are treated like scum. Take Malfoy for example- had he been sent to Azkaban he'd be barking mad by now, or he'd be on the run with the rest of the gang. Alright, he's still an arrogant wanker and not the best role model, but doing community service has taken him down a peg or two. He has learned some modesty even if he's not actively remorseful..."
"I still believe Yaxley and his cohorts had help from outside," Kingsley interjected. "Can we positively rule out Malfoy's involvement?"
"I think so- unless, of course, he wants to spend the rest of his life with his testicles shoved down his throat. You had better not underestimate Narcissa's influence; she really has him by the balls."
Dear Cissa wanted nothing more than to have her old life back. She wanted to give dinner parties and charity balls that people would talk about for months; she wanted to wear fancy dresses and mix in the best society even if that nowadays included the company of half-bloods and Muggle-borns. She had long given up wrinkling her pretty nose at them- well, sometimes I still had to remind her that she looked better if she didn't hold it too high. Times had changed indeed. The wizarding society was on its way to overcoming blood prejudice and catching up with the mood of the 21st century.
I stared out at the sea. Kingsley seemed to mull over my words and perhaps he was even contemplating how to sell my ideas to the Wizengamot or the rest of the wizarding world. Meanwhile, Harry Potter was chatting about his wife's pregnancy, how excited he was to become a father, and wasn't it just great that Angela was pregnant, too? Sirius' and his child would be in the same year at Hogwarts- without doubt they'd be the best friends. I, however, shuddered at the idea of a possible rebirth of the Marauders. Merlin, beware...
Finally the raft reached the mainland again and we said goodbye to Charon. I glanced at my watch. There was still pretty much time before Severus would be home from work so I decided to pay the Malfoys a visit. Although I truly believed Lucius had abandoned his old ways he might nevertheless have some information.
Harry and Kingsley had already Disapparated but Williamson was still standing there, waiting for me. I arched a quizzical brow at him.
"Minister's order. I am to see to your safety."
"So you're my bodyguard now?"
"Hmpf," he grunted; Williamson wasn't a man of many words but that actually made his company quite agreeable. Besides, he was a really capable Auror.
"Care to accompany me to Malfoy Manor?"
He arched a brow at me.
"No, I don't believe Lucius is involved in the breakout; he's got too much to lose..." At that point Williamson grinned compassionately. We had Apparated to Malfoy Manor and walked through the wrought-iron gates, along a drive framed with yew hedges, towards the handsome mansion. Gravel crackled beneath our feet. Some pure white peacocks were strutting majestically across the lawn in front of the house and once again I couldn't refrain myself from pointing my wand at them. The peacocks were still strutting majestically across the lawn in front of the house but now they were shrieking pink. Lucius hated it when I did that but that was part of the fun.
An ancient looking house-elf with a deeply wrinkled face, dressed in a white tea-towel, opened the door and told us to wait while he would announce our arrival but I brushed past him.
"Thanks, Gyrrki, I know the way."
I entered the elegantly furnished drawing room where Narcissa was sitting, doing some needlework.
"Raven, what a nice sur-"
"Where's Lucius?" I cut her off. This was not a private visit; I was here on duty and in company of the Head of Auror Department. Narcissa blanched visibly when she recognized Williamson. She quickly pointed to a door on her left which led to Lucius' study.
He must have heard our voices for he appeared at the door, smiling smugly.
"Oh, what glamour you bring to my humble home, dearest Raven," he drawled. "May I enquire to what I do owe the pleasure of your charming company?"
"Show me your left arm, Lucius!" I commanded, and when he reacted too slowly for my liking I simply grabbed it and pulled up his sleeve.
"Not so hasty... if you want to undress me you will find me quite supportive..."
"LUCIUS!" Narcissa shrieked, and immediately her husband winced under the influence of a real strong Stinging Hex.
"Good one!" I smirked.
"Bad, bad Gyrrki..." There was a sob followed by a bang! "Gyrrki is such a failure..." Another sob, another bang. "Gyrrki should have... should have not let the filthy half-blood..." Bang! Bang! "No, Gyrrki is not allowed to call she filthy half-blood but she is, she is..." The old house-elf let out a howling, almost heart-wrenching sob as he proceeded his way to the drawing room, banging his head against the floor every few steps. "Oooh, if only dear old Master Abraxas knows, if only he knows... shame and dishonour... poor Gyrrki, bad Gyrrki..."
"Stop that!" Narcissa snapped impatiently when the elf was about to bang his head again but it wasn't sympathy she felt for the pathetic creature. "Stop brawling and prepare the Master's bedroom instead. He will sleep in his own chambers for the rest of the week!"
"Cissy-flower you can't do that! I was merely joking, I did nothing wrong!"
She shot him a cool, pitiless glance. My, she really had him by the balls because I had never thought I'd ever hear Luci whine for affection... not that their little marital row bothered me. I was here for answers.
"Has your mark burned recently?"
Lucius glanced at me with the blank expression of someone who was apparently at a loss, not comprehending what I was about. I rolled my eyes heavenwards before I poked his left forearm with my wand.
"Your Dark Mark, Luci?" Before he could answer I had already cast a wordless Revelio spell over the pale, greyish outline of the skull and snake tattoo on his arm. It looked faded, unlike that on the piece of skin Williamson had found in Azkaban, and it only radiated a very faint bluish glow.
He blinked at me. "Ah, that... why, well it... um, kind of stung slightly for about a fortnight- but not anymore. Why are you asking?"
Merlin, he was really utterly clueless. So I was right about him. But was it coincidence that his mark had stung slightly for about a fortnight, when during that time I had been to Southern Patagonia where allegedly a Death Eater was on the run? Who had given Kingsley this information anyway? There was something fishy about it.
Narcissa stopped dead at the door through which she was about to walk away, disappointed and disgusted with her husband's antics. She turned around in a sudden fit of panic.
"Raven, what are you hinting at? Is he...", she swallowed hard, trying to hide her fear but her face was like an open book to me. Narcissa Malfoy was scared. "Is he back?"
"No." Williamson said.
"Enough of that," Lucius protested, angrily, as he walked up to his wife and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. "I have tolerated your abysmal behaviour until now but I won't tolerate it any longer. You cannot invade my house, my privacy, and frighten my wife like that..."
"Frankly speaking," I interrupted him, "we can. We're here on Auror duties. You, however, can only choose if you prefer to answer our questions here or if you'd rather have us taking you to the Ministry for further interrogations."
Lucius flushed from red to deadly pale. "What the hell is going on?"
Since he seemed to be totally ignorant I decided to fill him in. "Some of your Death Eater friends escaped Azkaban last night."
If possible, he blanched even more. It wasn't feigned; his surprise, his shock was genuine.
"They're not my friends," he whispered, remembering the humiliation he had suffered from his so called friends when he had fallen from Voldemort's graces. He had been like a prisoner in his own house, helpless and wandless.
I realized that Yaxley was probably not only threatening Severus' life but that his warning could be as well extended to any traitor. Lucius' former buddies might not endorse his slippery way of always weaselling himself out of punishment instead of joining them in Azkaban.
"I wished you had never joined them," Narcissa sobbed, trying to push him away from her. And yet, she only seemed to regret the misery his misdemeanour had brought to her family, to the two people she cared about most, while it was likely she still saw no fault in pure-blood superiority or his sport of terrorizing Muggle-borns.
"Is Draco still in Paris?" I asked, sounding more amicable now.
Narcissa nodded.
Draco Malfoy had left wizarding Britain a few months after the Battle at Hogwarts and Voldemort's defeat, and he had made it appear as if he had completely vanished into thin air since there had been weeks without anyone hearing even the slightest peep of him. Then he had sent a postcard from Athens- not to his parents but to Severus, his erstwhile mentor. Draco had stated he needed some time-out and would do a Grand Tour like the wizards of old, given that someone with his past wasn't likely to get an appropriate job anyway, and he had begged him to break the news gently to his parents. Only when Severus had assure him that his parents would not disinherit him, Draco had started to write to them, too. For almost four years we had received postcards from all the strangest places of the world before little Malfoy had settled down in Paris, working as a trainee in the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the French Ministry, where he had met his present wife, Astoria Greengrass- a very pretty, very pure-blooded Slytherin girl with no connections to the Death Eater scene but a good heart instead- who was an exchange student in the same department. We had been to their wedding two years ago.
"Perhaps you should go and visit him for a while, " I suggested. Although I wasn't particularly fond of the Malfoys I would nevertheless feel better knowing they were not on target of some mad Death Eaters on the run. A cold shudder ran down my spine when the horribly mutilated form of Alecto Carrow popped up in my mind's eye again.
Narcissa's voice was shrill. "NO! I will not endanger my only son!" Then she glanced at Lucius as if saying that all this was his fault. He had joined Voldemort's ranks, he had brought the Dark Lord to their house, his failure had put Draco's life in mortal danger once before. It was his fault that Draco had left the country; it was his fault she didn't see her son as often as she wished.
"Nevertheless, you should consider lying low for a while," I suggested.
"We could go the our chalet in Switzerland." Lucius said, almost purring, and that seemed to take the wind out of her sails; Narcissa became all dreamy eyed. They had spent their honeymoon in the Malfoy's chalet in Switzerland but hadn't been there since.
I thought that was a good idea. The chalet was one of many estates the Malfoys had in Europe although that wasn't widely known. Since there wasn't anything relevant to find out about the Malfoys and their true allegiances (other than only caring about themselves, but that with fervour) Williamson and I left them.
We walked out the front door and passed the lawn with the still shocking pink peacocks, me being deeply lost in thoughts. So Malfoy's mark had started to sting slightly while I had been in Southern Patagonia- why had I been to Southern Patagonia anyway? Who had set up the rumour that there was a Death Eater hiding? Who had wanted to get me out of the way in the fortnight leading to a mass breakout? The more I thought about it the more questions seemed to arise, making me wonder if the breakout had actually been planned at long hand... and if the Death Eaters on the run had had any help from outside Azkaban...
"I need a list of all the guards serving at Azkaban, their family backgrounds, their habits and vices-even when they reported sick. Is there anyone who quit his job recently? Anyone who behaved strangely? The kids can do that job, Harry and the other youngsters."
Williamson arched a brow at me and I realized that I was just giving orders as if I was head of Auror department and not he.
"I'm sorry. Guess I got carried away..."
He smirked. "No problem. Carry on."
"We also have to find out who ultimately let slip to Kingsley that there's a Death Eater on the lose in Southern Patagonia. I believe it was just a fraud, set up by someone who's secretly supporting Yaxley- do we have any knowledge about his family, lovers, favourite whores?"
"No living family members but we can try to dig up old lovers if there were any. Haven't checked on them before his trial then."
"Please check up on the families and friends of the other Death Eaters, too- especially Rookwood."
"You think there might be a traitor within the ranks of the Ministry?"
"Now, would that surprise you? Rookwood worked in the Department of Mysteries for years without anyone suspecting him to be a die-hard follower of Voldemort so perhaps there are others loyal to his course. There is still blood prejudice in our world although all the pro-pureblood laws have been put to an end..."
"Hmpf," Williamson grunted, before he held an uncharacteristically long speech. "You're right. But don't worry, we'll gather all the required information and eventually we'll find out who helped Yaxley and his bloody miscreants. It'll all turn out well, Raven. These bastards won't get close to you or your husband, I will personally see to that."
His words were encouraging but after I had returned home I had to realize with surprise how quickly I could turn from a professional, sometimes even cold-blooded Auror into a heap of nerves lying bare while waiting for Severus to come home. I glanced at my watch, telling myself not to fret because he was very rarely ever back from work before five o'clock. It was half past four now.
Pinkie entered the library where I was standing, staring at the big grandfather clock, watching minute after minutes tick by.
"Mistress Raven wants some tea?" The house-elf chirped in her much too shrill little voice, startling me.
"No!" I snapped, knowing I was overreacting and yet I shooed her away. She wouldn't understand. Pinkie hadn't seen what I had, and the horrible visions kept popping up in my mind's eye more frequently as the big clock hand approached the full hour. The clock rang five times. Severus should be home any moment and then I could hold him in my arms and everything would be alright.
Minute after minute passed without a flash of light in the fireplace announcing his return. The ticking of the clock began to make me nervous, edgy with fear. Had the clock ever ticked that loud before? Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock... the vision of Alecto Carrow's horribly mutilated form began to change in my mind's eye, turning into Severus... his beautiful black eyes poked out, rolling over the floor like dark.... Raven, get a grip on yourself! He's safe. He doesn't have a nine to five job and you know how absorbed he can get when mulling over the best approach in developing a new potion... but what about ME? Damned, I was worried- no, I was scared shitless that something could have happened to him.
It was unlikely, though, that Yaxley would walk into the Potions Research lab at St Mungo's and threaten my husband without the Aurors thwarting his evil plans. Think realistically, Raven... take a deep breath. Wouldn't it be really clever to make some firecalls first before hyperventilating and jumping on the worst conclusions imaginable?
Merlin, that very moment I envisioned him being tortured to death...
I knelt in front of the fireplace, calling his laboratory. Instead of Severus' face that of one of his co-workers appeared in the flames, telling me that my husband had already left the lab about an hour ago. I thanked him for the information, feeling slightly panic-stricken. Where was Severus? If he wasn't at work he should be at home...
I firecalled Professor O'Flaherty and asked him whether he knew where my husband was, knowing I sounded a tad too worried for my own liking. Professor O'Flaherty flashed me a benevolent smile as he told me that Severus had already left the building, probably in search of a nice little surprise for me... the very idea of what Yaxley might consider a surprise for me made me almost gag on my own imaginativeness. My glamour had long faded and died, and all that was left was primary fear.
Damned, where the fucking hell was Severus? Was he safe and sound? Or was he in pain, held captive by those who thought him a traitor to their course and wanted to punish him for this betrayal? If only I knew... why didn't he have a mobile phone?
Finally it dawned upon me that I could as well send my Patronus to him. Yeah, clever witch, Raven. You really are the pride of Auror Department.
I was so nervous I almost failed to cast a Patronus but then light oozed from the tip of my wand and whizzed into the air. There came no reply...
