Cyneric Cyclonis frowned as a sudden, searing pain flared in his forearm. He looked to Kestrel, who was rubbing her arm with a frown that mirrored his own.

The Dark Lord was calling. And from the strength of the summons, he was in a furious mood.

"I'll get Lark," Kestrel said as he conjured their uniforms. She returned presently with their sleepy but uncomplaining daughter in tow. It was late, but they had impressed upon her from a young age the importance of not keeping them, and by extension, their capricious master, waiting.

"Your mother and I have a meeting to attend," he told her. "You're going to stay with your grandmother."

She nodded, and they traveled via the Floo Network to his mother's estate. They found her there in the sitting room, reading.

She arched an eyebrow at their arrival. "I wasn't aware there was a meeting scheduled for tonight."

"Neither were we."

"You look pensive. Do you think it wise to attend?"

"I think we don't have a choice. If we haven't returned or sent word in two hours?" he prompted.

"Go into hiding. Yes, I know the protocol."

He nodded and turned to Lark, kissing her forehead. "Love you, fy bach i. Don't give your grandmother too much trouble."

"I won't," she promised, hugging him. When she released him, he stepped back and put on his mask, watching as Kestrel said goodbye to Lark.

Once Kestrel was ready to go, they Apparated together to the Dark Lord's position and found themselves in the drawing-room of Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord sat before them in a high-backed armchair set off to the side of the massive fireplace. Lucius Malfoy stood stiffly to his right. A quick glance around the room revealed no others, and the long table they usually sat around when a meeting was held at the Malfoy's was pushed up against the far wall.

"My Lord," Cyneric and Kestrel greeted in unison, heads bowed.

"There's no need for the masks," the Dark Lord said. "It's just the four of us tonight."

They lowered their hoods and removed their masks, setting them down on a nearby side table. Cyneric glanced back to Lucius. "Cousin," he greeted the younger man.

Lucius nodded his greeting, not meeting his eyes. His usual poise and arrogance were missing tonight, and Cyneric didn't like it. Then the Dark Lord spoke again, and his stomach tied itself into a sick knot.

"I have heard some disturbing rumors. About you."

He sidestepped closer to Kestrel, his hand seeking hers. She took it; her palm was sweaty.

"Rumors, my Lord?"

"Rumors that call into question your loyalty to me," the Dark Lord said, his voice as cold as death.

"I assure you, my Lord, our loyalty to you is as strong as ever it was," he said, willing his voice to remain steady.

The Dark Lord was out of his seat in an instant, fury burning in his eyes. "You dare lie to me? Or did I never truly have your fealty?"

Cyneric tapped a finger against Kestrel's palm twice. It was their signal to Disapparate. He could buy her some time to escape, to get their family and get away from the Dark Lord's wrath. Almost immediately, Kestrel swiped a finger in a straight line across his palm. Negation. Or failure.

He tried to Disapparate them both. Nothing happened. Someone had put up an Anti-Apparition Charm since their arrival. They weren't alone.

In one smooth motion, Cyneric pushed Kestrel away from him, drew his wand, and spun around to cast the Stunning Spell at whoever he knew must be lurking behind them.

His instincts proved true as his Stunner was deflected, and his attack returned twofold. He cast a Shielding Charm, and the two spells dissipated as they hit his shield. Not Unforgivable Curses, then. He was surprised, given the casters: Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. They were not known for their restraint. Lord Voldemort must have given orders not to kill. That didn't bring him any comfort.

They stared at each other for a moment, waiting to see who would be the next to act. Behind Cyneric, Lord Voldemort seemed content to see how things played out.

In the end, it was Kestrel who broke the brief cease-fire, throwing a curse at Bellatrix, who deflected it. The curse hit a mirror, which exploded, sending shards of glass and wood flying. Bellatrix laughed in delight, "That's seven years of bad luck! Too bad you won't be living that…"

Bellatrix's words cut short as Kestrel flicked her wand toward her once more, and a large shard of the mirror shot toward her. Bellatrix flinched back, and the glass sailed past, slicing a shallow cut across her cheek instead of ripping open her throat as intended.

Bellatrix's retaliation was swift as she slashed her wand at Kestrel. "Sectums…"

"No!"

Cyneric fired on Bellatrix before she could complete her spell, engulfing her in a nimbus of blue light that blasted her off her feet. He wheeled back toward Rodolphus, throwing up another Shielding Charm just in time to block the barrage of spells the man sent his way. Rodolphus was relentless, pressing forward with each attack, forcing Cyneric back. He could see flashes of light in his peripheral vision, knew that Bellatrix was back in the fight, but he didn't dare break his concentration to see how Kestrel was faring.

Tiring of the onslaught, he pushed his Shielding Charm toward the other man. It barreled into Rodolphus, shoving him back until he was pinned against the wall, unable to move. Cyneric looked over to Kestrel and Bellatrix. Bellatrix snapped her wand like a whip handle. A cord of orange light shot from the end of her wand toward Kestrel, trying to ensnare her. Kestrel sliced at it several times with a Severing Charm, but it kept coming, snaking around her wand arm. Bellatrix pulled her wand back, and the cord began to retract, dragging Kestrel toward Bellatrix as it went.

"So, you like playing with sharp things, do you?" Bellatrix asked, drawing the ornate silver knife she liked to carry. "So do I."

Still pointing his wand at Rodolphus to keep him pressed against the wall, Cyneric drew the secondary wand he kept on hand in case of disarmament or damage to his primary one. "Locomotor," he incanted, pointing his second wand at the rug upon which the two women stood, pulling it out from under them and sending them both sprawling. Bellatrix's concentration broke, and the cord vanished, allowing Kestrel to scramble away as he wrapped Bellatrix in the rug.

"Duro!"

Kestrel's spell hardened the rug into stone, trapping Bellatrix within.

"Watch out!" Kestrel warned him, and he ducked as a streak of red light flashed by overhead, a Stunner fired by Rodolphus. He had managed to free himself while Cyneric was dealing with Bellatrix. An unfortunate flaw with dual-wielding wands. Spells cast simultaneously were weaker than a single spell to which you devoted your full attention.

He had scarcely had time to straighten before a second Stunner struck Kestrel in the back, cast by Lucius. Damn the man! He had hoped, foolishly, that he would stay out of the fight. She collapsed, unconscious, and he rushed to her side.

"Reducto!"

Nearby, the hardened carpet erupted in a shower of stone, freeing Bellatrix. He covered his head with his arms as he crouched over Kestrel, protecting them both from the debris that rained down around them.

As he did, he heard both Bellatrix and Lucius yelling at Rodolphus.

"You idiot! That was an antique rug!"

"What were you thinking? You could have blown me up along with the carpet!"

Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Cyneric pointed his wand to the fireplace before slashing his wand horizontally as he spun in a circle. The flames leapt out of the fireplace, roaring along the path he set for it, surrounding him and Kestrel in a protective ring of fire that stretched nearly to the vaulted ceiling.

He pointed his second wand at Kestrel.

"Rennervate."

The wall of fire sputtered but held, and he refocused his attention on maintaining it as Kestrel stirred. She lurched to her feet in alarm, eyes wide as she stared at the fire. "It's okay," he assured her. "It's my spell."

"Are you certain about that?"

He frowned. Watching carefully, he noticed what Kestrel had, that the circle was closing in around them. Kestrel raised her wand to help him wrest back control over the flames. Standing back-to-back, they pushed back the fire, widening their circle and giving themselves more breathing room. The others pushed back, and it became a game of tug of war between the two sides.

"We can't win," Kestrel said quietly. It wasn't a question, or even a lamentation, just a statement of fact.

"We can try."

"Even if we were to take down the Lestranges," she mused.

"And Lucius," he added.

"There's still the Dark Lord."

Cyneric drew in a deep, shuddering breath, releasing it as a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I got you into this."

"That's not what I need to hear from you right now."

He glanced back at her, felt a lump form in his throat.

"I love you."

"That's better," she looked back over her shoulder at him, giving him a sad smile.

"Oh?" he asked, turning his attention back to the flames. "Is that all you have to say?"

Her voice, which had been so steady up until that point, cracked as she replied, "I love you, too."

"You ready to get back out there?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Firestorm."

Together, they channeled all their power into this one spell, twirling their wands clockwise overhead. The fire ring began to spin, morphing into a cyclone of flame with them at the eye. Slashing their wands downward, they sent the flames radiating out like a shockwave, scattering their opponents.

The wall of fire shrank as the flames licked across the floor, reaching waist height by the time it crashed against the walls like a wave breaking against a cliff, sending a violent shower of sparks into the air. Some of those sparks caught and ignited the canvas of one of the many family portraits that decorated the wall, a painting of his Maternal Great-Grandfather Typhon Malfoy. Typhon fled into a nearby portrait, glaring out at them in pinch-faced disapproval.

It took the others a dishearteningly short amount of time to regroup. Almost immediately, a volley of spells assailed them. He batted away the attacks that came near him with his spare wand while casting his own with his main. He fought without much thought or finesse, now. At his back, he could feel Kestrel do the same, desperately firing off a flurry of spells in the hopes that one would find a target.

A jet of red light came straight for him, and he deflected it, failing to notice the second jet that followed closely behind. The second spell struck him square in the chest, and the world faded around him.

When he came to, he found Bellatrix and Rodolphus standing above him, wands at the ready. Turning his head, he saw that Lucius had a hold on Kestrel from behind, his wand pointed at her throat. He felt around for his wands, found one on the ground beside him, and pointed it defiantly at Bellatrix, who snickered.

"Enough," Lord Voldemort said. "Know when you've been beaten."

Cyneric looked over to where Lord Voldemort sat. The room was a mess, but a one-meter ring around his chair sat entirely unscathed, as did the Dark Lord himself. Lord Voldemort raised his wand, and Cyneric found himself divested of his own.

Rodolphus grabbed Cyneric and dragged him over to Lord Voldemort, forcing him to his knees. Lucius was only marginally gentler with Kestrel as she was made to kneel beside him.

"Now then," Lord Voldemort said, conversationally. "Let us return to the discussion at hand. This could just be a terrible misunderstanding. That's why I've kept it a family affair."

"My Lord," Kestrel began, and Lord Voldemort held up a hand for silence.

"There will be time for you to plead your case. But first, let me tell you what I know. You see, Bellatrix came to me with an interesting tale. She said that she had heard from her sister that you have been planning to betray me. Her sister, of course, had heard it from Lucius. And who was it who told Lucius?"

Here Lord Voldemort paused.

"Please, my Lord, I…"

Lord Voldemort cut him off, "Yes, you! Naturally, I had to investigate this claim further. So, I spoke to Narcissa. She told me that you had tried to recruit Lucius into joining your little coup d'état. Of course, she realized that such an attempt would be doomed to failure. She worried about what might happen to her husband should he be tempted to join you. Then I spoke with Lucius."

His voice grew colder as he stared hard at Lucius. "And he assured me that, while you had approached him, he had no intention of taking part in your plan. The only reason he had not yet told me himself was that he hoped he could dissuade you and bring you back into the fold without any...ugliness. That might even have worked had he not told Narcissa of your initial conversation. But I understand that it must be difficult for spouses to keep secrets from one another. Isn't that right?" He turned his red-eyed gaze upon Kestrel, who averted her eyes. Any hope Cyneric had that he could keep her from being implicated in this died with those words. Even if he had kept her in the dark, Lord Voldemort would never believe it.

"Tell me," Lord Voldemort continued, looking back to Cyneric. "Is what they say true? Or did Lucius misinterpret your words?"

Cyneric remained silent. He knew he was being toyed with. There was little hope of him believing any denials he could voice, no matter how plausibly he could spin his lies. He doubted Lord Voldemort fully believed Lucius' claims of innocence, either, but he was willing to overlook the man's transgressions in exchange for his cooperation tonight.

But he couldn't admit the truth outright. They had to buy enough time for his mother to realize what had happened and act.

Lord Voldemort sighed. "Perhaps you require assistance in loosening your tongues. Which one of you would break first under the right amount of pressure, I wonder? Lucius, what do you think?"

There was a long pause. Cyneric wasn't certain whether Lucius was considering the question or simply didn't want to answer. But he couldn't stall forever.

"Cyneric, my Lord. He's the more ardent of the two."

Lord Voldemort nodded, and Bellatrix's eager voice rang out. "Crucio!"

Beside him, Kestrel screamed, her back arched and her head thrown back as the curse tore through her.

Cyneric surged to his feet. Or rather, he tried to, but Rodolphus held him in place. "He picked me!" he yelled at Lord Voldemort.

"I am aware," Lord Voldemort answered after a long moment before gesturing toward Bellatrix, who lowered her wand. Kestrel collapsed forward onto her hands, taking deep, gasping breaths.

"Did that stir up any memories?" Lord Voldemort asked after giving Kestrel a moment to recover.

"Lucius lies!" Kestrel surprised both him and Lord Voldemort by saying. Shakily, she pushed herself upright. "He's jealous of Cyneric's standing with you, my Lord. You play them against each other so often, claiming first one and then the other as your second, that it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to rid themselves of the competition. He had to have known that Narcissa would go to Bellatrix with whatever story he concocted and that Bellatrix would go straight to you. I swear to you, neither my husband nor I would ever betray you, my Lord."

Cyneric stared at her in amazement. He almost believed her; she sounded so sincere. Voldemort laughed, high and cold. "I don't know which I find more impressive; your acting or your occlumency skills," he praised. "If what you say is true, then let me into your mind so that I may see for myself." He paused. "No? Very well." He gestured once more to Bellatrix.

"Crucio!"

Another scream ripped out of Kestrel. She fell forward, curling up into a fetal position as if that would protect her from the curse. Lord Voldemort let it go on much longer this time. Lucius had to help Rodolphus hold Cyneric back as he screamed threats at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix merely smiled, her wand remaining trained on Kestrel.

"Enough," Voldemort commanded.

Bellatrix reluctantly lifted the curse. Kestrel remained curled up in a ball, sobbing.

"It pains me that I have to do this," Lord Voldemort finally spoke once Kestrel's cries had grown softer. "Every drop of pure blood shed weakens us. But I cannot let this betrayal stand, no matter how much I wish we did not have to lose two of our own this night. I know you have been plotting against me. Admit it and end her suffering. End your suffering."

Kestrel had managed to sit up during Lord Voldemort's speech. She knelt with her head bowed, shoulders hunched. Tremors racked her body, but no fresh tears fell. Cyneric's heart clenched painfully as he looked at her.

When neither of them spoke, Lord Voldemort sighed in disappointment. "You leave me no choice. Bella, continue."

"I have been plotting against you," Cyneric blurted before Bellatrix could obey. He couldn't put Kestrel through another round of this.

"Thank you for your honesty, at last," Lord Voldemort said. He raised his wand, aiming at Kestrel. "Avada Kedavra!"

Cyneric's breath caught in his throat as Kestrel slumped, lifeless. It was like an iron vice had closed around his chest, constricting. He couldn't breathe, couldn't cry. His vision went hazy as his head swam.

Vaguely, he could hear voices. They seemed so far away. So insignificant.

There was pain, then. He barely registered it, but it made the voices clearer.

"-a question!"

Kestrel was dead. His wife was dead. Kes...

Pain exploded across the left side of his face, bringing him fully back to reality. He raised his hand to his jaw, gingerly probing where Rodolphus had punched him. Twice.

"What?" he rasped.

"I said the Dark Lord asked you a question," Rodolphus said. It was the longest sentence he'd ever heard the man string together. He laughed.

Somewhere behind him, Bellatrix laughed, too. "He's cracked! How pathetic!"

He fought to regain control, to stop the laughter that continued to bubble up, unbidden from within. He had not cracked. No, it would have been better if he had. But despite his best efforts, he was still laughing as he spoke, "I just didn't know your husband was capable of speaking."

Rodolphus punched him again, and he tasted blood.

"Why?" Lord Voldemort asked. "Before you die, I want to know why you would betray me."

The laughter died. The dull certainty of his own impending death prompted him to speak frankly. As frankly as he dared without revealing his true motive and putting the rest of his family at risk, anyway.

"Because while there's no question that you can lead a revolution, you'll never be able to rule."

That riled Bellatrix up again. "You filthy traitor, how dare you!"

Lord Voldemort held up a hand, silencing her. "And why is that?"

"You don't have the temperament for it. You lead through fear. People won't tolerate living like that forever. They will rebel. Again, and again, as many times as they need to, to be rid of you. There would never be peace. It would destroy our world."

"So your plan was to wait for me to win this war, assassinate me, then assume the mantle of benevolent dictator yourself?"

"Essentially."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss here. Avada Kedavra!"

The last thing Cyneric saw was a flash of green light.

"What happened here tonight stays between us," Lord Voldemort said. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, gather their belongings and deliver the bodies to their home. But be circumspect."

"No Dark Mark?" Bellatrix sounded disappointed.

"No."

As the Lestranges gathered up the discarded masks and wands, Lord Voldemort turned to Lucius. "They had children, did they not?"

"One. A daughter."

"How old?"

"Nine, I believe."

"Not yet attending Hogwarts. Excellent." He raised his voice to be heard by the others. "While you're there, Bellatrix, kill the girl."

"My Lord," Lucius cut in. "That will end their bloodline."

"The loss of another Pure-blood lineage is a tragedy," Lord Voldemort agreed. "They should have thought of that before they stood against me."

"Consider it already done, my Lord," Bellatrix said. He appreciated her unwavering enthusiasm for destruction.

She lifted the Anti-Disapparition Jinx she had cast earlier, and she and Rodolphus disappeared, bodies in tow.

Lord Voldemort glanced around the ruined room once they were gone. Broken glass, splintered wood, and chunks of stone littered the ground. Furniture laid overturned. Scorch marks marred the floor. The portraits that usually hung so straight and proud were in disarray.

"Your House-elf has his work cut out for him, Lucius." His lips twitched in amusement. "It's as if a storm tore through here."