Chapter 30

Dolohov and Malfoy were already waiting for them when they got back, alone in the empty gathering hall. Lucius straightened at the sight of Sirius docilely trudging in behind them, eyes downturned. Dolohov didn't move, simply raising an eyebrow at their ragged appearance.

"You were successful?" Lucius asked, fixing Mulciber with his gaze.

"Aye, the boy got him," Mulciber said. Lucius's eyes flickered over the group in a quick once-over.

"It appears that he gave you quite some trouble."

Harry sensed Flint shift uncomfortably beside him. They hadn't bothered to clean their appearances up before returning, and their robes were still covered in bloody rips—a noticeable difference to Lucius's as-always pristine robes. Mulciber didn't seem to share the same embarrassment, but then again, he was significantly more experienced—also, his face wasn't shaved bald and covered in boils. Flint wasn't so lucky.

"He was a tricky little bastard alright," Mulciber gave Sirius a nasty grin. "But he's all ours now."

He smacked Sirius lightly across the cheeks to demonstrate, before grabbing his jaw and forcing his head to twist around, lolling on a loose neck. A surge of righteous indignation surged through the connection Harry felt to Sirius's Imperius, threatening to disrupt its gentle hold. He squeezed tight, pushing the emotions back down. Sirius's face went even more slack as the curse constricted. Mulciber turned away.

"We were discovered before we could reach the target—must've had something new charmed into the house that our intel missed. There was a casualty."

Mulciber jerked his head back to the prone body of Varley, floating sedately behind the group. Malfoy's face didn't budge in inch at the sight. His eyes flashed dismissively over the body of his compatriot.

"Is he dead?"

"No, no," Mulciber shook his head. "Stopped the bleeding, put him in a protective coma. With some potions and rest he'll be fine."

Lucius nodded, his dull gaze turning back to Mulciber.

"You've done well tonight, my friends. Our brethren will celebrate the blood you've shed for moving us closer to the future we all believe in. Go home, rest, savor the victory you've won. We'll reconvene soon."

He ushered them away with a gesture. Mulciber paused as he turned, Flint already almost half way out the door. He cocked his head at Lucius.

"What about you? Did things go smoothly?"

Dolohov snorted, but Lucius dutifully ignored it. He shook his head stiffly.

"Unfortunately not. There was a—struggle. We were detected, much the same as you, and the situation escalated. Mr. Shacklebolt did not survive."

Harry froze at that. Another surge of anger flared through the connection to Sirius, but he held it down. He eyed the stoic face of Dolohov behind Lucius and couldn't help the flicker of suspicion that bloomed in his gut. This sounded like his work.

Mulciber clicked his tongue, and looked away. "That...is regrettable. It'll bring attention down on our heads we don't want."

Lucius nodded solemnly. "Yes. Plans will need to be accelerated, risks taken. We cannot lose the initiative before our cover of obscurity is revealed. Be ready for my call, we'll need your abilities, now more than ever—men of action, who can do the things our more...delicate members don't have the stomach for."

Flint and Mulciber nodded proudly, apparently satisfied. Lucius turned away, his piece done, indicating for the others to leave.

"Boy, stay," Dolohov grunted.

Harry paused and stepped away from the door, Sirius following his lead behind him. The other two filed out, floating Varley out with them. Harry watched Dolohov carefully as he pushed himself off the wall and stalked his way over to them. He stopped a step away from Harry and eyed Sirius over his shoulder.

"He's under your Imperius?"

"Yeah."

"I've heard he's a tough wizard. Can you handle it?"

"I have experience," Harry said, meeting his gaze evenly. Dolohov stared at him for a long moment, searching for something in Harry's expression. Finally he eventually found it, or gave up, turning away with a snort. He waved his hand at Lucius and, to Harry's surprise, the man obediently walked over to the doors and peered out of them, making sure the others had left the building. Something ugly churned in Harry's stomach as he watched the aristocratic man turn around with a blank expression on his face.

"Do you have something for me to do?" Harry ventured.

"No, no," Dolohov waved his question away. "Nothing so direct. You're going back to the Potter's, no?"

"They don't know I left."

Dolohov nodded in understanding. "Good. I want you back there. Keep your ear to the ground. Listen to what they say about Shacklebolt—they should have some idea of the Ministry's response. Also, keep track of any mention of Black. If they start to suspect something with him, contact me immediately."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"You'll be contacted in a few days. Like Malfoy said, plans have been accelerated. Be ready."

Lucius's face had remained vacant the whole discussion, unresponsive to what Dolohov was saying. Dolohov noticed Harry looking and smiled.

"Don't worry about him anymore. Get Black back to his house with orders to wait, and then slip back into the Potter's. I'll be in contact."

Harry stepped past the obviously Imperiused Lucius and led Sirius down the hallway to the room his team had apparated out of what felt like hours ago. His breath felt heavy as he stalked across the carpeted floor, his mind whirling.

He didn't believe for a second that Kingsley's death was an accident. It must've seemed like a perfect opportunity to Dolohov—now he had the whole organization under his control. But what was his end goal?

Harry pulled Sirius into a disapparition chamber and relaxed the constraints over their connection. Sirius blinked, shaking his head.

"Bloody hell," He muttered. Harry remained silent, pensive.

"Who the hell was that?" Sirius prodded.

"Antonin Dolohov. He's Grindelwald's man, a highly ranked one, and dangerous. Stay away from him."

"Damn," Sirius whistled, his eyebrows knitting in consternation. "Grindelwald? He's behind this? I—I had no idea it was this big."

"It wasn't," Harry muttered dully. "Up till now it was just what you thought it was: home-brewed extremists and some wealthy sympathizers. Until they made contact with Europe and arranged for some 'assistance'."

"So Europe sent this Dolohov git?"

"And me," Harry sighed. Sirius's eyebrows shot up.

"That's who's got you compromised? Merlin, Evans, that's fuc—"

"I know," Harry cut him off. Sirius was quiet for a moment, swallowing that information.

"What's his plan? Now that he's got run of these lunatics."

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "He hasn't bothered to inform me about much, supposed Imperiused stooge and all that. All I do know is that Europe isn't as interested in reconciliation with Britain as they've been broadcasting. Whatever it is, it won't be good for us."

Sirius snorted, shaking his head.

"What?"

"You know, I wasn't entirely honest about all my reasons for wanting to join you in this ruse."

Harry looked back up at Sirius and was startled by the expression on his face. The ever-present grin had disappeared, the joyful gleam in his eyes replaced by a chilling harshness.

"Do you know how they knew where to find me? How you were able to bypass my defenses so easily?"

Harry frowned, momentarily thrown off. "I—no, but I noticed how strange it was. I thought Ministry plants, maybe, like with the floo, or—."

"My family," Sirius spat, surprising Harry with the venom in his tone. His jaw was gritted hard enough for it to visibly push against the flesh of his cheek.

"The only people who knew I would be there that weekend, the only people who could give you the blood and spells to pass the old Black protections. And I thought this might be the only way to figure out which of the bastards did it. Who tried to get me enslaved, who almost killed Pris."

He chuckled ruefully.

"I'm playing reckless, out for petty revenge—and you're trying to save the country. Made me realize what a fool I am."

"I'm just trying to survive," Harry said. It sounded weak, even to him.

Sirius shook his head. "Then you'd be on the other side of the world by now. I understand the stakes now—and I'll be ready. Keep me updated through the curse. I need to get back and make sure Pris is okay."

He vanished, leaving Harry alone in the room. His chest started to burn.

"This has been a troubling night," Riddle murmured from under his robes. "It seems our captor's designs are coming into picture. We must accelerate our own efforts to be ready."

"And what if we're not?"

There was a pause before Riddle responded.

"Then we must limit the damage as well as we can."