Vivien Lestrange thank you for all! I am pleased that my work is interesting especially for those who write.
I will try to put the following chapters on time. And in my opinion, all the most interesting has not even begun, but I need to move in this direction gradually, then everything will be more interesting, I hope.
Chapter 4
The first thing he saw was Hermione's eyes looking into his very soul. There was blood on her face again. Her dry, bitten lips moved, but the words did not reach Rodolphus. She wanted something from him, and he did not understand what. He could not say anything or even move, some irresistible weight pressed him to the cold ground. All he could do was watch the pulsation of light, which was reflected in worried brown eyes. He couldn't look away, couldn't even blink. When he finally got over his numbness, it seemed like an eternity. Hermione was no longer there. He did not notice how and when she disappeared. Rising, he rummaged in the pockets of his robes for the wand and found nothing.
Rodolphus looked around. He was in a confined space without visible walls, and the ceiling hung like a dark dome. A mess of things were piled up around, and when Rodolphus looked closely he realized that things were related to his past. Portraits of his distant ancestors hanging in the air without any support; photographs hung on thin ropes; stacks of read books and stacks of scribbled parchments; gifts from relatives and friends; personal belongings; all his brooms from the very first, which did not rise more than half a meter above the floor, to the very last, which crumbled to pieces, destroyed under the spell of the fake Harry; his magical telescope, he looked through at distant star systems when he was a boy; his toys, which he no longer even remembered; devices from a personal laboratory; his lime-green robe from St. Mungo's; even the Death Eater's garment with a cracked silver mask. All things were entangled in shiny cobwebs. And when he touched something, it made a melodic thin sound like the strings of a musical instrument.
He left behind a whole life of hope and expectation. Once in his youth, he was sure that one day he would do something great. And one day, driven by ambition and selfishness, he took for great something that was not great. Everything turned into a nightmare, into the curse of the Dark Mark and the bleak walls of Azkaban. His whole life was destroyed; even after returning to freedom, he felt like he was in ruins. Nothing of what was valuable before, now meant nothing to him and will never be useful again.
Rodolphus was looking at it all with mixed feelings as he wandered through the endless aisles. Then he came across further evidence of a mistake he had made. He looked at his wedding suit and Bellatrix's dress on faceless mannequins - both turned away from each other. It was almost amusing how the simple position of the mannequins reflected the true relationship of the spouses. His suit was covered in cobwebs, like everything else, but Bella's dress, which was once so beautiful and white, was a pathetic sight. The fabric had turned yellow with time, the hem was soaked with black spots creeping from an ink puddle on the floor, and there was a once luxurious veil lying on the floor in an untidy piece. The enchanted pink bouquet withered and crumbled, leaving only withered stems tied with an emerald ribbon and sticking out thorns.
Rodolphus walked down the aisles and came out to an even stranger place. The rubble was replaced by theatrical scenery. Places he has been to at least once. Entire gardens, rooms at his house, offices at the Ministry of Magic, chambers at St. Mungo's, classrooms at Hogwarts, and even a Quidditch pitch. He did not stop to examine scenes. And only hurrying around the walls of his prison cell, he froze. Cold chills ran down his spine at the sight of the next scene. He went straight to the modest inconspicuous interior, which he remembered to the smallest detail. It was a small, bright living room. The walls were covered with light lilac wallpaper, the lightest white curtains hung on the small windows, and a soft fluffy carpet lay on the floor. There were classic sofa and armchairs in in center of the room, opposite the fireplace. A rag toy lay in one of the chairs - an ugly tricolor cat with a torn off paw and eyes made of large yellow buttons. It seemed to be illuminated by a beam from above, demanding attention.
Rodolphus swore softly, clenched his fists and turned away, not wanting to think any more about what had already been done and what could not be changed. The past didn't matter anymore. All this had to be left behind, he should only look forward.
Suddenly he heard someone calling him. Rodolphus finally found the strength to move and quickened his pace, not paying more attention to anything around. As he walked towards the voice and tried to find right direction, the voice began to sound a little louder, and he could make out the words. "Find the Horcrux," it was Hermione's voice, and she repeated it over and over as he searched for her in this maze of his past.
"Hermione," he called, hoping that she would give at least a hint, "where are you?"
"Horcrux," she reminded, her voice even more quietly than the first time. It seems she moved away from him, although he thought he had chosen the right path. He needed to find the witch now, he knew with some instinct that she was in danger, and he promised Ron to protect her. The search for a way to her seemed very long, until it dawned on him that he would not get to her until he fulfilled her request.
"Horcrux," Rodolphus said to himself, discarding the worrying thoughts that the witch would simply disappear and he would never find her.
He has a purpose. For the first time in a long time, he found a new meaning, which seemed more significant than completely unfulfilled dreams. Did he think he could keep the wizarding world from the Muggle invasion, or that one day he and Bellatrix would have children together? He could only laugh at his naivety. Silly impossible dreams of an ideal life trampled to dust and torn to shreds.
Finally, he realized that his life would not be ideal, but he alone is responsible for the choices he made. Now he knew exactly where to go and what to do. As soon as he thought about it, a large metal door materialized in front of him.
He entered.
It was his vault in Gringotts. Rodolphus saw family heirlooms mutilated by black magic and mixed with human remains. He felt sick from the sight and the smell. Helga Hufflepuff's cup was on a stone pedestal in center. Rodolphus prepared to grab the artifact and run away. If by some miracle he escapes the curse, he will be able to give the cup to Hermione. If not, then at least he will try and die. He did just that. The cup burned his palm. Rodolphus squeezed his hand painfully so as not to drop the Horcrux. He ran to where he thought there was a way out. The door has disappeared. He couldn't get out, and then Harry appeared in front of him, standing over Ron's body. Rodolphus reflexively put out his wand, which for some reason ended up in his hand, but there were no enemies nearby. Harry smiled viciously at him and raised his wand, hissing something just like the Dark Lord to his snake.
Rodolphus didn't know what to do, he had to disarm the boy. As soon as he did this, Avada flew into Harry's back. Bellatrix laughed nearby. Rodolphus took a step back. The boy fell to the ground looking straight at him with his bright green eyes. Hermione sobbed out of nowhere, distressed, "What have you done?"
He looked around again to understand where her voice was coming from. And he found Hermione with a knife at her throat, in the hands of Bellatrix. 'Mudblood' was engraved on Hermione's arm. He raised his hand and aimed his wand at Bellatrix. The witch grinned at him, "Come, sweet, I'll give her to you with bleeding throat," Bellatrix promised.
Rodolphus woke up.
He rarely had nightmares. Occlumency helped him to realize at any moment that he was sleeping and he could easily interrupt unpleasant dreams. This time it never dawned on Rodolphus that he was asleep. He simply lived everything he saw, as in reality, letting the disturbing viscous images completely capture his attention.
Rodolphus lay and looked at the high ceiling made of Karelian birch, which illuminated with pink rays of sunrise. A strange feeling did not leave him. He could not classify or describe this sensation in any words. In the end, deciding that it was just a side effect of the potion or the aftermath of brain injury, he dismissed his concern and decided that he had slept enough.
He got out of bed, stretching his entire body. Without even remembering exactly how he got here last night, he did not change clothes for the night and so he slept all night. Rodolphus finished his morning routine and changed his clothes, then he stopped for a moment at the window to admire the views. The sun was hanging over the horizon already. Sunlight illuminated the garden, green hills and the river in the distance. He loved sunrises and therefore never closed the curtains at night in order to be awakened by the light of the rising sun in the morning. Bella always flatly refused to stay in the same bed with him for this reason. She had her own bedroom in the western part of the house, where the morning rays of the sun did not penetrate windows, where she could plunge into darkness and no one interfered with her.
He sorely missed that view from the window when he was in Azkaban. He didn't want to go back there when it's over, but he had no guarantees. Under the rule of the Dark Lord, he will be outside, but forced to grovel all his life. If Voldemort falls, Rodolphus may return to Azkaban, but in a way he will be freer. Sitting there was as painful as not breathing under water, but he no longer believed that he had a future, and therefore almost resigned himself to this thought.
Maybe Hermione will help him prove that he has become different, that he has improved? If they both survive, of course, because all their plans went downhill.
Since the capture of the Golden Trio ...
Rodolphus was the one who disarmed Harry. The boy was left defenseless in front of Voldemort and paid with his life. Rodolphus still did not understand what made him attack his ally. It was necessary to sort this out before it was too late. He couldn't find the answer in himself and it bothered him, as if a piece of the puzzle was missing. Some tiny essential detail. He needed to understand himself. He will not be able to blame the temporary clouding of his mind, he hit his head much later. Is he losing his mind? Had he been in Azkaban too long? Either he had a good reason, but he simply cannot remember, or ... There were actually a lot of options. He's never had a memory lapses before.
He scratched his chin and remembered the wound on his wrist. A mysterious cut he knew nothing about. Fortunately, the freeze manipulation helped stop the bleeding, but required updating. After changing the bandage, he sat quietly for a few minutes. He tried not to think about anything in order to gather himself and finally check if everything is fine with his head. When he felt that he was sufficiently collected and attentive he made a diagnosis. This business took time and some patience. The spell revealed no critical brain damage, only a very mild head injury that was almost healed by the potion. If he continues to heal, the consequences can be eliminated and everything will be all right. He may be forgetful a little more, but it won't last long. Only he didn't want to wait.
Twirling his wand in his hand, Rodolphus went to his office past the empty portrait's of his parents in hallway. They must have gone to Rabastan, with whom both were much more fun than the too serious Rodolphus. He entered the office, designed in the spirit of unobtrusive luxury, which tuned in to a working mood. The walls were covered with plain green wallpaper. Above the large fireplace hung another empty portrait of his father. So they could sometimes talk without third person, but the elder Lestrange appeared only as needed. Rodolphus sat down at his desk, took parchment and quill. He wanted to record the events that he remembered in chronological order, in order to link his own actions with some kind of logic.
When he finished drawing the diagrams, he looked at the work done. The conclusion that suggested itself: he got into the confidence of the Gryffindors in order to betray them. All agreed that he had deceived them. It could even be that it is his crime that Golden trio were caught through. Rodolphus could not believe this. Yes, he was not innocent and did much more terrible things in his life, but he did not feel that he could do that to the Golden trio. He had been messing with them for too long to throw them like that. He sincerely worried about the death of two boys. And he wanted Voldemort dead!
Especially now that the truth was revealed to him. Voldemort proved that the magical legacy was an empty phrase for him. Rodolphus learned his dirtiest and most disgusting secret and could use this information for his own purposes.
Doubt only came for a moment, but in the end Rodolphus did not want to admit malice. He just didn't remember everything. He had to keep drinking the potion. It will help restore the neural connections, and then he will remember that he was aiming at someone else or something else that would justify him completely. With this Rodolphus finished self-analysis and burned the parchment.
He should have checked out his guest.
She was still fast asleep, crawling under the covers in her clothes. She curled up into a fetal position and still looked completely vulnerable and small. He ran his wand over her body, checking the general condition and found no abnormalities, except for exhaustion and some consequences of the torture. She needed more rest. And when she wakes up, he had to feed her a simple but nutritious meal with a small amount, because despite all his efforts, she was clearly malnourished. It always seemed to him that he helped the Golden Trio with all he could, but in his memory none of the them seemed fed. The reason of it could be in prolonged worries about their mission. Rodolphus conjured a spell that tracked changes in her body and it could raise the alarm if something will happen. On this he left the girl.
For today, he could forget about Malfoy Manor with a clear conscience. Bellatrix did not want to see him yet, and he shared this feeling. Voldemort didn't summon him either, which was good. Rodolphus was not yet ready to cope with emotions, it was necessary to put his thoughts in order to successfully hide his true feelings: his anger at the mere thought of what Voldemort had done.
Hermione slept most of the day. Rodolphus tested the tracking charms a couple of times and noticed that her condition was improving even without external interference. She was in good health despite everything she went through. That was good. She was stronger than he initially thought. When she woke up, he sent her food. After waiting a while, he decided it was time for them to talk about the case.
When he entered, Hermione was sitting in an easy chair by the window, legs bent under her. She was enthusiastically rummaging in her bag. Rodolphus walked over to the second chair and sank into it. She closed her bag and looked at him. In an amicable way, he should have asked her about her well-being and whether she had everything she needed, but he already knew that she was suffering from the consequences of torture and, compared to her wanderings, this room should seem to her rather cozy and warm. He was tired of ignorance and needed answers, he asked "How did you know about the Horcruxes? Tell me, I need to know everything."
Hermione leaned back in her chair and shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position. Her voice sounded calm: "Okay, but it's a long story. For me it all started with Ginny Weasley ..."
Her story was long, but explained a lot. Dumbledore guessed the existence of the Horcruxes — thanks to the story with Ginny Weasley. For some reason this knowledge soothed Rodolphus. If it were Potter or Hermione herself, then Rodolphus would have questions about the adequacy of adolescents. Who did they need to be to seek such dark witchcraft at such a young age? Sometimes rumors were still recalled between Death Eaters that Potter could turn out to be another dark wizard. He would never have come close to Potter and his friends, if it were true or if Rodolphus had believed it for a second. He had enough dark wizards, although he himself was one of them.
Dumbledore was a different matter. He had already defeated one great sorcerer once. There was no need to doubt his motives. He did not crave power, although he could well have it, becoming worse than Voldemort and Grindelwald combined. The Headmaster has solved many of the secrets of the Dark Lord. He realized that there was not only one Horcrux. He found two more hidden places with the Horcruxes. He dugged up information about Voldemort and memories that are directly related to him. Somehow he even found out about the unfortunate orphans who were tortured as a child. And he shared all his knowledge with Harry. Headmaster believed in Potter. Perhaps he hoped to have time to destroy all the Horcruxes and he destroyed the ring, but he never found out that the locket in the cave was a fake. Snape killed him before he had a chance.
So Potter and his friends were the only carriers of the secret: the teenagers dropped out of school for a great mission. They had no chance of winning.
The Gryffindors hid the truth from everyone, it was arrogant and stupid, but justified, because there were worse dangers. Rodolphus understood their choice and would have done the same in their place. You cannot entrust such a secret to just anyone, because it is not known who and how will use the knowledge. Will that person sell information to enemies? Or will that person decide to use the information for selfish purposes in order to prolong life.
What Rodolphus didn't understand was why Hermione hadn't bothered to leave him at least a hint just in case.
Her story turned to how they stole the locket from Dolores Umbridge. After that, the search was stalled. She complained that Dumbledore left too many mysteries and for some reason wanted them to know about the legend of the Deathly Hallows. She paused, letting him digest all the information that had befallen him.
"I don't understand, Dumbledore left such a difficult mission for the teenagers," Rodolphus finally concluded. He felt sorry for Ronald, who actually had a choice not to take this path. But he just chose to go with his friends.
"And I do not understand why I should know about the Deathly Hallows. Not that I dreamed of owning them," Hermione muttered displeasedly. "How was this supposed to help destroy the Horcruxes? Because of a false tip, we went to see Mr. Lovegood. And then they caught us. It killed Harry and Ron!" She slammed her fist hard on her palm, but immediately hissed in pain. Rodolphus didn't know what to say to comfort her, but he had to tell her about his meeting with Voldemort and about Gringotts. What he kept silent about is all the dubious points: that it was he who disarmed Potter. Avoiding sharp corners, he sketched out the situation in the vault. "... He cursed the contents of the vault: all the jewels, all the gold are now on guard of the Horcrux by a curse on blood."
By the end of his story, Hermione had noticeably darkened.
Voldemort perverted the essence of such important historical artifacts as Salazar's locket and Hufflepuff's cup; he dared to spoil something so valuable and important to the magical heritage. Now he has poisoned the Lestrange family treasures. Rodolphus chuckled mirthlessly. Voldemort did not care about the fate of the wizarding world and the status of blood, all his promises were just a beautiful fairy tale to win the hearts of supporters. They voluntarily accepted the Dark Mark, becoming his personal slaves. Rodolphus remembered a young man who had been killed for the needs of Voldemort, whose name he had never asked. But the guy was probably pureblood.
"How to get the cup from there? Did I really believe it would be easy?" Hermione stood up abruptly and began to pace the room.
"I could have endured the Horcrux earlier," Rodolphus reminded her.
She shook her head, she must have argued with herself on this topic many times. "We didn't tell the Order of the Phoenix. And I wouldn't tell you if I had the chance to do this journey alone. No matter how simple or better this or that solution may seem, I am still responsible for it."
"But now it's more complicated." he couldn't help but prick her with this.
Hermione looked at him very strangely and said softly: "That's right, things got complicated. And I don't even remember when everything was easy."
Everything overlapped so strangely. He could not remember when his life was easy, too. Each time he was convinced that he would pay for his mistakes, which he managed to commit. And the further he went, the more new mistakes he made. He hoped he was doing the right thing this time, but the worry did not drown out.
"Is your vault large? Are there a lot of things?" Hermione returned to the chair opposite him.
"Yes it large. There is the treasures accumulated over many generations," he replied.
"We need to weigh everything and think about what to do with it. In the meantime, what do we have? We know where the two Horcruxes are. And it won't go anywhere. You are now the most powerful Death Eater. And I can look for the next Horcrux. It's not that bad." She was reasonable.
Rodolphus agreed with this. He suddenly remembered the newspaper he had brought her, but it remained in the pocket of his robe in the room, he summoned it with a spell. Hermione watched the robe as it flew into the room, until he took out the newspaper and handed it to her, "Here's a fresh Daily Prophet. I thought you'd like to know how things are presented to the public."
Hermione accepted the newspaper from his hand and simply stared at the front page. Her face was very pale and breath was very slow. Rodolphus hastened to bring her to her senses: "Do not try to faint. You saw how they were killed."
She just wispered "I remember. It's just ... it's still difficult. We went through so much together, they were always there. I still can't believe it." She was still staring mesmerized at the faces of her friends. Rodolphus had never seen her cry over the death of the boys. It was weird. He himself had once managed to bring her to tears, but the death of her friends seemed to freeze any emotions out of her. It looked vaguely like a shock, but it wasn't shock. Maybe he shouldn't have brought the Daily Prophet. He was already thinking about taking the newspaper away from her so that she would not get upset further, but she suddenly turned the page and began to look at other news. She quickly pulled herself together and passed out from grief. It wasn't something she was trying to portray, he remembered what a terrible actress she was. She was just rational. This was a good trait for their mission. Perhaps that's why they were able to work together in the end.
"The Order of the Phoenix probably already knows." Her eyes suddenly widened with realization. "You said He was hurt when he returned. Who attacked him?"
"Nymphadora Tonks," Rodolphus replied, realizing that he hadn't been focusing on this when he recounted what had happened.
"Tonks? But she ... Oh my God!" Hermione dropped the newspaper and covered her mouth with her hands. "She was pregnant. She is alive?"
Rodolphus hastened to calm her down.
"She escaped. The Dark lord mentioned that she had a huge belly. And he ordered Rabastan to kill her."
Hermione dropped her head in her hands and muttered inaudibly: "I have to warn her of the danger."
"You forgot, you are considered dead. Opening up, you will ruin me and yourself," Rodolphus called the newspaper to him and began to look through the news himself.
"You think she'll deliver the information straight to You-Know-Who?" Hermione raised her head and glared at him. "I trust her. She will keep the secret. And I MUST warn her. Hell, but how can I do this? ... Is your brother going to kill her?"
Rodolphus pondered. Rabastan was a wonderful strong wizard, he knew a lot of dark spells, was dexterous, quick. He had just impenetrable shields, although once they were nevertheless demolished playfully, but this is rather an exception to the rule. But Rabastan also had drawbacks: he could be easily unbalanced, he was never really cold-blooded. Tonks, on the other hand, was an Auror with combat training, the obvious benefits of her metamorphosis ability. She did not serve fourteen years in Azkaban, unlike Rabastan. And now she was at the stage of increasing magical power.
"Sooner or later he will hunt her down, but will he be able to kill her or will she kill him? The second is more likely. She's an Auror after all. In addition, a pregnant witch is worse than a dozen Aurors, even without a wand, she can defend herself. She probably hoped for this circumstance. But the Dark Lord did not become the Dark Lord for his beautiful eyes," Rodolphus rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. His life had revolved around Voldemort for nearly twenty years. He wanted to end this long story once and for all.
"You don't want your brother dead, do you?" the girl's voice sounded doubtful. He chuckled: "Of course not!"
"Then what should we do so that they do not kill each other?" she asked with worried face.
Rodolphus suggested the only thing he could: "I'll talk to Rabastan. I'll ask him not to try too hard to find Nymphadora. She is a metamorphomagus, if the search will last for a long time, no one will be surprised. But someday he will have to fight her. At least for the sake of appearance. Otherwise, the Dark Lord will decide that he is useless and will kill him himself."
Hermione perceptibly perked up, it seemed now she was ready to rush headlong into a stormy activity. Her eyes sparkled. The Gryffindors switched to standby so easily. He liked it and didn't like it at the same time. Rodolphus was sure that now she was going to do something, maybe something stupid, and he would not be able to stop her. He was not wrong.
"Then all I have to do is to give Tonks a message. I have an idea, I'll send her a Patronus. Could you lend me your wand?" she looked at him pleadingly.
It was not customary for pureblood wizards to take other people's wands. Someone else's wand could be taken away, but not borrowed. Rodolphus hesitated. He'd let Hermione take his wand before. Moreover, for some reason his wand obeyed her. Therefore, he decided that in general nothing bad would happen.
He was going to go back to Malfoy Manor yesterday after Gringotts to find her wand. But he forgot about it. He rushed home, worried about how many problems have increased in recent days. All he cared about at that moment was the curse of Voldemort. He'll have to go back to the manor; Hermione mustn't be defenseless.
The girl accepted the magic wand as something fragile and gently squeezing it in her hand. Rodolphus was going to see how she casts her spells, a lot could be told about the person by the way she casts. He became curious to know something more about Hermione. Her measured gesture suggested that it was not just the second time she had used this spell. Her technique had been worked out almost to perfection. She used magic with confidence. Her voice sounded clear and soft "Expecto patronum!"
The tip of the wand glowed with pure white light. The girl's face lit up. She at this moment did not look tired, exhausted and tortured. She seemed to glow from the inside herself and this light was going to the end of the magic wand. The light erased the shadows of weariness on her face and made it beautiful. Light played in curly hair. Rodolphus's skin tingled with the sensation of magic in space. It was not like what he felt in the dungeons of Gringotts. This magic was completely different.
The light separated from the wand and swirled around the room flying over them. With each passing moment, taking on a clearer shape, it left behind a winding train. It was a small animal with an oblong streamlined body, small paws and a long tapering tail. Strength and dexterity were felt in every movement. Otter! It moved smoothly around the room, illuminating the space around with radiance and warmth. Rodolphus felt very calm and well. The emptiness and anxiety that had gnawed at him since yesterday simply disappeared, giving way to deep peace. The animal approached him as if feeling that he needed more of this light and warmth. Rodolphus held out his hand. The glowing Patronus dabbed a small muzzle on the tips of his fingers. It didn't feel like something material, but it was more than tangible. It conveyed a pleasant warmth and tingling sensation. Patronus cheerfully whirled around the magician, starting some unknown game.
Rodolphus was so mesmerized that he almost forgot about Hermione and the reason why she summoned Patronus. Hearing her measured voice and thoughtful words, Rodolphus turned his gaze to the girl. She was very focused in dictating her message. "Tonks, you are being hunted. Hide in a safe place. Take care of yourself and the child. Don't try to challenge You-Know-Who. It's impossible to kill him now, but I'm close to making it possible. You will hear about my death in the coming days. Don't try to contact me. Please keep this message a secret."
She sighed tightly. A diagnostic charm signaled that her performance was slightly less stable. Her heartbeat quickened. Hermione took a deep breath, she needed to see the case through. "Bring this message to Tonks when she's alone," she gasped, addressing the Patronus. The otter tumbled in the air and then disappeared into the distance, flying through the glass. The room became noticeably cooler.
"Thanks," said Hermione, returning the wand to Rodolphus, "This should help." She looked out the window anxiously.
When the wand was in his hands again, Rodolphus did not expect to experience something again, as in contact with the Patronus; he was stunned when this happened. The wand could convey an echo of unfamiliar magic, and he did not know about it yet. He felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. Echoes of energy rolled up his arm, and a pleasant shiver ran through his body. It was a feeling of happiness. Pure rapture. It was so unusual. It was magic.
