Today the circle of Death Eaters was small. In addition to the Dark Lord, there were nine of them. They sat in a large living room at a long table. And they were dressed in dark battle robes, with silver masks laid out on a glossy table surface.
Corban Yaxley took off his ministerial uniform and changed into Death Eaters cloak, the smile of a public person did not leave his face. In contrast, Antonin Dolohov sat next to him. He was frowning, absent-mindedly examining his nails and knitting his eyebrows at the bridge of his nose, as if faced with an impossible dilemma. He must have discovered yet another imperfection in one of his creations and was now wondering how to perfect the spell. Rowley, fair and sturdy, and Rookwood, with his scarred face, were talking and chuckling quietly among themselves. Crabbe was the only one who had the appearance of a man accustomed to excesses, but this never prevented him from fully participating in battles. A sleepy Draco carefully kept his eyes wide open as he sat between both Carrow and Rabastan.
Rabastan was dark-haired and sharp like their mother, and he was also wiry and tall like their father. He met his older brother with a surprised look and briefly nodded. Rodolphus sat next to him, at the Dark Lord's right hand, becoming the tenth Death Eater.
Voldemort looked at them with red eyes, paying close attention to each one. Rodolphus hid his true thoughts and bowed his head respectfully, by habit rooted in the depths of his consciousness
"Everyone gathered. No one else will come," said the Dark Lord, "Corban, speak."
Yaxley got up from his chair so that everyone could see him and hear him speaking: "Some of you already know that the Weasley family is on the run."
Some of them heard about it for the first time. For example, Rodolphus. Although there was nothing surprising in this news. He could have guessed for himself that red-haired wizards would not be given a simple life.
"These blood traitors have long tested our patience," Yaxley said meanwhile. - "The last straw was the lie about the illness of their youngest son, who actually helped Harry Potter all this time. There is no forgiveness for this."
"Finally," those present supported this statement.
Corban got the expected reaction and raised his hand for silence. When the Death Eaters listened to him again, he continued: "Their daughter hasn't returned to school from Easter holidays. Their house is abandoned. We put all members of their family on the wanted list. And today we received information. Three of them have been seen in the same place for several days in a row."
Corban laid out on the table several photos taken secretly. These photos were passed from hand to hand one after another. When it was Rodolphus's turn to look at them, he saw a lanky man, his plump short wife and petite stature daughter. He recognized Ginny Weasley: she was in the Department of Mysteries two years ago with Potter and company.
Weasleys were walking along the street of some settlement and moved with exaggerated caution, as if the paint lacked a magical animating fluid. All three looked around. Even without leads, their behavior alone aroused suspicion. Dressed in simple Muggle clothes, almost like Hermione's, they tried to look like ordinary people, but did not think of changing their appearance. Their flaming red hair and a freckled complexion was enough to get into the field of view of Yaxley's spies.
"Today we will finish them."
Further discussion was short. Corban has already independently developed a plan of action. He was the instigator of this raid and was responsible for the quality of the execution. He personally chose each: the members of the assembled team had to complement each other like puzzles. Having distributed the roles and coordinated the actions, they went on a mission. Voldemort remained to wait for the result.
Ten of them walked to the barrier to apparate after Yaxley. When they were on the street outside the gloomy mansion, each of them relaxed in their own way, throwing off the oppressive tension from their shoulders.
Alecto became quite cheerful and decided to start a conversation to dilute the long way through the alley. As a curious person, she was interested in the question of relationships: "I heard that Potter was in love with Weasley girl."
Potter has always been the star of discussion in their circles. The habit was so ingrained that even his death didn't change it. Everything from adventures and preferences to what makes the Boy-who-lived so special has come up many times in discussions between Death Eaters.
"I always thought that his passion was a Mudblood," Dolohov was surprised. - "All the time when I saw them — they were together."
"Who would ever like a Mudblood Granger? Did you even see the nest on her head?" Draco grimaced, finally throwing off his drowsiness. "Yes, they were together all the time, and Ron Weasley was with them. Didn't you really notice him? They have been friends since the first year. They were always breaking the rules together. And then they got extra points for it from Dumbledore, also all together. So they thought they could do anything... when they were together."
When Draco entered the discussion, Rodolphus listened. The young man was usually silent when asked about Potter and company. But with the death of the Golden trio, his tongue loosened.
"But their friendship didn't make the Mudblood attractive even to her friends. Even for them she was just a boring know-it-all," Draco's words drew chuckles from the Death Eaters and amused them. He continued to scold Hermione ruthlessly: "Her school robe hung on her like a rag on a mop. Neither Potter nor Weasley wanted to invite her to the Yule Ball. The poor thing had to look for a fool among foreigners. The Weasley girl looked like a queen compared to Granger."
In Draco's story, Hermione was a pathetic girl, and Potter and the Weasleys were the last fools. Rodolphus suspected that Malfoy deliberately exaggerated to amuse the audience. Draco was Hermione's age and he continued to attend school, while she was pretending to be dead and hid from the enemies she had made in her short life. It was hard to tell how honest Draco was in his judgments.
"So, Potter preferred the redhead," - Dolohov pronounced the verdict. "He had good taste."
To them, Hermione was dead. Washing her bones became boring, much more curious now was to discuss the Weasley girl.
"Remind me how they talk about the girl at school?" Amicus asked Draco, apparently not for the first time.
"Bright as a flame! Fast like a Snitch! Fearless as a lioness!" Draco chanted in a squeaky voice, eliciting a roar of laughter.
"Let's see how she fights," said Dolohov. "I bet the redhead will incapacitate one of you in a direct fight. Whoever hurts her first will get a drink from me!"
Outraged exclamations and new bets sounded in response. Pampering in the company of the Death Eaters was common, but it always reeked of rot and decay.
Rodolphus listened to them indifferently, thinking of his own. Hermione must have expected him to bring bad news about her friends. She will have to put up with it. She always tried to hide her feelings, but today he saw how close she was to losing control of herself. Drop by drop, the cup of patience threatened to overflow. What would happen then he did not know. She could break down, she could go crazy, she could decide to end her life. There is no demand from the dead. He was angry that he could not say for sure how long it would last. He did everything to soften her fall. He even brought Winky, a house elf, into his house just to keep Hermione calm. But at the same time, he still felt that he had to do more. Although Merlin alone knew what could be done.
Rabastan caught up with him at a pace. He, too, remained detached, watching blankly what was happening, listening to the conversations, looking straight ahead, and he was silent. There was just a sense of impatience coming from him. Finally, he whispered: "I sent you a letter today, you didn't reply."
"I've been busy," said Rodolphus. Perhaps the owl was still waiting for him in the owlery.
"You got drunk, it smells from you a mile away," Rabastan reproachfully threw, "Is that what you've been doing?"
Rodolphus waved it off, "Now I can't even drink a shot of firewiskey before going to bed?"
"No, if this shot is the size of a dragon's egg…" Rabastan's grey eyes flashed with anger.
They approached the outer barrier, the chuckles and banter subsided, as did Rabastan's rebuke.
"Put on your masks and follow me to our destination." Yaxley masked his face and waved his wand, leaving a trail for everyone present to track his progress.
Rabastan held Rodolphus by the hand, "When we're done, we need to talk." Rabastan's tone suggested that the conversation would be long.
Of course, Rabastan did not pester his brother during the mission. Instead, he went along with Draco and Yaxley to observe from the air. Both Carrows, Crabbe and Rowley crouched in the darkness in the surrounding streets. No one knew exactly where the Weasleys were supposed to come from, but they always entered the mansion in the outskirts. It was there, not far from the entrance, that Rodolphus sat in ambush. Dolohov and Rookwood were with him. They were here to create a field around so that no one could leave the territory.
It was quiet. The lights have long gone out in many houses of the settlement. Dogs barked in the distance. No one could explain why the Weasleys were returning so late, but that was what was in line with the denunciation.
Rookwood finished his part of the work and fixed an interested look on Rodolphus. So stubborn, as if he begged to speak to him.
He was almost as tall as Rodolphus, with greying curly hair and a scarred face hidden behind a silver mask. He rarely came forward. He gave the impression of a reasonable person, at his own will he could seem quiet and harmless, sometimes even modest. Actually it was a mask. That is why he has been spying for the lord so successfully for so many years. No one could bring him to the surface for a long time. However, not only because of this, Voldemort trusted him.
"Do you want to ask something?"
"I have heard rumors," said Rookwood, bowing his head, "that your property was badly damaged."
How did he know? Of course, Bellatrix was completely devoted to her husband only in an ideal world far from reality, but she would never share personal information with Augustus.
All this time Dolohov was busy weaving magical restrictions. But when he heard the conversation, he also turned around to ask flippantly: "What happened, Rodolphus, were you robbed or did you play cards?"
Rodolphus hated it. When his personal affairs provoked interest, like gossip read from the newspaper. It was almost unbearable to discuss something personal with third parties. Rookwood was too fond of gossip for a professional Unspeakable. Creating the feeling that he was laying out everything he knew, he collected a variety of information. He loved mysteries so much. And he loved personal secrets.
"Everything is relatively intact," Rookwood answered instead of Rodolphus, "except that Rodolphus's treasures are cursed."
"How did it happen?" Antonin was sincerely surprised and leaned forward, hoping to hear the details.
"Ask Rookwood," Rodolphus waved him off.
Augustus shrugged "The Dark Lord had a hand in this, that's all I know."
"I wish I could take a look at this," - for Dolohov this was a curious circumstance over which he could puzzle over. His attitude was ordinary. Both for him and for Rookwood, curses were a field of professional interest. Antonin made bumps on his own skin, but he had his own principles and code. And Rookwood did not disdain anything at all.
"Me too," said Rookwood.
The boring wait dragged on.
"Theoretically, any item can be cleansed of magic. The question is - at what cost," - Dolohov still did not let up, he shared his thoughts after a couple of minutes.
"And how would you achieve it?" Rookwood asked with disbelieving interest.
"Well, you know, it's impossible to retell the theory in a nutshell. You should have more than just Unforgivable spells in your arsenal."
Both laughed. Rodolphus pretended to find it funny too, although the chatter of these two was beginning to annoy. Dolohov and Rookwood began to discuss the basics of magic. It was like an exploratory discussion between two scientists wrestling with the same question. Rodolphus sometimes inserted remarks or nodded in agreement with some statement, but he himself continued to think of his own: how to get to the Horcrux, which he almost had in his hands, but which was impossible to reach. How will Hermione react to the massacre of the Weasleys. She once said that there is a price they have to pay, but can she really accept it steadfastly.
"So, what do you think, Rodolphus. Could you bring it to me?" he heard Augustus ask.
He had completely lost the thread of the conversation and was now trying to figure out what the two had been talking about for the past few minutes. They both stared at him expectantly.
"Sorry, August, I got a little distracted. What did you ask?"
Rookwood explained: "The Mudblood. She was smart. It would be right to study her brain, or rather her whole body, in the laboratory."
Rodolphus was perplexed. Although this could be expected from Augustus Rookwood. More than any other Death Eater, he lacked principles. Even his involvement with the Death Eaters would seem absurd if it weren't true. Although he was a pureblood, Rookwood spoke of this superiority with a touch of irony. He devoted himself to the study of the mysteries of magic. That's all he really cared about. Voldemort must have promised him complete freedom to explore, so both of them benefited from this cooperation. Yes, it is cooperation. Voldemort never, in Rodolphus' memory, punished Augustus Rookwood like the others.
"Antonin also considers this an important step," Augustus said softly, seeing that Rodolphus was digesting his request for a long time. "We need to understand what is so special about her kind that she was granted with magic power."
Rodolphus was silent. He was well in control of his emotions, but now he could only listen and did not know what to say. And Augustus went on, almost like a medi-wizard trying to persuade a child to swallow a bitter cough mixture:
"And I asked you if you could bring me her head or show me where the body is. Not much time has passed, rotting should be little in such cold weather."
Head. Rotting. Body. She is just another object for him to study, isn't she? So he talked about Hermione, whom Rodolphus barely pumped out after a cardiac arrest. He listened to her heartbeat at least once a day. He tracked a measured, harmonious rhythm, by the frequency of strokes he could understand whether she was excited or calm. He was lookinh for deviations and, when he did find nothing, released an invisible string of spell. Even now he could reach out with his mind to her, in order to feel the tender thrill.
"There's nothing left," said Rodolphus.
Rookwood blinked several times in confusion "How so?"
"There's nothing left of her, I didn't leave anything," there must have been something unhealthy in his expression, which caused Dolohov and Rookwood to look away with some disgust. Rodolphus suppressed a burst of laughter. The beasts thought he was a monster. He couldn't help but smirk, still amused at the irony of the situation, "I'm sorry August, I didn't think you might need some... part."
But they lagged behind Rodolphus with their stupid requests. Although Rookwood was visibly saddened.
"Well, don't be so upset, August," Dolohov consoled him. - "Well, let Rodolphus indulge in a passion for destruction. We'll fix everything. The world is full of other Mudbloods."
"Yes, but I wanted to get this particular Mudblood, since there is no other boy-who-lived in the world," said Rookwood.
"And what about him?" Rodolphus asked, without specifying what Augustus was interested in.
"His body never reached me. Yaxley does not give a reason. Our Corban thinks he controls everything. He doesn't even realize the significance of my research."
Rodolphus marveled at how the latest news passed him by. This should have been fixed soon.
"Corban isn't that bad. He just sometimes goes too far," Dolohov stood up for Yaxley.
"Quiet," Rodolphus hissed at them.
Three people appeared at the entrance to the house. It was without a doubt the older Weasleys and their daughter. The father of the family checked the house with charms before entering. When they were convinced that the house was still empty, they disappeared behind the door.
"They didn't walk down the street today," Dolohov remarked.
Rookwood signaled to the others to come up to the house.
Yaxley was the last to go down on his broom, when the others had already gathered. He was annoyed that things weren't going according to plan right now.
"The main thing is not to let them slip away," he commanded.
Death Eaters spread out to silently enter the house from different directions. Rodolphus entered from the back door with Dolohov and Rookwood. Yaxley, Draco and Rabastan flew up to the attic. The rest - from the main entrance.
Inside, the mansion was eccentrically featureless. Like all created by muggles. An abundance of smooth surfaces polished to a mirror shine, pretentious ugly monochrome daubs on giant canvases, meaningless sculptural compositions, dry branches in huge unattractive flowerpots. Gloomy gray shades. Almost the whole house was illuminated by a cold pale light. Soft music was coming from the living room.
Death Eaters crept up unnoticed. All three Weasleys were standing by the fireplace, which was surrounded by a strange black screen. They threw robes over Muggle clothes and silently waited for something. The Death Eaters simply walked in no longer hiding, "Petrificus Totalus! Expeliarmus! Incendio!" - Crabbe, Yaxley and Rowley were the first to use magic.
The spells bounced off the Weasleys, though none of them even raised their hand. All three turned around. They weren't at all surprised.
"Hmm, ten Death Eaters have been sent after us," said Arthur Weasley, scanning the dark shapes with his eyes. "Do you think they underestimate us, Mrs. Weasley?"
Rodolphus felt a tip of wand pressed against his back. "Stupefy," he heard from behind. He dodged before the enemy finished the spell.
There were shouts from all sides. There were flashes. Spells flew. The Weasleys entered the fray, and with them several other people. They were hidden under invisible hats, which flew in the heat of the struggle.
None of the famous Order members, except Weasley, were here. But there was Neville Longbottom and a few other people no older than seventeen. They all wore the same robes as the Weasleys. Battle spells flew away from them for no apparent reason.
"Shield robes?" Yaxley yelled angrily, pissed off at being fooled. - "The effect will be brief! Crucio!"
The robe did not protect the guy with dark skin and dreadlocks on his head. The Unforgivable broke through the shield easily. He stumbled and spun on the floor in agony. Yaxley laughed.
"Seamus, burn!" shouted Longbottom, pulling his tortured friend aside.
It turned out that most of the Death Eaters were in the very center of the room by that time. Weasley and the youngsters scattered. Meanwhile, one guy, Seamus, threw a spell into a giant chandelier hanging on the ceiling. Dozens of vials of explosive potions were tied to it, sparkling and bubbling inside the thin glass.
The death eaters instantly realized what was happening. Rabastan and Rodolphus rushed in one direction. Dolohov, Crabbe and Rowley in another. Alecto stumbled, but her brother picked her up and dragged her out of the line of fire. Rookwood's mask fell off as he backed away.
There were explosions. Debris rained down from the ceiling, almost crushing the Death Eaters.
Draco and Yaxley, who were under the chandelier itself, could not be seen under the rubble.
"They lured us here!" Alecto was outraged.
"Yes! But without the Dark Mark, they won't go far. We've blocked all the exits," Dolohov growled. Feeling his native passion, he chased after the enemies. The other death eaters followed him.
Rabastan and Rodolphus began to dig Draco out from under the rubble. The guy was alive, but unconscious. Rabastan saw a hand sticking out of the wreckage and began to rake that place.
"I found Corban," Rabastan said.
Rodolphus pretended not to hear, and left his brother to deal with all this on his own.
Screams were heard somewhere in the house. Antonin was right. The opponents couldn't leave so easily.
He ran down the corridor and noticed a silent shadow out of the corner of his eye, which he followed. The room was empty at first glance. Rodolphus looked around carefully. There was a barely audible sigh outside the door to the back room. Lestrange approached and yanked open the door. A thin, fair-haired young man fell out. At the same time, he threw a black powder into the air, the room plunged into darkness.
Rodolphus could not see anything at all and Lumos did not help to dispel the black density.
"Incendio!" — he heard to his left.
Rodolphus didn't know if the boy could see somehow in the dark, and jumped aside just in case. The spell touched his shoulder lightly. He threw out an invisible whip at random and heard the characteristic sound of the whip meeting with flesh. He swung again. The whip went over the hard surfaces. Hurried footsteps sounded very close. Another swing with all his might, and this time Rodolphus hit the target. The young man fell from the blow, at least that sound was like a fall.
From somewhere below and to the right, the guy shouted: "Flippendo!"
Shield charms easily repelled the attack, sending a spell at the guy himself. It was heard as he drove across the floor all the way to the wall.
Listening intently, Rodolphus swung his whip once more... He suddenly heard a painful muffled sob. Rodolphus did not see and did not know in what condition his opponent was, but this sound made him lower his hand. He never struck.
"What am I doing?" he thought with belated remorse. Hermione's face was in his mind's eye, the way she looked when he left that evening. She understood why he was leaving. All these guys and girls are her friends. And he was sent here to kill.
He forgot himself so easily. It was as if he had returned to the past, where in the heat of a deadly battle he had only two options — to kill or be killed.
But now it was different. The days when, instead of controlling himself, he could afford to plunge into battle without a second thought are over. He was walking on thin ice and had no right to make a mistake. He no longer had the right to kill unless absolutely necessary. Especially those who were no longer his enemy.
This young man and Rodolphus himself were on the same side. No one knew it yet, but it was only now that Rodolphus realized this simple truth.
"Petri..." he heard.
The wizard instantly raised his hand: "Expeliarmus," — he caught the magic wand.
The guy was trying to crawl judging by the sounds.
The wizard approached, squatted down and found the guy's shoulder with his hand in the dark.
"What's your name?" he asked not really hoping to get an answer.
"My name is Colin Creevey. I'm Muggle-born and proud of it!" — he said in a voice overflowing with emotion. His voice was still breaking, reminding that he was just a teenager. Not an adult wizard, not a serious dangerous opponent capable of killing. A boy who is trying to survive.
"Good. Colin, tell me, do you have a lot of blood? Where are your wounds?"
Colin did not answer. Rodolphus felt rather than heard him stretch and make a sudden movement. The wizard managed to recoil from something heavy that whistled right next to his face. The dialogue didn't work.
"Confundus" - with a heavy thud, the young man dropped the makeshift weapon. He no longer tried to fight back. Then Rodolphus put the wand to his shoulder and tested him with the quickest and simplest diagnostic enchantment, so as not to waste time.
Rodolphus' hand turned out to be heavy, he did not spare the young man, and this is the result. Colin received deep wounds. Not critical for life, but very traumatic and painful. Having hastily healed what he could in the dark, Rodolphus got to his feet, dragged the guy by the scruff back to the back room, where he knocked him out with Stupefy. He then locked the door with several spells. Until the end of the battle, Colin Creevy, who left without a magic wand, was safe.
Rodolphus hid the taken wand in a secret pocket. Finally, he got a weapon for Hermione. He thought that the owner would have to be killed, but things turned out much better. He didn't have to cross the line.
When he left the room, he was relieved to find that he could see again. The darkness was local. Silence reigned in the house. Only occasionally a muffled noise could be heard from somewhere. Rodolphus chose the direction at random, wondering where everyone had gone. The mansion was quite large and almost everywhere the same. It was easy to get lost in the gray-white range, angular details and the lack of eye-catching landmarks.
He wandered into the kitchen. Half-eaten sandwiches, bottles of butterbeer, glasses on the table, and candy wrappers lay almost everywhere as if five minutes ago a company was feasting here. Among all this, a small five - sided box was found. It immediately caught his eye, because the only one was untouched. It was a chocolate frog. Rodolphus smiled and put it in his pocket. He began to believe in good signs and his own luck.
Then there was a clatter of several feet, screams and swearing from corridor. Rodolphus hurried there. Rookwood and Rowley sat in hiding at the foot of a large wooden staircase.
"Confringo!" Rowley shouted, casting a spell at the stairs.
"Protego maxima!" immediately came from above.
Rowley's spell rebounded and shattered the column, his own hideout. The house suddenly shook as if from an earthquake. The walls groaned, electric lights flickered, then everything calmed down.
Up there someone noticed Rodolphus' approach. A spell was cast on him. He dived behind the door frame, and where he had just been, a hole formed in the floor. Looking out of the shelter, he realized that the defense was held by three people. Behind the railing of the stairs, now and then flashed the long red hair of the younger Weasley, with her was a guy named Seamus and a black-haired girl. They were in a good position. From above, they could see much more than the Death Eaters from below. But they crowded into a group in vain, it would be better if they were divided into different angles for reliability.
Rookwood also noticed this. He took aim, summoning the snake directly to the span where the three were hiding. The girls yelped and jumped out of hiding as the boy grabbed the snake with his bare hands and threw it at the Death Eaters. At the same moment, he was stunned by Thorfinn's spell. And the next curse flew out of August's wand and flew towards the redhead girl. She rolled down the stairs, miraculously escaping the curse. In the process, she knocked second girl down. Both them rolled out onto the nearest flight of stairs. Finally entangled in the skirts of their robes, which were no longer suitable for protection. Girls frantically tried to throw off the matter curled around their legs, blithely open to any attack.
Rodolphus used the Reducto to break the stairs just in time. Rowley conjured the Killing Curse. Both girls flew down along with wooden blocks. But they escaped death. The fall was not strong. Rodolphus, from his vantage point, saw how they landed. At the last moment before hitting the marble floor, they froze in the air, after which they run away into the nearest room.
Thorfinn cursed foully and took off, Rookwood not far behind. Rodolphus followed them. He crossed the threshold of the next room, two abandoned robes lay at the entrance, and a large piece of ice blocked the way, Rowley was shackled up to his shoulders in it. He tried to escape from captivity by brute force. Rodolphus quickly looked around the room, there were not many reflective surfaces. Thorfinn probably didn't see him. The wizard raised his wand to the back of his head. The fewer of his colleagues scurry around the house, the better the outcome of this raid will be. He stunned the blond. Even if by some miracle the ice melts, Rowley won't hurt anyone.
In the next room, Rookwood fought both girls.
"Cho, back me up!" Weasley screamed and immediately rolled towards the column away from the precarious cover behind the chair. In time. Rookwood blew up the chair. Cho leaned out from behind a pillar right under the ceiling, somehow holding herself upside down and suddenly her Confundus spell hit the Unspeakable. Weasley realized that he was open to attack and send him the Bat-Bogey Hex. Rookwood, disoriented, ran out of the room without looking at the road, but a paralyzing spell flew into his back. He fell covered in bats that bit and scratched him, but he could not move.
"Ginny, there's another one!" Cho noticed Rodolphus.
She launched a fireball at him. He extinguished it with water on the way. He threw a stun at her and a Crucio at the Weasleys. In both cases, he deliberately missed. He wanted to scare the girls so they would run away. To his dismay, they continued to fight even as his spells flew inches from their faces.
One of them managed to rip off his mask. Most likely it happened by accident, but Weasley then lost all adequacy. She crawled out of hiding to meet him, forgetting to be careful.
"I'll handle this! Help Seamus," she dropped the words to her friend.
Cho didn't object. Limping on one leg, the black-haired disappeared into a through passage right under the ceiling.
Rodolphus turned to the Weasĺey girl. Her face was contorted in disgust.
"Get it, murderer! Sectumsempra!" She held up her wand, "Confringo! Everte Statum! Glacius!"
"Looks like she's heard the rumors too," Rodolphus thought. He repelled every spell. Then again and again. She longed for vengeance. He did not doubt her intentions.
He allowed himself to hurt her slightly: a few cuts, a slight blow to her arms, a flurry of wind that she had to fight to resist. Everything possible to make her body exhausted or give up. She didn't seem to notice any of this. The hope that she would soon get tired, was melting with every second, the witch was accelerating. With each new attack, it became more difficult to restrain her pressure without harming in response.
After a hail of spells flying in his direction, Rodolphus was already thinking about throwing caution to hell and besieging her with something more powerful, so that later he could hide her unconscious body in a secluded place. Just like he did with Colin Creevey.
But suddenly Rabastan came to his aid.
He got out almost on the line of fire, pulling all the attention of the girl. As restless and fast as the redhead, he gave Rodolphus the necessary respite. Rodolphus knew he had to strike her. There are no rules in war. And they have orders to catch or kill the Weasleys. But he wanted everyone of Hermione's friends to leave alive. So that when the time comes, they will be able to oppose the cohort of Voldemort.
Rabastan created seven arrows and directed them at the Weasley. Rodolphus understood that she would not have time to deviate from the arrows. He had to stop his brother. And he did not come up with anything better, he just froze the floor under the Weasley's feet. She rolled over on the slippery ice. One arrow nevertheless stuck in her shoulder when she fall. The redhead howled in pain. She barely held the wand in her hand, intercepted it with her other hand, but it seemed she could no longer fight.
Rabastan lowered his wand. His eyes narrowed in contempt, his teeth were clenched, he rushed towards the girl. She tried to get up and slipped every time. Rodolphus hit her with the Everte Statum. The spell threw her into the air. She landed on a wood floor. The arrow protruding from her shoulder went deeper, but the girl was able to rise briskly. Rabastan sent several spells at her in a row. None hit. The girl is already gone.
"Come back bitch!" Rabastan swore, and then abruptly turned to his brother: "What are you doing? Have you forgotten how to fight?"
"Watch yourself! How many of your spells got into her?" — Rodolphus did not remain in debt.
The younger brother snorted, but quickly calmed down, "I thought it was only among our people that you could find violent ones."
"That's what I thought."
They went out into the hall.
"We must go upstairs," suggested Rabastan, looking at the stairs. "I saw the girl move along the wall and not fall.
"I don't know how," Rodolphus told him, which disappointed his brother.
The staircase was partially destroyed by his spell earlier. But they were able to climb the remnants of steps sticking out of the wall. When Rodolphus jumped over a small cliff and reached a more stable area, the house shook again. He almost lost his balance, and in order not to fall, he caught himself on a flimsy railing. Rabastan walked ahead and glanced over his shoulder. Making sure that everything was in order, he continued to climb up.
On the second floor, Rabastan disappeared in the direction from which the loudest noise was coming. Rodolphus chose the opposite side. He went to where the bright flashes of spells flickered. He approached the entrance of another impersonal room and looked inside to assess the situation.
Alecto fought Arthur and the dark-skinned young man at the same time. It might have seemed that this was almost a fair duel, but the witch was not one to miss the chance to cheat. To her dismay, her opponents saw through every trick.
Amicus grappled with Molly Weasley. She showed miracles of grace and flexibility. Carrow tried to catch the woman in error. He tried his best, he was covered in sweat. But instead of Weasley, Alecto got a couple of his spells. Again she staggered back against the wall. She snapped "Watch where you're shooting!"
Molly Weasley quickly avoided any blows. Once again, she did an incredible acrobatic somersault in the air, as if she had been involved in sports all her life. Landing firmly on both feet, woman created a lightning. She aimed at Amicus. He repeled the spell. Unfortunate, lightning struck Alecto. She fell, her body shaking in convulsions. Amicus, furious that he had hurt his sister, shouted: "Avada Kedavra!"
Mrs. Weasley's face changed. Her skin darkened, as did her red hair. She screeched. Arthur rushed across the spell to his wife, knocking her down. Both of them fell clumsily, but escaped the deadly spell.
"You piece of thestral shit!" Arthur rose to his feet, clenching his fists. He became shorter than before, and began to look younger.
Molly also changed. From a freckled short woman, she stretched out into a tall dark-skinned girl. The robe hung on her, shortened to the slender ankles She fluttered her fluffy eyelashes in horror at the death that had flown past her.
"Such a surprise! And where have you put your daddy and mommy, naughty boy?" Amicus asked. It was at this moment that he received a spell from a guy with dreadlocks on his head. His body hit the wall. The house shook again, the wall cracked.
"Great shot, Lee!"
Three ran past Rodolphus without noticing him. He followed them at some distance, and listened to their talk. Cho came out to meet them from around the corner.
"The Quaffle is in the ring! George hit the Bludger!" — panting, she told her friends. It was some kind of cipher.
They all exchanged glances.
"Time is almost up. We need to find the others," Lee said.
The four of them hurried to the end of the corridor, where the noise still came from. On the way, the red-haired guy shouted: "Hey Cho, you got it all mixed up. It should have been said: Forge hit the Bludger! He's for two of us today!"
The girl waved her hand irritably, slightly lagging behind her friends on a lame leg, - "What difference does it make if you get the point?"
They crossed the distance past the dilapidated chambers where the battle had most likely taken place before, and reached where it was going on. Antonin and Rabastan fought Neville and another red-haired guy who was completely identical to the former Arthur. Both youths moved freely along the walls and ceiling, as Cho had done before. This pissed off their opponents.
"Where's the little Weasley bitch?" asked Rabastan when he saw their company.
The twins pounced on him, ignoring the flying curses sent by Dolohov. Friends covered them.
"Watch out, George!" Lee yelled at one of the twins.
Weasley didn't even turn around, he was furious
"What did you say about Ginny? Repeat!" he shouted, to which Rabastan only broke into a smile.
"I shot this bitch with an arrow. I guess, right now she's hiding somewhere and bleeding."
At these words, the Weasleys roared, attacking him at the same time. A dark-skinned girl joined them. The three of them pressed him with the fury of their spells. Rodolphus could not bear to watch this and finally came out of hiding to join the fight.
Just in time. Because one of the Weasleys threw a small balloon with a secret at Rabastan's feet. It unfolded at his feet, turning into a small swamp. Rabastan immediately fell into it with both feet and sank into the fetid sludge. Despite this, he cast spells at his opponents. He set out to kill at least one of the Weasleys, completely surrendering to rage after their meanness.
Those sneakily evaded. But their spells also did not reach Rabastan, he began to use more protective spells, and at the same time more violent attacks. Rodolphus, meanwhile, was firing spells in response. His curse knocked out the very one of the twins who committed meanness towards his brother.
On the other side of the room, Dolohov was enjoying the duel. He alone was already beginning to push his opponents to the corner.
Rabastan has already sunk to the waist. Slowly but surely he went deeper into the swamp.
Rodolphus distracted for a second. It shook from another powerful earthquake. The house creaked, groaned as if it was crushed from all sides by an unprecedented force. The walls were covered with cracks. Sand or earth fell from them, seeping through the cracks from somewhere. Everyone froze for a moment. With that push, Rabastan plummeted chest-deep into swamp slush. Rodolphus grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out.
"Time is over!" - Cho reappeared at the door and shouted, - "Let's take the Snitches!"
"Where's Ginny? Did you find her?" shouted George, dragging his brother on him.
"At the bottom! I'll take her myself!" - for a lame she moved very quickly in leaps and bounds, leaning on her healthy leg.
The youth took to their heels. Dolohov growled, dissatisfied with the results of the fight. So he chased after them again.
Rodolphus grabbed his brother's arm tightly. He knew that if he let go, he would lose his brother forever.
"Damn Weasley stuff!" Rabastan gritted through his teeth.
The harder Rodolphus pulled, the deeper Rabastan got stuck. The wizard went over in his mind spells that could help. A powerful impulse was needed. Sharp jerk. Then he can draw out Rabastan.
"Depulso!" he didn't expect much effect from this spell. Fortunately, it helped them both to push off. Rabastan flew out of the quagmire and fell to the floor. Rodolphus was there.
"How are you?" asked Rodolphus.
"It's okay," younger brother waved his hand appatiously, lying face down on the floor. Both were breathing heavily, after an unequal struggle. - "Go, I'll catch up."
Rodolphus hoped that he was not leaving him alone in vain. He hurried off in pursuit. Of course, he wanted to help Hermione's friends, but not at the cost of the life of his brother, whom he had just barely pulled out of a death trap. He wanted to catch up with the Weasley twins. Teach them a lesson. And if not to kill, then at least a little to straighten their brains.
Instead, he heard voices in one of the rooms: "I can't find Colin!" He recognized Ginny Weasley's voice. She didn't worry for nothing, Creevy won't get out on his own.
"Let's go, we have to find him," the second voice answered her, it was Cho.
Rodolphus knew Creevy needed help. After all, the Quaffle was in the ring and the Bludger had been hitted — he guessed it was too dangerous to stay any longer.
Following the girls, he realized that they were heading in the wrong direction. He could not approach them and tell them where he had hidden their friend, even if he wanted to. It only remained to drive them with spells. The first - crashed into the wall at the level of faces. The girls ducked and ran in the opposite direction. They somehow fought back, but did not particularly bother to hit him right away. Weasley was not very good with her left hand. Cho limped and focused more on how to ride the required distance with greater speed. Rodolphus drove them straight to the very room where Colin Creevy lay. In the end, when the girls were forced to run inside, he allegedly accidentally kicked the door to the back room. Ginny was sure he was after them to kill. She realized that she was driven into a dead end and the only way out was blocked by the enemy. She turned to face him. She tightened her grip on the wand with her left hand, preparing to fight back to death.
"Ginny, he is here! Colin is here!" Cho rejoiced.
Rodolphus stood in the doorway. He looked at the unconscious Creevy. The boy was covered in blood and looked like he was dying, but if you erase the traces, there were no more wounds on him. Cho almost forcibly dragged her stubborn friend into the back room. A golden snitch flickered in her hand — an unregistered portkey, he realized a moment later. Together with friends redhead disappeared into the portal, incinerating Rodolphus with a look.
The rest of the Death Eaters were in the kitchen.
Rowley was still knocked out, but Crabbe dragged him in. Rookwood's robes were almost in tatters and he was holding his head, apparently the Bat-Bogey hex had patted him hard. Amicus lay motionless in front of the pale, hushed Alecto. As Rodolphus looked at them he realized that man was not breathing. Dolohov stood in the center deep in thought.
"Where are Draco and Yaxley?" asked Rodolphus.
"They remained outside," Rabastan said, "I carried them out after explosion." Rabastan sat stone-faced at the table, having dried his robes somehow. He smelled of swamp mud, but he did not pay any attention to it. He looked at his wand as if it had done something to him.
"Then they'll tell everyone where to look for us," said Crabbe, who had apparently been excluded from the battle sometime in the beginning. Rodolphus never met him during the fight.
"Maybe not," Dolohov intervened. "We were lured here for a reason. It's not over yet.
"What's the matter?" Rodolphus asked, and Dolohov confirmed his worst fears: "Look out the window, look at the cracks in the walls. We are underground. The walls will not last long, we will be covered with earth soon." And as if in confirmation of his words, new cracks ran along the walls. The earth crumbled inside. It seemed that the walls were about to burst from external pressure. "They buried us alive."
Alecto gasped at these words. Antonin waved his wand in the air, observing for something visible to him alone: "Don't be afraid, Alecto, we'll get out. We got out of Azkaban too."
"Not on your own," she objected, "we pulled you out of there, and before that we prepared for months."
Dolohov ignored her this time.
Rodolphus approached Crabbe, who breathed a sigh of relief when he felt that his wounds were disappearing without a trace. Whatever the threat, Rodolphus had to do what he lived for. Help those in need of his help. In addition, it was a good distraction from the gloomy prospects.
"Thank you, Rodolphus," said Crabbe.
After him, Rodolphus busied himself with bringing Rowley to his senses, who hissed and sat down. Frostbite of his hands and legs was worse. Rowley needed potions, Rodolphus could only ease some of the symptoms, but Rowley needed more specific help.
"If we get out, you'll go to the hospital," he advised, Thorfinn only nodded.
The Carrows were next.
"What about Amicus?" he asked Alecto.
She looked at her brother and whispered "The wall has collapsed. When I found him-" her voice broke "it was too late."
Rodolphus realized that Carrow had received a blow to the head, right in the crown of the head, and died almost instantly and without unnecessary torment. A more gentle death than being buried alive in the ground.
Hermione may not find out about the fate that befell Rodolphus. And there will be no one to tell her.
Rabastan abruptly got up from his chair, put his wand in his pocket and headed for the exit, giving his brother a sign that he was waiting for him. Rodolphus followed him.
"Don't go far," Dolohov warned, "I won't look for you."
None of them bothered to answer.
They entered the room where they fought with Ginny Weasley. Rabastan stopped in the middle and drowned out the room with Muffliato. Rodolphus realized that his brother was in a bad mood.
"Why didn't you fight at full strength?" whispered Rabastan, looking from under his brows.
"Where did you get that..."
"You let the Weasleys slip away when I defeated her. I thought it was an accident, but then... then you stood in shadow upstairs and watched us fight, you didn't immediately raise your wand. Only when I got into a swamp. Do you think I didn't notice?" Rabastan was very angry.
Rodolphus did not have a ready answer, he did not expect Rabastan to be so attentive, being in the thick of things. Rodolphus was careless, so much so that he did not think about the possible consequences. Rabastan noticed everything and wanted to know the reason.
"I don't know. I think you were right, I got drunk today. I had a very long and difficult time." - It was technically true, but his excuse sounded pathetic. Rodolphus tried to translate the conversation: "I thought you liked dueling."
"I don't," Rabastan said, shrugging it off. "Also, I don't like secrets. What's wrong with you? Speak!" the younger Lestrange raised his wand.
"I don't understand what you mean," he didn't even move to take out his wand. Rabastan could threaten him as much as he wanted, Rodolphus knew that he would be prudent and not harm his own brother. But Rodolphus was wary, but he was going to deny everything to the end.
"There are rumors," Rabastan began, Rodolphus mentally raised his eyes to the sky, he felt like a man who was gossiped about at every step, "that a witch lives in your house. And it's not your missus."
There was a long pause, during which Rodolphus tried to control his emotions. No one was supposed to know about Hermione. If Bellatrix found out about her, then they would both have been killed already, and besides her, no one could get into his house without permission. Because he closed the entrance to every guest except his legal wife. He just couldn't.
"Who is spreading such rumors?" he glared at his brother, alarmed at his awareness.
"Portraits," Rabastan did not evade, answering directly. "They saw her. And they asked me who she is and why she lives in your house. Like I know something about it."
Rodolphus let out an exasperated sigh. Portraits of his ancestors spied on him and passed information to his brother. It's good that it's not a stranger, but in itself it was unpleasant. He will have to reconsider their position in the interior, maybe even remove them to some dark corner where they will not be able to peep and eavesdrop.
"Portraits talk a lot. What else did they tell you?"
Rabastan's lips broke into a sad smile, "so you won't deny it."
"Put down your wand, please," Rodolphus replied calmly, although he was already pretty angry. "Or are you going to use a spell on me?"
Rabastan lowered his wand. "Sorry, sometimes I don't know who to trust," he said. It is not known what exactly he thought in his head. Rodolphus, too, began to doubt who he could trust. If Rabastan finds out, will he keep the secret? Or will he betray?
"What did the portraits tell you?" he repeated his question.
"Only that she lives in the house and she is weird."
Weird. The word could mean anything. Dressed like a Muggle, haggard, always alert, anxious, quiet, clinging to a beaded handbag with tense, thin fingers — she definitely did not fit into what seemed normal to portraits. Yes, Hermione was weird.
"Who is she? What binds you two?" Rabastan looked doubtfully into his brother's eyes.
"No one," he lied, hoping he sounded convincing. "Nothing binds us."
"I do not understand. Because of her, you closed the entrance for me. I wanted to visit you and I couldn't. She lives in your house. And now you say that you have nothing with her," he was upset.
Rodolphus thought that since people were gossiping about him anyway, then he could turn it to his advantage. He let one gossip cover up another: "Do you know what happened to my vault at Gringotts?"
"Heard from Trixie. More precisely, she complained to me about your stinginess," his tired voice told more then words. Bella must have annoyed Rabastan with her complaints.
"With her help, my vault is cursed. The Dark Lord wanted the magic of the Vault not to lie idle, as he put it. Nobody asked my opinion, you know? It didn't suit me. That's why I wanted to keep everything a secret from the Dark Lord and Bella," he waited for what reaction such a confession would cause.
"You know you can count on me, don't you?" Rabastan finally said, although of course he noticed that Rodolphus was still avoiding a direct answer.
Rodolphus breathed a sigh of relief, he really began to tense up from the realization that this whole situation separates him from the only relative he had. He wanted to believe Rabastan.
"Of course. I know, but you have a lot to do", there probably couldn't have been a better time to discuss an important issue before they were interrupted or overheard, "you're hunting Nymphadora Tonks."
"Yes. With any luck, she'll fall for my trick soon. Draco volunteered to help me. I think the two of us can do it faster." Draco's interest in this matter might complicate things, but if Rabastan understood how important it was, he could keep the young man from making irreparable mistakes.
"Basti, listen to me, please. I want to ask you something."
"Anything for you...almost," he added at the end, his face taking on a familiar mischievous expression.
Rodolphus made up his mind, he must ask. If Rabastan claimed to be trustworthy, then he had to show it with deeds.
"Look for her, but don't find her. Extend the search as long as you can."
"What?" Rabastan was taken aback, - "Is she the one you sheltered?"
Rodolphus did not expect such conclusions from his brother. Although this could be assumed, given what they had talked about before. Denial will either confirm Rabastan's guesses, or Rodolphus will have to tell more, which was risky in itself. When it came to Rabastan, there was no telling how quickly he would figure out that his brother was lying. He had known his brother all his life and could sense when he was lying in order to then try to get to the bottom of the truth. This feature was immensely annoying, even though Rodolphus continued to love his brother. In this situation, it was more correct not to focus on sensitive topics.
"So will you do it for me?"
Rabastan visibly relaxed, it seems he did not suspect anything. "Good. But the Dark Lord will be furious..."
"I won't even argue with that," Rodolphus smiled and shrugged.
Rabastan bombarded him with questions: "How long to stretch the search? Until she gives birth? Did you by any chance adopt a werewolf?"
"I don't have any werewolves," Rodolphus replied evasively.
"You place too much emphasis on family ties. She is not of our blood. Or is it something else... I understand that a metamorphmagus can take on any appearance... Is the child definitely from a werewolf Lupin?" Rabastan glanced at his brother appraisingly looking him from head to toe and back.
"Don't fantasize nonsense," Rodolphus sternly warned him not to develop this thought.
"Won't that turn out to be true then?"
"Rabastan," he protested, already losing his patience.
Rabastan sighed wearily, "Fine. But will you tell me anything?"
"Am I really going to get away from you somewhere?" Rodolphus grumbled.
"I' not sure... what if you run away with a metamorphomage to the end of the world."
This thought did not occur to Rodolphus. Just run away... what if it suddenly comes to this...
"Then will you come with me?"
"In your dreams," Rabastan said sarcastically, heading for the exit. "Let's get out of this burial ground first. I'm getting bored. Then we'll see."
Rodolphus agreed with this, no matter how old they were both, he still wanted to patronize his younger brother. Rabastan was too independent since childhood, he had his own opinion on everything, sometimes he was not rational — it was he who had every chance to get stuck in a dubious story. There was a time when Rodolphus seriously feared this.
Fate had a sense of humor.
Rodolphus himself got himself into a dubious story.
And Rabastan knew too much about it to avoid the same fate.
When they returned to the kitchen. Dolohov was still studying the charms used against them, talking to Rookwood from time to time. The others all just watched him. Only Alecto held her brother's hand.
"Yes, you are right, Augustus," said Antonin, answering some remark. "Our adversaries failed to take into account that the anti-apparation enchantment is not only a limitation, but also a loophole. Even though I can't create a portkey, they took care of that too. But I have an idea how to move the barrier to the point we need."
"I'm curious which one of them is so resourceful," said Rookwood.
"The Weasley twins," Alecto guessed, "the school is still smuggling in contraband from underground. I bet, they made it up."
Rookwood smiled at her answer "I am intrigued by their capabilities."
"What do you mean, Augustus?" Rabastan asked aggressively. "Do you think this is a game?"
"Of course this is a game. Admit that - it is much more interesting to confront a cunning opponent than a gang from the noble Order of the Phoenix... both powerful and indecisive. Has any member of the Order ever tried to kill you?"
"What do you think? Of course they tried."
"So you're in luck," Rookwood sighed in disappointment. "All I saw was how Dumbledore manipulated his people. But they were too kind. Too noble. They trusted in the law. They relied in the Ministry of Magic. They believed in the power of the Aurors. And what? Most of them are now dead."
"Did someone finally fire a deadly curse at you?" Rabastan quipped.
"Not yet. I don't think any of them are ready to commit direct murder yet. But they rightly decided that the enemy should be destroyed. And so, they came up with a wonderful plan. They lured us here and buried us. If Antonin can't handle it, we will stay here. Then we will all inevitably perish. Is this not an attempt of killing?
"Antonin can handle it," Dolohov chuckled, "he's almost done it already."
Rookwood smiled, "So we will meet with them again. Then we'll see who outsmarts whom."
"Wasn't that the Order of the Phoenix?" asked Rodolphus, clearly missing something.
"No," Alecto replied. "They call themselves Dumbledore's Army. They still shit a lot at Hogwarts. And now they climbed out to wage war with us. Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan have already dropped out of school for this."
It took Dolohov time to move the apparation barrier. In the end, he created a patch of space for them to leave this place.
"Go in order. No more than two, but preferably one at a time. There is a trigger spell attached to the barrier, I don't know what it is. Maybe just a signal. Or maybe something extravagant. I'll have to hold the spell until the end so it doesn't work."
"We need to pick up Draco and Yaxley," Rabastan remembered his comrades-in-arms.
"I'll take care of it, and you help Alecto with Amicus' body," said Rodolphus. He made sure that the wand was securely tucked into his pocket so as not to drop it during an unstable apparation.
Alecto left first. After her, Rabastan with the body of Amicus. Then went Rowley, supported by Crabbe. Rookwood. Then it was Rodolphus' turn. Antonin was supposed to be the last, he waved him a farewell gesture.
Rodolphus apparated into the courtyard in front of the mansion. There was an empty space where the house had been earlier. The bodies of Yaxley and Draco were not here. They must have come to their senses and gone back. Or, in the process of burying the mansion, they were pulled into the ground. Then they probably already died. Rodolphus walked around in the hope of finding at least some traces in support of one of his guesses.
He felt too late the fact that a spell was flying in his direction. The attacker used non-verbal magic.
Rodolphus felt a blow to his back. As if something heavy had been applied to him, he fell and arched in pain. It was the strongest Crucio he had ever experienced. As he was suddenly released, he felt a new pain from the next unknown curse. Rodolphus rolled away. Another spell bit into the ground where he lay a moment ago. He tried to muster the strength to remove his wand, but his fingers couldn't budge. Belatedly, he realized that he was bleeding, losing blood too quickly for a typical wound. His head was spinning. His sight was rippling with flashes and blurred.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Rodolphus asked his enemy.
Crucio flew into him again. Rodolphus screamed in pain. Feeling his strength leaving him along with his blood. He felt a weakness. He felt agony. The enemy never showed his face. He was only a few steps away, obsequiously hidden by the darkness. His hand went up. A green light gathered at the end of his wand. Rodolphus realized that he had only one chance to escape.
He apparated, praying he wouldn't split appart.
Once at the very gates of his house, he somehow caught his breath. Then, with a great effort, he got up and walked towards the house on unsteady legs. He did not remember how he walked the distance from the gate to the door. How he managed to get inside. He found himself unable to take a single step. Then he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Somewhere nearby he heard hurried footsteps, then a voice called him - both demanding and pleading. He tried to make out her speech, but the words came to him fragmentarily, breaking through some kind of barrier.
Through the rolling darkness, he saw Hermione leaning over him. Her face blurred. It turned into a spot of light and swayed over him like a beacon. He felt her cool palms on his face and neck. He would like to dissolve into these gentle touches, but it passed. In just a couple of moments, he no longer felt his own body. The functions that were not critical for survival were switched off. Feelings of warmth, volume and space, smells and sounds and so on - all this was no longer available. Perception dulled.
"Give the wand to Hermione," was the last clear thought in his mind. With a weakening, numb hand, he fumbled for something in his pocket. With the last of his strength, he handed it to the witch. Then, with a clear conscience, he fell into the void.
Hermione sat on the floor in front of him, holding a chocolate frog in her hand. Tears flowed from her wide eyes.
Do you want to read Hermione's pov in the next chapter and find out what's going on in her head?
Please, tell me.