Antonin strode into the party, forcing himself to walk with a slow, relaxed gate and keeping his face clear of all expression. Internally, he was wound so tightly that he was half worried that he would avada one of the confounded waiters that the Malfoys always hired, who seemed to pop up at your elbow at the most unexpected of moments. However, as it wouldn't do to give the game away just yet, Antonin forced himself to unclench his hand from the wand in his pocket, and instead wave in greeting as Goyle caught his eye from across the room. As of yet, his defection had not been discovered. Rather, his fellows had assumed that he was up at the hunting cabin beating some sense into his wayward wife.
The Order had been quite reluctant to allow him to come on this mission at all, but finally caved to the irrefutable fact that they were in no position to be picky. They still had no idea who the traitor in their midst was, which turned out to be a benefit to Antonin. As Bill Weasley put it, "I don't trust you as far as I can kick you, but I don't trust anyone else at the moment either".
Antonin looked around the room, peering past the glittering ice sculptures to try and catch a glimpse of the rest of the team. They had calculated that only four people would be needed to sow chaos at the party, so the real Snape and Andromeda had snuck in with the invisibility cloak and were working on quietly bringing some of the manor's wards down from the inside. With the information Antonin had been able to provide, they were hopeful that they would be able to clear the way to bring in the rest of their fighting force.
Antonin had begun to worry that the others had been apprehended, when what appeared to be Bellatrix flashed him a v for victory, the pre-approved hand signal, as she passed him. At least Tonks had made it into the party unscathed. Moments later, Sirius, disguised as Travers, could be seen discreetly emptying a flagon into a gleaming silver punchbowl. Antonin turned to take a glass of untainted punch off of one of the blasted waiters' trays and found himself face to face with Remus who, against his strident objections, was disguised as Snape. "Snape" took a glass as well and shot Antonin a roguish wink that looked quite out of place on the professor's severe countenance.
"To our victory," he said grimly, tilting his glass toward Antonin's.
Antonin wordlessly clinked his own glass against Remus's and downed it in one. Without a backwards glance, they moved away from each other and into the party. Antonin's blood red dress robes swirled around him as he moved through the crowd, and he pushed aside the thought of the way that Hermione had smiled earlier that afternoon upon seeing him dressed in her house color.
Phase one of his wife's plan had worked, but the spring inside Antonin didn't uncoil even a little. This part had been easy, but Hermione was still off battling Merlin only knew how many inferi and there was the small matter of killing the Dark Lord to be dealt with. It was time to get to work: he had to catch Yaxley and get the party started. This was the part of the plan he was most nervous about.
Antonin felt totally comfortable blasting through ranks of enemies on the battlefield, but he didn't have a good head for social politics. His usual modus operandi was to say as little as possible and, if he really couldn't avoid an interpersonal conflict, to solve it through brute force and intimidation. Narcissa, he reflected wryly, would have been a far better fit for this role if she weren't already halfway around the world.
Stifling a groan, Antonin made a beeline for Yaxley, deftly dodging Rabastan's attempts to hail him, and clapped the older man's hand in a firm handshake.
"How are you this evening, Yaxley?" He asked, attempting to sound jovial rather than menacing.
Apparently he had missed the mark a bit with his tone of voice, as Yaxley's eyebrows drew together in a look of suspicion.
"I'm well, Antonin, thank you," he answered guardedly. Deciding not to delay any longer, Antonin slid his hand into the pocket of his robes and rotated his body so that he was shielding Yaxley from the crowd.
"Confundus", he breathed, hoping that the twinkling fairy lights would be blamed for the flash of light the spell produced. He put a hand to Yaxley's shoulder as the older man stumbled sideways, eyes sliding out of focus.
"Too much of the good stuff already, da Yax?" He boomed in case anyone was watching. He drew closer to the silver-haired wizard and hissed to him, "It would be a good idea if you were to make Lestrange know about your conversations with Malfoy,"
"My conversation ... with ... Malfoy", Lestrange spoke haltingly. Antonin cursed, concerned that he had overdone the spell.
"Yes", he growled impatiently, "The one where he contract you to kill him,"
Yaxley nodded blearily, "Ah yes, I suppose I should let him know. Only fair, really."
"Only fair," Antonin repeated bracingly, "Oh look you have luck. There he is over there," and with a forceful shove he propelled Yaxley to where Rabastan stood off to the side, berating one of the house elves. Confundus charms wore off quickly, so there was no time to waste. Yaxley only stumbled a bit as he made his way over, which was hopefully a sign that he was sufficiently recovered to hold a conversation.
Antonin watched him approach Rabastan for a moment before tearing his eyes away. He strode across the sea of party guests, listening for any raised voices in the murmur of well-mannered conversation. As he listened, he began to hear small arguments breaking out. Wives were chiding their husbands for looking too long at another guest's décolletage, friends were snapping at one another, and Lucius aimed a kick at a waiter as he scurried past him. The bellicose brew was definitely beginning to take effect.
The fake Travers was on the other side of the room deep in conversation with Melissa Crabbe, whose expression was growing more and more thunderous by the second. Antonin took that to mean that her daughter had not previously mentioned her muggle boyfriend. Meanwhile, Goyle was stomping around in search of Crabbe, who had privately been blaming him for bungling an assignment they had failed to execute. Antonin, smirking, spotted Alecto Carrow sitting alone in a chair, looking petulant. She was wearing an elaborately ruffled brown dress robe and a ridiculous quantity of makeup, which did nothing to beautify the scowl on her broad face.
"Might I have the pleasure of this dance?" Antonin asked, extending his arm politely to her.
Alecto shrugged ill-temperdly and joined him in a rather ungraceful waltz. As he dragged the lumbering woman around the dance floor, Antonin attempted to make some light conversation, all of which received terse responses. He wasn't sure if she was angry at him about his wife's betrayal or if she had simply ingested too much bellicose brew. Over her shoulder, he caught sight of "Snape" deep in conversation with Marietta Edgecome, who looked ready to murder. He supposed she hadn't known that Astoria was seeing other witches on the side.
Throwing the subtle approach to the wayside, he tried the direct tactic to get Alecto's attention.
"Look Alecto," he began, "I always consider us friends,"
Alecto raised an eyebrow. He knew that he was stretching the truth to the breaking point, as the extent of their friendship was a cold, damp and miserable month spent hunting the Golden Trio in the forests to the north of England, during which the mostly bickered at each other. He tried to re-calibrate,
"Well anyway, I have respect for you. Too much respect to sit by while Yaxley talks badly of your family,"
He felt her entire body tense in his arms, and sensed that he had hit the mark.
"What?" she shrieked, "What's that foul little cockroach been saying?"
Antonin hadn't actually thought that far ahead, so he tried to stall. "Well, he is at Rabastan's the other night and saying some things. Truly low. I tell him to stuff it and he did, but I'm thinking now that he may be saying those lies to others," he prevaricated.
"What's he been saying?" Alecto demanded again, her volume rising. People were starting to stare. Antonin hoped that the others took that as a sign that it was time to make themselves scarce.
"I don't like to say," Antonin tried again, mind spinning wildly to invent something, anything. Out of the corner of his eye, Antonin saw what he assumed to be fake Bellatrix slipping through the crowd away from Rowle, who was clearly trying and failing to contain his rage. With the Bellicose Brew in his system, Antonin had no doubt that this last jab about his sister would be his undoing. Rowle was under direct orders from the Dark Lord not to harm Bellatrix, but after all there's only so much a brother can take.
His attention was drawn back to his enrage dance partner when Alecto gave up all pretense of waltzing and clutched both of his arms, a mad gleam in her dark eyes. "Tell me now!" She shreiked, her voice rising a full octave.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. Antonin lowered his voice conspiratorially, drawing her closer. "He's been saying," he growled, drawing himself up in false indignation, "That you and Amycus are his children, that your mother is unfaithful all her life. Garbage, of course" He added hastily, seeing a murderous gleam in Alecto's eyes, "I naturally tell him he was talking out his arse and disparaging a good woman," (This again, couldn't have been further from the truth. Between Bellatrix and Amyranth Carrow, Antonin would have been hard pressed to say who he despised more.)
However, his words did the trick. Alecto shoved him aside, drawing her wand and roaring "YAXLEY!" At almost exactly the same moment, Rabastan, never one to fight fair, fired fired a jet of green flames at Lucius's back. In that split second, a woman who Antonin didn't know unwittingly stepped into the spell's path, and a moment later she was rolling on the ground shrieking as she was consumed by green flames.
Lucius also whirled around to face Rabastan, and fired a spell back as Thicknesse, the woman's partner, attempted to extinguish her. As soon as the flames died out, Thicknesse too turned on Rabastan. Rodolphus shoved a petite redhaired witch aside as he tried to reach his brother, who was now battling two foes. The redhead whirled around and threw a stinging hex back at Rodolphus. He attempted to aim a bombarda at her, still anxious to get back to his brother, but she was saved by a shield charm thrown by another redheaded witch who could only be her sister. The spell rebounded on another unsuspecting partygoer, and at that point the entire room dissolved into chaos. Antonin ducked just in time to avoid a nasty slicing hex from who-knew-where and decided that it would be best to wait this one out from somewhere sensible. He scrambled for safety and dived under an expensive-looking white table cloth, only to find that "Travers" and "Bellatrix" had already taken cover there.
"Good party," Sirius grunted, as he stuffed Travers's mouth full of a tray of hors d'ouvres that he had somehow managed to rescue from the carnage.
Antonin rolled his eyes at him, "I think we can get out now- is madhouse," he stated as one end of the tablecloth turned to dust and fell to the floor.
Sirius cast a regretful eye at the plate of pumpkin puffs, but didn't argue. Tonks cast disillusionment charms on them and they slid out the side of the table nearest the wall, dodging misplaced spells as they crept towards the great double doors. The room was in chaos, witches and wizards in various states of disarray flinging hexes and curses with abandon. Several had abandoned wands entirely and were muggle dueling on the floor. Antonin had to stop short in order to avoid being hit by a chair which Millicent Bulstrode was swinging at her erstwhile girlfriend, screaming "You unfaithful bitch!". As they watched, Astoria's mother launched herself on Millicent's back, slamming the pockmarked attacker into her daughter. They all went down in a tangle of hair, fists and splintered chair legs.
Tearing his eyes from the spectacle and fighting the unexpected urge to laugh, Antonin crouched low and continued to creep to the door. They had almost made it out when their path was blocked by a tangle of limbs that was made up of Yaxley and Amycus Carrow. Alecto was lying unmoving on the floor next to them, so Yaxley had at least won the first fight. He slammed the other brother's head against the floor and Antonin decided not to see what happened next. He and Sirius risked leaving the safety of he wall to skirt the duel, sprinting the last few feet to the door. As they slipped through, he looked back to see the dissilusioned blob that he knew to be Tonks take a flying leap over the two duelers. Surprisingly she landed on her feet, but then proceeded to barrel through the doorway at such a clip that she slammed Antonin and Sirius into the false Snape, who was making his own exit.
They all stumbled through the doorway, landing Tonks and Sirius on their arses, and Remus turned and waved his wand to block the doors behind them. Surprisingly, none of the other partygoers had fled into the hallway. If there was one good thing Antonin could say about his former brethren, it was that none of them backed down from a good duel.
"That was fun," Remus chirped, again a stark contrast to the man whose body he was borrowing. Antonin waved his wand to cancel the disillusionment charms, noticing as he did so that Sirius's polyjuice was beginning to wear thin. Remus meanwhile rolled up the sleeves on his bat-like robes and gathered Snape's long, silver-streaked hair up into a surprisingly flattering bun, which earned him a giggle from his wife and best friend.
"Ah for a camera," sighed Sirius dramatically.
Without further ado, Remus settled an anti-apparition ward on the whole room and sealed all the exits. The smile faded from Snape's sallow face, and Bellatrix's back straightened as their minds turned as one to the next step: killing the Dark Lord.