A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-seven and be on the lookout for chapter forty-eight soon!
May 1970
While Beltane was not the most significant of the pureblood traditional holidays, Rodolphus knew that the Death Eaters would celebrate to its fullest anyway. The party was going to be held at the country manor home of the Rosiers, leaving Evan Rosier to organize the massive bonfires that would burn through the night while they celebrants ate and drank to their heart's content, each taking their turn at wooing the May Queen.
Somehow, it had been left to Abraxas Malfoy to procure the May Queen this year. It was certainly not an envious honor, the young girl spending most of the evening tied to the maypole, sweating from the heat of the flames, only to be let down when she selected her partner for the evening. There was a reason why none of the assembled men would offer up their daughters or sisters for the role.
Still, Rodolphus could appreciate some aspects of the May Queen ritual when he watched Hermione dress in the gauzy robes, shimmering with gold, the outline of her body sure to be seen. He leaned back against the headboard in their shared accommodation, wishing that he might keep her for his eyes only, but then, Hermione had never been able to sit behind out of the action, even now that she had Daisy to worry about. She would angrily insist that it was because of Daisy that it was all the more important for her to participate.
With her vinewood wand artfully tucked in her bouquet of hawthorne and primrose, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time before determining that she was ready. Giving him a nod, she led the way out of their bedroom.
Molly Weasley was waiting there with Daisy on her lap. "Is that really what they are making you wear?" she asked, not bothering to hide her disgust. "Godric, now I know why mother and father never kept to the old ways. I'll have to ask Arthur what his family did."
"It leaves much to be desired," Hermione agreed, before picking up the baby and pressing a half dozen kisses to her chubby cheeks, while she cooed and smiled. "I don't think the Weasleys participate...or at least, I didn't see any evidence while I lived with them."
"Cedrella must have," Molly said, a bit uncharitably, still in a fued with her mother-in-law. "She was a Black after all."
"Her father never would have allowed her to participate in something like this," Rodolphus said, only to be on the receiving end of Molly's famous glares. It was clear that she never quite forgave him for what had transpired between him and Hermione, even if Hermione was able to move on from it. "Well, we need to be going."
Hermione reluctantly handed Daisy back to Molly, who would be watching the baby while they were at the ritual. "If anything happens...you'll keep her safe?" she asked.
Molly nodded. "Of course, Hermione. I'll protect her like she was my own," she promised. "But nothing is going to happen, because Gid and Fabian and Moody will be ready to step in at a moment's notice."
It was going to be dangerous, that was certain, but they all knew their plan was too far along to back out of now.
Each taking a handful of floo powder, Hermione and Rodolphus stepped into the fireplace and out to Malfoy Manor, where Abraxas was waiting for them, looking far too chipper. Catching Hermione as she stumbled out, he pressed his hands on her bare arms, grinning down at her.
"So this is the delightful Miss Granger," Abraxas said with a lascivious look. Raising his eyebrow at Rodolphus, he clearly communicated his approval of her looks. "I can see why you were so taken with the witch," he added, his hand dropping to touch the top of her bum.
Hermione wrenched herself free of his grasp, not hesitating to send a stinging jinx his way. "I'll have you keep your hands off of me," she insisted, more than taking care of herself.
"Oh, ho," Abraxas grinning, clapping Rodolphus on the shoulder. "And so feisty as well. You better get used to it, Miss Granger. A squeeze of your arse will be the least of your worries when you are on the maypole."
Rodolphus didn't like the idea of everyone touching her, but he knew that everyone wouldn't be too grabby with her so early in the night. That would come after they'd gotten drunk on homemade black mead.
"I'll go first," Rodolphus offered, not wanting Hermione to be alone with Death Eaters for any moment of time, even if he would be following right behind. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he wished Hermione good luck before heading to Rosier's.
There was a house elf waiting for him with offered hand. He'd barely had time to brush his robes clean before the little thing was transporting him out to the field where they'd be celebrating. A massive table stood at one end of the clearing, overflowing with food and horns for drinking. At the other end, some of the assembled wizards were trying to light the two large piles of wood for the bonfire, using only sticks and some friction to create the spark. Of course, it would be easiest to use magic, but that wasn't the old way.
Looking around, he saw his father, but he didn't see any sign of the Dark Lord, yet. He wouldn't arrive until the moment that the sun was about to set behind the hills, just as the party was about to begin. The only other woman that was there was Bellatrix, her hand held tightly by the severe looking Augustus Rookwood.
It seemed like an eternity, but it was actually only minutes later when Abraxas showed up, Hermione in tow, her hair now glamoured blonde. "Everyone calm down, I've brought our May Maiden," he said, wanting attention on him. Abraxas needed to be needed, loving the influence that providing gave him. "Look at this pretty little witch I found vacationing in Monaco. Gentlemen, I present Miss Germain."
Hermione didn't fuss when Abraxas took his time tying her to the maypole with colorful ribbons, even when he was a little too handsy. She looked demure even when the men looked her up and down, commenting on her body as though she weren't even there. Finally, Abraxas pressed the flower crown on her head. "The May Queen," he said proudly. "Now where is the damned mead? I need a drink after all that work."
The rest of the Death Eaters grumbled that Abraxas wouldn't be helping them with the fires, but pointed him in the direction of the mead. Rodolphus joined in helping to start the fires, needing something to distract him. He heard the sudden whoosh when the other bonfire finally caught and redoubled his efforts.
The Dark Lord arrived just as the second bonfire was lit. Bellatrix immediately rushed to his side to welcome him, despite it being her Uncle's job as host. She always needed to be the first to speak with the dark wizard, somehow hoping that he would change his mind about her eventually, and take her as his mistress. She pressed a horn of black mead into his hand, fussing over his robes and loudly complaining about how dusty the fireplace had been.
Augustus didn't take too kindly to the way his wife was fawning over the other man and grabbed her roughly, pulling her to his side.
"Let me see the May Queen," the Dark Lord asked, motioning to Abraxas to lead the way.
Rodolphus could feel his heart pounding away in his chest as they approached, Bellatrix and Augustus hot on their heels.
"Miss Germain, my Lord," Abraxas said, with a flourish and a half bow. "She's yours if you desire, but I'm afraid she doesn't speak much English."
Hermione smiled, looking at the man serenely, as though she didn't understand what was being said, a pretty, stupid little thing.
Bellatrix gasped when her eyes finally settled on the May Queen, easily seeing who it was, in utter disbelief. "My Lord, I must tell you something about the May Queen," she urged, grabbing onto his sleeve. Voldemort recoiled, but she was not to be stopped. "She's Her-"
Before she could complete her sentence, Rookwood was pulling her back, sending a silencing charm to his wife. Now muted, Bellatrix wasn't able to spoil Hermione's identity. "Silence, woman!" he roared, obviously on his last nerve with his wife. "The Dark Lord doesn't want you, and you will only embarrass yourself by constantly being jealous."
Unable to speak, Bellatrix was left to smolder in fury, her eyes finding Rodolphus's easily. He gave her a little smile as he watched Rookwood pull her towards the table, as far away from the Dark Lord's spot of honor as possible.
"Let's begin," Rosier said, eager to break the tension that his niece had caused, guiding the Dark Lord towards the table. Taking the horn of undrunk mead from the Dark Lord's hand, he went off in search of a new, fresher drink.
Rodolphus found a seat next to his father, trying to maintain his composure. "There is something about the May Queen that seems familiar to me," his father said to him, eyes flicking to the girl stood between the bonfires once again. "I wonder if she was at one of Abraxas's parties before. Maybe last Yule."
Glad that she hadn't been recognized by his father, he couldn't hide the disgust at what Edmond had said. "Please father, I'd rather not hear about your shared conquests with Abraxas Malfoy," he sneered. Despite his father's efforts, their relationship remained chilly, even with his son joining the brotherhood of Death Eaters.
The Dark Lord stood, holding his horn in hand, giving a short but compelling speech about the noble work that had been started by Salazar Slytherin, and that he intended to complete. There was no hiding that he was an excellent orator, keeping many of the crazed Death Eaters on the edge of their seats, but Rodolphus now knew that the content of his message was recycled, the same speech given time and again.
"So, please, raise your glasses with me," he said, signaling the end. "Let this be the year that we take back the Wizarding World!"
Rodolphus watched with bated breath as Voldemort brought the horn to his lips, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed the thick, black liquid until there was none left in his horn. Voldemort looked down the table, triumph reflected in his cold, dark eyes, before his face fell, suddenly realizing that something was wrong.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the noise couldn't be heard over the rowdy cheers of the Death Eaters. Instead, he stood, framed by the bonfires, flames licking up into the dusky sky, dying, without anyone realizing, until he fell to his knees. Grabbing at his throat, he choked and coughed, his eyes rolling back into his head until you could only see white. Then, he fell over to the side, dead.
Various people got up to try and help, until others began to cough as well, their bodies taken by the same poison. Nott, Cygnus Black, Rookwood, even his own father slumped dead in their seats. By the time it was over, a dozen death eaters lay dead.
Bellatrix lay crying over the body of the Dark Lord, her cries no longer silenced now that her husband was dead, inconsolable. Abraxas was making a big show of admonishing Rosier, despite being told to keep a low profile. "How could you let this happen? Someone's poisoned him!" he shouted at the other man, giving him a good shove. "Don't just stand there, call the aurors."
Bellatrix turned to glare at Rodolphus before pointing an accusatory finger his way. "You did this!" she shrieked. "You and your filthy mudblood!" Her face was transformed by grief and zeal.
Just as she was about to lunge towards Rodolphus, Abraxas was there, pinning her hands behind her back. "Hush, Bellatrix. The aurors will get to the bottom of this," he cooed, guiding her up towards the house. "It isn't good to go throwing around such accusations."
Despite her best efforts, Bellatrix was herded away from Rodolphus, leaving him free to go to Hermione's side. Loosening the ribbons that kept her secured, he pressed a kiss to her lips. "I told you Abraxas and I had it handled," he told her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.
"I know," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But I wasn't going to let Voldemort wriggle his way out of this one, even if I had to Avada him myself."
"Poison was much more elegant," Rodolphus quipped, staring at the table, still littered with bodies.
"Let's get home to Daisy," she insisted.
Not wanting to spend another minute away from their daughter, Rodolphus agreed. Pulling her aside, he apparated them home, both of them finally free.