Disclaimer: The world of magic might be ours, but Harry Potter belongs to JK.
I've an apology to make- it's been a horribly long wait for this chapter and the truth is it's ended up being a lot harder to edit this story than I had originally anticipated. Nevertheless, thankyou for sticking with it and enjoy.
Thank you to Mithrellas- glad you're enjoying it- am mortified about the typos.
Thanks Visionary- obviously can't give the story away but stick with it!
Thank you Dark ass- confused in a good way I hope! And Abraxas and Marla's relationship is a clue for things to come...
Chapter Eight- Breaking Ranks
Marla paced up and down the line up. Lowman, Locke, Abraxas, Crabbe and Macnair stood facing her, awaiting her decision.
"Crabbe," she said, stopping to face his distorted figure. "Your role as an Enforcer will finally be useful." She grinned at him and he shrunk into himself slightly. "You will find yourself escorting the next group of prisoners to Azkaban."
"But, they don't let me-" he started but Marla hushed him.
"Lowman will see to it that you will lead the group." She said glancing at Lowman who nodded reluctantly. "I want the Minister there too, Lowman." He nodded again.
"Perfect," she said to herself. "Macnair, Locke and Malfoy- I want you to take care of our dementor friends when we're in."
Locke scoffed. "And how do you suppose we get in?" Marla stopped and turned to her.
"Tut tut, Locke, impertinence." She smiled a sickly smile. "Don't you have faith in Lord Voldemort's deputy?" Abraxas shifted uncomfortably at this but ceased at a glare from Marla. "Our entry will be simple..." she looked around to make sure she had everybody's attention. They were hanging off her every word. Enjoying the momentary power, she continued. "The Minister and Crabbe will let us in."
Locke scoffed again. "And what, the guards will happily let us stroll around the prison, Or do you suppose we duel all of them?"
"Be quiet and let her finish." It was Abraxas who had spoken. Marla nodded at him appreciatively but he avoided her gaze.
"Duelling? There won't be any duelling. You will follow orders and we will leave triumphant."
She smiled at the group, folding her arms, awaiting a reaction. The Death Eaters stared aghast at her. Her smile faded slightly.
"What?" she asked, concerned.
Lowman shook his head at her. "So, I'm assuming I distract the wizarding guards with the Minister? I expect you will want me to suggest a spot check?"
"Yes," Marla answered, "Malfoy says you claimed that Ministry officials do this sporadically."
"Yes they do," Lowman said, waving away this point, "but the dementors stay in their positions. There are dementors stationed at each level. How on earth are you-"
"It's all sorted," Marla snapped impatiently, "Macnair, Locke and Malfoy will provide them with souls. They won't be able to resist."
"Whoa," Macnair cut in, "You're going to give us to the-"
"No, fool," Marla sneered, "You'll be doing the feeding, not acting as the fodder!"
The Death Eaters exchanged uneasy looks at this. Patience waning rapidly, Marla stared at them expectantly. "What?" she asked again.
Crabbe shifted uncomfortably in his seat before asking "Who are we giving to the dementors?"
At this Marla smiled, her eyes flashing. "Ah," she sighed, "you'll like this- I'd say, a class of Muggle school-children wouldn't be too hard to- ah- convince to join us."
Silence.
Abraxas walked over to Marla and stood by her side, facing the group. "Any questions?" he asked, expertly hiding the unease in his voice. The Death Eaters shook their heads and Abraxas turned on his heel to the entrance hall, motioning for Marla to do the same.
ooo
"Do you realise this will never work?" he hissed at her in the hall.
"It will, I have a feeling about it," she replied, annoyed at his lack of support. "I know there are a few grey areas but we'll sort them out, okay? It'll work, so long as everyone follows orders."
Abraxas bit his tongue and looked away. Marla touched his arm, reassuringly but he shrugged her away. "Is there any point in me picking holes in your suicidal plan?" he asked, and a dark look spread over his face. Marla started, taken aback.
"No," she snapped, defensively, "no there isn't." She studied him as his face once again became blank. "You could help me iron out the kinks..." she suggested.
He nodded dispassionately. "I will," he stated, "but for now, excuse me." With that, he turned and left through the front door, robes billowing behind him.
ooo
Abraxas burst into Marla's room that night. She looked up from her work alarmed. He strode over to her and wrenched the Ministry documents from her hand.
"Hey, for god's sake, Abraxas, what're you doing?" she asked, lunging for the pieces of parchment and missing.
He moved across the room to slam the door shut. "This is insanity," he yelled at her.
She closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine, okay," she said finally, "If you can do better, lets hear it."
"Not the plan," he snapped, throwing the documents to the floor. "You! What you're doing!"
Marla looked at him appalled. "What on earth do you mean?"
"You can't join the Death Eaters then expect everybody to trust you, Marla! No one trusts you! They're uniting against you. It's far too dangerous for us to even attempt the Azkaban assignment with this sort of unrest within ranks."
"If Lord Voldemort says they have to listen to-" Marla started but Abraxas cut across her.
"Don't say his name." He hissed, seething.
"There's no reason they'll disobey orders." Marla reasoned, still startled.
Abraxas scoffed at this. "No qualifications, no experience in government..."
"I'm a treasure hunter!"
"That means 'thief' to everyone else, Marla!"
"But He was one too!"
"THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND THE DARK LORD!" Marla saw Abraxas finally loose control and it terrified her. She expected him to curse her, throw something- react as Lord Voldemort always did when something got in the way of him and his artefacts. She did not expect him to bite his tongue and turn away. "I can't protect you forever," he said, wearily. "there's only so much influence I can have on them." He collapsed in the nearest armchair looking defeated, running his fingers through his hair nervously. "Marla, we can't attempt such an undertaking with instability like this- we'll all end up in Azkaban."
Marla hazarded a grin. "I was hoping as much," she said but became solemn at his expression.
His words struck a chord with her. What did she need protecting from? And was it not Lord Voldemort himself who had uttered such a similar statement?
"We're on the brink of a war and if you don't accept my authority, I can't protect you."
"What do I need protecting from?" she asked, growing wary but Abraxas merely shook his head.
"From yourself, stupid fool."
Marla shrugged his comment off. "Hardly."
"All this talk of giving children to the dementors- they are wondering where you're coming from- I'm wondering where you're coming from."
Marla, taken aback, strode towards him. "I'm doing my job, Abraxas!" she cried, "The job HE gave me!" Abraxas stood up abruptly. "The job he gave us." Marla corrected herself weakly. She shrunk under Abraxas's apparent anger.
"You are going to kill us all." He watched as she turned her back on him and learned over the roaring fireplace.
"I'm doing the best I can- the best I know how..." she said to the fireplace.
Abraxas closed his eyes and composed himself. He moved to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She leaned back into him, finding comfort in his warmth. She moved into his embrace, burying her face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and they stood for a moment, both finding comfort in each others presence.
OOO
Marla pulled away from Tom, ensuring he didn't see her face.
"How do you feel?" he asked, concerned. Marla didn't know. She flexed her fingers and tried to walk unaided.
"Fine," she lied after a moment, voice horribly strained.
"Can you Apparate?" He glanced at her as she blinked slowly, trying to regain vision.
"I... I don't know." The words came difficultly as the curse wore off.
Tom gripped her arm and she felt herself being lifted off the ground. Her head rushed as they Apparated back to the hillside.
As her eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, she saw it was darker at this side of the peaks. The sun had set and foreign constellations littered the sky.
"They must have known we were magical." Tom said to himself, letting her go and pacing. "Muggles... muggles they could have just Confounded or... They must have known we were magical."
Marla tried to nod in agreement but her stomach churned. "I need a minute, Tom."
"Of course," he muttered, distracted.
The Crutiatus Curse had been more terrible than she could have ever anticipated. Without Tom's hurried wand work, she suspected she would have died from the pain. But of course, that was the beauty of the curse- no death. She shuddered and her stomach churned again.
"We'll be better prepared next time," he comforted her. "They won't do it again."
"Yes, Tom," she managed, before slipping into half consciousness. She sensed his pacing stopping as he paused to acknowledge her state, recommencing when he was satisfied she wasn't in any real danger.
"We're Apparating to the village now, Marla," he said, heaving her up roughly. Her barely audible moan was enough for him and they disappeared into the night.
Chap 9 almost satisfactory- up soon )