Chapter 2 - The Three Assassins

Rain tapped lightly on the windows outside the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't very busy, with people deciding not to risk their safety for a simple drink in a pub, where anyone could be watching.

Madam Rosmerta was standing behind her bar, talking drinks from a bottle of firewhisky, looking very sullen. The guests in her tavern wasn't exactly what she would call desirable.

A man sat in the very back of the bar, a table all to himself. He was twirling an envelope in his hands, which read:

Urgent – Read Immediately

To - Morgan Rapke

A bell chinked and the man looked up to see two dark, hooded figures entering through the door. Madam Rosmerta looked up hopefully, but then made a noise of discontent and turned her back on the newcomers in disgust.

The men paid Rosmerta no attention, but made for the man sitting in the corner and took seats opposite him.

"Rapke," said the larger of the two in a hoarse voice.

"Avery, Dolohov," said the man, nodding to both in turn.

Both Avery and Dolohov removed their hoods, and the man named Rapke did as well.

He was very pale, with bright blue eyes. He had long, dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, and a scruffy beard, that looked as though he hadn't shaved in days. He seemed very unkempt, but when he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were dazzlingly white.

"It seems as though your master is ah, displeased, with me being the one to meet Potter here."

Dolohov hissed. "Your master? Surely, Rapke, you don't undervalue your life so much as to disown the man you owe your life to."

Rapke laughed. "Just the reaction I'd thought you'd have. What makes you think I owe him anything? He's done nothing for me, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I'll be serving him much longer."

Avery stood up quickly and drew his wand, but Rapke didn't flinch.

"Tell your lapdog that he's about to make a very stupid mistake."

Rapke locked eyes with Rosmerta for a brief second, and gave her an imperceptible nod. She disappeared into the back room.

Dolohov eyed Rapke for a moment, then held out a hand to Avery.

"If he's telling the truth, and he is a double agent, he won't be alive much longer. Stay your hand Avery, let's see what the traitor has to say."

Avery slowly sat back in his chair, but didn't lower his wand. He was giving Rapke a look of utmost contempt.

"You twits are getting smarter by the minute," said Rapke, smirking at the pair of them. He glanced at the bar. Rosmerta still hadn't returned.

"Tell us why you brought us here, before we lose our patience."

Rapke deliberately hesitated. He had to keep them here a certain amount of time, this was essential. He glanced at his watch, where the time said 7:20. He decided to repress the information until absolutely necessary.

"Well, as you know, Voldemort-"

Avery shot back up again, with such force that he knocked his chair backwards. He shot a curse at Rapke, but it merely glanced off a shield charm he had cast a moment before and hit a torch, which fell from it's bracket and set the table under it ablaze.

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name!" Dolohov barked.

Rapke just laughed again. Manipulating these men was just too easy.

He pointed his wand at the table that had been set on fire and it instantly went out, leaving it without a blemish.

"You dare-" began Avery, but Rapke cut across him.

"The Dark Lord, if you will, gave me very explicit orders to be here, right now. You two, on the other hand, are supposed to be at Grimmauld place, waiting for the time when Potter will arrive there. The Dark Lord trusts me, irrevocably. Dolohov, you let Potter escape twice, in the past three months, and Avery, when's the last time you've been on a mission and hadn't managed to entirely fuck it up. I'm surprised to see you still standing, to be honest."

Dolohov's face was brick red, evidently trying to suppress the rage growing inside of him. Minutes passed by in scornful silence, before Dolohov finally spoke.

"What are you trying to say?" Dolohov asked, his voice shaking, malice etched in every syllable.

Rapke stared at him, again deliberately wasting time. He glanced at his watch again. It was 7:30.

"Oh, nothing really," Rapke replied, leaning back in his chair so he was balancing it on it's back two legs. "Just that I've been able to gain the Dark Lord's favoritism, all while I've been plotting against him. And you two, who've been faithful from the start, are now looked at like scum."

For a third time Avery stood up and pointed his wand directly at Rapke who, finally sensing real danger, let his chair fall with a thud and stood up as well, looking Avery full in the face.

"If you kill me right now, the Dark Lord will never cease to hunt you. He won't believe your pitiful delegations of turncoats and traitors and he will murder you before the week is out. So if I were you I'd lower my wand."

Rosmerta had finally returned, and she was looking between Avery and Rapke with apprehension on her face.

The silence stretched and Avery didn't lower his wand or look away, it was as if he didn't want to give Rapke a chance to attack him.

"Potter is meeting me outside here in 15 minutes, at which time, he'll be handed over to the Dark Lord-"

"Lies!" bellowed Dolohov. "If you are against the Dark Lord, you are with the boy, you intend to help him!"

Rapke sat back down, motioning Avery to do the same, but he remained standing, staring at Rapke audaciously.

"Very well, then."

Rapke leaned back in his chair again and looked outside. The rain had turned into a full force gale.

It would be hard to hold a meeting in the storm, but it would be easy to escape the two Death Eaters across from him if need be.

"What is Potter meeting you for?" Dolohov spat.

"Obviously, Voldemort thought I was his only servant trustworthy enough to trust with this task."

The two men hissed at the sound of their master's name, but he took no notice.

"I have told Potter that I have information that will be valuable to him, some of the Dark Lord's secrets, his undercover Death Eaters, so on and so forth."

"And I expect you'll actually give him all this information, like the filthy blood-traitor you are."

Rapke smirked and nodded. "Too right you are."

"Why the hell have you brought us here then? I thought this was important."

"Oh, it is. I haven't revealed my point. I want you to report to Voldemort at say, 8 o'clock? Tell him everything. Tell him what a filthy blood-traitor I am, and how I kept Potter from harm's way, when he thought he was all but his. Tell him I have found out who his spy is in the Order, and where he keeps his Sorcerer's Stone, the one that he made with alchemists that he kidnapped, the one he thought no living soul knew about after he killed them all. So can you remember all that for me, or are you two too dim-witted?"

Dolohov and Avery just sat gaping at him, apparently too enraged to speak. Rapke glanced at his watch again. It was 7:45. Time to act.

"Well, lads, it's been a nice chat, but I really should be off. I probably won't be seeing you until we're all in hell, so..." Rapke stood and gave them a tiny bow. "...I bid you adieu."

He strode away from the table and towards, the bar where he stopped and looked at Rosmerta.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Oh, it was nothing," she said with a smile. "Will we be in touch soon?"

Rapke nodded. "I believe so."

He walked away towards the door, pausing only to light a cigarette on a torch.