Hermione awoke with a start and looked around frantically, confused. Why was she not lying in her own bed? Feeling a heavy arm across her middle she finally realized she was in Rabastan's arms, his body curled up against her own. The events of the night before flashing before her eyes, Hermione groaned. An intelligible spew of words fell out of Rabastan's mouth, muffled by the pillow.
She pulled herself out of his arms and padded to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror Hermione was struck by the dark circles under her eyes and the way her hair looked like she had been struck by lightning. Darkness seemed to be seeping from her skin, figuratively of course.
Killing someone not only left a bad taste in her mouth, but suppressed the light in her, making way for the darkness to surface. Sure, she had killed people before, but never like this. Grabbing Rabastan's toothbrush, she brushed her teeth several times before she felt clean. She knew she needed another shower before feeling truly cleansed, but it could wait until later. Rabastan needed to get out of bed; she had some questions.
She walked back into the room the smell of bacon wafting led her to the sitting area where breakfast was waiting. Rabastan must have called Milsey as soon as she left the bedroom and hadn't hesitated to dig in. Sitting across from him, she pulled two pieces of toast onto her plate, not bothering to butter them up. They ate in silence, Hermione not wanting to spoil her breakfast with talk of murder and rape. Last night was horrifying enough; she didn't need to relive it during her first meal of the day.
As she finished her meal, she sat back in her chair and studied her breakfast companion. He was reading The Daily Prophet, sipping on Earl Grey. Who knew Death Eater's liked tea? She giggled at her own joke and Rabastan looked up at her curiously.
"What?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow, taking another sip of his tea.
"I was just laughing at my own joke is all," she giggled again, smiling.
"I'm glad you can still laugh after last nights fiasco," he said, smiling wryly at her. Her smile immediately dropped and her eyes fell to the floor. She knew he hadn't meant to, but reminding her of the horrors of the night before killed the mood. Sighing, Hermione knew a more thorough and in depth conversation of the events from the night needed to be hashed out and it needed to happen…now.
"Rabastan…" she said, pausing before continuing. "How did he even know? How did he know I was here? Is someone watching you? Is it safe for me to be here?" The questions just fell from her mouth, one after another, and she found herself entirely unable to stop the flow. Hermione looked at him, and, to her utter dismay, he was laughing at her! She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to find the words to scold him like a child. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down before she spoke again.
"I just want to know how Colin Mulciber knew I was here and found his way to my room," she said through gritted teeth.
His laughing subsided, the seriousness of the conversation taking over. "I'm sorry for laughing Hermione," he said sincerely. She nodded, motioning him to continue. "I have my suspicions about how he got in and how he knew you were here."
"And?" she said, prodding him for more information. She wanted to hear his suspicions, but he seemed reluctant to divulge any more information. As someone who could read people easily, she could tell he was having an internal battle with himself.
"Rabastan," she said, reaching across the table for his hand. "I need to know." He took a deep breath and gripped her hand tight.
"I think the other Death Eaters are on to me. It explains everything. Antonin's visit and begging me to go out with him. It seems to me that Mulciber was the one keeping watch on the house, saw me leave, and made his move then. What I don't know is if they are acting on the Dark Lord's order or of their own accord," he said, surmising what had happened.
Hermione sat there in shock. She thought the manor would have been safe with wards, but it was obvious that dark wizards knew had to dismantle them without notifying the caster. It was clear what needed to happen next.
Rabastan drug himself from his thoughts of the other Death Eaters and the death of Colin Mulciber to see the witch across from him, deep in thought. It was clear she was formulating a plan in her mind. He smiled glad he had the brilliant witch on his side.
"Tell me of your plans," he told her.
"What makes you think I have a plan?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"I might have only met you officially two days ago, but I can tell when the gears in your brain are turning. You have a plan."
"I do…but it's complicated. We are already in danger, but this will make it much, much worse," she admitted, wringing her hands in her lap.
"How about we go down to my office and drink some firewhiskey while discussing your plan?" he suggested.
"It's ten in the morning, Rabastan!"
"And? I don't think we are going to get through this without it."
"Maybe you're right."
Rabastan walked down to the study, the little witch right on his heels. He could tell she was anxious to get her plan out in the open, and he was all ears. He honestly was at a loss on how to deal with inevitable falling out from the dark that was to happen in the coming days. Walking into the study, he immediately bee-lined for the liquor cabinet grabbing the firewhiskey. He almost grabbed glasses, but decided against it; this was a time that it was acceptable to drink straight from the bottle.
Instead of sitting across the table from him, the little witch had pulled her chair next to his. It seemed she wanted to be close to him, but he was unsure why. Maybe she felt unsafe as an after effect of last night, or maybe she wanted them to speak in lower tones. She must have seen him looking at her oddly because she shrugged and sat down. He followed and sat down behind his desk and took a long drag of the firewhiskey. He welcomed the burn down his throat, coughing as his swallowed. Rabastan held the bottle out to her, telling her to take a sip.
"No glasses?" she questioned, accepting the offering. He returned a shrug and she didn't push the matter further. He watched as she took a large gulp and sputtered afterwards.
"Careful little witch," he said, taking the bottle from her and setting it on the desk. "Alright, tell me what's happening in that brain of yours."
"Okay, I have a question first," Hermione said. "What happened to Mulciber's body?"
"I had Milsey take care of it," he said, not expanding on it further. He felt the less she knew, the better, but by her reaction he needed to give her more.
"She took him and transformed him into a platinum bone. She then apparated to the middle of the Dornoch Forest and buried it," he admitted to her.
"And the room?"
"Clean," he replied simply. She nodded her head and he knew she didn't care to hear more about the cleaning of her chambers.
"I don't want to go back in there."
"I assumed as much. You are more than welcome to choose another room as your own, or continue sleeping with me in mine," he said, hoping she would choose the latter.
She didn't give him an answer and he didn't push the matter further. Instead he took another swig of whiskey and passed the bottle to her once more. She didn't hesitate lifting the bottle to her lips. A little whiskey fell out of her mouth and rested on her lip. Gods, he wanted nothing more than to lap up the fallen drink off her plump lips. She licked her lips and handed the bottle back to him, snapping him out of his stupor.
He needed to get it together. What happened yesterday should have never happened and she acted the way she did due to the oath, he convinced himself. "Tell me about this plan," he said, hoping to distract himself from his thoughts.
"It is not going to go unnoticed by the other Death Eaters that one of their own is missing. The death of Colin Mulciber will be broadcasted across all mediums and since he was important, the Dark Lord will want revenge I am assuming," she started. "If your assumptions are right that the other Death Eaters are acting on their own, they were in on the plan and they will know that Mulciber died here."
"You see where I'm going with this?" she asked him. He nodded and she continued. "It's a lose-lose situation for you. The other Death Eaters will know; you're dead. The Dark Lord will know; you're dead. Either way, if they are acting as a group of on the Dark Lord's orders, you will die."
He took another gulp of whiskey, only now fully realizing the gravity of the situation. He was a dead man. "Hermione, what do I do?"
"Well, the question really is what do we do?" she said smiling. "I promised on my magic that I would go through this with you. Just because there's now a target on your head doesn't mean anything has changed." He looked up at her, amazed by the witch sitting across from him.
She pointed to herself. "You're looking at Undesirable No. 1 right here. You think I'm scared of having a target on my head? Last night might have rattled the both of us, but we can handle it. We are Hermione Granger and Rabastan Lestrange," she said with a flourish of her arm and a laugh.
"Okay, so here is what we do. Are you ready?" He nodded and was ready to hop in on any plan the little witch presented to him.
"You need to leave the Dark Lord's service," she said bluntly. He was about to cause a commotion, but she shut him down. "Now hear me out. If you are summoned again, you are signing a one-way ticket to the gates of hell. You will die and I will have to go back into hiding with the fate of the wizarding world once more in jeopardy. Before I was on the run, I had been researching how to deactivate the Dark Mark. Deactivating the mark will notify him that you are dead. You will not be able to be summoned and the locating charm will dissipate."
"How will we get inside information and kill the rest of the inner-circle Death Eaters if I am supposedly dead?"
"See, that is the one part that I am worried about," she admitted, chewing on her lip. At any other moment, this action would have distracted him, but he was currently consumed with the problem at hand. "If the Death Eaters are acting on the Dark Lord's orders, then your death will be a victory for him. If the Death Eaters are not acting on his orders and his invades their minds, he hopefully will assume you were killed by their actions. If that is the case, he could end up doing some of the work for us."
He wasn't convinced that was the case. He had been on the other side of his master's wand many times and knew he would rather inflict pain rather than outright kill. He told Hermione so.
"That may be. But we can still carry out our plans as planned. We catch them off guard during their missions and…." Hermione didn't finish her sentence, but he knew what was next. No matter how horrible the Death Eaters were, they were still outright murdering them. It didn't sit well in either of their stomachs, but he knew it was necessary to their survival and the redemption of the Wizarding World.
"We need to find another place to live, little witch. With my brother dead, and my death the property will be transferred to the closest living relative, Bellatrix. She will take control of the property as my brother's widow."
"If you're going anywhere, you are taking me with," the portrait behind the desk said, quiet up until this moment. They both laughed at the absurdity of the request. Florin Lestrange pouted. "You need me. I am the one who can see into the other ancestral home."
Rabastan and Hermione looked at each other, knowing what he said was true. If Rabastan was to be presumably dead, Florin was their only chance of knowing what was going on. With nowhere to go, Hermione suggested something that made his blood drain from his face. There was no way she could pull it off.
"You know what this means right? We need the Order of the Phoenix," she said with a smile, taking one last sip of whiskey before leaving the room. He ran after her, immediately afraid the Longbottom boy would come knocking on his door with pointed wand and a vengeful glee splashed across his face.
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